.....Rinse and spit

      I workout.
I work out the funk, the emotional baggage and perhaps last nights' guilty pleasures.  (discipline in a dimly lit kitchen......not good)
So,..in the Cardiac workout room or "Situation" room as I call it   ..........CNN, FOX, the VIEW, CNBC, ...peppered w/  court TV, Hollywood gossip and the like are being broadcast. Side by side on a bank of flat screen TVs. All of them struggling to shape the main stream... the viewers.
    

    Sweat flows from unknown ports on my forehead. I'm feeling the 'Chi'....until my eyes catch Trump or Clinton spewing from those 40 inch screens. I kind of puke up a little in my mouth but no taste of bile...it taste of Fox or CNN. I'm force fed rude behavior and ugly displays of statesmanship until I retch with disappointment. Both parties are dumbing down and their supporters are cheering ! What ?
How can thousands...'thousands'.... gather and turn the arena into a professional wrestling display ?
I'm ready for Hulk Hogan to come out and body slam Hillary to the mat....roar!  Here comes Trump in his rubber speedos' jumping up and down. Fake wrestlers tan and fake hair comb. The crowd chants,.. 'U-S-A!'. U-S-A!' Like they're proud they can spell it.
....time to rinse and spit that weird taste.

     'Thank God, I was never into pep-rally's in High school'. I say this to myself as I move on to the elliptical. What a stupid machine. It forces you to motor your arms 'to and fro' while your legs are pedaling..... standing up. ...but it feels challenging so it must but good for you. I'm feeling the pain... life is good and then..... My eyes looked away and up to the TV screens again. Whoopi Goldberg is telling the masses how too interpret what is good for them.......
I kind of puke up a little in my mouth but no taste of bile...it taste of Fox or CNN. I'm forced fed this 'eat this' dish.
No wonder the voting masses are team zombies....it's the force fed brain-dishes ! The only food they can feel through their drive-in TV windows. I love my work outs,...I make sense out of all the pain.
....time to rinse and spit.

    As I retreat to the tread mill my 'Chi' redirects me through the artificial miles I tread. I'm going nowhere fast but it feels good. The endorphins are blooming and all is.......drat. My eyes are 20/20 but they keep me out of focus. I gave my pupils  instructions to ignore this visual cafeteria of crap. What now ?
 I see folks screaming, some with signs held high. False alarm.....the Price is Right is on that screen.

    My Generation was raised on Sky King,(Eisenhower)Frank Sinatra, (JFK) and Walt Disney,(Ronald Reagan).
Generation X and the Millennios have Pokey Man,(Bush) Call of Duty(Fellatio in the Oval office) and Cage Fighting-UFC,(Obama)
Why would I expect anything less from the political arena.

   What a workout,...time to rinse and spit. Never swallow.



 

March-ing On

   It's March 1st. (then look back)

  Last week I've disengaged from my job. The employment that supported my son and I since he was two yrs. old. The job that paid the bills, the job that captured the American Dream...a house.
Yes,.... like all jobs over a period of time, fashioned it into a life preserver... involuntarily. (Though I did swim with the sharks long ago. Another blog I suspect). I'm 61 and I've pulled the plug.

  My son has left the proverbial nest, sold the nest in five days, paid off my debts and now anxiously waited for my better three-quarter (far from half) to sell her house and ride the dream we forged. The dream includes the Pacific Ocean... a Peninsula and a dash of bliss...hold the relish.

   I'm living in the valley with my J-girl, (name is changed to protect the innocent) helping her sell her house. 50 miles away from my home of 40 yrs., Anchorage. Yes,... I'm residing in 'that' valley. The Sarah Palin claim to fame valley...though no one claims her here. It's beautiful, surrounded by Mt. ranges and lakes and it taste of retreat living for me but....not.

  Odd that I'm not obligated to the clock much anymore. Early mornings, late afternoons...coming home tired. No more. I feel my wings coming back to me...those wings that I clipped shut since leaving the Army, those wings that help lift me into adventure. I'm almost ashamed that I sacrificed them for main stream swimming.

  As I was going to the gym this morning I was surrounded by traffic that had a purpose. Folks commuting to work.. paying the bills. Just for a second I felt empty... Like my car violated the space it was in. I had a work ethic but no work. So I started a song...singing out loud like I did when my son was with me... making up lyrics. "You guys are going to work today...not me, not me".
Not an i-tunes hit.... but it was 'i' tunes for me.

  So,...here I am. Blogging cause I want to share and record adventures ahead of me and interpret the adventures I had. I like to thank my big brother ...who inspired me to create this one. His link is here...http://brucewehrle.blogspot.com/2016/02/senior-gym-rat.html

...and of course J-girl, for without her my wings would be useless.