A blue moon ended the double-oh decade and I ended it with a few blue days. Back in 2000, at the start of the double-ohs, I participated in a program that has truly changed my life. I swallowed the red pill and became aware that I am the master of my fate. I create my reality. And, for the last ten years, reality has been an amazing ride – I took my first cruise (and seven more), I went whitewater rafting down the Colorado, I traveled to Europe for the first time, I met thousands of amazing people, had sex with hundreds of amazing men, started two new businesses, closed two new businesses, bought and sold investment real estate, lost lots of weight, gained lots of weight, made lots of money, spent lots of money, lost lots of money, learned, loved and lived very well.
Well, lately, I’ve forgotten that I created all of that. From nothing. I forgot that I don’t have to be at the impact of life. I forgot that I am not a victim of my circumstances. For the last year, I’ve been residing at a dip in the road. Money has been scarce, romance has been cruel, and food has been very (very) comforting but my clothes have not. I’ve been wallowing in woe is me, the world is mean, this isn’t it, it shouldn’t be this way. And it all feels really really real. I woke up this morning realizing that duh, I get to create again. A new year, a new decade. Who knows what opportunities life will present. Who knows what I’ll have to endure. Who knows? But, I get to create who I am going to be for all of it!
To that end, I’ve created three rules for the new year. They’re simple.
1. Choose. At any moment choose. Whether it’s the salad versus the burger (a real choice) or my bank balance (a tougher choice), choose.
2. Generate Satisfaction. One thing I know about me is that I will never be satisfied, it will never be enough. I must generated my own satisfaction. I must create being grateful. It’s not a natural state of being for me so I must be responsible for it if I want it.
3. It’s all good – it’s perfect just how it is. I say it all the time. It’s time to “be” it. What I’m doing right now is the most important thing in the world. There is no place else to be.
That’s it. The journey continues. I will enjoy the ride. Join me? I love you, and as always,
Peace.
Butch Leiber’s World Blog
I guess I like to think I’m conventional but in 2009/2010 America, what is convention? Conventional: conforming with accepted standards.
Conspire Coffee House
“Those people.” In that I heard my grandmother, sitting at the dining room table judging and criticizing the people she dealt with on a daily basis. Now, her “those people” and my “those people” are different people. And I’m sure to some, I’m one of “those people.” I am gay, and I was raised Jewish and I shave my head and I have a tattoo and I’m one hundred pounds overweight and I’m single and I have sex with random strangers and, well, I can probably find more things that make me one of “those people” to someone else.
Why is it so easy to judge and assess people when they don’t fit our mold of how people should be? We have our own conventions in life and think everyone should fit in that mold. I’ve been looking, searching lately for Mr. Right and the few men I’ve met lately who I really like just don’t fit the mold of what I expect for my boyfriend, or better, what my friends or parents would expect me to bring home. So I dump them, or move on hoping the next one will fit better.
I’ve begun to notice lately the constraints I put on myself by my own conventions, how I should be, how my life should be. The more I judge and criticize myself the more I notice I’m critical and judgmental of others. I check out what they’re doing or not doing and vote on whether it’s good or bad or even worse, could I, should I try that on? I like to think I’m an independent thinker. I like to think I’m unique and my own creation. But ultimately, I’m one giant paradox of convention and non-convention; a bundle of look at me and what are you looking at. I want so badly to fit it – everywhere, and so badly to be unique, always looking for approval, acceptance, love.
For this final two weeks of the year, I’m taking on acceptance, love and approval of all, including myself. No one is perfect, and we all are. Happy holidays!
Peace.
Butch Leiber’s World Blog
Just some of the wishes
I wasn’t too thrilled to celebrate this year – forty seven years old may be a minor accomplishment but not one I was keen to celebrate. So, I made no special plans, and in the past, the day could have passed with only my parents and brother and sister remembering my birthday. But there it is, on Facebook for all to see- “Wish Butch a Happy Birthday – Click here!” It’s simple and takes seconds. From time to time even I click to wish people a happy birthday. It’s a ten second feel good. But on this end, as my email began to fill with wishes I got a little teary… and grateful… and humbled.
