Me.

This post is all about me. Carelessly revealing. I figure it's my blog so why not?

I am horrible at being an adult. I am 100% worthless when it comes to the following adult characteristics, tasks, and general things that every adult should be good at. Working a real job, fixing things around the house, being responsible, doing taxes, paying bills, understanding insurance, working on a car, making important adult decisions, discussing politics, doing whatever with stocks & bonds, having a retirement plan, getting my teeth cleaned, changing my oil, not fighting at work, eating healthy, building a spreadsheet, doing a powerpoint presentation, basically anything involving a computer other than writing in my blog and surfing porn, watching my cholesterol, exercising more, 401K, how making money works.

I have the interests and mentality level of a 13 year old. I try to be adultish, but I just can't seem to focus. Whenever someone starts talking about the House Committee Budget, I look at them with an interested expression on my face, nodding my head and saying, "Oh, definitely." Then I start thinking about how they're ever going to make a good Superman movie. I mean, Christopher Reeve was okay (God rest his soul), but that was the 70s. We need an updated, non-bubble gummy, badass version of Superman. A little darker, like the Dark Knight series. How can you really make Superman dark--and believable? I don't know...I don't know...

I try to be good. About a year ago, right before my Granny passed away, the last thing she said to me was, "Just be good." Three simple words put together to make such a bold statement. I think I've always tried to be good, to a point. I was pretty ornery growing up and have still had my fair share of questionable acts as an adult. But it wasn't until hearing my Granny tell me that, while she lay on her bed knowing that those were probably going to be her final words to me on this earth, that I've consciously used that as my life's guidance. It's so simple. So perfect.

I'm not necessarily going to start doing missionary work or house orphans in my living room. I just think it keeps you on the right track. It helps steer you in day-to-day life, making the right decisions and being a person of honesty and integrity. Although I slip from time to time, I still like to think that I'm "being good".

The things that I'm interested in won't make me any money. I'm interested in fishing. Sooo, let's see...I could work at a tackle/fly shop? I could fish tournaments? I could guide? And...that's...about...it. I've worked at shop--not getting rich there. Tournaments will probably cost you more to participate in than you could honestly win. And guiding? See tackle/fly shop response.

I like music. Okay, how about a band? I'm no longer 20 and was never that talented to begin with. You could work in a studio? Na, I can barely plug in a guitar. Radio DJ? Really?

I like kid stuff like super heroes, baseball, comic books, cartoons, toys, and movies with either Trans Ams or Wookies in them. Pass.

I like to drink. My love of drinking serves as therapy and medicine for working a real job. It'd be weird if the two collided.

I am a dreamer, not a doer. I have the best ideas you've ever heard of. They range from lucrative business ventures to forming a cult. My ideas are gold. If there was a job for coming up with great ideas and not following through with any of them, I'd be a godamn millionaire. This has been a slow and painful realization.

I have never felt content. Well, that's not totally true. I feel content with my wife. I'm content with my family, my dog, and my Scotch intake. But I'm always wondering what's around the next corner. The grass is always greener, they say, so let's go check it out. It's exhausting, always dreaming of where to go next, what to do next, what to experience next, that I lose sight of comfort and stability. Those things have been fairly nonexistent in my adult life, due to my hyperactive brain changing it's mind ever other day. I can see the light, though. I think my time is soon--my time to sit, relax, and appreciate what I have, what I've done, and what's to come. I'm looking forward to the challenge.

I'm unattracted by addiction. That's a really broad statement, one that might mislead. Although I am repulsed by crack whores and methies, that's not what I'm getting at. Maybe addiction isn't the right term, but when someone becomes so in to something that it's all they talk about, think about, and do, that's what I'm referring to as "addiction". I love to fish. I love to bass fish out of a fancy boat, I like to fly fish mountain streams for trout. And I'm not bad at either. But when I get around guys who are obsessed with it, it makes me not want to do it as much. Or at the very least, not do it their way. Same goes for just about anything of interest to me. I get around folks who are obsessed...addicted, then I get turned off. I prefer sticking to doing something my way. If I need help or have questions, I'll ask.

