Have you ever felt that you were right where you were supposed to be? Today I had that experience.

I left for lunch, and traffic was bad. As I was waiting for a long light, I noticed an older gentleman, maybe in his mid 70’s trying to get across 6 lanes of traffic in the crosswalk. He was walking with 2 canes, one the type that wraps around your upper arm, wearing a small backpack and appeared to be trying to get to the bus  on the opposite side of the street.

He would take several painful steps, then wave the short cane trying to get the bus drivers attention. Then he would take several more steps and repeat the process across all 6 lanes of traffic.

The bus driver must have saw him I thought, as the bus sat unmoving; that is until the gentleman made it to the curb. Then, without fanfare, it drove away.

I could see the gentleman give a heavy sigh, and started towards the bus bench.

The area of Phoenix I was in is close to the Veterans Hospital, and this young fella looked like he had spent some time in the military. I knew I needed to see if he could use a ride. Thinking I would have to go through this light and around the block, I suddenly noticed a break had appeared in traffic. I was sure we were bumper to bumper just a moment ago, never the less, here was an opening. Making a U-turn across 5 lanes of traffic I rolled down the window and asked if I could give him a ride.

Bob said yes.

It took several minutes for him to get up into the pickup I was driving, but it was worth every minute. He offered his hand, let me know his name was Bob, and he really appreciated the ride.

Bob is a Vietnam vet, and spent his service in the Air Force I found out. Currently he was headed to the VA for an appointment for his prostate cancer. He needed to get that taken care of so he can get his hip replaced.

Suddenly my trials and troubles of life, were of no consequence. I spoke little, but listened to him as we drove the 2 miles to the hospital. He asked to be dropped off at the corner and he could make it across the street to the hospital. Yes across those same 6 lanes that he crosses twice each trip.

Instead I asked him to give me the directions, and he guided me into the complex and I dropped him off at the front door. We shook hands, a firm handshake, and I wished him the best with both the challenges he was facing. He climbed down, and with a wave he went inside.

Lately I have been questioning my self worth. What do I really have to show?  How have I contributed positively to the world. What has my 49 years been spent on. The last couple of weeks have been rough, with those thoughts dragging further me down the rabbit hole if you will.

What is my purpose? Did I fulfill it? Is it still coming? Worse yet, did I miss it. When I came to the fork in the road, by choosing right, did I miss where I was supposed to go?

Today, for 10 minutes, was I where Bob needed me?

NO!

Today for 10 minutes, Bob was right where I needed him to be.

Bob, we didn’t exchange last names, and I am pretty sure this will never get to you. Thank you. Sincerely, thank you, for showing me that maybe its not the large great plans we have for ourselves that matter. Instead, maybe its just the little things.

I hope you were able to get good news today and they will get that hip replaced. I hope the pain you have been dealing with goes away, and you can get back to doing the things you enjoy.

I grabbed a quick lunch and as I was walking back to the truck, I had a beautiful butterfly fly alongside me for a bit. I felt peace then, not sure why, but it was magical none the less.

Are you an eye person? I am. When I speak to someone or they are talking to me, I maintain eye contact. “The eyes are windows to the soul” was once said, and I believe it.

Over that last couple of weeks I have met several new people. Some old, some young, and some around my age. What I noticed in each case was their eyes. How bright and vibrant they were, no matter the age or the color. Do eyes age? Not around the eyes, where we earn our wrinkles, but the iris. My grandfather was 100 the last time I saw him, but his eyes were bright and full of life, as any time I had seen them.

Some people hide their eyes. Either they advert them, looking away, or they  wall them up behind sunglasses. I am suspicious of these people, as I always feel they are hiding something. Something they must assume someone could figure out, just by their eyes.

Then there are those who return the look. Sharing their current mood of happiness, sadness, understanding or questioning. I can remember looking at someone and their eyes searching mine for………. for what? To see if I really could peer into their soul? To see if I knew the secret they had kept hidden? Were they looking into my soul, to see what I was feeling? What I was hiding? Was I being truthful, fearful, loving, angry or just a blank stare, where the lights are on, but no one is home. During these exchanges, once of us would eventually ask, “what?”

