Personal

If you’re reading this then you already know. I logged into Facebook. I shared this post. And here you are. I love you. Brad.

Yup, so, I logged into Facebook for the first time in nearly four years. I was debating about writing why I logged in but felt it was best since you probably followed the link from Facebook which means we are friends in some capacity.

Why I logged off and why I did not log back in are not the same. I’ll be honest here. I needed a break from Facebook. Didn’t think it would be a 4 year sort of break but thats what happened.

And its mostly because at month four of the break the events which happened below did a number on me.

I became a dad to Max on July 9th, 2014.

I became a dad to Vada on July 29th, 2015.

I lost my Dad on March 31st, 2016.

Those 20 months were the most emotional ones in my entire life.

Any one of those will change you forever. With all three happening so close together it really affected me.

Its like two waves I could ride stacked up on a much larger wave that I could not and all three broke on me at the same time.

It doesn’t matter that the two small waves were “happy” waves. The much larger “sad” wave consumed them and it was just one big fucking wave.

I am not a surfer but hopefully that analogy makes sense.

And what followed was sadness.

Its remarkable how that sadness would not let me out of its grasp for the better part of three years. Its like I was fishing with my favorite lure, got it snagged, and no matter what I tried I could not get it back.

Everything suffered. I am sure I’ve lost friends because I haven’t called or checked Facebook in that time. I could not get motivated to work. I sold or got rid of anything that brought me stress. I hated how I felt and for the first time in my life I was being negative. This negativity consumed me and the last thing I wanted to do was dump this on Facebook or even on the phone.

Thats not me. And I know that.

A lot of this started when Max was 5 months old. Andrea and I felt like we were getting this whole parenting thing under control. He was sleeping through the night. We had a schedule. Ok, we got this.

Around that fifth month my parents stopped by on their way back from a Dr. visit Dad had at U of M. Prior to that visit he had been coughing quite a bit but was not sick. His Dr. could not figure it out and sent him to a specialist at U of M.

Something felt different when Mom and Dad walked into the house. After Dad settled into our recliner and me on the couch I asked him how the visit went. “Ok”, he replied.

Mom heard his reply from the kitchen table and walked over to us and said “No, it was not ok.”

I immediately make eye contact with Dad and he can’t bring himself to say anymore.

“You’re father has been diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. The Dr. said most people live 3-5 years after diagnosis.”

Dad and I locked eyes for thirty seconds without a word being said. I was in shock as much as he had been since he left the hospital. I go over to him on the recliner and give him a hug that lasts for minutes.

Dad said very little the rest of their visit and I can understand why. He had just been told how his life was going to end.

After Mom and Dad left it started to sink in what I just heard. I spent the rest of the night reading about his disease and it was not good. It was a incurable lung disease with no treatments. People have a better chance beating cancer than IPF. I was shocked to find out that more people die every year from IPF than breast cancer.

Over the next week I researched everything I could about IPF. The realities of this disease not only taking Dads life but making the next 3-5 years miserable for him were sinking in.

And at the end of that week Andrea told me were were pregnant.

The amount of things that were going through my mind was overwhelming. We have a five month old. I had just spent most of the day trying to find anything that might help Dad. And then to think we would be going through the whole pregnancy and those first three months with a new baby all again.

It was too much all at the same time.

It was at this time that the thought of logging back into Facebook and keeping up with friends in general started to fade.

I tried to spend as much time as I could with Mom and Dad after hearing about the diagnosis.

Sadly, Dad’s six to nine months of coughing before his Dr. visit were not included in those 3-5 years. He came down with pneumonia and swine flu at the same time 18 months after being diagnosed.

You cannot get sick when you have pulmonary fibrosis. He fought for 10 days in the ICU but he just could not get over the pneumonia and swine flu.

The entire experience of being with Mom in the hospital watching the Drs. and Nurses come and go. The two times Mom called Sean and I in the middle of the night telling us to get up there. It was a lot.

Dad knew he was sick. As did we. We were thinking he was leaving the hospital and this was going to be his first step towards being on an oxygen tank. A month after he passed I remember talking to Mom saying how it never sunk in with me the body language and apprehension in the Drs. and Nurses voices. They knew how sick he truly was.

The 21 gun salute at the funeral. The hundreds of people that knew Dad who showed up at the viewing. Mine and Sean’s friends from high school who we have not seen in a decade showing up. The guys on our softball team buying flowers. All of it made a lifelong impression on me.

I was asked by a number of my parents friends for a copy of the speech I gave at the luncheon. With all of them on Facebook I logged in and posted it. It was the only time I logged into Facebook these last four years. As soon as I posted the link I closed the browser. I didn’t even log back in to see what people said. It was all too much.

