A Lifetime of Adventure, Comes With a Receipt

When it comes to life, I didn’t exactly play it smart. I didn’t save money. I didn’t pick a trade or rack up a skill set that would neatly line me up for a six-figure future. I kind of half-assed my way through it…. traveling, seeing the world, chasing experiences, and saying yes to life more than I said yes to responsibility.

There were plenty of highs and lows, and eventually, reality knocked. Hard. I had to hunker down and get serious. Later than most. With no formal education and no specialized skill, I landed a job I was qualified for simply because a city took a chance on me. It paid decently for the area, came with good benefits, and even had a retirement.

And guess what? I didn’t exactly crush that either.

Years later, I walked away. Instead of finding another “real job,” I did what I’d always done best, I left town, traveled, and lived without much care for tomorrow. Eventually, I convinced my family to buy a restaurant. I cashed out every dollar of my Ohio Deferred Comp to wipe out my debt. Then I poured my pension into getting that restaurant off the ground.

So here I am again. No trade. No degree. No formal skill. Just a bar and restaurant that does well enough to keep the lights on and the community happy.

The hard truth? I never set myself up for future success. Now I’m 53, married, trying to provide for my family, trying to buy or build a forever home. And it turns out, to afford a house today, you needed to start saving about 40 years ago.

There’s no usable property available. All we need is an acre or two. That’s it. And yet it feels completely out of reach. Really though, building is really out of reach! I don’t understand how others do it, especially when I look at salaries and realize I didn’t choose the “right” path. Hindsight, right? Maybe I should’ve gone into the medical field, everyone there seems to have what they need.

I’m tired and defeated. I’ve accepted that buying or building a house will never happen for us. I hate the house we’re in, it’s too small, we’ve outgrown it, and it doesn’t allow for the life we want to share with friends and family.

Maybe this is the price I pay for a wild, beautiful, irresponsible youth. Or maybe it’s just life being life.

So here’s my advice to anyone young and hungry for adventure: go explore. Live. See the world. But for the love of your future self, get an education, learn a trade, build a skill, invest something, save something. Set yourself up.

It’s too late for me.

But maybe my failures can still be useful to someone else.

What Sparks My Admiration

What is something others do that sparks your admiration?

There are a few things people do that hit me right in the soft part of my heart…. the part I pretend I don’t have, but we all know is there.

1. Family-Oriented People

Whenever I see those families out at dinner, laughing, talking, kids half-behaving and half-wild, I can’t help but stop and watch for a moment. There’s something about that tight-knit family energy that sparks admiration in me. Maybe a little jealousy, sure, but mostly admiration.

It’s that classic, picture-perfect “white picket fence” vibe, not because it’s perfect, but because it’s together. And even if I’ll never have that exact version in my own life, I love seeing people who do. There’s beauty in the simplicity of showing up for each other.

2. Humble, Successful People

Then there are the quiet giants… the ones who’ve built something, achieved something, earned something… and still treat everyone with kindness. The “treat the janitor the same as the CEO” kind of people.

Those people have my full attention. They’re the kind of people who remind me the world doesn’t need more loud victories, it needs more quiet dignity. I try to model myself after them, and honestly? I treat people with respect pretty damn well. Sometimes better than I treat myself.

3. Focused and Disciplined People

And finally… the focused ones. The disciplined ones. The people who hold their goals like a compass and somehow balance work, family, life, stress, and dreams without dropping everything on the floor.

Watching someone stay committed, whether it’s to their career, their family, or their own personal growth is inspiring. It reminds me that staying locked in is a daily choice, not a personality trait.

When Silence Costs Lives: Why We Need to Talk About Suicide

Mental health has always been close to my heart, and not in the Hallmark-movie way, but in the “this is life-or-death, and we keep pretending it’s not” kind of way.

And honestly? The lack of conversation around suicide breaks me a little every time.

Just today, I came across a story out of Texas.

A young woman, a student at Texas A&M, died by suicide.

Her police reports say she’d mentioned it to friends — several times — over the past few months.

And that’s the part that sticks with me.

Because sometimes, all it takes is one person to act.

One person to believe them.

One person to step in, even if it’s uncomfortable.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d still be here.

But here’s the truth we don’t like to say out loud:

A lot of people get scared.

Or they shrug it off.

Or they think “eh, they’re just being dramatic.”

Or they freeze because they don’t want to overstep or be wrong. Trust me, I’d rather be wrong than have you gone!

Meanwhile, someone out there is praying that somebody will finally take them seriously.

Suicide is complicated. It’s heavy. And yes….. there are times when someone is so determined that prevention becomes incredibly hard. But when the signs are there, when the words are spoken, when the cues are loud… that’s when one determined friend, one stubborn family member, one “I’m not letting you do this alone” human being can make the difference.

Every single community has resources.

Every one.

You don’t have to be a therapist.

You don’t have to have all the answers.

You just have to do something.

Call or text 988.

They will guide you.

They will support you.

They will tell you exactly what to say and what steps to take.

And if you’re wondering what you’d want someone to do for you if you were the one in crisis?

There’s your answer.

I’ve helped people before. More than once.

And I know this about myself: if I ever hit a point where I need help, I hope someone steps in for me too. No hesitation. No silence.

Too many lives are being cut short because people brushed off the signs.

Too many people are walking around hurting while the world pretends not to notice.

