The Still

There will be towering highs
And plunging lows

Equilibrium sought
Balancing on toes

Obvious answers to questions
Quite a few I dont knows

Investments in each other
Trust bought and sold

Stilts on a tightrope
Heated talk turns cold

Life after the rings
I do still believed and told

Always all in
Worth the risk to never fold


The Show Me State

The road of good intentions is riddled with alleys and byways that lead to distractions.

I’m a show me dont tell me kind of person.

I’m also a pessimist.

My wife told me last friday she was going to start drinking alcohol again.

She showed me.

For the last week she has drank progressively more each day and started earlier each day.

Last night as I was 3/4 asleep she told me-

“I’m going to finish this bottle of wine and then I’m done drinking”

Show me….dont tell me.

Why the sudden change?

Not sure.

Could be the aid of friends talking with her about it…

Could be she probably wont have a job after today…

Could be the fact that I got angry with her.

Why did I get angry?

Thursdays we have the opportunity to spend a few hours with our grandkids.

My son drives into town, picks them up and brings them over.

When I got home from work, I asked if they were coming over.

She said slurringly that they were on the way.

She was drunk.

I told her to go to the bedroom and lock the door. I didnt want the grandkids to see her like that.

I then called my son. He declined to bring them to the house.

I’m proud of him.

My wife said she didn’t plan on getting drunk…..

She showed me that 2 1/2 bottles of wine between 1 and 5 will in fact ensure that she was drunk.

She also showed me that getting drunk was more important than spending time with her son and grandkids.

Show me dont tell me that I’m 2rong in my assessment.

We will see what happens.

The Brewing

After 18 years of continuous sobriety my wife started drinking again.

Not being able to adopt the baby was the final straw in a haystack built over a lifetime of trauma that sealed the deal.

18 years.

We have been married for over 13.

Simple math.

I had never seen her drink alcohol.

Now I have.

To say that there will be a rough road ahead is an understatement.

But, I said “I do” to ALL of the cliche vows that go with being married and I’m sticking to them.

We met in sobriety. I didn’t marry her because of it.

I love her and will do whatever it takes to help her.

Except, drink with her.

The storm is brewing, another change on the horizon.

Damn, this life.

The Pirouette

Sometimes I wonder….

Can I have a normal conversation without inserting slight tidbits of sarcasm and why would you say that type things?

The answer is…


Here is a snipit of a back n forth between my younger than me wife and I from last night…while we had guests over-

Her- tomorrow a few of the girls are coming over.

Me- why?

Her- I’m going help 1 study, guide 2 through some step work, and 3 will be here because she is new to sobriety. I will be pirouetting between the 3.

Me- you’ll be what?

Her- pirouetting….its a ballet move like this..

Disclaimer-not my wife pirouetting…


Her- you do?

Me- yes…once when I was I teen I went to see “the nutcracker”. I thought it was going to be porn….I was sorely mistaken…

The Forecast

Every other weekend a hurricane devours my sanity.

Every other other weekend and weekday it’s just a constant monsoon that eats away at it slowly.

This is the hurricane weekend.

From Friday until late Sunday our small 3 bedroom home is at over full capacity.

During the monsoons the occupancy is as follows-

My younger than me wife
My 22 year old daughter
Her 1 year old daughter
Black dog
White dog
Spotted dog 1
Spotted dog 2


This is hurricane weekend…..

The occupancy is as follows-

My younger than me wife
My 22 year old daughter
Her 1 year old daughter
My 25 year old son
The brothers of destruction (my sons 3 boys)
         >4 year old Cody the Destroyer
         >2 year old B Rich
         >4 year old 1/2 brother AJ the Brawler
Black dog
White dog
Spotted dog 1
Spotted dog 2
Orange dog

I have been up since 5 am. It is about 7.

I have been up with black dog and spotted dog 1 preparing for the first signs of the oncoming Sunday version of the hurricane.

The wind is starting to pick up and the first droplets of hard rain are beginning to fall.

My son just took orange dog outside to do his business and has now left to buy donuts to help ensure the hurricane lasts longer and starts earlier.

The brothers of destruction are getting sugar.

I’m taking this head on.

Sanity or no sanity its coming.

The Diary of A Madman

As I walked in the door from anther 10 hours in the over 100 degree heat, my wife greeted me with a conversation-

Would you like to go get a journal to track your progress with your journey into Buddhism and meditation?

