If you have to fly every week for work, it sure helps when ya love to travel. My employer recently opened a new office in Portland, Oregon and asked if I’d be willing to help with the launch and growth. They just needed me there a couple days a week, no relocation required and a great new challenge to throw myself into. Let me think about it: “Ok!”

Airport life has always fascinated me. People from all over coming and going, hustling and bustling, waiting and delaying, eating and drinking. Some are stressed the hell out. Some are excited to get the hell outta dodge. Others are just exhausted and try catching some Z’s at their gate while sprawled out on the floor or across multiple chairs.

As for me? I’m frequently found at one of the restaurants / bars, contributing to the local economy.

There’s no place on earth quite like the airport, and the bars are no exception. Have a Bloody Mary at 6am anywhere else and you’re an alcoholic, but at the airport? You fit right in baby. I’ve shared counter space with elderly ladies, 20-something lads and everyone in between. Some drink cuz they’re nervous to fly. Others do it to pass the time. Then there’s Miguel, a bartender at the Sacramento airport who, no matter what you order, says “would you like a half-priced shot with that?”

I think he earns more than the average C.E.O.

Traveling on the same airlines every week, at the same times and going to the same destinations is almost surreal. It affords the chance to get to know people that you otherwise never would.

Take Barry for example, a flight attendant for Southwest who likes to make flying a fun experience. He works a monologue into his pre-flight announcements and he’s freaking hilarious. He probably isn’t used to having someone on the same flight every week though, and after my 3rd or 4th time flying with him I had to give him a hard time: “Hey man I’ve heard you on this exact same flight the last few weeks and all I can say is….it’s time to get some new material dude.”

“Ok come back next week and I’ll be ready for ya!” Fist bump.

He didn’t forget – he was ready!

Then there’s Eric, a bartender at Hopworks Urban Brewery at the Portland airport. Always engaging, attentive and remembers your name. He recently said he was traveling to the SF Bay Area for a tech conference after his shift, that he had to “make an appearance” and that he was chartering a private plane cuz he hates flying commercial. Come to find out, he owns his own marketing company and has some BIG-name companies as clients. Bartending is just a hobby for him, something he’s done for years and it makes him happy.

Blake is a Concierge Extraordinaire at the Hotel Lucia in downtown Portland. I don’t stay there every time but when I do, we frequently chat it up and have spent hours talking about everything from sports to politics to the proper way to load toilet paper. He’s just a great guy who loves his family, his job and life in general.

And Brie is a bubbly employee at the SixT car rental agency at the Portland airport. A young gal in her 20’s with a great sense of humor, she’s flat out embarrassed about her name. When she first told me this, I was a little incredulous.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’m just one of a squillion Mikes walking the planet….how many actual BRIES’ are out there?? Besides, brie is one of the best cheeses ever – it’s not like you’re named after something boring like provolone!”

I’ve called her Provolone ever since.

Sure, I’m a little annoying and have a lame sense of humor, but I like to think my reverse-psychology has contributed to her self-esteem a little. 😉

There are good, genuine people all around us all the time and yet we’re often too caught up in our own world to get to know them. I’m certainly guilty of this too, but my new work assignment has been a blessing in ways I never imagined. In a world-gone-mad, connecting with new homo sapiens is good for the soul.

It was 4am this morning, a Saturday, and I was doing some serious gazing at the insides of my eyelids. I was wiped out after a long week and as far as I can tell, I was getting good slumbers. The sliding glass door in my bedroom was open, a cool breeze entering as it pleased. And then it happened.

My eyelids either felt embarrassed at the way I was staring at them or something was waking me up.

What’s that sound? A car alarm?!? Good grief people, can’t you let your cars sleep in? It’s Saturday!

As I lay there trying to piece together the dream I’d been having, I was hoping the car’s owner would disable the alarm at any second so I could return to my catatonic state without having to get up and close the slider – that breeze was nice and breezy. Alas, the alarm kept being alarming, and as I gradually became more conscious, I realized that it wasn’t a car alarm after all.

It was birds.

Geezus, don’t YOU guys realize it’s Saturday? Didn’t you have a long week too?