The next six months were tough. Whatever energy was left over from taking care of the kids was consumed by thinking about Dad. For the first time in my life I was having panic attacks and bouts of anxiety.

It took me over a year from Dad’s passing to be “ok” most of the time. Not just those few times I’d get together with friends.

I remember a phone call Mom and I had last year on a nice fall day. We were talking about the rental properties and we got onto a different topic. And for the first time in a long time we laughed.

Our phone calls the previous 18 months had mostly been done while holding back tears. It was tough to talk about anything as Mom, Dad, Sean, and I did everything together.

It was after the phone call that I felt like I finally got my favorite fishing lure back. It was a little beat up from getting tangled but it was good to have it back. Each day afterwards became a little bit easier.

I don’t want this to seem like it was all doom and gloom. I also don’t want this to seem like I’m blaming this on my kids. They did nothing wrong. They were babies. One baby, let alone two babies, require massive amounts of attention and energy.

Oh, and we’re still friends. You can bet your mother fucking ass that we are.

Just because your boy left the party to go on a beer run, got the beer, got some pizza, ate the pizza, then had to get diapers, and then more diapers, and more beer, and whiskey, and more beer, and more whiskey, and then made it back to the party before all y’all were ready to pass out doesn’t mean I wasn’t still partying. Just got a little distracted making my way back.

There were some good moments. Softball games, golf tournaments, ski trips, and others. I could be myself for those once in awhile fun things. It was the day to day stuff that got me.

So much changed so fast that it took me a lot longer to grasp everything. But I guess thats life. It has its own timetable.

There is a lot more I can talk about but it was these three events that kept me off Facebook, that kept me from texting, and that kept me from calling friends. It kind of turned into an un-intended experiment.

People deal with these things differently. I guess for me it was shutting down. I did not like it. Its just how it happened.

If you tried getting a hold of me on Facebook these past couple of years and wondered why I did not reply. This is why. And I apologize for that. I have quite a bit of catching up to do.

Sometime around March in 2018 it will have been four years since I logged into Facebook. I don’t know the exact day or if it was February or even April. All I remember is it was about three months prior to my son being born in July 2014.

I was talking to a friend of mine a couple of months ago who was amazed I still had not logged in and said I should write about it.

After thinking about it I decided to. And as I started jotting things down the list kept growing. It didn’t occur to me how much Facebook was apart of my life prior to logging off.

Now here’s the thing. I wanted to get all of this out there so I can come back to it later and re-evaluate if the things I have written below are of value or if my logging off was silly.

Because for the past five months or so I have been telling myself to log into Facebook and yet I have not. How messed up is that? Open a new tab. Type in Facebook. Go. And I still have the Facebook app on my iPhone staring at me with a red 35 on it but yet I have not touched it in 4 years.

Every time I want to log in I talk myself out of it. In my mind I’m trying to get psyched up as if its a big game that I’m about to play in. And I just can’t do it. Maybe I know its a game that cannot be won and spending any effort on it is a waste of time. Maybe I’m just being silly.

So Here We Go

One day four years ago I noticed myself starting to get anxious every time I was on Facebook. I logged in over 20 times one day and did nothing. I was not posting, commenting, liking, or sharing. Nothing. Then I realized I had been doing this for over a month. It got me thinking.

• What on Earth am I looking for?
• Why am I doing this?
• Why does Facebook make me feel sad?
• Why am I self-editing everything I want to post or comment?
• Why am I comparing myself to my friends?
• Why am I comparing myself to acquaintances?
• Why am I checking Facebook on my phone and computer all the damn time?
• Why does it feel like I need to use Facebook to prove my existence as a human being?

Its like this wave of thoughts kept building over the years with how I used Facebook along with what role it played in my life. It had become quite powerful. The thought of me becoming a dad in four months was the crest of the wave followed by the break. Seven years of heavily using Facebook came crashing down.

I realized I probably had some sort of addiction to Facebook and it needed to be addressed. Going cold turkey and not logging in was the only way. Swimming sideways out of the rip tide of Facebook was what I needed to do to get back to a clear mind. Not charge head on back to it.

I figured nobody would miss the posts I was not posting and nobody would miss the comments I was not leaving. In the month prior to not logging in I had not sent or received a message nor was I tagged in a post. Its as if I wasn’t using my account at all even though I was on it all the time.

I was not quiting Facebook. Merely stepping aside until I deemed fit to return.

I did not forget about Facebook. Its like homecoming weekend at my alma mater (Central Michigan). I made it to every one of them for seven years following graduation including flying back from Colorado one year. We would start making plans a month out every year and it was always a blast.

And then life got in the way. I haven’t been to a CMU Homecoming weekend in seven years.

