The Bench

In the highly competitive world of dating and relationships, have you ever found yourself feeling like you are constantly coming off the bench?  Do you get the sneaky feeling that you are a back-up, a last resort, or a role player?  The "role" being that of a booty call or perhaps something that just feels comfortable...you know...like an extra large raggedy sweat shirt.  What happens when you look up one day and find yourself at what seems like the very end of the bench?  Don't worry yourself with how the hell you got there.  Just ask yourself... How the fuck do I get back in the game?


There are a few ways that I can see...

The Trade

Put the time into bettering yourself.  Work on your "shot".  Wait until you're ready for free-agency and then get the hell off the team!  You have something to offer.  You have skills that have yet to be discovered.  Take your talents to South Beach like LeBron James if necessary, but GET OUT!  Why be on the bench with one team when you can be the star on a team that appreciates all that you bring to the table?

Sign an Extension

Look, this all depends on where exactly you are in your "contract".  The beginning?  Perhaps this is the option for you.  Give it some time.  See if things settle down.  The middle?  It could really go either way.  Where do you see this "team" going?  Is there any real potential to win?  The end?  I've never been one for sticking around just because something is comfortable and familiar.  Who wants to waste their time on something that has never and probably will never work?   If you're at the ass end, it's probably time to venture into free agency.    

Retirement

While this seems like the best option when you're feeling down and out, you should probably save this option for last.  After all...40 is the new 20...60 the new 40...so on and so forth.  No need to step away from the game while you are still in your prime!


After years of being an option and a bench player (both in and out of a relationship), I've come to realize that I have way more to offer on the court than I do on the sidelines.  I've allowed others to place me on the bench as a "just in case".  Well, I'm putting the world on notice.  I won't be a second, third, or twelfth option!   I won't be the asshole who comes in only for a trick play or when all other options have dried up.  I will be THE option.  I don't need to lead the league in scoring.  I just need to be the number one option on my particular team.  Hopefully I didn't lose you with all my sports metaphors or bore you to death.  I just couldn't help but notice all the similarities between sports and relationships.

The Bottom Line: Too many options is a nightmare when you are a child.  Let a child have too many choices and they will either pick everything or nothing at all.  Sometimes it doesn't change when we grow up.  At times, we can be a bunch of semi-responsible extra large children.  It's unfortunate.  There are too many teams to play for in the world for you to just accept being the last of many options.

Shine like the star you are!  


   

It's Midnight. Now What?

I've written about facilitating your own fairy tale in my piece entitled:  Get Your Ass In The Pumpkin!!!!  So, what happens when you get in the pumpkin, show up for the big event with your brave face on, and the clock still has the nerve to strike midnight?

I can deal with the vanishing fancy clothes.  I can manage making my way around town in my own ride.  Hell, I've got enough flip-flops to keep me from really missing a stray shoe.  At the same time, what I can't seem to deal with is all the questions that inevitably follow.  Does anyone care enough to return my "shoe"?  How long will it take for "Prince Charming" to realize that's it's not normal to find one random shoe just lying around?  Is Prince Charming only interested in bangin me in the back of the pumpkin?  And here we go...Question after question, with not a real answer in sight.

Does the answer lie within?  Maybe I should be happy to have had one night with a Prince.  Perhaps I should just be grateful to be a part of a magical evening that not many people have the chance to experience.  I believe there is a balance to be found between complacency and contentment. I'm just not sure I understand how to achieve it.

While all my above ramblings seem metaphorical, the reality is that people all over the world struggle with with this issue every single time they open themselves up to someone they care about.  Everyone wants a happy ending.  Most people want to believe that love is possible, even in the most unlikely places. While I still wholeheartedly believe that a fairy tale takes effort, there are some things which are simply out of our control.


The Bottom Line:  While getting your ass in the pumpkin is important, one has to prepare for what happens next. We can't just plan for that one fairy tale moment in life.  We have to give consideration to what happens once the clock strikes midnight.  After all, who wants to be seen running all over town wearing rags?  