It sounded like they were out in the distance a ways and there seemed to be just a couple of ‘em. What birds say to each other God only knows, but these two were some serious chatterboxes, lemme just tellya. As they continued their early morning gossip session, some of their pals must’ve decided it sounded good and juicy and wanted to join the convo cuz the next thing I knew, it became one huge gaggle of chirping, squirping, and what sounded like burping. Talk about fowl play!

I started getting up to close the sliding glass door, butchya know….did I mention the breeze? And even though my feathered friends weren’t respectful of proper etiquette by waiting until a more civilized hour, I couldn’t help but think that maybe this was how my day was supposta start. Not that it was time to get up and be a productive human or anything. But when I think of all the noise in the world today….the madness, the sadness, the chaotic threads that weave throughout the globe on the daily… it dawned on me – a pre-dawn dawning – that this was quite the catchy chorus going on.

Sometimes a caveman would do well to eavesdrop on the non-human world more often. The sounds of the breeze in the trees, Bigfoot howling out in the distance, and the birds singing their tunes just as they have since the beginning of time. They have no clue how fucked up the world is. To them, it’s just another day in paradise.

It’s been pretty dark around here lately. Not dark as in, lack of light (I paid the utility bill). More like a heaviness brought on by the latest, senseless mass murders to take place in the US. Within a matter of nine days, 2 different 18-year-old males pulled the ultimate sucker punch and gunned down innocent people just living their lives. The first round of victims were people just out doing some grocery shopping on a Sunday afternoon. And the latest round of course, the unthinkable act involving the slaughter of 19 elementary school children and a couple of teachers.

Are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!

Naturally, the gun-control debate has reached higher decibel levels since these tragedies. This – in and of itself, has a darkness of its own. Remember when during times of national tragedy, we’ve actually come together? We’ve put aside our differences and focused more on what we have in common. We recognize our shared humanity and tend to treat each other a little kinder. A little more compassion to our fellow man.

Nowadays, the moment a mass murder takes place, people start screaming at each other.

Sadly, we’re a very divided people, and whether it’s gun-control, virus vaccinations or pretty much anything else these days – the hot button of politics rears its ugly head.

But one thing that seems to get drowned out in all the noise is the issue of mental health.

It takes an extremely disturbed individual to commit such heinous acts. The fact that these last two gunmen were only 18 years old is hard to fathom. How did these very young men, who were barely considered adults, get to the point where they were so full of hate that they decided to KILL?

People don’t like talking about mental heatlh.

Yet tens of millions of people worldwide suffer from some form of mental illness.

Life is rough all by itself these days for so many reasons, for so many people. It’s hard to process all that’s happening, both at home and abroad.

Throw in some depression, anxiety, etc. and the darkness can seem that much darker.

We don’t know if the shooters suffered from mental illness, but it’s safe to say they weren’t mentally healthy either.

Are we completely helpless? Is there nothing we can do to make a difference in this world-gone-mad?

Au contraire.

For starters, we can be mindful of our own self-care. It can take on many different forms, but you know the common denominators – getting enough sleep, regular exercise, and spending time with friends and family. Taking breaks when you need to. Listening to your favorite music on the regular. Leaning into your faith if applicable. Watching some comedy. Spending time outdoors and soaking up some vitamin D.

If you think you might be suffering from depression, anxiety or the like, you aren’t alone. Not by a long shot. Our brain chemicals can get out of whack, and it’s absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Talk to your doctor about treatment options. There’s zero shame in being human.

One way you can help make a difference in the world is by being true to yourself. Some might call that self-serving, but it’s actually the complete opposite. When we’re at our best, we’re better equipped to help others, to serve others, to make a difference within our own circle of influence.

Another way we can make a difference – one of the best things we can do that doesn’t cost a dime – is to simply be kind to others. Know someone who’s going through a hard time? Lend them your ear. Give them some encouragement. Help a neighbor with a project. Check on your elderly relatives regularly if you’re fortunate enough to still have some. One of the coolest things about serving others is that…not only does it help them, but it helps us too. It gives us the feels and helps us to think less about our own problems.

We can either curse the darkness or light a candle.

Or both. It’s okay.

Namaste.