This is what happened with me and Facebook. I know its there but life got in the way again. What used to be something I would keep up to date with was now buried in the back of my brain.

But what happened when I did not log in was interesting. You don’t understand how engrained Facebook and social media are in our lives until you step away from it. I call them the:

Six Phases Of Facebook Separation

1. Detox

Try to not log into Facebook for a month and pay attention to how many times you reach for your phone. I bet you can’t sit anywhere without logging in.

It took me two weeks to detox. My guess is because I had not really been using it the months prior so it wasn’t like I went completely cold turkey.

2. Did You See What So And So Posted On Facebook?

“No. I did not. I haven’t logged in in awhile. What did they post?”

This happened a lot during my first six months. I’m guessing 30% of conversations started with this question which is quite impressive.

3. Wait, What Happened?

Is what I said a number of times when a conversation was going on with friends. And since I did not see the original post and comments it made me the odd person out. Nobody wanted to tell the story again to bring me up to speed.

4. You’re So Annoying

Is what was said to me a number of times since I had not logged in. I was annoying people because I did not see everybody’s posts. Whats up with that? How is that my fault?

5. You Still Haven’t Logged In?

Somewhere around year two people forget not seeing you on Facebook and then they ask, get ready for it, “Did you see what so and so posted on Facebook?” And I would tell them I still haven’t logged in. Amazed they were at first and then, get ready for it, “You’re So Annoying.”

6. You’re Dead To Me

Around year two and a half you no longer exist except in folklore. Basically, you’re Bigfoot.

When people see you its a “sighting.” When you see them its “exciting.” You see the difference?

Party Like Its 2008

It felt a lot like 2008 in that there was just enough technology available outside of a phone call to stay in touch without always feeling like you had to know what was going on. Or even care to know what was going on with your friends day to day lives.

You (at least me) were never on your cell phone outside of calling and I think texting occasionally. Internet was making its way to cell phones with the BlackBerry and iPhone but they pretty much sucked. So you did your browsing on a laptop or desktop.

In some ways it was nice.

And thats not all. “The Six Phases Of Facebook Separation” were reminders on how much Facebook was apart of my day to day life and the impact it made on society as a whole. Which lead into…

FOMO

I think we can all agree the “Fear Of Missing Out” is real. Facebook reminds you of that everyday. I remember one day five years ago seeing three people I knew posting from a ski trip, a tropical vacation, and a European vacation while I sat in my home office in Huntington Woods, MI.

I wanted to be on those trips.

But as time passed from me not logging onto Facebook, I never felt I was missing out on anything. It was refreshing.

For the first time in years I was able to be in the moment. To not only be where I was at physically but to be there mentally too.

Mindfulness

With no reason to check my phone 20 times a day it kept the distractions at bay.

In Public – I cannot tell you how many times I would be the only one out in public with my head not down in my phone checking Facebook or some other social media site. This meant my head was always up. So when somebody looked up from their phone I’d be the one they’d make eye contact with.

And they would give me the “why are you staring at me creepy guy” look. Even from dudes. No. You’re the creepy one. I’m the one being the human being.

With Kids – I cannot tell you how many times I caught my son (now 3.5) and daughter (now 2.5) from falling or about to fall off something at the park and at home. What if I would have been on my phone scrolling through the Facebook app? Who knows how many concussions I saved them from.

What pisses me off the most is when something that could have been stopped happens when I’m on my phone. I’m not perfect here either. I’ve definitely checked my email and fantasy football teams at the park and at home but those are one and done sort of things. Nothing to scroll.

As an adult, I know better. And thats the worst part. It causes an overreaction and anger which in turn I’m basically admitting to myself that its my fault.

Keeping Up With The Joneses

Would I get a little jealous seeing pictures of somebody’s new house, new car, and just about every other toy I saw posted on Facebook? Occasionally.

I probably bought or wanted to buy something because of the daily barrage of pictures I’d see of things posted on Facebook. And I’ve never been like that. But Facebook was different.

After not seeing any of that for four years I can say I’m back to no longer comparing myself to the Joneses. I never want anything anymore. I’m back baby!

Image

I don’t feel I really got into trying to portray an image of myself on Facebook. Maybe a little bit. But every time I did so it felt forced. It wasn’t real. Think about how powerful that is. Facebook was trying to get me to portray an image of myself that I was not.

And to think how much effort was put into trying to portray myself in a particular way to my friends and family. If they are my friends and family I shouldn’t have to do that.

Time

You would not believe how much time I freed up by not logging into Facebook. It is insane how much time I was spending on Facebook doing nothing on Facebook. All of that time was sucked up by my kids of course but I now had it to give.

There is no need to link to any sort of study showing how much time we spend every day on Facebook because it comes back to one simple question.