The implication is that something was  seen. Again, it may have been nothing, but their eyes  told  me, it was something.

There is more that is  exchanged when two  people, communicate, eyes to eye.  It is as if they increase the level of understanding, for good or bad.

Are you an eye person? Do you seek for understanding in another’s eyes? Or do you hide yours away? Protecting  more then just your vision, behind the dark lenses.

The wheel spins, the sun and moon perform their dance in the sky. To often we dont take the time to slow down and enjoy the time we have. To relish and rejoice with the people in our circle of life.

May life bring you closer to those in your circle.

He sat there, staring at the doorway, waiting.  It was how he spent most days and evenings since she left. Currently he had it open, staring across the fields, across the river, to where the sun was beginning to set. That damn door. He had closed it, locked, even nailed it shut at one time. But then, out of the blue, a knock, a note, a smile and he would think, its going to open again.

Only he ever opened the door.

Tonight would be different though. He had marked the date, purely by random, and circled it. If she didn’t come to the door, then he knew drastic changes would need to be made. The old clock chimed midnight, and still he looked, longing, hoping, against the odds, but there was no sign of her. Slowly, he raised himself out of the chair. He snorted, “wonder which of us creaks more chair, you or me?’

The chair couldn’t respond, but it knew it was the man that creaked.

He walked to the table next to the door where he had left his tools. As if turning a page, he went into work mode, banishing her from his thoughts. Picking up the screwdriver and  his well worn hammer, he punched out the 3 hinge pins. They came out easily, as he had kept them well oiled, waiting for her return. He was at peace when he worked.

Lifting the door off he set it outside and continued his work. Switching screwdrivers he began to remove the hinge plates on the door jam.  A few screeched as if holding on, he knew that feeling. Several came right out, ready to be done. Two were missing, they knew when it was time to go.

With that done he switched to a pry bar and removed the jam. He was in the zone. Humming a long forgotten tune, he worked away. His companions, a couple of old dogs, and cats, came in and took over the chair. The dogs went right to sleep, the cats, however, kept an eye on him. They had a side bet if he would go through with it this time. The Calico was up 5-0 over the grey cat. But Scruffy, the grey, had a feeling tonight he would finally get a win.

Time flew by as he nailed in some studs, and began the drywall. He continued through the night, lost in the work and the happiness of a job well done.  He wasn’t sure when he finished. Seemed like he has just sat down and  closed his eyes when he was awakened by the sun streaming through the eastern facing windows.

He confused at first, not recognizing where he was. This room was all white, a blank canvas for his life ahead. Gone was the door, he couldn’t even remember where it had been, along with all the pictures and mementos that always brought her back to him, at least in his mind.

A new day.  A new start. He realized he was finally just happy to be alive. It had been a long time since he had that feeling. He got up and told the animals it was time for breakfast. He had already turned away and missed Scruffy cuffing the calico, 5-1. It was a start.

Whenever one door closes, yank it off its hinges and fill in the wall. Sometimes it is the only way.

Ramblings of a mad man, July 2, 2018

She stands at the edge of the great ocean.

The water caressing her as she watches and waits.

The warmth of the sun engulfs her, as if giving her a last embrace, before it falls beneath the horizon.

Behind her the night approaches.

The shadows grow long and dark.

The sand that glitters in the sunlight, turns to stars sparkling in the night.

In this moment, everything in it, is her.

Light and Darkness.

Water and earth.

Time and timeless.

She breathes in the eternity of the moment.

She waits.

Let there be light, unless the bulbs are burned out. This happened to the light fixture in my girls room yesterday. Not a big deal usually, right? Unless this beautiful 2 piece frosted glass fixture has the 2 t9 circular fluorescent bulbs in it. Then you have 2 bulbs, each about $10 plus a ballast, another $20, that may or may not work.

Not wanting to spend 20-40 dollars on this fixture, especially since I have been converting to L.E.D bulbs everywhere else,  I needed a new idea. I ended up taking the fixture down and tossing the old fluorescent parts. Then I wired in 2 socket pigtails ($3.27 each from Home Depot Model # R60-00055-000) through the fixture and into the house power. Once there, it was easy to screw in 2 L.E.D. Bulbs. Using the 40 watt equivalent bulbs that costco was selling for 3 for $10.  