Late last summer I became an empty nester for the second time. Since I had already “been there done that” before, this time I felt ready to embrace the next season in my life. I hadn’t exactly enjoyed the first go-around, as I’m sure any parent who’s had their kids fly the coop can relate to. I wasn’t completely alone at the time however; my daughter’s dog Jasper stayed home and kept me company, which helped somewhat to soften the blow. This time around though, my daughter got an apartment and Jasper went with her. It was the best scenario for both of them really and I was happy for the selfish little bastards.

While I’d love to get another dog, I travel frequently for work and would have to board it a couple nights a week. Don’t wanna do that. And even though I’m not really a cat person, I gave some thought to having a feline meowing all over the place. No need to board a cat! After weighing the pros and cons though, I scrapped the idea and decided to jump into the frenzied fray of fish ownership.

For the first time at a pet store, I found myself comparing and contrasting some aquariums. I liked the idea of a having a large, 50 or 75-gallon tank that requires a stand. Going big always seems like a good idea to us cavedudes, at least at first. Considering the size of my place though and where I’d want my tank to be so that I could easily see the fishies, initially I decided on a “starter aquarium”….a small, 5-gallon rectangular thing that came with L.E.D. lighting and such. As is custom when getting a new aquarium, you have to condition the water and let it circulate through the filter for a coupla days prior to populating. I got home, set everything up….and was immediately underwhelmed.

It just looked so damn small, and it looked like a toy. What self-respecting guy can be ok with this? Not only was it small, it just looked plain boring. My future fish deserved better dammit. I took it back and swapped it for a bigger, half-dome looking thing. It’s twice as big at 10-gallons, taller, and I instantly liked the vibe. During the waiting period before I could get some fish, I found myself already enjoying it. With the L.E.D. lighting and decor in it, it kinda takes on a lava-lamp look and feel. YEAH Baby!

I was stoked to go back to the pet store and pick out my new roomies. I wanted to get a good variety of shapes and colors, but didn’t want too many – wanted ’em to have enough room to just chill. I ended up getting 6 lil fishies – a couple of tiny dudes, a couple of medium sized dudes and a couple of bigger ones. And of course, being the loving fish dad that I am, I had to name ’em. Duh! The smallest ones are pretty much twins so they became Frick and Frack. One of the medium ones is orange and black like my SF Giants, so he’s Buster (as in Posey). The other medium sized dude became Jack. I mean, who hasn’t always wanted a fish named Jack? Of the larger ones, one was green so he became Shamrock, and the largest one in the tank is a beautiful pink-ish girl. She rules the waters, she’s the biggest, she’s the queen. She was born to be Latifah.

I figgered we’d all live happily ever-after, but came home from a work trip a while back and discovered that Shamrock was just gone without a trace. Wtf! I thought about hiring Ace Ventura the pet detective, but he’s let fame go to his head and his fees are astronomical these days. So I did the next best thing. After the proper mourning period of Shamrock’s loss, I went out and found a beautiful purply fishy dude to round out the fish fam. So far, Prince is still alive and kicking….errr….swimming.

The pet store peeps told me to just feed ’em every three days. “They’re small and have tiny stomachs and that’s really all they need.” Really? Ok, you guys are the experts. For the first few weeks, the little swimmers were on the PetSmart 3-day diet. I’d come home from a long day at work, have an adult beverage and sometimes would just gaze at them for long periods of time. There’s something very relaxing about watching ’em swim and wiggle around, it’s hard to explain but it’s just true. But there would be times when they seemed to be looking right through me, as if to say “we’re in here swimming around for your lonely-ass empty-nest pleasure and you seriously think it’s ok to have us on this starvation diet?” And ya know, they were right. I mean…how’s the quality of life for fish in a tank? There’s only so much they can do / see in there. Seems kinda boring really! Not to mention that the average life span is only 18 months or so to begin with. Screw the experts. My fish chow down every day and now enjoy breakfast, lunch and dinner. Ok not really, but I do feed ’em once a day. Smaller portions than the 3-day diet, but hey….I gotta keep the kiddos happy – we’re family after all.