Do you enjoy Facebook?

If yes, then it doesn’t matter how much time you spend on Facebook. Its something you like to do. For me, I was not enjoying Facebook. I was wasting vast amounts of time.

Attention Span

There are so many things that can be going through your mind in a minutes worth of Facebook posts. Anyone of which can suck you in for hours distracting you from whats in front of you.

I noticed being a lot more attentive to the things which were right in front of me. Again, the kids took up a lot of my attention but I could now offer my full and undivided attention.

Emotions

Isn’t it amazing how Facebook can mess with your emotions? You could be having a great day and then see a story about animal cruelty, human cruelty, wars, a political post, or a rant. Hello bad day!

I did not like how Facebook could tap into my emotions. The unpredictability of it all is so powerful.

What I noticed from not being logged on is I have better control of my emotions. All I can get emotional about is whats going on in my house and the things I seek out.

Politics

I will admit to posting a lot about Politics during my Ron Paul phase from 2008 to 2012. I thought what I was posting was helpful and people need to know what this guy was running on. Bring home the troops. Close the IRS. And others. Who wouldn’t vote for this guy?

Turns out that nobody voted for Ron Paul.

I thought I was providing great information for friends and family. Turns out I was wasting my time. No one cared. And they still don’t care.

I missed the entire 2016 Presidential Election cycle on Facebook. That might have been a good thing.

When I heard people were losing jobs and students had to get counseling because of what was being posted on Facebook I thought how lucky I was missing all of it. I could come up with zero reasons to publicly support Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton. Zero.

Oh, I heard friends were getting into intense debates on Facebook. A few times I was read what was said and all I kept thinking was man am I glad I missed that.

A close friend asked me what I thought about all of the Political stuff going on Facebook four months before the election. After reminding him I had not logged in and him telling me that’s so annoying he went on to tell me he spent an hour going back and forth commenting on a Facebook post and had to stop because it was getting late. The next morning while brushing his teeth all he could think about was if the other person replied.

I did not miss any of that stuff. Think about how much time and effort was wasted.

I concluded after the 2012 Presidential election that if I could not impress upon my friends who are mostly college educated working professionals that they should vote for a guy who wants to stop wars and reduce their income taxes to 0% that I am wasting my mother fucking time.

What I Missed About Facebook?

1. Groups – My fraternity, softball teams, and Beachbody Coaches had private groups which I’ve missed out on. Most of it was bantering but was on topic.
2. Invites – I’m sure I was invited to a few things on Facebook that I never knew happened.

I almost put “Networking” up there but I feel that falls into the Groups function.

Housecleaning Items

Facebook is the only social media site I’ve used in a heavy way. I have a Twitter account I haven’t posted to in five years that I occasionally log into to read articles from a few websites I used to follow. I haven’t followed a new site or person in over five years. And I have a YouTube account that I occasionally post a video to but I don’t consider YouTube social media. It takes too much time to post something there. Basically, I’ve been social media free for 4 years.

It was never my intention to stay logged off this long. Throw in what I said in the beginning with the thoughts of becoming a dad and something had to give. Facebook was what had to go.

Right around when my son was five months old and I felt like logging back in due to getting a grasp of this parenting thing I heard some life changing news.

My dad told me he had Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis. A incurable lung disease that was going to take his life in 3-5 years. He made it 18 months.

A week later we found out we were pregnant again.

My life was so full of emotions now that the thought of logging back into Facebook only happened when somebody asked me. I had no space for Facebook and for a whole lot of other things.

Its only now, almost two years after my dad passed and my youngest being 2.5 and oldest being 3.5 that I feel I have space in my life for the things I used to do before. Like keeping in touch with friends and possibly seeing whats happening on Facebook. If those events didn’t happen so close together I probably would have logged in by now.

The good news is I somehow managed to exist without logging into Facebook. 🙂 I should write a survival guide or something.

It should be noted I did log in once and that was only to put a link to the speech I gave at my dads funeral luncheon after many people asked me for a copy of it. I typed it up on my site, logged in, posted, and logged off. I didn’t even log back in to see what people had to say. It was all too much at the time.

Concerns

There is really only one thing that concerns me about not logging into Facebook. And thats if I burnt bridges. If there are important messages waiting there for me from somebody who doesn’t have my phone number. Something like that.

I remember seeing people post “I’m taking a break from Facebook” before which I thought was silly. Maybe its something I should have done.

Facebook has been emailing me with the subject line “a lot has happened since you logged in” for awhile now. Up until six months ago did I actually open the emails. Typically I’d delete them. This is the most recent one.

There’s a number of things in that picture that tell me I have to log onto Facebook at some point. There are real friends in there. Not just acquaintances.

