It’s all about soul. It’s all about joy that comes out of sorrow. The power of love and the power of healing. This life isn’t fair. It’s gonna get dark, it’s gonna get cold. You’ve got to be tough, but that ain’t enough. It’s all about soul. – Billy Joel

Several years ago I wrote a little ditty about Mother’s Day in which I provided some background on the holiday, spoke a bit about my own mother, and encouraged anyone fortunate enough to still have theirs around to visit or give her a call. However, in the years that I’ve been doing this thing that I do I don’t believe I’ve ever written exclusively about my Mom, and the twenty-year anniversary of her death seems like an appropriate time to change that. Don’t worry…I’m not going to get all sentimental & weepy. Well…not too much anyway. I don’t want to deify my mother or describe her in unrealistically glowing terms. Mom was a human being just like the rest of us, but she was my mother and I loved her.

My father has taught me many valuable lessons throughout my life, but two stand out. The first one being that even when a person might be really nice & sympathetic to “the poor little crippled boy” they’ve pretty much barely left the room before they forget all about me because people have their own problems. That has been huge for me. It made me understand that the world doesn’t owe me anything and that politeness, good manners, & empathy (all good things) are vastly different from true love, caring, & friendship. The second thing that Dad taught me was that…because of my disability and the tangential health issues that are part of the package (I’ve had over 30 surgeries in my lifetime)…my Mom did more for me in a single week than most mothers have to do for their kids in an entire year. She was 25 years old when I was born and already had a three-year old daughter, but dealing with a newborn who was paralyzed and faced an uncertain future had to be a daunting task. Thankfully there was plenty of familial support, but she was clearly my primary caregiver, and there are no words in existence to properly thank her for everything she did for me. I have always felt…for lack of a better way of expressing it…a sense of guilt because my parents were young adults in their mid-20’s with everything in front of them and then I came along and suddenly their whole world changed. The older I get the more I understand (or atleast try to) what that must have been like and I am so…humbled…by it.

I don’t know if anyone would have described Mom as tough before she got married and had kids, but certainly life toughened her up. Don’t misunderstand…she was kind, soft-spoken, & as down-to-earth as anyone, but when circumstances called for it she could open up a can o’ whoopass. Certainly she fought many battles for me in my childhood, from dealing with the medical establishment (always a fun chore) to opening the eyes of an education system who couldn’t wrap their heads around the idea that a physical handicap did not mean that I was also mentally impaired. I appreciate the fact that my mother wasn’t afraid to speak her mind or stand up for what’s right. My sister & I absolutely benefitted from parents who had standards…they expected us to be respectful, do good in school, & behave. We weren’t permitted to run around like entitled savages and were properly punished when we did act up, discipline that has undoubtedly made us better adults.

Sadly, just as my health had begun to stabilize and the school drama had gotten figured out Mom developed her own health issues. Her aging doctor (who probably should have been retired) kept telling her she had a cold, but she knew better. A new doctor took one look at her and diagnosed her with asthma. Over the next 19 years she had to go into the hospital semi-frequently for what she referred to as a tune-up, take breathing treatments multiple times each day, and consume numerous medications daily. In hindsight I recognize how her health deteriorated slowly, but in the moment I was just a kid, growing up into a teenager, going to school, and living what I considered to be a fairly normal life. I was away at college when Mom was diagnosed with cancer and had to have a lung removed. My mother never smoked a day in her life. Her father had issues with alcohol so she had no use for any of those kinds of proclivities…she was as straitlaced as they come. In our humanity we can’t help but ask “why” and search for logical explanations, but sometimes there are no conclusive answers. Five years after the lung was removed my mother was gone, and we found out after the fact that the cancer had returned. Sometimes we don’t see God’s blessings when they occur, but now I understand that Mom’s ending could have been much more horrific & painful if she had lingered as the cancer spread.

I will never forget looking into her eyes as she lay in the hospital hooked up to life support, visibly aware of what was happening to her but unable to speak and powerless to do anything about it. Those moments will haunt me for the rest of my life. I will never forget how it was a balmy 70 degrees on the day of her funeral…a rarity during February in this part of the country and an absolute blessing given the circumstances.

So now here we are two decades later. I’m just five years younger than Mom was when she died. I don’t know whether my life or the lives of my father, sister, & nephews would have turned out all that differently had she lived. My mistakes and my shortcomings are my own responsibility. However, I oftentimes think that she might have made a positive difference…either by gently guiding me in the right direction or by being the kind of stern parent to call me out on my foolishness. I learned a long time ago that both methods can be effective depending upon particular circumstances. Regardless, all I know is that there has been a void in my life for the past 20 years…a sense of loss from which I’ve never quite recovered. On the other hand, when I read or hear about situations in which small children or even teenagers lose their mother I realize that I was blessed to have mine until I was an adult.