I know amazing people all over the globe. Some I know well, some we’ve met, shared a moment and moved on. Some I know from my youth, from high school, from random cruises, Landmark, Landmark cruises, someone I met sitting next to me eating sushi in Tempe, former co-workers, spouses of former co-workers, former lovers, hook-ups and potential future lovers (or hook-ups) and other assorted extraordinary human beings. And many took the ten second feel good moment to think about me. But put all of those together and it made for a wonderful day in my world.
My birthday did begin in a surreal fashion. I worked until midnight so headed to the bar to usher in my new year. I picked up a friend on the way and met two others at the bar. One of them picked up someone else at the bar and the five of us sat around drinking. I realized of the five people I’d be spending my birthday with, I had know one of them for just under a year, one for just around two months and two for minutes. We were having fun chatting and drinking and then the strippers showed up. It must have been a slow night at the Cabaret down the street and they came around looking for potential customers. There were none to be found with us but that didn’t stop them from trying. When Dallan, yes Dallan, found out it was my birthday, he and Rocky ripped off their shirts (moment here to catch my breath – Dallas was amazing) and gave me a short lap dance. Thank god the bar was empty and I was very uncomfortable but it was a surreal moment… particularly when Rocky playfully bit me on the shoulder. My birthday was starting out beautifully – me at the center of attention of a bunch of handsome men – I hope that bodes well for the whole year!
We all (except for the strippers) ended up at Denny’s sharing my free GrandSlam Breakfast. You can order four items and there were five of us so I ordered my own Pancake Puppies (See my Nov 19th Posting) and Mike 1 had hash browns, Mike 2 had bacon, Daniel had pancakes and Bobby had the eggs. Everyone was happy. It had the making of a great birthday. There’s an x-rated ending to the story but we’ll pass on re-telling that here.
Rigel - Coming to a VH1 Reality Show near you!
We’re now Facebook friends. Perhaps I’ll send him good wishes on his birthday next year.
I want to start today’s posting off with a little tirade about bad customer service. Let’s not tolerate it. There are so many choices in today’s marketplace for our shopping dollars, why support stores, restaurants and services that don’t care about you. Border’s Books at the Biltmore – 3 cashiers on the line at lunch time three saturdays before Christmas. I had to wait fifteen minutes in line to buy a greeting card! Then, the scanner rang up the wrong price for card and the girl behind the counter was surly about having to change the price for me. “It’s only fifteen cents,” she said. But it was MY fifteen cents. Grrr…. Add to that the gray haired drivers trying to find parking and paying no attention to blocking travel lanes in an already crowded parking lot… and I’m going on a tirade! And, I won’t be shopping at Borders again any time soon.
Now, let’s talk turkey– or roast beef or even pastrami. The best in town is probably at Scott’s Generations deli but between the girl who kept trying to grab my plate off the table before I was finished with my meal (and no, I don’t think she was concerned about my diet, trying to save me from that large slab of meat) and the waitress who I had to continue to try to find to fill up my iced tea and the sneering jerk behind the counter who wouldn’t hang up the phone call with his girlfriend/ mistress/ daughter, while he checked me out, I won’t be heading back there anytime soon. I will need to find a new Jewish deli to satisfy my occasional salted meat craving.
Customer service seems to be a dying art. Some companies get it. I had dinner at Sushi Brokers in Scottsdale last night and the staff was awesome – from the bartenders to the bus boys. They always take good care of us there and that’s why when I have the cash for sushi, that’s my favorite place.
Being nice isn’t enough anymore. But don’t tolerate anything less. Stand up to bad customer service. Train the people who wait on you. Tell them if their service was bad. Don’t tip for bad service. Stand up for a civilized society! I once watched a girl at Subway throwing my sandwich together, not paying attention, clearly preoccupied with something else and making a mess of things. I asked her to stop and reminded her that I was going to eat what she was making and I wasn’t going to eat that. I called her manager over and requested someone else make my sandwich. He obliged and sent the girl on break. I don’t know what happened to her but I felt better. We live in a consumer driven society. Don’t take crap from the people dishing it out… even at Subway.
Ok,. I’m don’t ranting now. Thanks for reading.
Peace.
