Isn't it amazing?

I went to a celebration event last night in honor of a friend of mine who beat cancer. A year ago he was diagnosed with it and now he’s completely destroyed it. I think that’s just amazing. He described some of the medical procedures he had to go through and they sounded truly barbaric. They did save his life however. And as he said, he’s now here drawing breath.

It made me think of some of the other miracles I’ve witnessed. I’ve seen my Uncle beat cancer and several other ailments along the way at a time when those in the medical profession didn’t give him much of a chance. I’ve seen children come back from brink and who are now vibrant with childhood enthusiasm. I’ve seen near misses with car accidents and heard stories of amazing triumph in bleak situations.

I thought about my personal miracles as well. There were times where I just missed an accident or ducked just at the right moment. Is it some sort of cosmic timing or sheer luck? Are miracles wrought upon us by a higher intelligence or is it merely the luck of the draw? Is it a micro-second of two microscopic cells that just happen to be in the right place at the right time that defines our very existence and that decide our mathematical fate?

I don’t know. Who could know a thing like that? All we can do is appreciate the gravity of those miracles and do our best to accept them. So I was glad to be at the celebration last night; sharing with others how really amazing it is to survive something as terrible as cancer.  It was also one of those times that I felt my own mortality creeping in and that I should take better care of myself, although the hedonist in me almost always tries to ruin my plot for self-preservation.

So as I sit here in my cube, marveling at the wonders of the miracles all around us I feel terribly confined and as if my life is lacking any real meaning or adventure.  Then I think that it’s a miracle that I’m here at all and I should be grateful. What a terrible enigma to be wrapped up in; life is precious, but often boring. I am glad I have a sense of humor about it all, otherwise I’m sure I would have taken a hostage long ago and demanded buckets of ice cream and cheesecake and a chopper to take me to Brazil.  

Anyway, I’m very happy my friend is on recovery road and has beaten a disease that so often destroys. I never really had any doubts he wouldn’t beat it. It was in the bag. Now, onto the next miracle; The Great Disappearing Hangover.

The future is then

Technology has been a true blessing for certain. It’s amazing to instantly communicate with anyone anywhere around the globe. It’s wild to download footage of a Chimp urinating in its own mouth, truly magnificent. It’s a testament to our human genius and I’m really proud of it.

Proud of it except when I have to be a part of it, for an hour.  There’s this on-line training and or conference system called WebX. It’s a doodler’s dream since no trainer or other employee can see you scribbling on your note pad. But it is so boring. I was learning today about all kinds of new Medicare legislation that now affects the industry I work in. It seems to me they are making it far more complicated than it should be.  It’s also making me sleepy. 

I appreciate the efforts the company is making to make sure were all on the same page regarding this new legislation and it’ll help Medicare for sure. But again, it’s so boring. So now I will digress from this current train of thought and drift off into something more interesting.

I’m worried about my future love life. Over the last few days I’ve realized how much I miss feeling a deep emotional love for another person. I mean, I love people, friends and family, etc. But I miss that boyfriend/girlfriend love. It’s a curious thing to miss; especially since I seem to turn into an emotional stone at some point in the relationship. (Hear that ladies, emotional stone and yes, I am single).

I’ve been on a few dates here and there, even met a few women that I would like to hang out with again and see more of, but I haven’t felt that “Spark”. That certain something that really makes you want to see that person again and you’d do just about anything to make that happen. I just haven’t felt it. So I’m worried about my future love life. Am I drifting too far into my own realm of singleness? Losing touch with who’s out there?

I am a romantic in a way, I do want the whole, “Eyes meet from across the room and we’re magnetically attracted to each other”, thing. I miss that giddiness that builds up inside every time you look in their eyes as you talk.  I miss that quite a lot.  I wish there was a WebX seminar to help me figure this whole crazy relationship thing out. (Of course I’d probably be doodling through that too)

I’m looking forward to the next relationship. (Of course it does have some mighty big high heels to fill). I hope I’m aware enough to notice when it comes along, sometime in the future.  Will it involve the internet or some future technology? I wouldn’t mind, but I’m not going to a dating web site. I prefer the old fashioned way of meeting people, in person, at a bar. How else is the music supposed to come up?

Dear Americans, please put your pants on.