I replied with an eye roll…

A journal? Is that a nice way of saying diary? I’m a 52 year-old male…..not a 10 year-old girl….

I continued as she looked at me blankly and batted her eyes…

Why would I need to keep a diary I blog all my stuff. What I don’t blog I keep stored n logged up in my brain. It’s the perfect system….it’s what I have it for…no I don’t need a diary…I keep it all right up here…

I said as I tapped my temple.

I finished and went back to the bedroom to change out of my sweaty work clothes and thought to myself-

Sheesh women and their diaries….

So anyway,

I got a journal and a nice pen……

The Transition of Mr. Wilkes

David Wilkes started his Saturday the same way he always did. He got up out of bed at 6:45 am, went to the bathroom and then headed to the kitchen to brew some fresh joe. While the coffee was perking, he checked in on the kids and returned to his bedroom to put on his jogging clothes. He awoke his wife, to tell her he would be back after his run. Same routine, every Saturday.

He stretched his legs for a few minutes, took in a few deep breathes to clear out the lungs, then opened up the app on his smartphone which tracked his distance and time.

As he reached for the handle on the front door, he felt a sharp pain on his left temple. His vision was emblazoned with a piercing white flash and he went down in a heap.

“It’s a strange feeling looking down at your own body as it lies on the floor beneath me.” He thought as his spirit rose up above him and through the ceiling into the open air.

He drifted up into the blankness before stopping into a sea of white.

He looked around and saw a figure walking toward him.

He couldn’t quite comprehend what he saw. In his bewilderment, he made a single statement….or question, if you will.

“Dad?….Is that you?”

Mrs. Wilkes jumped out of bed when she heard the crash from the other room. She grabbed her robe and put it on as she rushed out to see what had happened. A feeling in her gut feared the worst.

As she rounded the island in the kitchen and headed for the front foyer and entryway to their home she glimpsed the end table turned over by the front door. As she rushed in closer, she found her husband on the floor with a small gash on his forehead, convulsing as if he were having a seizure.

“OH MY GOD! HONEY! HONEY!” She screamed.

Their children, who were awakened by clamor, came out of their rooms scared. The mother yelled at the oldest, who was 12.


Mrs. Wilkes, returned her attention to her husband, who she desperately held in her arms and spoke into his ear,

“Don’t you leave me…you hear me…don’t you dare. HOLD ON!!”

As she repeated those phrases over and over as she rocked him back and forth, she began to hear sirens in the distance, and the smell of fresh coffee.

“I come to you as whatever you desire me to be. You have never gotten over your Father’s passing….to comfort you in these strange surroundings, you see me as you wish to see me.”

“So this is what happens when in death. Hmph. Where’s the pearly gates…or the lakes of fire for that matter?” David asked.

“You…..are not dead…..yet. You are in transition. Here is where your ultimate choice is made.” The being stated.

“Choice? What choice?”

“The choice to grant the wish that you have wished, or, to return to fight for balance.”

“I wish for a lot of things….it’s just talk..”

“So you, as many others have before you and many others will after you, have stated….just talk. Well, we listen and we give the opportunity to grant those wishes, but only one time and only the gravest of wishes. Your wish…time and time again, has been to be taken away from all the stresses of your life. The stresses that you have created by not choosing. You want it all. Sorry. It can’t be. Now you must choose.”

“Wait…wait…wait. I don’t get it.”

“Of course, you don’t. Your kind rarely does. Let me put it plainly. You have a wife and 2 kids….and you have a mistress on the side. You cheat your business to support both. You refuse to choose. Here….in transition, you must choose. You either choose to go back and face your misleadings, thereby, creating personal balance or stay here…die and let them figure it out. Either way, you lose…..but because you make a choice, your soul can be cleansed and life will go on, or…….you take the easy way out and find out what you transition into after death.”

“How much time do I have to choose?”

“Your time left is based upon the amount of time you leave your body unattended. It varies….the longer you stay here the more chance you have of your choice being made for you…..Time is of the essence. CHOOSE!”

The paramedics arrive and immediately check Mr. Wilkes vitals.
He has a weak pulse and his heartbeat is slowing by the second.

“Mrs. Wilkes…we must get him to the hospital as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence!”

They get him onto a gurney and rush him into the ambulance. Just before they shut the doors, Mrs. Wilkes hears a dangerous cry from one of the medics…


As the ambulance is about to speed off she hears one final cry…


Mrs. Wilkes heads back into the house to get the kids to go to the hospital, just in time to miss the slow driving BMW that speeds up to follow the ambulance.