A short post today. I’m still hung over from the Thanksgiving Turkey massacre. A sharp knife is so important or you get shredded breast meat and a short black lady yelling at you (thanks D). I now know that I can cook thanksgiving dinner for thirty people. Next year I should invite that many people over. Six people barely made a dent in the mile high mound of stuffing. And what do you do with so much leftover ham? Mmmm… ham. Anyway, I survived Thursday only to have to clean and shop and prepare for the Saturday night party. Many fewer people this year but I learned a long time ago, appreciate your guests who do show. I think those who were there had a fun time. I did, and I only misbehaved a little. And I was so much more relaxed this year than ever. So much booze left over — we’ll have to have another party soon. Off to rehydrate. I have to work today.
Peace!
No, I have not idea what that means. I was driving home from work last night after midnight listening to my new favorite band, the Black Eyed Peas and enjoying the nonsense of that lyric – “Gotta Get Get, Boom Boom Boom.” Reminds me of my favorite lyric from the 80’s – “You spin me right round baby, right round, like a record baby, right round, round round.” The English language at it’s finest. I could really go off on a tangent about my favorite pop lyrics (”She had a pocket full of horses, trojans, some of them used”) but we’ll save that for another day. But last night I was rocking out to the music and enjoying the ride. I love rolling down the windows on the way home from work, blasting some fun music, no one on the road. It’s quite relaxing and I got to thinking about this being Thanksgiving week.
There are so many things in life that I really enjoy and I guess I’m not always as thankful for them as I could be. The last few years have been difficult financially. I think most of us have felt that tightening and I greatly appreciate that I’ve always had a place to live, always had the use of my car, money for gas, never had my cell phone or electricity disconnected (though I did come close) and I’ve never had to give up my HBO. I’m grateful for all of that and without the help of my incredibly generous parents that would not have been possible. Fuck, I’m about to be forty-seven years old and this is not how my life was supposed to be when I got here.
When that conversation takes over, I notice the shoulds and shouldn’ts and I lose track of how truly blessed I have been and I appreciate it and am greatly thankful for it. It’s amazing how the human mind works. It’s like my consciousness competes for which thoughts, stories, and conversations to latch onto. It would be very easy to get resentful and angry that as I near fifty, I’m renting again, working an hourly job, reporting to a supervisor who is seventeen years younger than I am. I’m single and I’m nearly a whole person overweight. But, I’m also clear that I don’t have to go down that tunnel. The world is full of people living with a chip on their shoulder resenting and regretting that this isn’t how it should be. The fact of the matter is, it is how it is.
I am responsible for how I got here. I left a good paying career as a computer programmer/technical trainer to go sell Real Estate. I left Real Estate to take seven cruises in three years and go start a sign company that ate up all of my savings. I didn’t take the actions to make the sign company successful. At the movies this past weekend, I saw a preview for Clint Eastwood’s next movie. Morgan Freeman plays Nelson Mandela and he quotes from a poem, Invictus by William Ernest Henley, “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” I was moved by the preview – can’t wait for the movie. But mostly, I was inspired by the quote. “I am the master of my fate. I am the Captain of my soul.” And I am thankful for the path I have taken, and the treasures I have amassed, and the experiences I have participated in and the people I have gotten to know and to love.
This thanksgiving week, take a look around. Life is extraordinary – just how it is, and just how it isn’t. Find a few things to appreciate – as for me I mostly appreciate the people who so take care of me and love me, who have taught me so much about life and appreciation and love. I’m thankful for the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle, for the internet, for music, for TiVo and pizza and fried foods (see below), for drive-through restaurants, for football, for sex, for vacations, cruise ships, waiters carrying glasses of vodka on the rocks – to me, for my past, for my future, for my health, for my teeth, for luxury, for simplicity, for courage and for fear, I could go on forever. I’m thankful for the Landmark Forum, boxer briefs, the view from my living room, multi-disk CD changers, Advair and free WiFi. But mostly, I am thankful for the people in my life, and I apologize if I don’t express it often or loud enough. It’s a continuous battle to stay present to appreciation and thankfulness when the dark side so often wants to take control. But we must stop at times and take stock, appreciate, love and laugh. Happy Thanksgiving! Love and appreciate the people in your life. I do you!