Millions of people lose loved ones every day, often under tragic circumstances. My family isn’t unique or special in that regard. I’m a grown man with a job, bills, & responsibilities who no longer needs my Mommy to fight my battles, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss her. I’d do just about anything to have one more conversation with her, to be able to say a proper goodbye. However, life rarely works like that, right?? Mom had a saying: “give me my roses while I’m alive”. We appreciated all of the people that came to her funeral all those years ago, and there is no doubt that the cards, flowers, food, & words of comfort were meant with deepest sincerity, but while those things provide a notion of solace to the family they obviously don’t benefit the dearly departed. So give your friends & family their roses now. Call. Visit. Text. Hit them up on Messenger. Hug them. Thank them. Tell them you love them. The day will come when you can no longer do any of that, and the feeling of loss may diminish but never disappears.

Life moves forward. I oftentimes wonder how my mother would react to certain things. Would she think that “reality” TV is as stupid as I do?? What would she think of smartphones?? Would she give a rat’s petoot about social media?? I know she’d be proud of her two grandsons. They were little children when she passed and now they’re 20-somethings with lives of their own, complete with all of the requisite responsibilities & issues that come with adulthood. I wish she could have watched them grow up. I wish they could have had their grandmother as long as I had both of mine. I wish my parents could’ve grown old together and helped each other thru their “golden years”. I know I’m focusing on my mother at the moment, but my Dad is simply the best and I know he misses Mom as much as my sister & I do. He and two of his cousins all got married within several months of each other back in the day, and last year both of those cousins celebrated their 50^th wedding anniversaries with surprise parties given by their children. It made me profoundly sad that Dad didn’t get the same opportunity.

I’m not sure I have a lyrical conclusion to all of this or even a cohesive point. I got up this morning and went to work. It was a typical, ordinary Sunday in most ways. I now work in the same hospital where I was born & my mother died. Well, it’s a different hospital but the same building, if that makes any sense. I couldn’t help but become a little bit emotional today, although I think I did a decent job of hiding it from those I encountered. I feel like it is important to mark the occasion. I don’t know if anyone else but me will ever read these words, and if anyone does they might get the impression that I’m a bundle of neuroses. So be it. The truth is that I’m doing okay. Thru all the ups & downs and all the hardships & victories I have felt the hand of God in my life. I am blessed beyond what I have any right to expect, and my first blessing was my mother.

Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies. The heart of her husband safely trusts her, so he will have no lack of gain. She does him good and not evil all the days of her life. She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household. She extends her hand to the poor, she reaches out her hands to the needy. Strength and honor are her clothing. She shall rejoice in time to come. She opens her mouth with wisdom and on her tongue is the law of kindness. She watches over the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed. Her husband also, and he praises her. Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. (Proverbs 31)

Back in 2011, when Rocco wasn’t yet three years old, I made the decision to dedicate a page here at The Manofesto exclusively to him. However, like so many ideas that have sparked over the years I failed to follow thru. That’s been one of my weaknesses in life…I procrastinate, become lazy, and don’t follow-up on things like I should.

Having said that, I do seem to recall that there was some kind of internal logic about my decision to scrap The Rocco Chronicles. I remember watching one of those infotainment shows…maybe Inside Edition…when they did a feature about an adrenaline junkie and his pug. The guy took the dog skydiving & surfing, among other things. I looked at Rocco and said “Sorry dude…Daddy’s just not that exciting.” And that was eight years ago. I’m even more boring now. I felt bad for Rocco; here was this other dog jumping out of airplanes & hanging ten, meanwhile my boy was doomed to a life of watching TV & living with me.

The other reason I didn’t go forward with The Rocco Chronicles (and this boggles my mind at the moment) is that I decided I just wanted to be in the moment & enjoy Rocco, not constantly be mining his life for content. At the time I didn’t think there was much about our life worthy of writing about anyway. Looking back I now realize how wrong I was. Don’t misunderstand…I’m not wrong about how uninteresting my particular lifestyle is, and to be honest I’m okay with that. However, despite never having gone on any extreme adventures Rocco is one of the most fascinating creatures I’ve ever known, and I probably could have written dozens of chapters about him.

I didn’t write those chapters though, and at this moment I deeply regret that misguided decision.

A few days ago I lost Rocco. He’s gone.

In October 2009, when Rocco was a little over a year old, we watched alleged “comedy” Marley & Me starring Owen Wilson & Jennifer Aniston. I question its credentials as a comedy for one key reason, and anyone who has seen the movie knows what I’m talking about. As I held Rocco while watching that movie I wept. I hadn’t cried like that since my mother had passed nine years earlier. Little did I know that someday I’d be living the exact circumstances played out in the film. Or perhaps down deep inside I did know and was upset because the realization was something I’d not pondered until that moment. At any rate, to paraphrase Forrest Gump, Rocco had got the cancer and died on a Tuesday.