As I was driving about the city this weekend I noticed a peculiar and unsettling trend. Too many people are walking around in their pajama bottoms. I’m not sure where this trend started but it needs to stop. I can appreciate your search for comfortable garments for the lower half of your body, but flannel pajama pants at the grocery store are not appropriate.

I think this trend started with teenage girls. I only say this because a few years ago I noticed a large number of young girls with their “Juicy” sweatpants tucked into their Uggs Boots. I noted at the time how very strange this new fashion development was but I checked it off as just something teenage girls were doing and it was quite literally none of my concern. But now it’s out of hand.

I saw a man yesterday walking down the street wearing a heavy winter jacket and snow boots. In between the boots and the jacket were green and red Christmas flannel pajama bottoms.  I’m sure he was just out for a quick jaunt, perhaps to brush the snow off his car and thought he’d go unseen. He was wrong of course, how can one miss green and red pants on a guy amongst a sea of white snow? I must be too old fashioned. I’d never be caught dead outside in my pajama bottoms. Even if I have to run across the street to the convenient store, I put jeans on. Going outside in pajamas, simply isn’t done.

I was driving to my mother’s house yesterday when I saw another middle aged woman hurrying across the street. It was a very cold day yesterday and the wind was howling through the street. This woman was bundled in her tan coat, Knock-off Uggs and pink and light green flannel pajama bottoms. No wonder she was in a hurry, her legs must have been freezing. I shook my head again. Why in the world would you venture out in sleeping pants?  Is it just simple laziness? Are we now so self-indulgent that putting regular pants on to walk down the street is now beneath us? Are we so devoid of other people around us that we just don’t consider how much the rest of us don’t want to see what Great Aunt Tilly bought you for Christmas last year? I wouldn’t dream of it. I doubt anyone would want to see me gallivanting around the boulevards in my martini patterned sleeping pants. I mean, the only time it’s acceptable to be seen in your pajamas outside is if your house in burning down in the middle of the night and you and your family just escaped. Then, wear your pajamas where ever you like.

So America, please, put your pants on. It’s not too hard. One leg at a time.     

Friday Doughnuts

As much as I despair my job, there’s one bright spot in an otherwise lousy position. Free Doughnuts on Fridays. One of the many perks of being in the insurance industry I suppose. It is truly a delicious start to what will likely be a long and aggravating day.

Doughnuts are just cool. It’s that simple. They have the grand distinction of being so simple yet, otherworldly.  Doughnuts seem to make the morning that much more bearable. It’s is a little sad when the doughnut is gone however, like mine is, now. I miss you doughnut.

I digress; doughnuts have a long history in American and around the world. Almost every culture on the globe has a baked or fried sugary doughnut type of pastry. There’s some dispute as to the origin of the doughnut but they may go back as far as 1803, but again, it’s slightly controversial. Many people have taken some credit for the creation or invention of the doughnut through history but it’s hard to say with any real surety who did what when.  I’m just glad some person decided it was a treat to good to be forgotten.

It’s a funny thing when you miss your chance at a doughnut. I’ve arrived in the break room on occasion too late to get a hold of one of the sweet little guys. It’s a crippling punch in the stomach to miss the doughnuts. It’s like Christmas and your Birthday all wrapped into one day, but nobody got you any presents or even said, “Happy Birthmas”. There’s a child inside of you that pouts and tears start to slightly well up in their eyes. You also feel a little anger. “Who would just TAKE the last doughnut?! That S.O.B.”, and you pound your feet all the way back to your desk.

Now, halfway into this little article, I really miss my doughnut. It was an Old Fashioned with Chocolate frosting. I long for its doughy goodness. Perhaps I should just stop talking about my long gone doughnut and get focused on the tasks at hand today. Like getting more doughnuts. By digging a tunnel across the parking lot, under the viaduct and into the Dunkin Donuts across the way. Maybe. I think that would be an especially valuable use of my time today.

I wonder what I’ll have for lunch.

Another Thursday

Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? I’m quite sure I’ve seen you. I know you’ve been around. I know it. You’ve been hanging around the water cooler, chatting it up with all the fellas. I know you but I can’t quite place your name or face. I mean, I see you all the time, at least once a week for sure.

Who are you really and what’s your purpose here? Really, I don’t mean to be nosey or pry into your business but what are you doing here? I would appreciate an answer or some clue to your identity. Have you been coming around here long? Do you know me? Have you some greater purpose or goal?

