Vacation slides. Great American pasttime, no? Heres a picture of me at some big national park in Utah. Went there last summer and had a great time. Wish you were there. I actually appear smaller than I really am. I'm a biggun'.  

Call me sometime

Well I did it. I finally went out and bought a cell phone. Will someone please tell the people at Verizon that the last person on the planet not to have a cell phone has relented. Such a lovely shiny little object. Such a pretty little color screen. Over 1,000 different ringtones. Dozens and dozens of options. Games, weather, news. And I don't know how to use a single one of them. I had a hell of a time just trying to answer a call (my wife calling just to welcome me the the celluar age). Thank God I have a teenage daughter to set it up for me and give me a lesson on how to use the little bastard. I should have taken notes. Forget the manual. It's about the size of a half a piece of toast. A piece of toast with over 100 pages that is. It's supposed to be a pretty good phone. The only one better in this brand is a camera phone. Why I would want pictures of me talking on my cell phone I'll never know. Meanwhile my daughter has entered everyones phone number into my new shiny little object. Don't ask me how to retrive them. Don't know, don't care. I don't even like talking on the phone. If I do need to call you then trust me I've written your number down in my little address book. It's in my back pocket always. I may be the last to actually carry a small address book and a little note book with me all the time. I also carry a pen to write with just in case. Crap there goes that hideous tone that's supposed to be a ringtone. I think it's suppose to be a Backstreet Boys song (probably a joke courtesy of my daughter).

Mr. Spock put it on main screen...

My first attempt at moving forward with this blog. A picture of me driving in the desert.

Never say .....

In honor of the upcoming election I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I will most likely Not become president of the United States. In that same vein I'll even say I probably won't become king of the world. Notice a little word missing? A little word I don't like using. A word we should all avoid? That word is NEVER. As in never say NEVER. Do you realize how long never is? I believe it extends into forever. That's a long time. Don't get me wrong. I know someday that word will apply to all of us. But not today. Can you imagine saying that you will never kick a football at the annual family thanksgiving game at the park again. That you will never dance at a loved one's wedding again. That you'll never make love to your sweetheart again. (See how that word sucks) Never is such a long time. Never means not ever again forever. I repeat myself, but only to make a point. There are so many people laying under soft grass and under large shade trees. People with stone markers and dead flowers above them. They can use that word NEVER. But not you and I. As long as both you and I breath there is a chance. Sometimes very slim, but still a chance. If you believe you will never love again there is still a chance that your one true soul mate will come to your table in that crowed restaurant and ask to borrow your salt. If you believe you will never walk again there is still a chance that the phone will ring tomorrow bringing news of a new experimental treatment they would like to try. If you believe today will never be as good as yesterday there is still a chance that the darkness will pass bringing the beautiful light of a new dawn. So please do me this small favor. With all your heart try to avoid that word. And who knows, maybe someday when you see me you'll be able to say here comes president ezrick. You could always write my name in that little write in candidate box.

What are you waiting for?

Here's good news for people my age: Did you know that the new freshman class in college this year was born in 1986? What the hell! I hate to say it but I do have shoes older than that. It seems that '86 is just a blink of an eye away. What a rip-off. With momentum, life truly speeds up. In grade school class would end at 2:30. You would sit at your desk at 2:25 and suffer thru the longest 5 minutes of your life. That short amount of time could seem like years. You felt each second. Come on I've got serious playing to do. Jeff is gonna show us where he found a dead frog yesterday. Bugs Bunny cartoons start at 3:00. I have left over soda in the ice box. Now twenty years can pass in a second. This whole age thing is very sneaky. We look at ourselves everyday and don't even notice the changes. That whole aging process. I look in the mirror and I see a twenty-year old. Not some pudgy forty-something with the start of grey hair. I said start of grey hair to make myself feel better. Truth is it's been graying for quite awhile. But anyway, is that it? What do I do now? Wait for retirement, then wait to die? Well Mr Time you can kiss my big old ass! Ever hear of Michangelo? He was kinda a famous artist. Painted some building called the Sistine Chapel. Had to lay on his back to paint it. Had to lay on his back on top on wooden scaffoding 100 feet above the floor. Took him over two years to do it. Oh yeah he was 89 years old when he started that little job. You know what that says to me? There is no retirement. You want life? Find what you love to do and do it 'till you can't do it no more. As far as anyone truly knows this little life play were in is it. There may be golden trumpets after death (no one knows for sure). There may be reincanation (but if you do come back you won't know it). But as far as anyone really knows, this life is it. No do overs. Is there some place you want to go? Then go there. What are you waiting for? A room upgrade? Who cares what kind of room you get. Your not going to be in it that long anyway. Just go. If you go now you won't be able to eat at the finest restaurants there. So what. Don't you get it? You'll be there. Like I always say: If your car breaks down at the beach do you get upset that your car won't start, or do you say, "hey I'm at the beach". Maybe your just waiting till you get a little bit older. Well guess what? You are.