I am fortunate enough…given the situation…that I have a job in which I work weekends and am off during the week. I’ve been a mess the past few days. Not that Rocco was all that noisy or rambunctious, but The Bachelor Palace is way too quiet & lonely without him. I realize that my deep sense of loss may seem silly to some. It’s just a dog, right?? All I can say is that anyone who holds that opinion has never had a pet. I feel so lost right now.

I had always assumed that after Rocco I’d almost certainly want another dog. On one level that is still true. While Rocco can never be replaced I would very much like to have another little one to take care of, talk to, & love on. Rocco gave me a purpose, a reason to get out of bed in the morning. When I was in the hospital for several weeks this past summer he was my motivation to get well & come home. There were times when I was out & about running errands and I just wanted to get home to Rocco. Now?? I don’t even want to be here. It’s no longer a home, just a roof over my head. Having said that, my circumstances have changed a bit over the years. I have to give a huge thank you to my sister, who took care of Rocco back in 2015 when I was in the hospital for a couple of months, and my neighbors Sammie & Bernie, who looked after him when I was gone in the summer. However, can I count on being that fortunate in the future?? Taking care of Rocco on a daily basis…feeding him, cleaning up after him, giving him lovins’…was never a problem, but I do have limitations and I’m not sure about bringing another dog into my life. I have decided to not actively seek another pet, but if God decides that it’d be a good idea I am open to considering it.

I anticipate an imminent return to regular programming. I have to get up and go to work in the morning. I have plans Saturday night. Life moves forward. I hope the tears stop soon. I want to be able to smile when thinking about Rocco, not be profoundly sad. Perhaps I will feel the urge to write more about him in the future. I’m not quite sure about anything right now.

A semi-regular attempt to address some of life’s minutiae that might otherwise be overlooked…..

There’s a candy store in my local mall that I rarely grace with my presence…not because I don’t like candy, but because I love it. I’m a chocoholic that needs to drop a hundred pounds, so the candy store is the last place I should be. Having said that, I recently did decide to stop in and make a purchase. I chose three types of chocolates and asked the young lady behind the counter for 1/3 pound of each. My plan was to make that pound of chocolate yumminess last awhile (which didn’t happen, but I digress). She had mentioned that she was studying for a college final (summer school I assume), which is something you should keep in mind. She scooped some of my first choice onto the scale, which soon read “0.75”, and was quite proud that she had nailed it on the nose. I was trying to be polite so I didn’t say anything, which was an error in judgment. I proceeded to watch her measure out .75 of a pound for my next two choices as well. I still didn’t say anything…more out of dumbfounded bewilderment than politeness. So I ended up with a bill that was atleast $10 more than what I was anticipating and 2.25 pounds of chocolates instead of one pound, all because a freaking college student didn’t know the difference between 1/3 & 3/4. I read a story awhile back about A&W’s failure to successfully market  a third pound burger because consumers “wondered why they should pay the same amount for a third of a pound of meat as we do for a quarter-pound of meat at McDonald’s” . They thought a third of a pound was less than a quarter of a pound because three is less than four. Seriously. Now I seem to recall that math wasn’t my favorite subject in school, and I struggled with it more than social studies & English, but good golly…how in the world does anyone make it all the way to college without understanding such basic & practical stuff??

Webster defines truth as “the body of real things, events, and facts” and “the state of being the case”. Truth isn’t generally an ambiguous gray area. It is what it is, which is why I am perplexed by one of the 21^st century’s newest catchphrases: “my truth”. I’m not going to get into the largely sociopolitical ways in which the phrasing is utilized because The Manoverse is an intelligent bunch and y’all know what’s up. Suffice to say that what people who use such terminology really mean is perspective. They want people to understand & support their worldview and think they can convince the masses of that perspective’s veracity by calling it truth, but it doesn’t hold up to critical examination. Truth is what is true, and you can’t change it just to promote whatever twisted ideology pop culture, the media, or whoever else is endorsing.

There are few feelings worse than being overlooked, excluded, ignored, & left out. Lots of people may be cordial & pleasant in brief interactions, but they certainly don’t go out of their way to make you part of their life, and oddly enough it’s even more noticeable in the modern era of social media & other technologies. In many ways the world has gotten smaller, but that seems to magnify perceived slights & snubs. Many assume that a person should get the message, catch the drift, or pick up on the hint when they text, call, or message someone and those messages are ignored, but wouldn’t it be much more effective & benevolent to just respond, even if it’s to tell them off?? Atleast that would remove all ambiguity. My maternal grandmother believed in ripping off a band-aid quickly and ending the pain as fast as possible, so why string a person along?? Look, I’m not trying to be hypocritical. I could do a better job communicating too. But more & more I am inclined to wait for incoming calls & messages. It’s exhausting & aggravating when people only make an effort in obvious desperation then go back to ignoring you when their needs have been met or when they find a more enticing option. 