| I love food. Plain and simple, I love the sheer joy that comes with the crunch into a deep fried chicken breast, placed gently under a fresh piece of tomato and lettuce, coated in buffalo sauce between two pieces of warm bread. Who can resist the gentle cracks of the hard candy shells releasing the sweet taste of chocolate in a handful of the world’s most perfect snack food. Take a simple food like a potato, fry it in oil until lightly brown, toss in a pinch of salt and cover with tomato ketchup and enjoy. Aaaaaah… it’s no wonder I”m fat. I love eating and lately, I can’t seem to get enough food. I’m heavier than I’ve ever been and can’t seem to slow down my appetite. Lately, I find myself really enjoying foods from the four main food groups- pizza, fried anything, whatever you can buy from a drive-thru window and M&Ms. That’s really all anyone needs to survive. Let’s talk pizza. |
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 Pizza!! There are two kinds of pizza – great pizza and that was gross, but hell, it was pizza. For my dollar, any pizza that comes in a box from the freezer falls into the “gross but” category. For good pizza, it has to be thin, it has to be greasy and it has to be just over-cooked. Nothing will ever beat the experience of a slice of Mack’s Pizza from the Boardwalk in Atlantic City. Each piece is just too big to hold in one hand so you have to fold it to eat it properly. Upon folding, the oil from the sauce and the cheese begins to pool and as you lift the slice to your mouth it begins to gently run down your palm and onto your wrist. As you chew the perfect crust and cheese and sauce flavor combination, you’ve got to lower your arm and wipe or risk staining the cuff of your shirt. That’s the pizza standard. In Arizona, Red Devil Pizza comes close although the ratios of dough/sauce/cheese are a little off. Pinnacle Pizza in north Scottsdale also creates an excellent slice. Two exceptions to pizza excellence – Costco pizza, whether by the slice for $1.50!! or fresh frozen to make at home is an excellent doughy pizza that supersizes the ratios but really works as great pizza. And any pizza sliced into squares, like they do at Oregano’s immediately destroys the innate pizzaness of the food and deserves to be sent back for repair. |
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| I don’t think I have to say anything more about drive-thru food. Jack’s sirloin burger, McD’s Filet-o-Fish, Wendys’ Chicken, Taco Bell’s … anything really, all perfect. My body is definitely built by Jack, and that’s in the Box, not La Lane. Finally, the most perfect of foods. M&Ms. Chocolate goodness wrapped in a crispy candy shell. Melts in your mouth, not in your hands. I could live on M&Ms, particularly now that they come not only in male and female (with and without nuts), they come with peanut butter, almonds, dark chocolate and gourmet versions too. The M&M stores are merely shrines built to honor the gods of food. If you haven’t been to one, go, now. And bring me a home a bag of peanut-butter M&Ms. I couldn’t end today’s post about my favorite foods without mentioning a new favorite restaurant. Yes, those who know me know that the only place I consider home away from home is China Chili (at least until Daniel from Sabuddy’s reappears someplace). But lately, the Two Hippies Breakfast Joint has become a new favorite. Five dollars for a hearty breakfast in a fun environment. Try the stuffed french toast! It’ll rock your world. |
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Beanie Wells (Rob Schumacher/The Arizona Republic)
I love football. I love the Cardinals. I love the Eagles too but not against the Cardinals. I love to watch the game and I can sit for hours on a typical Sunday and watch three games right in a row. Even as far back as when I was in college. I’d sleep on Sunday until about 11:30, get up and walk over to The Campus Store (I think that’s was it was called) for a couple of hoagies, soda or beer and head home and plant myself on the couch for a day of football. Ah, time. Now I work on Sundays. Usually I work 3:30 PM until midnight so no late games and yesterday I did an overtime shift and voila, no football at all. It’s painful. I wait all summer for the games to begin then have to miss 6.25% of the season at work! Priorities, right?
Thank god for DVRs (man’s finest invention since air conditioning). I set the DVR to record the Cardinals game and turned off my radio and hoped to avoid hearing any score about the Cardinals game. I tried this twice already and both times was thwarted in my intention to stay in the dark. I watched the game I heard we won and promptly deleted the game I had heard we lost. Why stay up late to watch a losing effort. Last night I was successful and settled in with my remote, my diet Fresca and my DVR at 1:00 AM to watch the Cardinals game and I had no clue as to the outcome. Bliss.