After hanging up from a call at work recently, one of my colleagues stepped into my office. I could tell from the look on his face that something was up.

Handing me a note with a gentleman’s name and phone number on it, he said “This guy called for you while you were on the other line and he was a complete ass, I don’t know what his problem is but he’s all worked up!”

After hearing what the guy said I may have gotten a little worked up myself. I hadn’t spoken with him before, it was his first time reaching out to us and I was bewildered why anyone would be so rude, especially during an initial contact. I thanked my coworker and told him to try shrugging it off, that the guy was probably either having a bad day or he was just a miserable person in general. I purposely waited a while before calling back, for both our sakes.

He was nice enough at first but it didn’t take long before he was interrupting me. “Mike, Mike, Mike, Mike, MIKE…let me save you some time bud. I just wanna know the pricing and schedule an appointment, I know all about this other stuff. I’m an educated man.”

The thought of just blurting out our fee structure, thank him for calling and hanging up was tempting, but he didn’t know all that he thought he did and I had to do my job. Told him I’d cut to the chase but there was a little more we needed to discuss prior to scheduling him. I continued on and it wasn’t ten seconds later before he started again: “Mike, Mike…..MIIIIIKE…..seriously dude let’s not waste each other’s time, as long as your pricing is competitive that’s all I care about.”

Ever bite your tongue til it bleeds? Ok me neither but I told him – again – that we don’t just schedule appointments without discussing certain things, that it wasn’t just about the price and that by continually interrupting me he was making it take longer for us both. After a pause on his end, he conceded, and by the end of the conversation he was scheduled – for later that same day. Oh boy.

It was a busy day at work. I had several back-to-back appointments and after one of ’em ended, I grabbed a quick drink in the breakroom. One of my other coworkers was there and said “hey just a heads up, the 2:00 appt guy is in the lobby filling out his paperwork and he said he wasn’t very happy with how he was treated on the phone.”

Ohhh reaaaaaallly!

After the guy in question – we’ll call him Jim – finished the initial steps of his appointment, it was my turn with him and he came into my office. He wasn’t at all what I pictured. He was about my age and as nice as could be – I immediately wondered how this could be the same guy I spoke with earlier. He seemed to have cognitive challenges – it took him a while to think of what he wanted to say at times, and it was difficult for him to finish his sentences. After talking further about our services, he mentioned that he really couldn’t afford it yet but he scheduled the appointment anyway because he thinks he’ll have the funds soon and wanted to meet us in person. He went on to say that he rode his Beachcruiser bike to our office cuz he didn’t currently have a car, and was nearly hit twice by distracted drivers who were on their phones. Upon hearing how far he rode to our office, I was shocked.

Jim also said he recently lost his mother, who suffered from dementia.

I could see the pain in his face. Sitting across from my desk was a man who, by all accounts gave the initial impression that he was a complete jerk. Now that we were face to face, it was a different story.

I sensed embarrassment on his part that he had shared so much, but it also seemed he was simply a lonely guy who needed someone to talk to and was hoping someone would listen. At that point, it was anything but business as usual.

It was just a couple of guys talking about life.

We finished up, I had another appointment right after Jim’s and we had run a little late. I tried picturing him riding his bike all the way home again and wished it was the end of the day so that I could offer him a ride. I thanked him for coming in and told him how much I enjoyed talking with him, extending my hand for a handshake. He reached his hand out, then said…

“Would it be okay if I gave you a hug?”

Wow.

Of course man. We hugged and it wasn’t just the normal quick one that guys do – it was an actual hug between 2 guys who just met, but found a connection of the soul. I knew it wasn’t just that he wanted to give me a hug, but that he needed one for himself.

Funny thing about hugs – when we give, we also receive. And I received one too.

Thank you for the unexpected dose of humanity Jim. It was my pleasure to meet you.

I recently heard of a celebrity’s passing and was shocked, not so much that he died but because for some reason I thought he had passed several years ago. Not sure how I got it wrong, but I hadn’t heard any mention of him this whole time until the news broke of his “actual” death. Several media outlets described it the same way: “he died unexpectedly.”

It’s always struck me as an odd term. I get it – when someone dies it’s usually a surprise at the time unless they were terminally ill. Even so, in such cases it’s never said that they passed “expectedly.”

