Change is inevitable. Enjoy every bit of the good moments. Endure the bad. Life is a constant stream of changes. Walk gently and take time to enjoy the quiet. Immerse yourself in the beauty of nature. You do not know how many sunrises or sunsets you will be given. Walk your own path. You are free.

Even the hardest matter will break with enough force. There is always hope. Knowledge is power. Learn everything! The resources are always there if you look.

If you lose your glasses, you will probably step on them while searching. You will be given incredible opportunities, and you will waste them. Don't do that. There are times when you will behave against your better judgement and be untrue to yourself. It will become an embarrassment and a situation full of regrets. Don't kick yourself. You are only human.

You cannot control the universe! Trust me, I've tried everything.

Talk to the misfits. They are most likely more interesting and will have the lowdown on all the cool stuff. Do not, under any circumstance, take a ride with a girl named Nikki in Sacramento.

Love with your whole heart. There are fewer regrets this way.

Whenever Olivia and I are traveling, we tend to find ourselves immersed with a sense of adventure and the desire to satisfy our Gypsy souls. Our path has never been static. It seems that the trip is solely navigated by the whims of our hearts, taking the necessary stops to enjoy our favorite things. We literally take the time to stop and smell the roses.

On our way back from a visit to her parents this weekend, we stopped in the local diner in Poland, Indiana for lunch. Finding the off the beaten path restaurant has become one of our favorite activities. The food here has always been on point. A little old lady can be seen quickly, but meticulously producing thoughtfully crafted food in the kitchen. Seeing this has proven to be a good metric of the quality of the food. Everything was cooked and seasoned to perfection.

The place was small and tidy. A busy waitress tended carefully to our experience, delivering our requests to the table. Vintage mismatched dining ware decorated with pretty designs awaited us, topped with delicious hot food straight from the griddle with the aroma and steam still wafting from the plate.

Cooks Corner was the name of this particular place; a fitting name, but this experience can be found all long the path, if you are willing to veer off the course and find those little nooks. We have our favorites, of course.

Our trips are filled with fantastic experiences like these. We make sure to fully immerse into the moment, have interesting conversations, make lots of stops, and avoid finding ourselves glued to some digital amusement except, of course, Snapchat. Even I have not been able to escape Liv's obsession with the goofy filters. Oh well, ...what is life without whimsy?

Just around Christmas time last year, I was in the grocery store after a visit and thought I'd buy her and the crew a couple dozen cookies. I made my purchase and drove back to my old haunt. Right past the order speaker and stopped in front of the window. My friend, a little confused, peeped out to greet me and I presented her with the cookies. She asked why I was doing this. I told her "just because", and it felt good to see an old friend every time I stopped by. The joy and confusion on her face made me smile the rest of that day.

Anyway, I met her again this evening at the same drive-thru window and she said to me, "I will never forget that time you brought me cookies. It was the sweetest thing." And once again, I've been smiling about it since. Proof that kindness works both ways! A couple lessons here:

1. It only takes small deeds to make a lot of joy.

2. If you want to make friends for life, bring cookies.

These are the moments when one can take notice of the delicate beauty of our selves and each other; the sound of a breath, the beating of the heart, the warmth of touch, that loving feeling. This is the place where I want to be with you.

Earlier this week, NASA spacecraft Cassini met its planned fiery end in the gaseous atmosphere of planet Saturn. The mission was a marvel of modern science & technology.

Did you know, we have 2 other spacecraft roaming around in deep space? Voyager 1 is currently traveling in interstellar space at some 13 billion miles from the Sun, and its partner, Voyager 2 is trailing behind in the Heliosphere at 11 Billion miles! The electronic and mechanical instruments onboard are still functioning over 40 years from Voyager 1's original launch date of September 5, 1977.

Both spacecraft can still transmit data back to Earth currently, and have enough projected power for another 10 years!

All this...and WIFI from the router to my living room is spotty!! Very frustrating.