The Cardinals have not performed so well at home this season and I guess in an effort to shake things up they decided to dress in their pajamas for the game. The all red uniforms were mildly offensive to the eye although not as ugly as some of the throwback uniforms some teams are wearing this season. The team obviously stayed in bed and quickly fell behind by two touchdowns. At 2:00 AM there’s really no one to complain to so I grabbed a snack and hoped things would improve. Then they did. Cardinals rookie Beanie Wells came alive and so did the Cardinals, turning it around and winning the game 31-20. It was fun. The Cardinals have a running game. The Cardinals have a new star. It was great watching this guy play like Larry Centers (the last great Cardinals running back) and score twice to seal the victory. Except, at 3:00 AM, there’s no one to cheer with. No one to call and scream into the phone with. Plus, most of the people who cared probably had seen this hours ago.
What’s my point? Well, once I again, I thank the great engineers at TiVo for the DVR so that we mere mortals can shift time and enjoy our hobbies at 3 AM or whenever we want to watch them. A three and a half hour football game can be condensed to less than two with a remote control. I’m also excited to watch Beanie continue his rise towards rookie of the year – it’s been a while since I was actually this excited about the Cardinals at this point in the season. They may just be who we thought they were. But, please lose the pajamas.
And lastly, it’s odd living after midnight. It’s just after noon right now and I’ve been awake for an hour. I feel like I’ve missed half of the day (I guess I actually have). I get home from work close to 1 AM but usually don’t go to sleep until 3 or 4. I wonder if anyone else is up at that hour? I need someone to watch pre-recorded football games with early on Monday mornings.
Go Cards!
After working for myself for the last seven or so years, I’m back to being an employee. There are some benefits to that like I get to go home at the end of my shift and the phone doesn’t ring with customers or problems after hours. I like that. Plus I get a paycheck every two weeks. Problem is I have to be at my desk at 3:30 PM and not a minute later and I can’t leave before midnight Sundays through Thursdays. And I have a boss who has a boss and so on and yuck. But I love the job – oh, I’m working technical support and sales at GoDaddy.com.
I have years of programming and computer experience and it’s making the job a lot of fun. It’s something I’m good at and I really do enjoy it. I do miss being my own boss and making more money but that will come. One thing that I’ve noticed talking to our customers on the phone is that so many don’t know what they’re doing on the intertubes or interweb (yes, some I’ve heard that from a customer) or internet. So, I’m making myself available under the name BravoDog IT to help people use the internet more effectively for their businesses. I’m charging very reasonable rates and using GoDaddy products exclusively.
If you or anyone you know needs interweb support, please don’t hesitate to call! I’m good at it, I’m knowledgable, plus I need the extra money.
Peace.
Oy! Ow!
So last night at 2:00 AM (I guess that actually counts as this morning) I was standing on the dance floor at Charlie’s as the lights came up and the bar was closing. I haven’t closed a bar in many many years. Just 20 minutes earlier I had found myself dancing to a Beyonce song and feeling very, very old.
I learned to dance to Cheap Trick, Boz Scaggs and ELO way back in the late seventies and early 80’s. I danced through high school and college and in my early adult years and my body has integrated several bad white boy, northeast Philadelphia, jewish dance moves. Here I am many years later trying to apply those moves to Black Eyed Peas and some new hip-hop band and the combination does not work. I had to laugh as I saw myself in the mirror of the bar, a largely overweight, nearing 50 white man with no rhythm trying to fit in with 20 and 30 somethings raised on dance moves that actually are kind of sexy.
Later when I was having an early 3:00 AM breakfast at gay Denny’s with my new 23 year old friend Bobby and sharing how old I felt he told me he had fun dancing with me and that I looked fine on the dance floor (and no, he wasn’t trying to “get some”). I think I called him a flat out liar but he told me I was a lot more fun to hang with than the other 20 something new friend we had made that night.
I guess age is a state of mind. I’m less than three weeks away from my 47th birthday and who knows how many more times I’ll shut down Charlie’s but I am having fun. I still require a least two or three beers to hit the dance floor but as long as I can shuffle my feet from side to side, bite my lower lip and wiggle my hips, I’m going to go have fun, look stupid and act not my age.