Greetings Manoverse…it’s been awhile.

Your Humble Potentate of Profundity had another little health calamity…osteomyelitis in my foot, which is an odd trick for someone who doesn’t even walk. A few weeks in one hospital, a few more weeks in another hospital, a couple of weeks of self-infused IV antibiotics at home…but now I’m on the mend and back to work. The truth is that I hadn’t been writing even a couple of months before being hospitalized, which should have been an indicator that something was off. But sometimes…especially when it comes to our own health…we just can’t see the forest for the trees. At any rate, the clouds have parted and I feel the urge to jump back into the fray here at The Manofesto, and I think I’ve found the perfect avenue to do just that.

Y’all know I like checking things out over on Pinterest, and I ran into something that piqued my curiosity called The Unofficial Goldman Sachs Guide to Being a Man. Now I’m 40-something years old, and while I believe that we should always be willing to grow & evolve the fact is that I am pretty much who I’m going to be. If folks can appreciate my positive qualities and deal with my shortcomings then there’s an opportunity for us to be friends, but chances are I’m not going to change all that much at this stage of my life. So am I manly enough according to Goldman Sachs?? Have I learned the right lessons from other men in my life, or have I totally been screwing things up for decades?? The charm…in my opinion…of having a forum like this is to pontificate on such matters, and so we shall. We’re going to go down thru this unofficial guide point by point and see just what being a man is all about.

Stop talking about where you went to college.

I get it I suppose. College was great. I had lots of fun & made a lot of good memories. I’m not so sure those years created much of a solid foundation for me vocationally, but that’s mostly my fault. I think the point though is a man should ideally achieve & grow & create an interesting enough life in the decades that follow that a thirty/forty/fifty-something is not hearkening back to long past collegiate glory. I don’t necessarily disagree, but neither do I totally agree with the sentiment. Everyone’s collegiate (or even high school) experience is different. Some buckle down, do what they gotta do, get the degree, & never look back. They might not ever go back for any kind of reunion and don’t set foot on campus for the remainder of their lives. Others may adopt where they attend college as a second hometown, make lifelong friends, & return every chance they get. I have friends from college who go to as many football games as possible, and a couple even have jobs at the university. Basically they never left. Where they attended college became a part of them and has been integrated into their lives, and that’s okay. Even those who don’t still live in their college town or go back all that often might still support their alma mater, watch games on TV, & maybe even wear a t-shirt or hat occasionally. I fall into that category and I don’t believe it somehow makes me less of a man.

Always carry cash. Keep some in your front pocket.

My Dad is a big believer in this one. He gets annoyed when he sees someone writing a check for $10 at a store because he thinks that everyone should have what he calls “AP Money” (i.e. ass pocket money, which I suppose goes against the grain of keeping it in your front pocket). However, I think technology plays a part nowadays. I don’t carry much cash & pay for a lot of things with a debit card. I could actually use my phone, but I’m not that fancy yet. So, while I would hate to stand behind some slowpoke paying for his $8 meal at Burger King by writing a check, I take no issue with that person whipping out a card or their phone instead of a few dead Presidents.

Rebel from business casual. Burn your khakis and wear a suit or jeans.

What you wear depends entirely upon the situation. It is a delicate balance between having some class and being comfortable. Personally I am a fan of business casual. I am not going to wear a suit if it isn’t required or atleast proper. I once had a job where I had to wear a tie every weekday, but I felt much more productive wearing jeans on the weekends. Conversely, I hate seeing people wear jeans to funerals or weddings or anywhere that business casual should be as informal as it gets. I don’t think rebellion is all that manly. There’s nothing wrong with simply being appropriate.

It’s ok to trade the possibility of your 80s and 90s for more guaranteed fun in your 20s and 30s.

Okay…live in the moment…I get it. I think most people do that anyway, but even if a person does try to plan ahead a bit and live conservatively with the future in mind I’d be surprised at anyone who thinks that far in advance. Most folks understand that nothing in life is certain.

The best public restrooms are in hotels: The St. Regis in New York, Claridge’s in London, The Fullerton in Singapore, to name a few.

Ummm…okay. I’ll keep that in mind if I’m ever in London, NY City, or Singapore and really really really need to…go.

Never stay out after midnight three nights in a row… unless something really good comes up on the third night.

Some comedian…I think it may have been Chris Rock…did a really funny routine about going to the ATM at 3am and how one isn’t going there at that hour for any good reason. The parameters change as we get older & our circumstances vary. I am very rarely out past midnight these days, and a three night stretch would definitely be odd. It would have to be something really interesting the first two nights, let alone the third night.  

You will regret your tattoos.

I 100% agree. I almost got a tattoo on my ankle in college, which atleast would have been inconspicuous, but I am glad I didn’t do it. It’s a free country. I have friends with tattoos. To each their own…I just don’t see the attraction.