It’s true though – we’re all expected to die.

As the iconic soap opera line goes….”Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of our Lives” (no idea which soap that came from). I’ve always appreciated the analogy, but one thing I hadn’t thought about until recently is how freakishly similar it is in comparison with the time-speed-age factor. Why is it that time seems to go faster the older we get? Yup – when the sand in the top of an hourglass starts running out, it picks up speed. Duuude!

If we could see the hourglass of our lives and knew how many days we had left, how would that affect how we spend our time? Would we worry less about comforts and material things (gasp) and concentrate more on our relationships? Would we be more inclined to mend fences with people we had a falling out with? Would we want to say our “I love you’s” more frequently to those that we love and appreciate?

Was that a rhetorical question?

If you’ve never read the book Tuesdays With Morrie, based on the true story of a dying man – just do it. An instant classic, I had been meaning to read it and saw it on my parent’s coffee table many years ago. It was my Dad’s, and when mentioning how I’d been wanting to read it, he said how great it was and offered to let me borrow it.

Dad passed about a year later.

I still have his book.

However much sand we have left…..may we use it wisely.

It’s always a special time during the week between Christmas and New Year’s and many people still give a holiday-esque greeting. Christmas was 3 days ago and some are still saying ‘Merry Christmas’, while others are already saying Happy New Year even though NYE is a few days away. Of course, there’s the ever popular “Happy Holidays” which seems to fit particularly well right now.

Regardless of what is (or isn’t) said, it can feel like a magical time. A lot of people are on vacation, and for those that are back to the grind, the workload might be lighter this time of year depending on one’s occupation. As a society that puts so much emphasis on the holidays, we tend to milk every last drop out of ’em that we can.

It may sound blasphemous but I’ve come to enjoy the time between Christmas and New Year’s most of all. We’ve survived the shopping, the crowds and the family gatherings. We have no idea what the new year will bring, but aren’t in a hurry to think too far ahead either. It’s still the holidays after all – we can just breathe and find our happy place.

Being in reality purgatory has its advantages…

I write, therefore I must have something to say. Ok not necessarily but let’s just get through this together.

Since my readership is now in the tens of thousands (give or take….you know….tens of thousands) I’ve decided to give in to global demand and try to get some Cavemanny words down on more of a semi-irregular basis. Let’s face it, we need each other. Don’t ask how, just go with it – it’s better this way.

Christmas 2021 is officially in the books and as I sit here getting caffeinated on a Monday morning, it’s a good time to reflect on the last year. It’s been a challenging one in many respects, but who among us can’t say the same? Surely for some, it was one of the best years of their life. If you fall into this category then congrats and I hope 2022 is even better for you. But if you’re like most of us, you’d probably say that 2021 was a mixed bag.

Gotta love those bags that are mixed. Isn’t that the human experience? We can feel like we have it all together on a Monday, and by Thursday we don’t have a clue. We make huge progress in some areas yet have setbacks in others. We buckle up for the ride and “feel the need…for speed”, then see a speed bump straight ahead and hafta slam on the brakes. If there’s one thing about life, it’s gloriously unpredictable.

I guess I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sure, I’d much rather see progress on all fronts with nothing but green lights and blue skies all the time, but apparently that’s not the world we live in. As I look back on 2021, I see a lot of layers. There was pain. There were joys. A lot of good came into my life, and while not everything worked out the way I wanted, it was still far better than 20-freaking-20. The last couple of years may have left me a little jaded when thinking about a NEW New Year coming up, but even so….

2022? Let’s DANCE.

Life man. It zooms by us at a dizzying pace and picks up speed the older we get. Amidst the backdrop of a global pandemic, rising tensions between multiple countries, crazy inflation and an ever-decreasing feeling of unity in these “United” States, we live in an age of constant uncertainty. It’s in times like these that being able to find our center becomes more important than ever.