Groundhog Day

Human behavior is a very curious and ridiculous thing.  As children, we learn tough lessons about touching hot surfaces. We touch a hot pan or place our hand in the oven and instantly learn that we shouldn't touch things that are too hot. When I was growing up, I learned that if I talked back to my mother, I'd get my ass whipped.  The pain of the spanking was enough to keep me on the straight and narrow most days.  

When it comes to love and life in general, things tend to be remarkably different. We can make the same mistakes over and over and over again and we keep going right back for more.  We can even be privy to the past experiences of others and we couldn't care less.  Cautionary tales and sorted horror stories aren't even enough to prevent us from heading face-first into life's "brick walls".   

I've been told my entire life... "Everyone has to make their own mistakes."  As I get older, I can't help but ask... Why?  Why do we have to make our own mistakes?  Why don't we learn from the proof that is right before our eyes?  Is it arrogance?  Maybe we think that we are above making the same miscalculations that our predecessors did.  Perhaps it's a sense of inevitability that we give in to...I'm going to screw up anyway so why not?

As stupid as the notion that everyone HAS to make mistakes sounds, it seems to be some sort of "law" of nature.  I'm learning though, that there is a fine line between making your own mistakes and being fully engaged in your very own Groundhog Day.  

The Bottom Line:  As Samantha Jones from Sex and the City says: Have fun, just don't have amnesia.  Being doomed to repeat history is not the only option.  Perhaps we should walk the path of the shepherd rather than that of the sheep. 

Take a Brake

My Car's Brake Pad

(In my best Golden Girl Sophia Petrillo voice)  Picture it... Friday, September 14...I'm making my way to the park for my 3 mile run.  I pull up to my normal parking space and try to come to a stop.  My foot (and brake pedal) hit the floor.  My car keeps rolling.  Luckily, I wasn't going fast and there was nothing in front of me.  I was able to come to a stop using my emergency brake.  When my brake pedal hit the floor, I heard something that sounded like metal hit the ground.  I'd find out later it was my brake pad (shown above) or what was left of it anyway.  

I spent the entire weekend trapped in the house.  My mechanic was not available until Monday.  I had all sorts of plans.  They were all promptly canceled. I spent the entire weekend confined to my home like Lindsay Lohan or Martha Stewart (minus the sexy ankle bracelet).  In the hours that passed, I think I did more cleaning, organizing, and DVD watching than I'd done in the entire last year.  

During this sequestration, I also had way too much time to think.  It was painful at times.  In the week following the brake pad incident, I couldn't help but notice how rusty and greasy and gross it was (yes, I kept it lying around on my desk...don't judge me!).  To me, it looked exactly how that weekend at home felt.  Then it kind of clicked... The "brake break" was a good thing!  I'd finally come to realize that I needed that weekend.  I needed that moment for my world to stop spinning.  I needed the noise of being social to quiet.  I needed to face some things that I'd been ignoring.  Had I not been forced to stop, my personal revelations may have taken months to surface.  

As cliche as it sounds, sometimes we really do need the world around us to pause...the sports, the movies, the bars, the clubs, the parties, the dates, and the rest of the social butterfly routine.  Taking an extended moment to acknowledge our feelings, desires, fears, hopes, and dreams can be invaluable.  It can be invigorating.  It can be life-saving.  

The Bottom Line:

The next time you have to slam on your brakes, consider this...Sometimes the only way to get a break is to hit the brakes.  Remember, a break isn't a bad thing.  Not taking one can be.

Humans, Muhammad, and 100 Other Devils

Muhammad

Prophet of Islam

Muslim protesters all over the world are decrying the fact that Americans are disrespecting their religion and the "prophet Muhammad".   It's curious that as with every other religion on Earth, many people in the Islamic faith pick and choose which of their religious beliefs/laws they will adhere to.  I've grown tired of hearing how Islam is about peace when Muslims burn and destroy the world around them.  Religion (of any kind) has never been about peace.  It has always been about power.  Men, women, and children are killed, discriminated against, harassed, denigrated, shamed, manipulated, brainwashed, molested, lied to, subjected to war, and betrayed.  All this as a means to gain power.