And while I’ve somewhat enjoyed being disconnected during these emotional past couple of years I do miss some of it.

My guess is so much has changed on Facebook that its going to look so much different than what I remember of it. If anything, maybe I’ll be better equipped to let the aspects of Facebook I like back into my life.

Because if not, we know I have the power to put Facebook in timeout for another 4 years.

An Un-intended Experiment

Thats the best way I can summarize this. I was never quitting. I wasn’t even taking a break.

Its more along the lines of I was at a party and left to go on a beer run. During my walk to the party store I stopped for a slice of pizza. While eating the pizza I got into a conversation with some stranger that lasted for an hour. On my way back to the party I noticed an old lady with a flat tire so I stopped and put the spare on for her which took an hour.

After fixing the flat I realized I drank my beers while eating that slice of pizza and while changing the flat tire. So I headed back to the store to pick up more. On my way there was another party going on where somebody said “Hey, you, – we need one more to play bags” as they noticed me walking by. I said no but was offered beers to play and winnings from a tournament I did not have to buy into. Sure as shit me and my teammate win ten games in a row never giving up the board.

Being so intuned with what I was doing I forgot about the party and have to head back. But I’m out of beer again. I probably don’t need anymore but I have to bring a few back. So I head back to the store.

On my way back to the party with new beers in hand I start thinking about what people are going to say when I open the door. Three things come to mind. They’re either going to say:

“You’ve been gone for six fucking hours. Where the hell have you been?”

or

(Insert crickets)

or

“Brrrraaaaaaddddddd!!!!!!!”.

Last week Andrea and I watched the final episode of Breaking Bad. And I wanted more.

For the previous two months we binge watched it on Netflix. It was one of those things where she started watching it and I stepped in around the 3rd episode (I watched the first and second episodes later). Because, you see, we watch a lot of TV. Something I am not too proud of. It just works with our schedule.

After giving our two and three year old a bath around 7:15, pajamas, reading them a book, tucking them in bed, giving them a kiss good night, and eventually closing their bedroom doors it’s around 8:45. Somewhere in between too late to work on a project and I’m a bit too tired to work on it anyways. Especially here in Michigan in the winter.

So we watch a show. I am fighting this. Energy levels are starting to get back to pre-baby levels which are egging me on to get back into those projects. I am at a point where I don’t want to get sucked into another show.

I had never watched an episode of Breaking Bad from the time it aired (2008 – 2013). Not one. I don’t know how. We had AMC. I saw it on the guide as I flipped through the channels. Just never stopped to watch. And I had heard how good it was. So yes, its 2018, we are late to the Breaking Bad party.

But damn. From the second I sat down I was hooked. And it just kept getting better and better and better. Every season built on the previous one. And they did it for 5 seasons straight. I can’t remember watching any other show were there wasn’t at least one or two dull seasons. Not with Breaking Bad.

And every time I saw the image below I was like Fuck You Vince Gilligan.

There would be this long pause after something insanely insane happened which gave you half a second to collect your thoughts and think nooooooo……not Vince Gilligan. Fuck. Fucking Vince. You’re gonna Fucking do that to me Vince. You Fucking Fuck.

I am not fucking around. Andrea and I would look at each other and wait for the other one to say “you want to power through and watch another one? Its only 10:15.”

A Brief Apology

The language above. I do apologize. That’s not me talking. The show made me break bad. Got my emotions all riled up. Well played Vince…you son of a bitch you. You Mother F….

It Felt Real

It didn’t need computer graphics. It didn’t need to be dumbed down. It didn’t need to be overdone. And the story felt believable. Even though it was unbelievable.

It hit home with me in a number of ways. None of which I realized until after the final episode.

Walts 50. I’m 37. Not that far behind.

Walts a father to a son and a daughter. As am I.

Walt was given a couple of years to live after being diagnosed with inoperable lung cancer even though he never smoked. My Dad was given a couple of years to live after being diagnosed with Idiopathic Pulmonary Fibrosis even though he had not smoked since before I was born. IPF is an incurable and inoperable (lung transplants may work) lung disease.

The cough Walter had is the same cough my Dad had as the disease weakened his lungs before it took his life eighteen months after diagnosis.

And knowing why Walter did everything he did so he could take care of his family when he passed. Which is exactly what my Dad did during his life. Which got me thinking about me and my family. And what I’m doing or not doing.

And most importantly. Walt wore whitey tighties. My Dad wore whitey tighties. I should probably start wearing them again.

In The End

There were so many great scenes. So many great lines.

“You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot, and you think that of me? No! I am the one who knocks!”

“You want me to beg? You’re the smartest guy I ever met, and you’re too stupid to see — he made up his mind 10 minutes ago.”

“I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And I was really — I was alive.”