I've just been around too many people who are stuck on one thing--their thing. And it encompasses them entirely. It defines them. And I think that's sad.

I think people think I'm lazy. I can see that. When I'm doing something that I'm not enjoying I tend to drift off or shut down. I've been doing it since 4th grade. During math, I would start thinking about anything other than math. I couldn't focus on math, because I hated math. There's probably some sort of name for that--ADHD or someshit. I don't think it's lazy. I'm not consciously refusing to do math, I just can't seem to focus on it. Not a lot's changed.

Lately, I've felt kind of worthless. Approaching 40 and not knowing what you want to do with your life is pretty scary. The things that I'm good at, the things that I'm interested in, and my increasing age has me in a pretty low percentile of guys that are going to be monetarily successful. I suck at everything to do with money. So I've decided to downsize. I've spent a lot of money in my time on crap. Just useless crap. I'm going to stop with the stuff. There's just too much stuff. The way I see it, if you can't be that rich dentist driving the Range Rover, you might as well be happy living within your means. Of course, I've never been content so that might be a challenge.

I think happiness is underrated. I've made a vow to myself to not take happiness for granted anymore. I'm good at some things, I suck at others, but at the end of the day I need to sit back and appreciate what a cool life I've got. I know it sounds like hippie nonsense, but as long as you've got loved ones and mediocre health, you're not doing too bad. Think about it.
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Random Action Jackson.

Just a few random thoughts that came to me while in the shower. The shower is where I do almost all of my solid thinking...

* Bullet points. Since we're consumed with work, might as well use the ever-businessy bullet points. Unfortunately, on this blogspot site, I can't figure out how to make them look clean and professional. Kind of fitting, I suppose.

* Back to the shower... There aren't too many places that I love more than the shower. Aside from the soothing, meditational rain on my back, nearly scalding my skin, I think the most definitive part of the shower, as far as inducing solid, constructive thinking, is the fact that nobody can fuck with me in the shower. There are no phones or email. Even if my wife screams something from downstairs at me, I just ignore her. This is my 15 minutes of solitude a day. This is where everything gets done.

I feel sorry for people that don't shower. I understand the very Coloradian point of view of "Use Only What You Need" in a wasting water sense. But I need that water. It's the most important part of the day. That's probably why most everyone in Colorado stinks. Damn hippies...

* I am quickly growing tired of screens. I spend just about every waking moment of every day in front of some sort of screen--as do a lot of you, I'm assuming. (Ironic, huh? I'm bitching about screens by typing on a screen.) Whether it's a phone or computer screen to accomplish a day's work...or an iPod, iPad, or TV to relax, there's always a screen present.

I try to think back to when I had my first office job and how in the hell work got done without computers. Back in the mid-nineties I remember having a computer at my desk, but it was for creating graphs and charts and shit. No email, no IM, no Skype, nothing even close to that. Everything was done through telephone, fax, and face-to-face meetings. I remember hating those office days about as much as I hate these office days. That probably has more to do with my dislike for offices, office work, office sayings, bullet points, and people in general, though. "Dude, you're such a whiny little bitch." "Yea, I hear that a lot."

Bottom line on the screen speech: I need to relax on them. It's hurting my eyes and making me disappointed in myself. More staring at a tree--not a digital image of a tree on one of my 11 screens (shitty example. Sorry.).

* It's snowing. I don't really care for snow. I don't ski, snowboard, sled, make snow angels, participate in snowball fights, or build igloos. I don't enjoy shoveling snow, driving in snow, scraping snow from my windshield, or pushing cars out of ditches filled with snow. It's kind of pretty, but that's pretty much where it starts and ends with me. It is better than ice, which is what I left in Missouri. It doesn't snow there, it ices. I just want to be a snowbird (I think that's the correct term...) who lives in the Keys for four months out of the year. I'm going to work on that.