It's about time people wake up and realize that there is only one way to god. The way to god lies within.  Your relationship with god is not a weapon.  It's not a tool.  It's not a pardon.  It's not an excuse.

The Bottom Line:
Jesus, Satan, and Muhammad all have more in common than people would like to admit.  The next time you sit down in your church pew, kneel at your local mosque, dance around the aisles, or "fall out in the spirit", consider this...

Religion was created by men, for men, to control and destroy men.

There is nothing godly about that.  

البشر، محمد، و 100 أخرى الشياطين

Muhammad

Prophet of Islam

محتجون مسلمون في جميع أنحاء العالم وشجب حقيقة أن الأميركيين عدم احترام دينهم و "النبي محمد". انها الغريب أن كل دين كما هو الحال مع آخر على وجه الأرض، كثير من الناس في العقيدة الإسلامية انتقاء واختيار أي من معتقداتهم الدينية / القوانين التي سوف تلتزم بها. لقد نمت أنا تعبت من سماع كيف أن الإسلام هو السلام عند المسلمين حرق وتدمير العالم من حولهم. الدين (من أي نوع) لم يكن أبدا عن السلام. فقد كان دائما عن السلطة. وقتل الرجال والنساء والأطفال، للتمييز والمضايقة، تسيء وأحرجت، التلاعب، غسيل دماغ، تحرش، كذب على، التعرض للحرب، وخيانة. كل هذا كوسيلة للوصول الى السلطة.

ولكن عن الناس الوقت تفيق وتدرك أنه لا يوجد سوى طريقة واحدة لإله. الطريق إلى الله يكمن داخل. علاقتك مع الله ليس سلاحا. انها ليست الأداة. انها ليست العفو. انها ليست عذرا.

خلاصة القول:
يسوع، الشيطان، ومحمد جميعا أكثر شيوعا مما في الناس يرغبون في الاعتراف به. في المرة القادمة التي تجلس في مقعد كنيسة الخاص بك، يركع في المسجد المحلي الخاص بك، والرقص حول الممرات، أو "تسقط في الروح"، والنظر في هذا ...

تم إنشاء الدين من قبل الرجال، للرجال، للسيطرة وتدمير الرجال.

لا يوجد شيء إلهي عن ذلك.

Stripped

Shown Above: Male Stripper by Marlene Dumas 1999

I had sex with a male stripper today.  Now, get that manure munching look off your face and continue reading.  Yes, you read correctly.  That, however, is not the point.  I make no apologies.  I say the things that need to be said.  Think what you will, I am now a firm believer in the saying "strippers need love too".

After what has seemed like way too long, I decided to allow myself to let loose and have a little responsible fun.  I met a stripper (dancer) who I will call "Peter".  I think that's appropriate.  Peter and I met via a social network app; but that's not important either.  What is important is that I got a first-hand look into the life of one of these mythical creatures.  These unicorns of night-life.  What I experienced left me a little sad and abundantly pensive.


I met a beautiful yet lonely soul.  I saw a man who was  clinging to boyhood.  I witnessed someone with hardly a friend in the world.  He was a person who, on the outside, was desirable beyond words; with eyes that could entrance anyone.  I saw someone who is an object of lust for many men...and a few confused women.  I met an individual who couldn't see his own worth.  This man had so much, yet not nearly enough.  I wondered, how does a person get to this point?  I could speculate for days.  I won't though.  

What I will take away from this experience is that there are many people in the world who are in desperate need of a loving influence in life.  Some people go about finding this in all the wrong ways.  Some spend the majority of their lives seeking this in the eyes and words of strangers.  Some, wade in the pool of familiarity, seeking the very same affirmation and love from those they know.  If one doesn't love one's self, one can quickly become none.