Replaced the covers and there you have it. More light, less energy, and maintenance friendly.

So if you have a favorite light fixture, that currently runs on fluorescent tubes, or rings, consider changing the sockets out for some L.E.D bulbs. Most use only 10% of the power of Fluorescent.

Todays tasks involved the beginning of project, Garage Cleaning and reorganizing. To be fair, this is always a task that I never look forward to, and put off till events lead to there being no choice but to begin. The “event” this time, is a week of rain that is coming my way.

I have 2 saws that have been out under tarps that I wanted to get into the garage. The process to make that happen included the following, (not necessarily in this order):

Move Jolene out of the garage and onto the street. (She likes the looks she gets there, but I get paranoid everytime a car slows down to look at her).

Move cart with big red’s old motor and transmission out of the garage and to back patio. (Needs to be gone through, but that is another project) Make room on Patio for cart, then cover with tarp.

Move Boxes of books (I can never get rid of books), out to driveway. (Will move back into garage till they can be gone through.

Empty wall cabinet. (or set up table in garage and move stuff from cabinet to table) Remove wall cabinet from wall. (lots of measuring now) Resinstall Wall cabinet 2′ higher. Clean off table by placing things back in the cabinet, another shelf or trash can as needed.

Go outside to RV slab and begin moving stuff so I can even get to saws. Move shelving material to either inside shed (have to post how we built that) or along house under eve.

Move both saws to garage and place under shelving.

Begin the archaeological dig at my workbench.

Activate the time machine.

My bench has been cluttered and covered, oh……. since the last time I cleaned it off. What makes it a time machine? As I go through the “stuff” I find things that take me back in time. Most all memories are happy, as they usually remind me of a someone I deeply care about. Some are bitter sweet, as the person that comes to mind has moved on from this life.

Tonight I tossed items from cars I no longer have:

Bmw parts, (some broken, why? just why?)

Ford Excursion Center caps (attempted ebay sales, never sold)

Ford Falcon pieces (Really? my last falcon was sold in like 1989)

Boat parts from projects that have come and gone.

Receipts ( man do I have the market cornered on those. Happy memories of hwy 1 and hwy 101 travels.)

And then tools.

Tools from my dad, that I have recently acquired. Some items that I have seen since I was a young boy in his garage, they now reside in mine. Some even have Kline etched into them, others came as Kleins, Ill keep them both.

Tools I forgot I even had. I started today with no hammers and no tape measures. I now have a drawer full of hammers and 6 tape measures. Crazy.

Then there are the old tools. These bring me to a stop. Time stops. These tools have a different name and a different story. The black carpenter square I hold almost reverently in my hands. The name “Sinner” etched into it by my grandfather. I can see it hanging in his garage still. The hub puller, still in its originally box, that is only used to pull the rear drums off of  big red. The small 4 drawer box that sits in the center of my bench. Made by grandpa, and still has the nails in it that he used for his many wood projects. (Bird houses, bird feeders, dog houses, and other items).  I can see him opening the drawers, grabbing a handful of nails and hammering them into the shingles of the doghouse. I miss my grandfather, but his presence is all around me in the garage. (Down to the 6′ long metal 6 volt battery sign that used to hang outside of the garage and gas station his father and uncle owned.) There is even pieces of wood up in my rafters that I moved when they cleaned out their house. I have a Keg of nails, I believe that he had hauled on his semi.

Then the phone buzzes, and I am brought back to the present. Two trash cans full later, the garage is beginning to come together. Jolene is back tucked in for the night, and progress has been made.  It will take many more nights and weekends to get the garage in shape for me to clutter it up again. I look forward to the memories it reawakens.

I have always been an avid reader, yet shunned writing. So, it is with some amazement, that I have started writing a book. Crazy, I know. It will be my story about a guy that puts himself in impossible situations, and finds way to survive them.  My friends from high-school and on know I used to consider myself the schlep-rock of my time. Always having the worst luck. But, when looking at event in its entirety, one with see that I have some of the most amazing luck, more that I deserve one could argue.