Never date an ex of your friend.

Yeah, I can see it. Depending on the depth of that friendship dating your buddy’s ex seems like it would be rather awkward.

Join Twitter…become your own curator of information.

Absolutely. To its credit Twitter can be somewhat informative depending on who you follow and if you can stay out of the muck that is so easy to get sucked into. I’m a big retweeter. I love to retweet quotes or profound thoughts by others that I find particularly meaningful.

If riding the bus doesn’t incentivize you to improve your station in life, nothing will.

I’ve had to ride the bus a couple of times recently, and it is quite humbling. I have friends who ride the bus with some regularity and I don’t judge. They’re good people…just not as affluent as they’d prefer. To be honest I’m just more well off enough than them to be able to afford a vehicle, and even that gets dicey when repairs need done. Let’s not be pejorative, but instead be thankful that public transportation is available to get folks to & from work, medical appointments, the grocery store, etc.

Time is too short to do your own laundry.

lol I get a good chuckle because I do in fact have someone who helps me do light housework, including laundry. But that’s only because of my disability. Otherwise I’d be happy to do laundry. I’d much rather do laundry than wash dishes!! Anyway, I assume most adults do their own laundry, and I see nothing wrong with that.

When the bartender asks, you should already know what you want to drink.

I don’t spend much time in bars these days, but yeah…know what you want. Don’t waste the bartender’s time or the time of those waiting behind you.

If you perspire, wear a damn undershirt.

Ehhhh. I’ve never been an undershirt guy myself. I suppose if your one of those people who sweats profusely wearing an undershirt is preferable to a big wet spot in your armpit, but I don’t think it’s necessary for everyone.

You don’t have to like baseball, but you should understand the concept of what a pitcher’s ERA means. Approach life similarly.

Hmmm…there’s a lot to unpack here. Earned Run Average represents the number of earned runs a pitcher allows per nine innings. An earned run is any run that scores without the aid of an error or a passed ball. To calculate ERA you multiply 9 x earned runs then divide by innings pitched. If a pitcher exits a game with runners on base, any earned runs scored by those runners will count against him. Your outcomes in life depend on your “ERA”. Performance determines longevity, and you might get few chances to you earn that longevity. Be responsible when it comes to time & effort. To stay in the game you have to perform well. ERA takes what we’ve done and gives us an average of what we might do if given multiple opportunities in the future. Make the most of every opportunity and surround yourself with a good team of people.

When people don’t invite you to a party, you really shouldn’t go. And sometimes even when you are invited, you shouldn’t go.

I concur. Not much into partying anymore, but I can’t imagine going to one to which I wasn’t invited. I’m just not that…aggressive. My father told me many years ago that there’s nothing wrong with staying home. I happen to live in a small town where not much goes on & I have a rather solitary life anyway, so I’m perfectly happy to stay home, read a book, watch a movie, love on my dog Rocco, or listen to some tunes.

People are tired of you being the funny, drunk guy.

I was the funny drunk guy for a few years back in college. That’s okay when you’re 19 years old, but when you’re…older…it’s just kind of sad. I can’t even remember the last time I had an adult beverage. I am delighted with a glass of iced tea or a bottle of water.

When in doubt, always kiss the girl.

I tend not to wallow in regret, and as previously mentioned I’m not particularly forceful, but I do look back and wish I would have rolled the dice a bit more with the ladies. Not in an offensive #MeToo kind of way or anything like that, but more like a self-confident “What do I have to lose??” manner.

Tip more than you should.

I agree wholeheartedly. I will…hold back…if the service is bad & the server is rude, but if a person is generally polite and does a good job then I believe they deserve a nice tip. Service industry jobs are tough and don’t pay all that much, so if I can help someone who’s done well in helping me then why not??

You probably use your cell phone too often and at the wrong moments.

This is likely true for most of us. Smartphones are a tremendous convenience and it’s great to have the world at your fingertips, but when you’re with family & friends we should step away from the technology and enjoy the people.

Buy expensive sunglasses. Superficial? Yes, but so are the women judging you. And it tells these women you appreciate nice things and are responsible enough not to lose them.

My father always taught us the value of good quality items. You don’t necessarily have to have the best, most expensive, top of the line stuff, but look for something well made from a reputable company. Whenever I get new glasses I also purchase prescription sunglasses, so by definition they are expensive and pretty nice. I don’t buy the $10 sunglasses near the grocery store checkout. As far as impressing women…ehhh. I understand the point. It’s probably an accurate statement and makes a lot of sense. However, if a woman is going to judge a man by the sunglasses he wears then I’m not completely sure she’s someone I need to know.

If you want a nice umbrella, bring a crappy one to church.

I have no idea what that even means.

Do 50 push-ups, sit-ups, & dips before you shower each morning.

Ha!! If I did fifty of even one of those the next shower I’d take would be in a hospital.