The Bottom Line: Sex with strippers may be shocking, laughable, or perhaps even disgusting.  I never back away from my decisions.  I never make excuses, nor do I have the desire to justify my very grown up life.  I will say that it turned out to be way more than hot sex.  It was a lesson in the power of love and the devastation that having no love can inflict.  Life is short.  Love yourself.  Don't get lost in another's eyes.

King of Kings

I have been an outspoken critic of organized religion for quite some time now.  Having been in church leadership, I've seen most everything.  What I witnessed today, however, blew me away.

A church filled to the brim with sweaty, irrational, mindless sheep stood cheering as a man was declared a "king".  It should also be noted that the song Prepare Ye The Way (Of Our Lord) was being played as the very-married, barely-legal boy-lover was ushered around on his bootleg Office Max throne.  The good "Rabbi" Ralph Messer randomly shouted in Hebrew to lend authenticity to this exercise in narcissism.  Add spot lights and a choir in the background practically foaming at the mouth and there you have it... a coronation ceremony.

See the entire coronation here...

This moment...this awful car-accident...couldn't be a better example of everything wrong in organized religion.  It's not completely "King" Eddie Long's fault.  He wouldn't be a "king" without subjects following him.  I don't know what scares me more; the fact that he has the nerve to allow this in the first place, or that so many people would blindly follow this man to destruction.  It's truly a toss-up.

I hope for Eddie Long's sake, that God has a better sense of humor about all this than I do.  Eddie looked quite nervous throughout. Maybe he was worried about his henchmen accidentally dropping him all over the stage...maybe he was secretly waiting for a giant lightning bolt to strike him in his giant forehead.  I guess we may never know.  I do know this much, that whole "I want to be like god" thing...didn't work out so well for Lucifer.

The Bottom Line:
Scandal Schmandal - When life hands you lemons, make yourself King.  I believe sheep everywhere should be offended by the comparisons made here today.

Blank

Have you ever wondered what Writer's Block looks like?  Well, here it is.  I've been at a loss for words for the better part of a few months now.  My last resort is to write about not being able to write.  I'm hoping this works like getting rid of a ghost.  Acknowledge it...then release it to the great beyond.  I can only hope it goes down like that.

The current situation I'm in did get me to thinking about sources for inspiration.  I wonder why it can be so hard to feel inspired during times of peace and quiet.  It seems that artists of all kinds produce their best work while stressed, depressed, oppressed, or something along those lines.  Why is it that tragedy brings out the best in us?  Great songs are penned while grief stricken.  You rarely hear a really great song about how perfect someone's life is.  Sports teams thrive under negative criticisms or while being the underdog (unless you are the Dallas Cowboys).  Does adversity bring out our inner superhero?  Do we need equal parts tragedy and triumph in order to maintain a certain acceptable level of greatness?  I'm not sure I have the answer.  I'm a thinker.  I like to ponder on subjects...meditate on them.  Maybe that's the source of my greatness.  Perhaps it's a signal that I'm in need of medication.  :-)  Who knows?  I've maintained for years now, that a balance in life is necessary.  I just never applied that logic to having a need for tragedy.  Maybe that's why we self-sabotage at times.  Could it be our spirits telling us that we are out of balance and perhaps low on adversity?

I feel as though this blocked moment is temporary for me.  Life is full of difficulty and lessons to be learned.  I'm pretty sure that something will pop up any day now and inspire the shit out of me!  Until then, I will accept where I am.  I will value the role hardship plays in my life.

I'm not sure I'd be who I am without it.

The Bottom Line:
None of us like adversity or tragedy.  When we make peace with the idea that it's a valuable part of life, we can begin to see it differently.  We can learn from our trials rather than let them destroy us.  After all, without a little adversity, we'd all be "blank pages".