A Life Well Lived

I miss my grandfather. He lived a life you and I can't live anymore. A truly simple life. I don't know a whole lot about him but I'll tell you what I can. I know he worked hard in a vineyard. He worked hard at home. He had eight children and never collected a welfare dime. He had a house and never paid a landlord. He owned what he had or he didn't have it. He didn't have a license to drive so he walked everywhere. He would walk miles, to work, to town, to the hardware store. He ate very simply. Chicken that he raised, rice, beans, vegetables from his own yard. Every day he would rise at dawn. Coffee from a bowl, some bread then he would head outside. No TV, no computer, not even a cell phone. He had more important things to do in his back yard. Tend his fruit trees. Paint his shed. Care for the chickens. Make wine. He would have me sit next to him on a wooden bench and teach me to write my name in the dirt with a small tree branch. He had a small stone basement under the house that had a work bench with old wooden tools, old musty boxes and a portable radio that would play traditional Mexican folk tunes. What I remember most about this small room was no matter how hot the day the basement was always cool. Also this is where he kept the Hershey's candy bars. He would buy a large box of chocolate bars and pass them out to myself and my cousins depending on how good we were that day. I got more chocolate than I deserved. He taught me how to make a fire outdoors to cook the Christmas tamales. He taught me how to peel a cactus prickly pear so that no thorns would stick my fingers. And he would read to me from the paper, slowly, pointing at each word with his finger. Not bad for someone, who English was a second language. He didn't care what kind of car you drove or how big your house was. Were you a good man and did you love and care for your family? That was important to him. He would never say anything to the grandkids if he felt they were doing something wrong. But he had such a disappointed look on his face that you knew. That look could make you turn away in shame. It made you want to do what was right. His was a generation that was black and white, no grey. There was right and there was wrong. You did what was right. You didn't make excuses. You stood up for your family. You provided for them. If that meant nines hours a day under the hot sun in a vineyard that's what you did. You put your faith in God and yourself. Between the two of you there was no problem you couldn't work out. This was how he lived. And it carried him well into his nineties. Until one day while sitting under the shade of his apricot tree eating one of his favorite foods, a popsicle, the Lord said his job was done. He quietly slumped in his chair and left us all. No long hospital stay. Just a departure from his home that he had taken care of for so long. It was as they say a life well lived. We can only hope for the same for us.