As it turns out, one of the teachers was a professional comedian, and this class was just his side gig. I kid you not! He taught the monotonous class with his own brand of humor, which made it somewhat bearable. The other teacher was a lawyer, and this was also his side gig. No kidding. Their styles could not have been more different. During Randy's class, we churned through the material quickly. He took every opportunity to inject a bit of humor into the otherwise humorless subject. Just bearable. Mark took an entirely opposite approach. In his excruciating monotone style, we delved into every nook of the lesson. Tort law, basics of indemnity, accidental death & dismemberment, history of insurance- you know; fun stuff. I snapped out of a semi-conscious nap at one point to notice that half the class was in the same state as I. The other half seemed to be either doodling their own Picasso or furiously taking notes. Brown nosers.

I passed the state test and became a bona fide Indiana licensed insurance agent. And to continue my series of bad decisions, I allowed my wife at the time to give me a slick haircut to begin my new endeavor. I should have known better, because this young woman had a long track record of hack jobs and victims. At one point during the session, she started to cry and refused to let me look at the problem. Sure enough, it turned out to be the worse haircut in the history of haircuts. This was an omen of worse things to come.

I persisted. I ventured out in the exciting world of insurance sales dressed in a ill fitting suit, bad shoes, a bad haircut, lugging a fancy 100 lb briefcase full of marketing material. To put the cherry on top of this success sundae, I drove around in a 1987 chevy station wagon with chipping paint. I totally looked like the guy you should trust with your major medical policies and your parents medicare supplements! The next few years would interesting, at the very least.

Okay....now you know waaay too much about me. I may have to get rid of you to cover my tracks ;)

I am currently sitting at my desk on a Sunday morning sipping my favorite cup of coffee, which happens to be any cup of coffee that is preferably hot and within reach. The house is quiet. There is not much going on, with the exception of a Mojo Kitty stirring around at my feet.

I am well past the age where I am controlled mostly by impulse, although there are times it will get the better of me. I have to confess that I enjoy the relative routine, however monotonous, adult life brings.

You may think of me as someone who could not possibly relate with your youthful passion and energy, but you must remember that I was once you. My struggle to find a path in this world began with rejecting everything that was normal and boring. I am trying to send you a message from the other side of all this, that somewhere along the line, normal, boring, and quiet, are things that you will value.

You want to change the world? Do it. You have all the time and energy now. But you must learn to change yourself first. Everything takes work!

You want everything your way? Then you must learn responsibility. (It's really not a bad word.) YOU are the head honcho of your life, but only if you rely on no one else to take care of your failings.

But mostly, you must learn the arts of true love and forgiveness. Give your love freely and without condition always, especially when hate and anger are the easy choices. Forgive your own faults, and remember that others are just ordinary human beings with their own struggles. Set yourself on a path of constant improvement. Work on these every single stage of your life.

IMPORTANT: VISIT and CALL your parents often!! Change your got damn oil. And pick up after yourself!

8 MINS 20 SECS

Yesterday is gone forever, receding into the abyss of an elusive dream, but today has arrived in spectacular fashion; full of possibility and promise. Let the light in.

SOULMATE 02.09.2015

First, let me lay down some knowledge about the people that would be attending this event. Juggalos are the followers of the rap/hardcore rock group Insane Clown Posse and other groups under the Psychopathic Records label. Typically, they are young males from a lower socio-economic class, who feel somewhat ostracized by "normal" society, although there are some female followers, called Juggalettes, who participate. They have formed a subculture of their own, with exclusive lingo, dress, traditions, and philosophy, preaching tolerance for all forms of weirdness and deviance. Many wear dark clown make-up as a mark of identity to this social collective. The subculture has garnered enough followers and a reputation of nefarious activities to catch the attention of the FBI, who has labeled them unilaterally as a hybrid criminal gang. The Juggalos, along with the ACLU have filed lawsuits and staged public protests against what they consider an unjustified classification. These young people proudly wave their freak flags high and have created a whole scene, where acceptance for their kind can be found. Yeah.... We get it! Fight the powahh!! We'd fit right in!

We had parked the car a few blocks from the venue and cautiously walked toward the event, either one knowing fully what to expect. No need to attract any unwanted attention. Just act like this is what we do on any regular Tuesday night. I was dressed in my usual button-up shirt, fedora, and cowboy boots.