This book, by the way, is not to condone my personal exploits, but rather serve as warning to others. So back to titles for my book, choices I’m considering, and feel free to throw in your thoughts:

He took a big gulp, to a knife fight,  and won. (Cheesy, but true story, you will have to read the book)

The knight in tarnished, dented armor.  ( I like this one, yet may need some rewording.)

Just at the thought gathering stage, but a good use of my time. Idle minds have time to conceive bad ideas, that the body then tries to complete.

Back over 10 years ago I was told, on several occasions, quote,” that I was like a man lost in the desert, with a compass in my pocket. That I had everything I needed to get out of the desert, if I would just use the compass.” My father told me that, over and over. I hated it. It was usually when I was in some kind of predicament, of my own causing, through my own actions or lack there of.

I would get angry when I heard those words. I was looking for him to provide the quick, easy answer, not give me stupid advice. My fathers wisdom took years for me to understand, much longer then it should have. As the years past I took a different view on that phrase. I made it my own, and in typical John fashion, warped it to my own meaning. I relished in the fact that I was in the desert. It was where I belonged. Here I would meet people who were lost, or on their own journey through the desert. I would help them on their journey. Maybe they just needed someone to talk with,  a different perspective, or a nudge in the right direction. In any case, I enjoyed the thought of how I helped them on their journey. Then, mentally at least, I would go back to the desert where I would hang out. This has been the cycle of my life.

Four years ago, a special soul came into my life. She was on a journey of her own. Already a butterfly, she was in the process of transforming into an even more beautiful person. We journeyed a long way, and to many destinations.  Like any good book, it had all the parts. An attempted murder, surprising plot twists, tears of joy as well as sorrow, and we both survived.  During this journey, I often contemplated on how far she had gone, while ignoring that I continued behavior that would lead me back and deeper into my desert. Finally, she stepped out of the desert and breathed in the fresh air of life. Although the desire to travel together was still there, she was unable to continue with me on my reoccurring path of destruction,  that I have been bound to for so long.

The next 48 hrs was not typical for me. Usually a life event like that would have sent me for a ride in Jolene. An out of control, high speed ride, putting myself and others possibly in jeopardy. There would have been loud verbal outbursts, against the very universe itself, and how it was conspiring against me. All followed with a late night session of drinking beer, playing and posting songs from my youth, as well as a good pity party. Instead,  I spent 2 days finishing an important project, that was needed due to poor choices from 5 years ago. I studied for an upcoming test, including making a 1 page study guide, for use during the test, (although I have had that option in many a class, I had never used it) and believe I did well. Then the clouds cleared from my mental vision and I saw it.

All these years I had been in a desert, and yes it was my own making. But I was the only one staying there. I often rejoiced when I succeeded at overcoming a bad situation. (One I had put myself in). Instead I should have been learning to not put myself there. I wasn’t there to help others, they were sent to help me. I should have learned through my own advise. Over and over the universe sent people to help me get to through the desert. Each time I would follow them to the edge, and then, turn back, sometimes deeper into my own.

My Dad had tried to tell me so long and so often. The universe had tried to tell me over and over. It wasn’t until someone who I had such a connection with, told me they couldn’t watch me continue this cycle, and choose to walk away, that it became so clear. She put it in words that resonated with my soul. That I lived for the moment, not the life. That there cant be “a life’, if I never stopped to look at the ripple effects of my actions and in-actions.  I can never tell her thank you enough for giving me the most important gift. The chance to live.

This week, instead of going back to my area of plotting in the desert, I pulled out the compass and walked into the light………

Been awhile since I have posted, so I thought I would do an update of some of the items that I have been working on, and will be posting under projects. The problem that I find with my projects, is actually getting started. I love to research, plot and plan out the project. Gathering parts and equipment is exciting and kind of a scavenger hunt. However, once I get everything, I still need to start. Once I start, I am very task minded. I will work through the hours, or days to achieve completion. That said, the following projects will be posted soon.

How to build a 10X12X7 shed for under $300

Rebuilding a Holley 4150 4 barrel carburetor.

Changing a 2 barrel intake to a 4 barrel intake.

Will be posting these project along with the photos.