And the ending. There were two endings. Hank’s scene (3rd to last episode) and the actual last scene. Just wow. How the hell did you come up with that?

Others have spoken about the life lessons Breaking Bad has taught them so I won’t go into that here. And how what Walt really wanted in life was to feel alive.

With TV getting so much better these past 5 years as shows can be made for Netflix, HBO, Showtime, Amazon, and others without the rules of regular TV its amazing to think Breaking Bad was on AMC from 2008 to 2013.

That’s before shows like House Of Cards, Boardwalk Empire, the first season (not the second) of True Detective, Orange is The New Black, Game of Thrones, and Homeland to name a few.

I know nothing about writing scripts, character development, choosing music, and so on. But man, it all worked. Like I said above. I have watched a lot of TV over the years. Something I am not too proud of. And with that…

Breaking Bad won TV.

That’s the best way I can describe it. Congrats to everyone who worked on the show. I feel like if I never watch another TV show again my viewing of TV would be complete. It’s the only show where the thought of watching it from start to finish all over again has crossed my mind.

Well played Vince Gilligan. You Son Of A Mother Fu….. BIIIIIITTCCCHHH!!!

During the final episode of Breaking Bad there was a scene that took place between Walt and his wife Skylar. Walt had a feeling it might be the last time he would talk to her as he knew what he was going to do that night.

In that scene he starts to tell Skylar the reasons why he did everything he did. Throughout the show we hear Walt tell her he started cooking meth to leave money behind for his family when the cancer eventually takes him.

This is a story she has heard too many times before and does not want to hear it again. She stops him and tells him she no longer wants to hear “its about the family” one more time.

In which Walt replies “I did it for me. I liked it. I was good at it. And…I was…really…I was alive.”

Basically, Walt is admitting that the two years he was cooking meth as Heisenberg were the only two years of his 52 years that he felt alive.

There were so many great scenes in Breaking Bad but that one stuck out to me more than others. In the end, Walt was sick and tired of being mister nice guy. Doing all the right things. Doing what everyone tells you to do. Playing the part. Letting others take whats rightfully yours. And more.

What started out as a way to take care of his family when he passed morphed into finding what he always wanted. To feel alive.

Isn’t that important? To feel alive? Walt knows he might die later that evening and if he doesn’t the cancer is back and it will take him soon. Nothing could be more clear at that exact moment. He is able to admit at the end what he really wanted in life.

It took Walt 51 years to find out that feeling alive was more important than family, money, and other things.

I kind of relate this to one of my favorite Jim Rohn quotes. “Its not, I’ll take care of you for me. Its I’ll take care of ME for You.”

You can tell how pissed Walt is when he discusses what happened with the Gray Matters Company he founded and took a buy out from. He knows he could have been some form of Heisenberg had he stayed instead of taking a buy out and teaching Chemistry at the local high school.

Now I Feel Alive

I have this running joke with my buddy Dave that when one of us fall when snowboarding we ask the other how alive they’re feeling at that moment. Both of us have had some gnarly falls over the years.

But that feeling of your body sensing something is wrong as you tumble down the hill or come up way too short on a jump slamming the knuckle because you were going to slow (me – not Dave) makes you feel alive. Yes – it hurts. And the only thing to do is immediately get up and do it again. Don’t think. Just do.

This is why I continue to go on our annual ski trip. Its one thing that makes me feel alive. That feeling of standing at the top of a run knowing that the slightest slip of the board could result in an edge catching tumbling me head over heels at 28 mph. Or that doesn’t happen and it’s another ride where all I’m doing is thinking about the ride. Nothing else matters at that moment. I’m living life.

It’s also why at the age of 37 I continue to keep on playing sports like softball and golf. Sure, neither of those are like cooking meth and being Heisenberg. Or even tumbling down a ski run head over heels. But there is something about stepping on the field or course and competing that still gets me going.

And what if we made all our decisions based around what made us feel alive versus “whats good for us” or a “smart move” or “the right choice” or “what makes the most money”? What if we lived our lives like this. What if our career decisions were based around what made us feel alive? Not money. Not status. Not consequences.

Football players come to mind. With all of the scientific data coming out showing how its a near certainty they will have brain damage and mangled bodies when their playing days are over. You have to wonder why they keep playing. My best guess is it makes them feel alive. Its the game they love.

For years I watched Deadliest Catch. You cannot tell me being a deckhand is a great job. You smell like fish all the time and if you’re lucky you sleep 2 hours a day for each three week crab season. But every time you step on the deck you don’t know what the Bering Sea is going to throw at you. Every sense in your body is on high alert. Same thing goes for the Captain in the wheel house.