The mistress pulls up the sleeve on her silk robe and checks the time.

7:09 am

He is never late. Always arrives promptly at 7 with that sexy sweat dripping off his brow. His little jog was his warm up for the real workout that she provides.

“Maybe he has finally decided to stop coming…..nah…he has been mine for over 9 years…his getaway from “family”….” She thinks to herself.

She feels a strange knot in her gut that makes her think that something has happened.

“Maybe I should drive by his house…just to be sure he is ok.”

She changes into tight jeans and t shirt and grabs the keys to the Beemer, that Wilkes bought for her, and heads toward his home.

“What of you mean, either way I lose? If I choose to stay.. I don’t have to face either woman or the company…that sounds like a win to me. If I go back….I must confess my sins, to all, to create…..balance? That doesn’t sound like balance to me…it sounds like death either way.”

“So…your choice has been….”
David quickly cut him off.

“Whoa..whoa..I didn’t say that. I love my wife…and my kids. I just got caught up in a little side deal that marred my judgement for a while……I CHOOSE TO GO BACK!”

“Very well. You have chosen. Your time here is essentially….up.”

The vision of his father turned and walked out into the blankness. As he disappeared, David Wilkes began to ascend back down to reality. During that journey he thought to himself,

“I don’t know who that was…but me coming clean is about as likely the Pope going to strip club.”

The ambulance arrives at the ER and David Wilkes is wheeled in. A black BMW screeches into the parking lot. Followed shortly after by a Volvo station wagon.

The woman in tight jeans and Mrs, Wilkes with her 2 kids in tow, both rush into the waiting room and up to reception desk at essentially the same time.

They both say in unison.

The women look at each other, up and down, with quizzical looks.

The receptionist replies,

“Well…isn’t this special. Mr. Wilkes is in ICU. Just follow the signs….”

David drifts back down to where is body is located. He noticed his body laying limp on a hospital bed with multiple machines and tubes hooked up to him. He travels all the way down and back into his life and tries to open his eyes.

The Doctor is hovering over Mr. Wilkes monitoring the machines and his slow progress. He watches as David opens his eyes slowly. The Doctor plus out his mini light and flashes it into his pupils and back and forth between each eye. The pupils show no reaction.

There is a knock on the window. The Doctor looks back at it and notices 2 women anxiously standing there.

He walks out to greet them.

“Hello, ladies. I am going to assume that only 1 of you is the spouse of the man inside. It is that woman that I will speak to.”

Mrs. Wilkes speaks up first.

“I’m his wife and have been for 12 years. I don’t know who this bitch is.”

The mistress chimes in.

“I’m the bitch that has made him happy for 9 years and I’m the one he was about to leave you for.”

“Ladies… Neither I nor the man in that room has time for this. Mrs. Wilkes…you may go in with him and I will brief you on how he is. Ma’am, you may wait here or in the waiting room. Mrs. Wilkes will decide if you need to know anything.”

They enter the room in ICU and leave the mistress by herself.

The Doctor begins to fill her in on her husbands prognosis.

“Mrs. Wilkes, it doesn’t look good. His brain went without oxygen for a significant amount of time. I believe he can hear and see and understand what is going on around him but he won’t be able to respond. Maybe in time, this will change. I can’t be sure without more tests.”

“But..his eyes are open….” She hesitantly said.

“Yes, ma’am. They opened just a few moments ago….although that sounds positive… I believe that it was a nerve reaction that may happen from time to time. If you will notice they show no reaction to the light.”

He flashed his light again in front of his eyes. Nothing.

“Once he gets moved to his own room, you will be able to spend more time with him. For now, I will have ask you to give me some time to run some more tests.” He stated and then paused to look out the window and the mistress who still stood there and then continued…

“It seems you may have other things to deal with besides this. Your husband will be treated to the finest care, during this transitional period of his recovery. Please, time is of the essence at this stage. I will keep you fully informed of his progress.”

Mrs. Wilkes thanked him and ventured out of the room to deal with the other woman.

David Wilkes just stared up at the ceiling. He could do nothing else. He listened to his wife and the Doctor conversing. He knew his Mistress was there as well and immediately began to devise a plan that he would put into motion as soon as he was able to move and speak.

He heard the Doctor ask his wife to leave. He heard her walk out and heard the door slide shut.

He then heard the Doctor clear his throat and walk back over to the bed.