Well, there’s no reason to be rude. If you don’t want to answer me then fine. I mean, it’s up to you I suppose. It’s your life and you can do what you like. It’s not up to me how you decide to behave in polite and proper society. I must say it's slightly inappropriate to remain silent in the matter.

Okay. I’ve had just about enough of you sir. Your silence is deafening and I can no longer tolerate it. I wish you would just go. Please leave your keys on the table and just go. One last thing, as you exit, please send that other fellow in, Friday I think is his name. Thanks.

Some people, sheesh.

On the bright side....

It occurred to me that Chicagoans appear to be optimists. I hear it every year once fall winds down and winter begins to push through with any rigor. “Oooh, I can’t believe how cold it is”, they say. Chicagoans are constantly surprised that it ever gets cold here. It’s as if they choose not to believe it as a possibility, even though it’s cold here eight months out of the year. We love our warm summer months and have a very difficult time accepting the reality of winter. We’d rather believe it won’t get that cold and we’ll be wearing shorts and sitting at the beach in no time.

I enjoy our collective optimism. It says a lot about who we are as Chicagoans. We believe in the impossibility of a short, warm winter even though history has shown us we’re likely in for a long and dreary snowbound hell. I like that about us. We really can’t believe winter has arrived or that snow has started to fall. But we’ll shovel our sidewalks and dream of warmer nights drinking al fresco.

We also seem to think that our sports teams, be they the Cubs, Sox, Blackhawks, Bears or the Bulls, will eventually win this year, or maybe the next or maybe the year after that. We refuse to give up our optimism about them and continue to root against the tides of history. Every so often we are rewarded for our faith and for a short time we can all revel in whatever championship the team won. Although Chicagoans don’t feel that the “Team” won, it was a collective city effort and we all reap the spoils. We were all part of the team. I think, in some ways, even in defeat we still hold our allegiances close to our hearts and continue to believe that next game or next season we’ll enter the hallowed halls of victory.

We also seem to think that things, in general, will get better. There are a lot of social and economic problems in Chicago; no one would ever deny that. But I do believe we try to take them on the chin and really think that eventually, everything will work out for the betterment of us all. Even if it takes 30 to 40 years to straighten it all out. (We’ll get that Olympics one day, I’m sure of it)

So here’s to us Chicagoans, we know winter will end, we know the Cubs will escape history, we know the city will survive without a Daley at the helm. We have faith in each other to see us through this cold, long winter and make plans for the summer block party of street fest.  Why look....the sun is shining.

Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day

There is nothing more terrifying than a return to the office after a five day break from work; the exception being getting the crap bombed out of you by Japanese Zeros. It certainly puts things in perspective though.

My job is often very trying and mentally exhausting, but it really is nothing compared to what those young men and women went through on December 7, 1941. A woefully unprepared American Navy was surprised by the Japanese and we really had our American asses handed to us. Mind you, we took a powerful and swift revenge in the end, but it was still something to behold.

I’m certainly not trying to liken myself to those men and women that died on Pearl Harbor.  My job, and frankly, my life are certainly nothing like theirs. For instance, I spent the majority of my time off from work half in the bag at my local bar. It was certainly an Irish vacation for sure. It wasn’t very meaningful and there were no grand photographic moments, but I did have some fun here and there. I’m very happy to have spent a lot of that time with the friends and people I’ve come to know.  But it wasn’t exactly the drama filled, action packed vacation we all think about having. Sadly there was no swinging from chandeliers or sunken treasures were discovered.

I found it difficult to get motivated to accomplish even the smallest of tasks, justifying it to myself by saying, “I’m on vacation”. But now, I’ll still have to do some of those things and in less time. Part of me thinks it was very foolish to waste that time and part of me says I shouldn’t be so hard on myself because in the end, I did have some fun. This is why I don’t normally take vacations; I can’t seem to resolve my absence from work and my overt laziness. If I had done something grand, then perhaps I wouldn’t feel like I just wasted that vacation time. But there’s no sense in dwelling on it. It’s come and gone and I’m here in the now of it.

So on this Remembrance Day, I’ll try to stay motivated to accomplish the minor tasks I have and try to stay upbeat about them. It’s certainly not like I’m struggling for my last breath in the belly of the U.S.S., Arizona. God Bless those men and women. I for one, will try to keep them in my thoughts while I deal with the moaning and groaning public; who couldn’t possibly fathom the pain those before them endured, yet persevered.