Pass the Fat

I don't think I'm too far off base when I say "people of my generation are pretty big". If you look at the title of this blog you can tell I'm no exception. When I came of age food was of no importance. Finding your inner self was important. Finding new ways to bend your thoughts was important. Food was what you had when you got lucky and "crashed" at someone's house that just happened to have something edible in the refrigerator. "Anyone know how to cook these pizza rolls?" When the time came to put away our inner self and get jobs we found we could finally afford to go into a supermarket and buy our own food. And man did we. Who knew food could be such a good replacement for inner peace. There was some control in that food took so long to cook. You wanted to over eat but it took too long. Big bushiness had the answer. MICROWAVE OVENS! You want popcorn with extra butter give me 3 minutes. How about bean and cheese burritos? Got an extra 60 seconds. Wanna find out how dependent we've become on these little metal boxes? Put your favorite left overs on a plate. Ummm left-over pork chops and corn. Now un-plug your microwave. Now figure out how to heat up your left-overs. Maybe we just didn't eat left-overs in the sixties. To busy rolling you know what. Let's end the horror and plug that baby back in. Of course that still leaves us with a little problem: stomachs that enter a room a few seconds before us. Well science is working hard on helping us. New exercise machines that are "fun". In fact they do most of the work for you. The little white pills you can take. They burn off all that fat inside you. Question. How do those pills know to burn just fat and not something else like ,oh I don't know, your liver? Of course there's plenty of diets to try. Eat all you want and still lose weight. My favorite is the no carb diets. Atkins and such. Let me see if I've got this right. For breakfast I can eat a pound of bacon, half a dozen eggs covered in cheese and all I have to do is skip the toast. Sign me up. Ah the miracle of science. Gotta go I hear a side of beef mooing for me. Bon appetite.

Sorry blog, forgot all about you. It's an age thing. Brain cells tend to bead up then roll off my head. Sneaky little devils. Maybe this is why I'm no longer part of that target group that advertisers love (18 to 45). They spend all that money on ads trying to pull the cash out of my wallet and I just forget their commercials five minutes later. "Damn what was the name of that new cola that I couldn't be cool without?" I can't even remember what fast food place sells the burgers at a hip hop pace. What the hell is hip hop anyways? No I'm more the black socks in sandal's type (no matching problems with black) standing in line at the local buffet restaurant. Ah the early bird specials. I guess you can tell I'm not into rap that much. Don't get me wrong, I do love music, it's just that all the current styles have passed me by. You kids with your IPods and your MP3 players. Little machines for little music. You call that rock? When I was your age music was BIG! Big rock coming from big 8 track tapes. Big 12" records too. The type that scratched the first time you played them. Back then scratching was bad (and I don't mean good). And the music came out of real speakers about the size of refrigerators. For some reason today's music systems are all backwards. Car stereos are big and loud enough for a small arena, while home systems fit in a shoe box. Go figure. You may not be able to hear music very well at home but don't worry just hop in your car and you can listen to music from the car four lanes over. On the freeway. Doing 70 mph. No wonder kids today are always going "what?". Well I have more to say but I see some dude grabbing his walker trying to get to the last of the bread pudding before me. Out of the way sister I'm on a mission.

When did I become so uncool? I slid right from that 19 to 45 age that all advertisers crave to that group that craves early bird specials at the buffet restaurant. Now I'm in that black socks with sandals generation. Turn down that noise you call music! That's not rock. Rock is music performed by the greats: Led Zepplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jackson Five. I'm old enough to remember when MTV actually played music videos. You kids with your IPods. Your MP3s. Little music from little machines. My generations' music was big, BIG! Big radios with big 8track tapes. Big speakers the size of refrigerators. Big 12" records that scratched the first time you played them. Back then to scratch a record was BAD (and I don't mean good). Big music festivals like the US festival and California Jam. Big clouds of dust and smoke would rise from the big fields we would stand in to listen and see our gods. Black Sabbath, Emerson Lake and Palmer, that's all I can remember. I had a pretty BIG buzz back then. In the olden days (like 1975) when you got the 2am munchies you had to settle for Jack in the Box. Nothing else was open. And man I mean nothing. " Yeah mister clown I would like 12 Jumbo Jacks and 12 French fries and 1 diet Coke. Hey you guys want anything?" I pity this generation never knowing what fun it is to wake up in the morning on your bedroom floor with a mouth full of avocado green shag carpet and puka shells all knotted in your long hippie hair. Man those were the days. Gotta go now. That old bastard at table six is making a run for the last of the bread pudding. Peace and Love.

Who Is Truly Free...