The Doctor leaned over and looked into David’s eyes.

David continued to stare up and saw as the Doctor came into his sight line.

The Doctor looked like his father.

David wanted to scream….but couldn’t. He could only stare and listen to what the Doctor had to say….

“My dear Mr. Wilkes….you may cheat your business…you may cheat your wife…..but when you try to cheat death…..there are consequences.”

A throwback story from the blog of good2begone

The Breathe Right

When you own your breath, nobody can steal your peace.”

~Author Unknown

Good thing the author of that quote is unknown….if I knew him/her, I would find them and slap them upside the head with my good arm.

Here’s why-

Sleep for me has been hard to come by. My recent surgery has made it difficult to get comfortable.

I toss,

I turn,


I Repeat……


From about 8 am this morning until 11:24 I had found “the sweet spot”.

At 11:24 and approximately 3 seconds, I began to feel a poking and light prodding at several areas of my back.

As I began to wonder what was going on, I hear the slightly perturbed yet lovely voice of my wife ask….perturbedly-

“Hey…are you even breathing?”

I raise my head from my apparent dead sleep and reply-


She kisses me on the forehead and says,

“Yup you are….carry on. See you after work.”

And skips out of the room.

Breath owned…..

Peace still stolen.

Stupid author of the unknown quote on breathing.

Shut up annoying giggly, yet cute, Asian looking adolescent meme….I’m trying to get back to sleep.

The Watchers

When the wife is away…..the recover…er will try to get away with what he is not supposed to.

Day 1 into my at home recovery from surgery. My wife has gone back to work and has left me with strict instructions to not over do it and just relax.

My stepdaughter has been left in charge and has enough contact numbers to make a mathematician dizzy.

In my favor…she doesn’t typically wake up until noon. She is a teenager on summer break which means up until the wee hours doing nothing.

I am an early bird. I don’t like worms, but I am not good at doing nothing.

I got up and got to stepping.

First off a shave, which means face and head. In attempt to not over use my injured right arm, I completed the task left handed. Tedious but effective.

Next, shower and clean up. I have had 2 showers in the last 6 days.



As I grabbed a towel. I happened to notice it was the last one….which meant I DESPERATELY had to do laundry.

I rounded up dirty towels and started the washing machine.

After brushing my teeth, I heard a knock at the door.


My wife, being much more sneaky than I realized, asked a friend to come by to check on me under the disguise of giving me new age medical treatment.

The treatment- LASER TREATMENT

Which is the use of a cold laser to reduce inflammation, pain and increase healing time.

I have inflammation. Here is an adequate picture representation of what my two arms look like side by side-

I yam what I yam….and that’s all that I am“-Popeye

I let her in and she asks-

“Umm…are you doing laundry? I thought I heard the machine running as I walked up?”

My reply-

“No no no. I’m not supposed to be doing anything. There must be a storm coming.”


“The sky is clear. No clouds anywhere.”

Me with a smile-

“It’s a distant storm.”



She takes out her light saber and goes to work as I sit calmly on the sofa. She then asks-

“Didn’t you have more hair when I was here yesterday? Don’t tell me you shaved your head as well as doing laundry..”


“No no no…I just hadn’t showered in a few days because of the strain it would put on my recovery. The nurses wanted to focus on my arm instead of my cleanliness. I took a sponge bath with water from the sink…using my left hand only. Less grime means happier me!”



Her Jedi mind tricks wouldn’t work on me. I knew what “hmmmm” meant.

It meant I was in trouble with the wife.

I’m smart though.

I’ll just blame it on my stepdaughter who was “supposed” to be watching me.

The Love of My Life

“What do you want for Christmas?”
She asks with anticipation
“I will buy you what you want,
Search all of creation.”

I don’t need to ponder, think
Or make her wait.
The answer to her request is simple
And easy to state.

“Of all the things around,
That can be bought, bartered or found,
I cannot accept the ones
With price tags
Or that come from packages
That are bound.”

“You’ve given me your heart,
Body and soul,
A life that is diamonds
Where before you, it was coal.”

“You’ve given me the things
I never thought I would receive
Love, home, family
And a chance to believe.”

“If given every star in the sky
Or a dollar for each grain of sand,
It wouldn’t come close to the value
Of you taking my hand”


“What do I want for Christmas?
I will give you the answer, not just a clue.
Of everything I will ever need…
All I want for Christmas is you.”

Merry Christmas, Baby.