It’s easy to say NFL players get paid millions of dollars and those deckhands get paid pretty well too. At the same time they could always go sell insurance and make a lot of money too. But they don’t.

When I take a look back at the jobs I’ve had in my life I think the more labor intense ones were the ones I enjoyed most. Washing cars at dealerships. And driving a box truck for Cintas where I delivered mats. What a workout both of those jobs were.

My time working as a management trainee for Enterprise Rent-A-Car and as a mortgage banker for Quicken Loans were a different sort of job. They were oddly more stressful than the labor intensive ones. Sales and customer service jobs are different beasts than labor jobs.

I’ve been self-employed for the last ten years working from home mostly doing internet marketing. It’s very similar to the office jobs I had. But what I learned from those office jobs was how vitally important it is to get out and do something that made me feel alive.

To make the ski trip a priority. To keep playing sports. To keep working out. And to try to mold my life around those things versus work that takes me further away from them. It’s extremely tough. Especially now with kids.

At the same time I know I have wasted a lot of time in my life doing things that don’t make me feel alive. Watching TV is a big one. Playing around on the internet. And not making the most of my time. I know I’ve done a fair amount of things so far but from time to time I think I could be doing more. Even if it’s just doing the things I enjoy doing more often.

Things are just so good in 2018 as it has never been easier in all of human existence to be comfortable. Feeling alive on a day to day or week to week basis has never been harder. Remember when you had to hunt for food to survive? Me neither.

I still don’t know how Walt found time to be Heisenberg as a parent to a teenager and a baby. I always thought it was a little too quiet in the White house with a baby at home.

The probability of me feeling Walter White levels of alive is low. The man took it to a whole other level. All while mostly driving around in a bomb ass Pontiac Aztek.

If anything, my takeaway from that scene is we should never feel we have to apologize to the people we love for doing the things that make us feel alive.

As long as its not cooking meth. Because that’s bad.

**I had never watched an episode of Breaking Bad til two months ago when Andrea and I binged watch all 5 seasons on Netflix. Its 2018 and the show ran from 2008 to 2013. I’m late to the party, I know. But man was it awesome.**

Last week at the annual Detroit Lions Thanksgiving Game we met up with some family friends at the Christmas Tree for halftime. When the tree is not up we still meet them there. My parents have had season tickets since 1993 and they have had them for at least eight years.

They have a couple of other friends they bring to the halftime meet and greet too. My parents friends are in their late forties or early fifties. Their friends are my age (late 30s). Well, their friends brought a younger cousin of his. I believe I remember him saying he was 25.

Him and I started talking and during the conversation he stopped me and asked how old I was. “37”, I says. I think I gave him an answer to a question that made him think that only an old person would say that (Two kids, 401k, The “Barry Years”, Minivan, Mortgage, Softball, etc.).

“You don’t look that old” , says him. “37 isn’t old” , says me.

This is the second time this year where this has happened to me.

I have been in a fantasy football league with some of my fraternity brothers for nine years. Thing about these guys is half of them were freshman or sophomores when I was graduating. Me being 23 and them being 18 or 19.

Fast forward nine years and I’m 37 and most of them are 32. And as you can guess, they made friends with the younger guys when they were graduating. Traditionally we meet up at my house or another guys house in Royal Oak to draft and then go out to Royal Oak.

This year, we had to draft online due to scheduling conflicts but half of us met up in Royal Oak. Its becoming the only time every year we see each other. Well, they brought some guys from the fraternity whom I’ve never met.

While at the bar I started talking to one and during the conversation I say something like “Two Kids, 401k, “The Barry Years”, Minivan, Mortgage, Softball,” and he stops the conversation.

“Wait, how old are you?”, says him. “37” , says me.

“You don’t look that old” , says him. “37 isn’t old” , says me.

“How old are you? , says me. “23” , says him.

“Well, you definitely made me feel old.” , says me.

Turns out he was still in college and in my old fraternity. He was a freshman when one of the guys was graduating and they kept in touch. The cycle continues.

How often do 23 and 25 year olds hang out with a 37 year old? I never did when I was those ages. When you are in your twenties everybody you know is the same age. Thirty year olds do not exist to you. And anybody in their 40s, 50s, or older is a boss, a professor, your parents, an aunt or uncle, or your grand parents.

All of the softball teams I played on in my twenties had guys the same age albeit one guy who was definitely in his forties who pitched for us.

And even the people I worked with when I was in my twenties. I cannot remember anyone who was in their thirties. The only people I remember were in their forties or fifties. Their lives were so much different than mine so you knew.

What is 37 supposed to look like to somebody who is 25 when thirty year olds do not exist to you? Fat? Bald? Grey hair? Glasses? Really fat?