We’re all different of course but when it comes to feeling centered, I believe there are 3 universal needs we share that make the foundation:

LOVE

LAUGHTER

HOPE

(trademark on L.L.H. pending with merch available soon) (ok that’s not true but that’d be cool) (ok I’ll look into it)

Love – where would any of us be without it? Giving and receiving love has gotta be THE single best gift this life affords us. Whether it’s the kind found in a deep, committed relationship, the immense love we feel for our children, our parents (if we’re lucky enough to still have them), siblings or extended family and friends, the old familiar saying is true: “Love makes the world go ’round.” In a time where hate seems to be spreading like wildfire, having love in our hearts is a safe harbor we can turn to time and time again. Knowing there are people who love us, always want the best for us and would do anything for us is absolute gold. And one of the coolest things about love is the byproduct effect – the more we give of ourselves and actively love others, the easier it becomes to take our minds off our own calamities.

When it comes to feeling centered, Love is at the center of it all.

Laughter just so happens to be one of life’s greatest gifts too and it doesn’t cost a dime. When the daily headlines are anything but amusing, being able to find humor in the day-to-day madness is the bestest. It’s a highly underrated form of self-care really, and for my money there’s nothing like a good belly laugh (or even a slight chuckle) to help the mindset. Feeling down? Watch one of your favorite comedy shows or some stand-up. Get out for a drink with a funny friend. Even when we’re smack in the middle of a stressful workday, we can simply think of a funny joke or past hilarious experience to help us hit the reset button. Of course, laughing – in and of itself – won’t make our challenges go away, but it will sure help us be in a better place to take ’em on.

Hope. How important is it to have? It’s hard to quantify until the day comes when it’s gone. In fact, of the “Big 3” this last one might be the most important of all. There are people in life who have endured far more than you or I, yet persevered to overcome incredible odds. Take Nelson Mandela for example, a man who was wrongly imprisoned for a whopping 27 years. During that time it would’ve been easy for him to completely give up. He probably figured he’d die in prison, and even if he thought he might get out eventually, it would’ve been reaaal easy for him to be so bitter and want so much revenge that it could’ve killed him from the inside out. Not only did he not lose hope, he was eventually released after more than a quarter century and immediately started building bridges with people in order to inspire hope in them! Incredible. Amazeballs. And a thousand other adjectives too.

Whatever helps you to find your center, I’m convinced it’s more important than ever for us to dwell there on the daily. Yes, the world will still be insane. People will still be crazy and do horrific things. Plagues and economies might crumble us at any minute and for all we know, aliens and Bigfoot are planning a global takeover.

That’s okay. We aren’t completely powerless.

We can love, laugh, and hope our way through it all.

Ahhh, December – that special time of year when people seem nicer, cheerier and caught up in the holiday spirit. While it’s something that many look forward to, it can also be a depressing time for various reasons, the weather being one of them. Here in Northern California we don’t lay claim to very many extreme weather conditions; no hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, and oddly enough no Nor’easters. I suppose the argument could be made that one reason we don’t get Nor’easters is cuz we’re not actually in the Northeast but the fact remains that we don’t get ’em!

With California going on its 141st straight year of drought (sumthin’ like that) we’ve grown accustomed to having mild winters here in the northern part of the landscape. Our “indian summers” typically extend the summer weather much longer than most other states, and when hearing about major snowstorms elsewhere it’s easy to feel detached from what other American peeps hafta deal with. But we DO have to contend with what’s widely agreed to be the Mother of all extreme weather conditions. You guessed it – I’m talking about the dreaded….. graylight.

As of this writing we’re 5 days into December, and ever since its arrival we’ve been dealing with day after day after day after day after day (according to my right hand that makes 5 days) of GRAY. Ya know….when us NorCal cavemen look to the skies we’re used to seeing at least a coupla different colors. So far, December 2021 has taken both of the usual ones away and replaced ’em with just one other one. Not cool. I mean if ya wanna take away our blues and yellows, fine. Tis the season and all that. But since you’re taking away two colors, dontchya think you should replace ’em with two others? Where’s your sense of equity? And if you must leave us with only one, would it kill ya to give us one that’s a little more….oh Idk…..colorful? Green or orange or purply or sumthin’?

One can only assume that the sun is still out there somewhere and is still making its daily rounds, otherwise the graylight would be graydark, but even so…get it together December!

Grunt Grunt!