* Dokken Day 2.0 is quickly approaching. I haven't hyped it near as much this time around as I did in 2010. Not to make excuses, but I've been very preoccupied with making sure I stress out as much as I possibly can due to work. That's had me pretty busy. But don't you worry--I'll be there with my leather trench coat (Oops! Did I spoil the surprise?) and clean pipes for hitting those high notes.

* What is it, twelve days until pitchers and catchers report? God, I hate sports in February. April and I went to a Nuggets game last night, which was actually pretty fun, aside from me dwelling on work-related garbage all night (may need to start medicating myself). We got there late and left early--and certainly didn't pay for the tickets--but enjoyed ourselves. Not sure who won. Don't care.

I heart baseball.

Nuggets....

* Lately, I've been thinking fairly deeply about happiness. There's a real good chance that we've only got one ride on this train. Corny sounding, but you get it. I'm not interested in spending any of that time unhappy. It's time wasted. Whatever you can do to ensure that you and your loved ones are happy throughout this lifetime is what needs to be done. At least for me it does. And that includes making sacrifices, I'm afraid. I'm guilty of getting caught up in my own happiness that sometimes I forget that I need to make other people happy, too. Well, just the important ones.

I won't get too deep into that now.

I've got to run downstairs and get a fresh cup of coffee. Maybe that will help me out of this extremely "gray" mood.

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i am entirely too cynical.

My extraordinarily interesting life (he says sarcastically) has led me today to a musty hotel room with furniture from the late 70s (but with a microwave!), in the beautiful but weird City of Salt Lake. I am attending the Outdoor Retailer's Convention--or OR, as the cool kids call it.

OR is the time when everyone from the Outdoor Industry convenes in one place as vendors show off their updated wares to buyers. It's loud, obnoxious, stressful, claustrophobic, and exhausting...which doesn't really reflect the outdoor lifestyle that once attracted me to this business. Brands like Patagonia, Marmot, Columbia, and The North Face are seeing who has the biggest dick. Their show displays most certainly break the million dollar mark, and it's almost a game to see who can make the most noise and attract the most people. Granted, I'm not opposed to the tactic of giving away free beer to attract people--it worked on me.

It's "sell, sell, sell!!" nonstop. Selling products, selling lifestyles, selling your company, selling your word, and selling yourself. When you break it all down, it essentially has nothing to do with the outdoors, it has to do with dollars. It's just another industry. Sure, it's probably more fun than selling dog food or something, but it's just selling to make money.

Matt, you're a SALES REP. Yea, I know...

I couldn't help but think as I elbowed my way through thousands of people today, that I would like to start minimizing. I mean, there's so much stuff! Everyone is making everything for every occasion. This convention center was filled to the seams with stuff--just to make enjoying the outdoors more enjoyable? Yea, I guess to a point. But I'm getting so damn jaded with all the "this brand is better than this brand", "this product is better than this product", the mud-slinging, the egos, the bullshit, and excess. It's not what the outdoors are. In fact, it's the opposite.

The outdoors represents a step back. A step back from the egos, bullshit, and excess. It simplifies life in a backwards kind of way where you escape everyday conveniences and rely on basics. Today felt like REI, the New York Stock Exchange, and Vegas got thrown in a blender without a lid and this is what sprayed all over the ceiling.

My happy place today was envisioning a week-long float trip down the Buffalo River in Northern Arkansas that I'll hopefully get to make a reality in May (thanks for the invite, Jeffrey!).

It's a strange contrast. Loud, obnoxious, stressful, claustrophobic, and exhausting; mud-slinging, egos, bullshit, and excess--to try and help make someones outdoor experience more enjoyable. I suppose business is business--money is money. That's how it is. And I suppose I should be thankful that it's still an enjoyable (for the most part) industry to be in.

It'd be a lot cooler if someone would just pay me to be on the other end...camping alongside the Buffalo River, not worrying about selling stuff to people. An end user on payroll. Not a bad title.

That's what's on my brain.


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Perspective.

I've been stressed out lately. That doesn't happen all that often.