Eat brunch with friends at least every other weekend. Leave Rusty & Junior at home.

Well I don’t have any kids to worry about, but the sentiment makes sense. It’s important to stay in contact with friends, and I imagine those with children need some occasional adult interaction. Sadly I have not done a good job of keeping up with friends (to be fair they haven’t kept in touch with me either), and I especially miss a couple with whom I used to have really interesting conversations.

Be a regular at more than one bar.

I’m not a regular at any bar and have no desire to change that. However, back in college we had a special hangout that everyone gathered at several nights per week. When I was a kid one of my favorite television shows was Cheers, so I kind of have a romanticized idea of a friendly little neighborhood speakeasy “where everybody knows your name”. What exactly is wrong with being a regular at one place if the atmosphere is to one’s liking, the refreshment is appetizing, & the company is good?? And if you’re a “regular” at more than one bar what exactly are you doing with your life??

Act like you’ve been there before. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the end zone at the Super Bowl or on a private plane.

Exactly. I agree wholeheartedly. ‘Tis good advice in multiple walks of life.

A glass of wine or two with lunch will not ruin your day.

The writer of this guide really enjoys imbibing adult beverages.

It’s better if old men cut your hair. Ask for Sammy at the Mandarin Oriental Barbershop in Hong Kong. He can share his experiences of the Japanese occupation, or just give you a copy of Playboy.

Okay. I’m probably never going to be in Hong Kong for a haircut, but I do still like the idea of an old-fashioned neighborhood barber shop ran by geezers who’ve been plying their trade for decades. They do tell the best stories.

Learn how to fly-fish.

I don’t recall ever having gone fly-fishing per se, but I have gone fishing and didn’t enjoy the experience all that much. If I’m going to have a lazy day I’d prefer to just chill with a good book. I love the idea of being on the water, but a relaxing voyage on a pontoon boat is more my speed.

No selfies. Aspire to experience photo-worthy moments in the company of a beautiful woman.

Well…yeah. My life would be amazing if I spent all my photo-worthy moments with a beautiful woman. Sign me up.

Own a handcrafted shotgun. It’s a beautiful thing.

I am a huge supporter of The Second Amendment and do appreciate the craftsmanship of a handmade shotgun. However, I don’t currently own a gun because…well, I’d prefer to be properly trained & licensed, and even then I could totally see myself being one of those unfortunate souls who mutilates myself while cleaning the gun. Also, I’m not an outdoorsman at all, so if I was to become properly trained & licensed it would be so that I could own a handgun for target shooting & protection.

There’s always another level. Just be content knowing that you are still better off than most who have ever lived.

Amen. Dad always says that one doesn’t have to look very far to find a person worse off that you are. About my own life I always say that I have a roof over my head, food to eat, a few people I can count on, & relatively good health, so I think I’m doing okay.

You can get away with a lot more if you’re the one buying the drinks.

Again with the drinking!! Look, I’m not a cheapskate, but neither am I wealthy. If I do happen to find myself in an establishment with adult beverages I’m fine with buying my own drinks, and I’m not going to be the guy putting a round for everyone else on my tab. Perhaps I might buy a drink or two for a lovely young lady to see where things go, but that’s about the extent of my generosity. If that means that I can’t get away with much (whatever that means) then so be it.

Ask for a salad instead of fries.

Absolutely 100%.

Don’t split a check.

I don’t know…I think it depends on the situation.

Pretty women who are unaccompanied want you to talk to them.

Oh how I wish that were true. It’s partially correct. The full statement should read pretty women who are unaccompanied want single men with fat wallets, six pack abs, & fancy sports cars to talk to them.

Cobblers will save your shoes. So will shoe trees.

I am in a wheelchair every day of my life. Shoes last me for years. I’ve never owned a shoe horn and when I think of cobbler it is on a plate topped with ice cream.

When a bartender buys you a round, tip double.

I’ve never had that occur, but if it ever happens I’ll be sure to leave a really nice tip.

The cliché is that having money is about not wasting time. But in reality, money is about facilitating spontaneity.

Well, first of all, I’ve never had all that much money. Having said that, I could see where it could facilitate spontaneity. Hopping on a plane to some exotic locale or buying an expensive vehicle on a whim sure would be easier if money wasn’t an issue. Most folks I know save spare change for years or plan months in advance for any kind of major purchase.

Be spontaneous.

It’s a nice sentiment, but for various reasons related to my disability spontaneity hasn’t ever been easy for me to achieve. I need to plan ahead & know what I’m getting myself into.

Find a Times New Roman in the streets and a Wingdings in the sheets. She exists.

That’s a good one!! We’ve all heard variations of the idea (which is a perfectly legit goal by the way), but using a font related example is rather amusing. Kudos.

Piercings are liabilities in fights.