37 year olds don’t hang out where 25 year olds do. And most don’t hang out anywhere. From what I know as being a 37 year old my age group is either working or raising kids. Since we have little to nothing in common with younger twenty somethings we don’t have a reason to talk.

I know what those two guys were thinking though. You have a full head of hair. You’re not (that) fat. You were talking about still playing sports before I asked you how old you were. He would have thought I was at most 32 since the guys I was hanging out with were the same age. And for the younger cousin. His older cousin was bald and a bit out of shape. That’s what he knows.

When I think about my friends who are my age. Almost all of them still have their hair with touches of gray. Those that don’t have hair started losing it when they were 23. Those that have gone grey have done so because of stress. The only real difference is if we are in shape or not as we all have grown into our “Man Bodies”.

When I think about the best shape I have ever been in it was when I was 31 and just completed Insanity Asylum Vol 1. I was as cut as I’ve ever been. At 37 I feel I am as strong as I’ve ever been.

I’m hitting the golf ball as far as I’ve ever hit it. My last couple weeks of softball I hit a few over the left fielders head (which I never do).The strength is there. I can’t run for shit but never really could. And I seem to recover from workouts just the same as I continue to workout four times a week.

What has changed the last couple of years is I have been paying more attention to what I put into my body. I cannot say for sure but I feel that taking Shakeology every morning for the last seven years has at least positively affected my long term health.

And how I switched to a mostly Paleo way of eating 16 months ago in an effort to address inflammation. So far it feels like its making a big difference.

Do these things make me look younger than 37? Maybe. Could it be genes? Possibly. What about playing sports and doing things younger people do? Doesn’t hurt. How about trying to live a low stress lifestyle? Less wear and tear for sure.

I am not sure about any of this but what I do know is 37 is not old. There are still dudes playing professional sports at 40 and doing well. If I gave some optimism to those two guys that they can still be doing things they like to do now at 37 than good.

Hopefully both of them said “You’re 37?” and not “You are 37”. Because “You are 37” would make me sad.

** 18 years ago at my grandfathers funeral my dad stood up and tried to say some nice words about his dad. Unfortunately very little if anything came out. It was the first time in my life where I saw my dad so over come by something out of his control. The only other time I saw this from him happened last week. Made a promise 18 years ago that when it was my dads turn to have some nice words said about him that I would try. I wrote the speech below at 4:30 am the night of my dads passing and read it at my dad’s funeral luncheon.**

Simply Excellent

If you’ve ever called my parents house and dad picked up the phone and you asked him how he was doing his voice would perk up and he would tell you he was doing simply excellent. After listening to this reply for 30 years I cannot think of a phrase that better describes my dad than simply excellent.

He was simply excellent at everything he did. Husband, father, big brother, friend, boss, employee, and whatever else he did.

People looked up to him. Not just because he was 6 foot 3 but because dad never let anyone down. I can’t remember one time in my life – not once – not ever – where he let me, Sean, mom, his brothers and sisters, or friends down. It wasn’t if dad could be there to help it was what time was he supposed to show up. He has 20+ years of perfect attendance coffee mugs from Ford at the house to back this up.

To be fair he wasn’t simply excellent at everything he did. Golf. Nope. He’s still the only person I know who has a hole in one but did not see it go in. Then there was his Lions who are not excellent at anything. Wouldn’t be fair to get on him about that one since many of us suffer with that choice to.

Suffer. It’s something we all will go through eventually but none of us have a say when its our time to suffer. I feel dad did everything in his power to keep his suffering to himself to protect us from it. That’s how dad was. Whatever he could do to protect us – he would. To say now I wish you would have let us know more about your suffering wouldn’t be right since you and mom made so many sacrifices to give Sean and I the life we have. The life you had.

With the suffering comes loses. First to go was your hearing. I’m still not sold on this one. How many years was it before you got your hearing aids? Oh – you have the volume turned down on them. I swear you enjoyed mom yelling at you.

Even after dad remembered to “put his ears in” he really didn’t need to respond to you with words anyways. His presence alone did the speaking. I’ve had entire conversations with him the last couple of years where all he did was wink, raise his brow, scratch his cheek, or smile. I didn’t know what he was really doing was saving his lungs for important words like the last ones we had – I love you.

The endings are never good and all we can do is reflect. A part of me is happy when you told me 18 months ago about your disease as it let me appreciate every moment we’ve had in that time period. It also gave me time to appreciate your life and what you meant to me, Sean, mom, your brothers and sisters, and friends.

It kind of gave me a chance to look up to you as if I was a kid again. The same way Max is starting to look at me. You were just – my dad – again.

You’ve been pretty much a perfect human being in my eyes. Of course you would reply that nothing is perfect. You’re right. If only we could be like you. Simply Excellent.