I grew up in an atmosphere where money wasn't taken for granted. Whenever something monetarily bad would happen, my folks would not let it crush them. They would find a way to pay the mortgage, keep the water on, and feed the family. Commissioned sales can be a very lucrative means to a living, and it can be empty and unforgiving.

When checks weren't being deposited on a regular basis, my folks would keep their chin up and with a sincere tone say, "It could be a lot worse."

It could. Cheesy, but we always had each other. We were extremely fortunate in the grand scheme of all things and scenarios. We had a roof over our heads, good eats on the table, and a tremendous relationship with each other. Not everyone can say that.

Now that I'm the one with the mortgage, the car payments, the insurance and taxes, I need to take a page from my parents and not let dollar signs stress me out. I have learned to adapt. When things are going well, and the dollars signs are a positive presence, I need to be better at appreciating. Appreciating the things that we tend to fall back on when times could be better--because they could be a lot worse.

From time to time I call my folks when I'm a little stressed--always about money, in some form--and they both deliver the same "pep talk". First, there's the tone in their voices that basically say, "Dude, you don't have it bad. WE'VE had it bad. So shut up." Then there's the empathetic ear--the understanding. Then finally the bluntness of, "Hey, at least no one's been in a wreck, or has cancer or something."

Eloquent? No. But poignant and true.

So I suppose when I get stressed out, I should be very thankful that it's over money. 'Cause it's just money.

That's called perspective.

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Big Winner.

I heard this saying once, "Think of what you would do if you won the lottery, then strive to do that for a living.", or something like that.

So I guess that means if you were to spend all of your winnings buying things, you should be a professional shopper or merchandiser. If you would travel to exotic places, then maybe you should work on a cruise ship. If you decided to put all the money in the bank and live off the interest, then you're super-boring and I don't want to talk about this with you.

What would I do? That's easy. I'd fish. Yep, as simple--and redneck--of an answer that it is, that's exactly what I would do. But it is actually much deeper than it sounds.

When I'm fishing, I am completely shut off from outside interference. I don't worry. I don't think about grown-up things like money, working, investing, mortgages, payments, insurance, and taxes. I don't dwell on my travel schedule, or worry about kids, or wonder how this or that will get done. I am on the water with one intention, yet still take time to appreciate my surroundings.

Sure, if I won the lottery I wouldn't have to worry about any of that stuff anyway. But I don't like playing with money, so why not hire people to while I go fish? Sounds like a plan to me.

But there's much more than just hook, line, and sinker. By fishing all the time, I would travel to all ends of the earth (except Asia--creeps me out) in search of great water. And by traveling, I would be able to sample a vast variety of local eateries and drinkeries--another one of my favorite things. I would probably meet a lot of new people, too. That's cool, I guess...as long as they're not douchey.

Basically, I want to live my life happily and worry-free. Like when I'm fishing.

Better go buy my Power Ball ticket.

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Blessing in Desguise.

I'm not really sure why I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, it's a game.

But like so many other sports fans, it's more than just a game. It's more than just a friendly contest. It's loyalty and appreciation for a city, state, region, school, or tradition. I wish I were above this sort of addiction, but I'm not.

The loyalty that people have towards their team is pretty amazing. My wife, for instance--she is from small town Nebraska, went to school in Lincoln, and bleeds Husker Red. She knows more about the history of Cornhusker Football than anyone I know. She can talk Big 8, Big 12, SEC, whatever with anyone out there. But it's not that she loves the Huskers just because she feels she needs a team to root for. It's something that brings together family and friends; it's her history, home, and heritage; it's her alma mater; and no matter how good or bad the team is that particular year, you can bet that she'll be watching and rooting for the 'Skers.

I'm kind of the same when it comes to the St. Louis Cardinals. My entire family is from St. Louis, and as a little kid I was enamored with the Cards. I'm 37 now and nothing has changed.