I got my ear pierced once back in the day when guys getting one ear pierced was the cool thing to do, and I spent days trying to hide it from my Dad. It was a phase I grew out of and have never had the desire to do again. I have seen people with all kinds of piercings on their face and on various parts of their body, and I do believe it’d hurt pretty bad to have that stuff tugged on or pulled out during a fight. Ouch.

Do not use an electric razor.

I don’t see anything wrong with an electric razor or a straight razor. To each their own. Do whatever works for you.

Desserts are for women. Order one and pretend you don’t mind that she’s eating yours.

No no no no no no no. No!! Poppycock. Not only do I love dessert, but if a woman wants dessert she needs to order her own. Keep your damn hands off my cheesecake!!

Buy a tuxedo before you are 30. Stay that size.

Okay, now we are becoming delusional. Look, if you run in the kind of social circles that necessitate you wearing a tux on a regular basis then by all means go out & buy one. It’s probably a smart investment. However, other than a few fraternity formals and being the best man in a wedding a decade ago I’ve not had to wear a tuxedo. And I don’t know very many people who remain the same size they were in their 20s forever. It’s just not realistic.

One girlfriend at a time is probably enough.

Probably?? How about definitely. Look, I love women. I wish women loved me as much as I love them. But let’s be honest…some of them are…high maintenance in a variety of ways. Not only is it not morally proper to have more than one gal at a time, but it is also impractical.

#StopItWithTheHastags

#AlrightyThen

Your ties should be rolled and placed in a sectioned tie drawer.

Sorry, I’m just not that fancy. When I was wearing ties on a regular basis for work I had them hanging in my closet, and in the decade+ that I haven’t had to wear a tie hardly at all they’ve been stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere in the closet.

Throw parties. 
But have someone else clean up the next day.

I’d much rather attend a party somewhere else and return to my quiet little abode with no mess to deal with.

You may only request one song from the DJ.

So now we’ve segued from bars to nightclubs, which definitely aren’t my scene. The only place that I’ve ever had occasion to request a song from a DJ is at a wedding reception. However, I do understand the idea…don’t be the person going up every five minutes requesting a different song. That would be annoying.

Measure yourself only against your previous self.

Truth!! In the age of social media we have more access to other peoples’ lives than ever before, but sometimes the view can be somewhat misleading. Most folks are smart enough not to post the more mundane aspects of their lives for public consumption, so what we see are the highlights. Comparing ourselves to others is never a good idea. Conversely, looking at yourself now as opposed to ten years ago can be instructive and possibly even inspiring.

Take more pictures. With a camera.

Yes!! My life isn’t all that exciting, but I usually take my camera to occasions that are even remotely interesting. I’m sure others couldn’t possibly care less about my photographs, but I enjoy looking at them and remembering fun times. I wish I’d been more of a picture taker many years ago, but I’ve really only gotten into it in the past decade. My paternal grandmother always had her ‘Kodak” with her and took a ton of pictures thru the years. Nowadays people tend to use their phones to take pics, and that’s fine. Technology is wonderful. But in the same way that I still prefer an actual book to e-readers I think my camera takes better photos than my phone.

Place-dropping is worse than-name dropping.

My life isn’t adventurous enough to engage in either one.

When you admire the work of artists or writers, tell them. And spend money to acquire their work.

I’ve not had the opportunity to meet any famous writers, but if I had the chance to meet one of my favorites I’d be happy to tell them how much I enjoy their work. As far as acquiring their works…sure, go for it. That’s kind of the idea behind something being a favorite, right?? You spend money on what you enjoy.

Your clothes do not match. They go together.

Semantics. I’m not that much of a sophist.

Yes, of course you have to buy her dinner.

Well…yeah. Sorry ladies…I’m just old-fashioned like that.

Staying angry is a waste of energy.

Of course it is. But sometimes it’s pretty easy to do. I try to avoid it though.

Revenge can be a good way of getting over anger.

I see both sides. Revenge is a dish best served cold, but on the other hand “vengeance is Mine…I will repay, saith the Lord”. (Romans 12:19)

If she expects the person you are 20% of the time, 100% of the time, then she doesn’t want you.

Nailed it. Look, most people are complex to some degree. We put our best foot forward at work & church, regress back to being a goofball when we’re hanging out with friends, & can be a lazy hump when we’re home alone watching TV. It’s not that we’re being fake in some situations and genuine in others, it’s that most of us adjust our attitude & personality accordingly in any given situation. I’m no relationship expert, but I’m smart enough to know that trying to be the best version of yourself to impress a woman can become exhausting. She’s got to accept me for me, and that includes all variations of who I am.

Always bring a bottle of something to the party.

I’m not necessarily sure it has to be a bottle of anything, but I was always taught not to show up to a gathering empty handed.

Avoid that “last” whiskey. You’ve probably had enough.

No problem. I didn’t even have the first whiskey.