The concert was held at an old theater, which was dark, open, and had a dank atmosphere, hinting of a fog machine or stale cigarette smoke. The floor had an incline towards the stage. We flashed our tickets and braced for whatever was going to happen next. It was a bit early and a few of the Juggalos and Juggalettes started to gather and mingle around. My friend and I stuck close together, throwing out a nervous, but overly cordial nod here and there, trying not to look completely out of place. Strength in numbers was the best policy here. Even as a duo, our chances of surviving this new experience were better than being picked off alone.

Soon, the show started and the theater floor began to fill with people. The music was loud! Stage lights were flashing. And the Juggalos began to move about. Some dancing wildly. A performer started rapping lyrics to a crunchy guitar riff with a heavy bass line in full dark clown make-up. His stage name was something menacing like Knife's Edge or Razors Edge. I don't remember. The thought crossed my mind that he looked a bit like our mutual friend Chris Parker. Could it be? Is this Chris's secret night gig? No way! (It wasn't him) This guy was spitting rhymes and trying hard to get the audience to engage with some talk back. A thumpy drum track was keeping it all in sync.

This may be anti-climatic, but nothing out of the ordinary happened at all. The show went on with 3 or 4 acts. The kids had fun dancing and vibing to the music. Some of the music wasn't terrible. At the end of one song, the whole crowd started chanting in unison, "Family! Family! Family!....,"which I translated as their tribal celebration of belonging and acceptance, however weird or freaky you may be. We felt so inspired...or maybe we did not want to appear antagonistic, that we chanted right along with them! Family! Family! Was this our initiation? Had WE become Juggalos? Probably not. Did we stick out like 2 sore thumbs? Absolutely! Whoop! Whoop!

DARKSIDE

GOING TO CALIFORNIA

What they failed to mention was that she was batshit crazy and you'd end up crossing the country for her several times. They also forgot to tell you that you'd wake screaming one night as she tried to drive up the wrong ramp to the freeway somewhere in Utah en route to Indiana. So much for taking turns driving. -Or the time she'd actually take you up on your "advice" to work as a stripper in Louisville. Strange times...

By the end of high school, I had developed a burning desire for adventure and a relentless fascination with this strange place called California. So many of my favorite bands and artists had written odes to it's magical energy and mysterious ways. I was hooked! My mind was made up to go as soon as possible, against the wishes of my parents. Visiting such a place would require some preparation and cold hard cash. I worked at a ironing board factory 16 hours a day to save the money required for my expedition. The sacrifice would be worth it, I told myself. California or bust with my guitars loaded into the car!

I met Carla out there at the end of my teenage years, which was appropriate, because this kind of relationship could only happen with the proper elements of childish ambition, blind lust, and unrestrained freedom. Good times, indeed.

I was crazy enough then to bring her back to Indiana that summer to live with my parents. They were saints for allowing it. I learned quickly that California crazy was a much different brand of crazy than I had ever experienced. She was an interesting mix of Samoan and Mexican blood with a fiery personality, and her father was a kungfu master. All this may sound made up, but it is absolutely true! I did not know at the time that she had left California without informing her family, which would present some slight problems later on. But in the meantime, there was some crazy times to be had until she learned that her father passed and had to go back to home. I followed soon after.

We split up amicably after reconnecting for a short time out there, so years later I tried to track her down and learned first hand the real dangers of Google stalking. After an intensive search, I ran across her obituary. I was heartbroken. She died at 30 with some kind of freak stomach illness. Such a tragic end. Rest in peace, Carla. Maybe the world could only handle your kind of crazy for a short time. There was a boy that was always crazy in love with you, with an aching in his heart.

Truth has been sold to the highest bidder and corruption thrives. America has become a mass of people living blindly. Unthinking. Unfeeling. Resigned, apathetic, and oblivious to the path of self-destruction.

We still have the choice to use what is left of our freedom to remain mindful and informed of the real schemes being executed in perfect fashion. There has never been a more important time for the free thinkers of the world to change the course of this runaway train. Tolerance, knowledge, truth, and kindness must replace the aggressive and deceitful rhetoric of the current policies, if we are to escape being plunged head first into this machine of destruction.

In summary, much of our freedom is a manipulated and fabricated story sold to you as such. Celebrate true freedom, today and everyday, by choosing to be an informed, active thinker, and not a victim of ignorance and blatant deceit. Free your mind. Live and love purposely. It's kind of important.