And, like my wife and the Cornhuskers, it's not just a team for me to root for. I'm not a fan just so I feel like I'm a part of something. There's no fairweather rooting with us. No, I grew up watching the Cards with my entire family. My family is St. Louis, and the Cardinals are St. Louis. We knew every player and their stats, we took sick time from work to attend Opening Day, we knew when the Cubbies were coming to town, we worked at Anheuser-Busch, we applauded the visiting team, and we felt like we were best friends with Jack Buck and Mike Shannon. We appreciated the blue-collared mentality of coming to work and busting your ass--giving 100%. Running out grounders, diving for line drives, not showing up the competition. That's St. Louis baseball. And we embrace those that represent great St. Louis baseball. Not many teams have true Hall of Famers seemingly roaming around the stadium in their red blazers.

In this day and age, there aren't many players that stick with one team throughout their entire career. Players come and go, yet we still appreciate them and their time spent with St. Louis. There are certain, unfortunate situations in which a player leaves in a negative light. Scott Rolen didn't get along with Tony LaRussa, so he was traded. Jim Edmonds was on the downside of his career, so he was traded. Ozzie Smith ended his career on the bench, being replaced by the younger Royce Clayton (who?). It happens, but that's how it is.

So when you have a player like Albert Pujols, who came up through St. Louis' farm system and has had the career that he has had, the city is going to throw themselves at him. He is a god walking among mortals in St. Louis.

Then he splits. For more money.

And it bothers me a little. It shouldn't at all, but it does. I think it's bugging because it feels like a slap in the face. That guy could do no wrong in St. Louis' eyes. He owned the city. We let him get by with anything. And then after the Cards offer him ridiculous money over a ridiculous amount of time--just like he wanted--he walks.

Have you ever dated a girl that was just a little out of your league? When you first started dating, she was young and genuine. But over the years, her hotness increased. Now, she's incredibly attractive and amazing in the sack, and she knows it. And you throw yourself at her, you spoil her, you tell her she's perfect and can do no wrong. She never really reciprocates her feelings back to you. Sure, she says she loves you and will never leave you, but it doesn't really sound that genuine. Still, you keep hope alive. Then it comes time when you feel you really need to commit yourself to her and "lock her up". You ask her if she will be yours forever and give her a promise ring. She tells you that it's not shiny enough and gives it back to you. She says she doesn't want to talk about it while she's busy being hot for the next seven months. You say okay. During that seven months, she proves to everyone just how hot she is. You come back to her after the duration and ask for her hand in marriage. She tells you that she's met someone else. He's some rich guy that work for Fox Sports, lives in Los Angeles, drives a Maserati, and gave her a bigger ring. They've only known each other for a couple days. He's never met her family, and they've never even been to LA. It's a tough, confusing break up.

Well, even though that relationship ended with a kick in the dick, I guess we did have some good times together. She really wasn't my type anyway. Actually, I've got a couple other chicks I've been seeing, and they're pretty hot in that "girl next door" kind of way.

Yes, it's a tough break up. It's a bit of a slap in the face. But--and we all know it--it wasn't meant to be.

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Dokken Day 2.0

Look at the hair. Hair that says, "I like to party, kick ass, and fuck." Hair like this was once considered a symbol of power. Accompanied with ripped t-shirts, boots with buckles, various tapestries dangling, very very tight pants, and a little makeup applied to the face, this was a style that led 80s rock 'n rollers to the land of loud, obnoxious, sexy, big dumb rock. It was a glorious land.

This particular band pictured is, of course, Dokken.

In the year 2010, a party was held in Springfield, Missouri to celebrate the day that is, Dokken Day. The party was good. There was rock, spandex, heavy drinking, hot tubbing, an 80s metal kick contest, high-pitched vocalizing, and good fellowship.

Two years later, Dokken Day will rise again from the ashes like a glowing, fiery hawk--talons agape, ready to latch onto a hot pink Ibanez electric guitar and fly high above the horizon for everyone to see. 2012 will bring together the same band of rockers committed to celebrating not only one of the greatest 80s Metal bands with two "k's" in their name--but every band that donned the perfectly hairspray-teased mane; the denim, spandex, and leather; and the attitude of excesses.

Dokken Day 2.0 will be ridiculous.

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