Don’t use the word “closure” or ever expect it in real life. There may still be a mortally wounded Russian mobster roaming the woods of south Jersey, but we’ll never know.

That’s probably true.

If you are wittier than you are handsome, avoid loud clubs.

It really does make a lot of sense. I just so happen to be more witty than good looking, and I realize that the chances of a woman taking one glance at me and instantly feeling some sort of physical yearning is remote at best. The only chance I have is to charm her with my warmth & sense of humor, which isn’t going to happen in an obnoxious dance club. I’ve always heard that the grocery store is the best place to meet women, but thus far it hasn’t worked for me.

Drink outdoors. And during the day. And sometimes by yourself.

Or how bout this…read a book, adopt a puppy, dig into God’s Word, get a hobby. I’m beginning to think the author of this guide is a functioning alcoholic. Life isn’t a television commercial. Most people who drink booze every day aren’t suave, sophisticated, or sexy…they’re sad & pathetic.

Date women outside your social set. You’ll be surprised.

I’d be down with that. I’m willing to outkick my coverage for a woman who is willing to lower her expectations.

If it’s got velvet ropes and lines, walk away unless you know someone.

I agree. That’s not my scene anyway.

You cannot have a love affair with whiskey because whiskey will never love you back.

I’m really worried about this writer. Perhaps someone should contact Alcoholics Anonymous or The Betty Ford Clinic.

Feigning unpretentiousness is worse than being pretentious. Cut it out with the vintage Polo and that ’83 Wagoneer in Nantucket.

I hate pretentious people, but most folks that I know who are modest & humble are genuinely so and not feigning anything.

The New Yorker is not high-brow. Neither is The Economist.

Magazines are still a thing?? Perhaps the writer should sober up and leave the bar more often.

If you believe in evolution, you should know something about how it works.

The rule can be applied to many things, not just evolution. If you say you believe in anything you probably should be somewhat knowledgeable about the subject.

No-one cares if you are offended, so stop it.

Can I get an amen up in here?!?!?!?? I am offended by people who are constantly offended, and nowadays it doesn’t take much to offend everyone. As a nation we may have become more “woke” than we were a few decades ago, but that doesn’t mean we’re better off for it. Sometimes I ponder what The Rat Pack would think about 21^st Century America. Oh sure, you could question their moral compass, and that’s a conversation I’d be willing to have. But those guys were cool, and I think they’d be befuddled by how sensitive we’ve become, how everything is bad for us, & how other peoples’ shortcomings have become everyone else’s business. My maternal grandmother used to say “tend to your own rat killin’” and she was right. Lighten up everybody. None of us are getting out of here alive, so relax & enjoy the ride.

Never take an ex back. She tried to do better and is settling with you.

That makes a lot of sense. I’m sure there may be exceptions, but in general it’s probably a good rule of thumb.

Eating out alone can be magnificent. Find a place where you can sit at the bar.

I eat out alone a lot, and don’t mind a bit. I don’t care about sitting at the bar though.

Read more. It allows you to borrow someone else’s brain, and will make you more interesting at a dinner party — provided that you don’t initiate conversation with, “So, who are you reading…”

An old friend once observed that I “live in a library”, meaning that my humble abode is lined with bookshelves. But the truth is that I don’t read as much as I used to, and I need to get back into it. I feel like my attention span has decreased as I’ve gotten older, and I am too often distracted by other things.

Ignore the boos. They usually come from the cheap seats.

I’m rarely in a position to be cheered or booed, but I understand the sentiment. No matter who you are, what you do, or where you go not everyone is going to be a fan. I used to care way too much about people liking me, but as I’ve aged that has lessened quite a bit. I don’t go out of my way to be unlikeable or anything, but neither do I go out of my way to impress anyone.

Hookers aren’t cool, but remember, the free ones are a lot more expensive.

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Don’t ever say, “it is what it is.”

I say “it is what it is” all the time because it’s true. What’s wrong with that??

Start a wine collection for your kids when they are born. Add a few cases every year without telling them. It’ll make a phenomenal gift in 20 years.

Sweet fancy Moses!! Look, if you’re really into being a wine connoisseur that’s cool. It’s a fine hobby. But your offspring may not roll like that. If my parents had given me a wine collection when I was 20-something years old I would have sold it and used the money for something I actually wanted. How about this…don’t project. Don’t assume others are going to be into something just because you are. And for the love of God put down the glass, get out of the bar, & call an Uber!!

Don’t gamble if losing $100 is going to piss you off.

Absolutely. 100%. Never gamble more than you can afford to lose. I used to occasionally play poker for pocket change, which is about my speed. When the Triple Crown horse races roll around each spring I might bet $10-20 on a trifecta. It’s been years, but once upon a time I would sometimes put $5-10 on a football parlay. I can’t relate to high rollers that spend thousands of dollars gambling. It’s just not that important to me.

Remember, “rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.”  

Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something. – Plato