I went to work today. How about you? I work Monday through Friday. I come home turn on the TV then wait for tomorrow to go to work again. But wait. I do own the TV. In fact I own a home to put it in. I also own a couple of cars to take my wife and I to work and back again. I own a big steel box to put food in (need to do something while I'm watching the TV and waiting to go back to work). When nature calls I have my pick of two small rooms for instant relief. No need to find the nearest tree. When I can stand the idiocy of TV no more I have a large cool comfortable bed to lie on and a warm loving wife to lay next to. 'Tis truly the American dream.  Today at this job I saw a woman. Not just any woman but a woman you and I may feel sorry for. She was alone and drove an old Dodge van. Peeling faded paint, rusted bumpers and filled with every possession she owned.  She pulled into the parking lot at my work parked under a tree got out and immediately walked to the trash dumpster. Looking in she gave a smile and climbed right in.  She brought out empty soda cans and plastic bottles. When she saw I was watching her she simply said hello and went back to her work. She came across a couple of boxes of old letter heads from the business next door . She asked if they belong to anyone and I told her being in the trash meant no one wanted them. She told me they were worth a lot of money at the recycle center.  With efficiency  she removed everything she thought had value. Walking quickly to her van she pulled out an old hand cart and rolled it to the dumpster. She was no invalid, she was not weak. She knew what she was doing and she did it very well. After loading her van she brought down a tired looking bike that hung on the back of her van. Squeezing the tires to check the air she actually produced a small bicycle pump from her van and put a little air into each tire. She then jumped into the passenger seat of the van and began reading some type of book.  I don't know what she did next I had to get back to "work".  I thought about her for most of the day. How tragic. How sad. When it was time to leave for the day I looked towards the tree where she had been parked but she was long gone. Driving home to my TV, I wondered if I should really feel sorry for her. She was obviously doing what she wanted to. I was going home to wait for tomorrow. Thinking about her again I have to wonder, who is truly free. Who can go where they want when they want. Not I. I have to many people and companies waiting for money. I have a promise to fulfill. To be at a certain place for a certain amount of time everyday Monday thru Friday. Of course I have gotten used to not having to find a tree every time nature calls.

Even For One More Day

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again: We will all be dead a lot longer than alive so enjoy life while you can. This death thing is forever. Life is very temporary. I know of two deaths exactly one week apart from each other. The first was a young women who had played soccer with my daughter for many, many years. A bright cute girl with endless possibilities for the future. She must not have seen those possibilities and instead saw only darkness ahead of her.  On July 8th she walked onto a freeway overpass, climbed an eight foot fence and jumped onto the freeway below. What could be so terrible for a young girl that this seemed like the only answer? I know that life can be very very hard. But like I said we are here for such a short while.  It must be worth it to try and do what ever we can to fix our problems even if it's just to live a little longer. Such sadness for her family and friends.  Now they must figure out how to keep going.   The second death was a dear aunt of mine.  On July 15th she breathed her last. She had lived a long life true. She had children that loved her dearly. Strong healthy grandchildren too. She also had advanced diabetes. From what I hear at some point she needed amputating. Of course she didn't want this, who would. Many delays followed. By the time she had agreed to the necessary  treatment it was too late. Long life? Yes. But to have even one more day with your family. How much is that worth? I pray that when my time comes, and it will, that I will not go quietly into the night, but rather kicking and screaming and fighting to the end. This is my prayer for all of us. Even one more day can be so precious.

Is This Thing On?

Hello is this thing on? If you can read this I must be doing something right.  God knows I can't read it. Can't find my glasses right now. Yes I am a baby boomer. Yes I am forty-something.  And to any young ones reading this all I can say is that middle-age sucks.  Of course it's not all bad. If it were I'd be smoking car exhaust in my garage right now. I can stay up as late as I want (to bad I fall asleep in my chair by 9pm) I can eat whatever I want (a quarter-pounder hamburger adds at least five pounds to my waist). And I now qualify for "final arrangements" insurance. Did you know the average funeral today can cost over $6,000? So come with me now on this journey to points unknown. The road at times may be bumpy, it may have many curves. But I know too that at times it will be beautiful and always filled with some type of humor.