But we can change that, community by community, conversation by conversation.

If you need resources, here are some that save lives every damn day:

http://988lifeline.org

http://TheYellowElephant.org

http://QPRInstitute.com

Local Law Enforcement

Let’s stop treating “suicide talk” like a taboo.

Let’s kill the stigma, not the conversation.

Let’s be the person who steps up instead of stepping back.

Because you never know… today might be the day you save a life.

Meat Eater, No More

What are your feelings about eating meat?

My feelings on eating meat… well, they’re complicated.

I spent most of my life worshipping at the altar of burgers, steaks, ribs, and pork chops. I was basically a walking carnivore with a pulse. So yeah, my baseline feelings about meat are historically fantastic.

But then life threw me a plot twist: chronic kidney disease.

Now red meat is basically like that ex, looks great, smells great, but absolutely terrible for you. My kidneys don’t process red meat or protein well anymore, so my once-pure love for meat has turned into something messier. Think jealousy, temptation, and a splash of rage every time I see a big, beautiful steak I can’t have.

These days, I stick to chicken and I should be eating more white fish… but let’s be honest, a flaky cod fillet just doesn’t hit the same as a burger dripping down your chin. So my relationship with meat is no longer “true love.” It’s more like, “we had a good run, but now I stalk you from across the menu.”

Dining out used to be exciting.

Now it’s a minefield of reminders that my diet is about as thrilling as elevator music. Skipping the steak and burger section feels like losing a little piece of my former self each time.

So yeah, my feelings on meat?

Bittersweet, frustrated, and full of longing.

Like watching everyone else eat the thing you still love, while you sit there pretending chicken is fulfilling.

The Untraditional Thanksgiving: No Friendsgiving, Just Life.

It’s late November.

The leaves are falling, the weather’s changing, and the world is collectively preparing for the great American tradition: Thanksgiving. A time to gather, feast, laugh, make memories… and, supposedly, be thankful.

Growing up, Thanksgiving was one of my favorite holidays. Mostly because of the food. Let’s not pretend otherwise. Pile your plate high, eat yourself into a food coma, wake up, repeat. It was glorious.

But I don’t eat like that anymore. My body and my health won’t let me. So the whole “fat pants and second helpings” era? Yeah… that chapter’s closed. I even tried making a list of things I’m thankful for this year, and honestly? My mind didn’t go where it used to. Instead of gratitude, it was more… unhappiness, confusion, fatigue. Not exactly the holiday spirit the Hallmark channel shows.

And then there’s this whole Friendsgiving thing people rave about. I watched Friends, just like everyone who pays too much for TV still does. And sure, Friendsgiving looks fun on screen… the laughter, the chaos, the drinking, the inside jokes. But for me? It’s more a concept than reality.

I’ve never had that big, tight-knit friend group to pile around a table with. Go back to 2007 when Friendsgiving culture started booming. I was working for the local police department. Guys gathered all the time. Sometimes I showed up, sometimes I didn’t. But even when I was there, I never really felt like I fit in. They were colleagues, not friends you confide in. Not the people who know the weird corners of your brain.

These days, my circle is small: my wife, my stepson, my son (part-time) and my dog. These ones never let me down. They’re my constants, my reliable laughs in a world that feels too loud and too fast.

My family will gather for Thanksgiving, the loud, crowded, traditional version. But that’s not Friendsgiving. That’s just what families do. And as I get older, the noise and chaos get a little less charming.

So I’ll cook for three.

One will eat in his room.

One will grab a corner of a storage table.

And I’ll sit with Coda, pretending he’s listening while he’s really just plotting how to sneak whatever’s on the counter.

If I’m being honest, the one thing I’m holding onto this year is the hope for good weather. Because if the morning’s clear, I can jump on my bike and get lost in the woods for a while.

And lately? That’s the only place I’ve felt truly happy. Just me, the trail, the trees, and the peace that comes with pedaling away the noise of everything else.

The Types of “I Don’t Know” People

You’re not imagining things, there are categories. Like Pokémon, but more useless.

1. The Actual Liar

Knows the answer. Knows YOU know they know the answer. Still lies.

Because… drumroll… accountability feels like CrossFit to them. They would rather juggle chainsaws than say, “Yep, that was on me.”

2. The “OMG, WHAT HAPPENED??” Pretender

This one gives you the full wide-eyed innocent Bambi routine.

They treat basic instructions like you handed them the Dead Sea Scrolls in Aramaic.

You say something on Monday.

By Wednesday they’re like,

“Wait… you NEVER told me that.”

Oh honey… yes… yes I did. But your brain just said, “Nah, let’s not.”

3. The Excuse Generator 5000

These folks will excavate excuses from geological layers you didn’t know existed.

Instead of “I messed up,” you get:

“Well, I didn’t have the right pen.” “My horoscope said today wasn’t good for listening.” “The oven was humming in a weird way and it distracted me.”

Sir… ma’am… be for real.

“Are people really this dumb?”

Sometimes? Yes.

But most of the time?

No, they’re just emotional toddlers wrapped in adult skin suits. (it puts the lotion in the basket)

Here’s the playbook they’re running on:

Avoid responsibility – Avoid conflict – Avoid looking wrong – Protect ego – Pretend confusion so nobody can actually blame them

It’s like weaponized cluelessness.

And it’s exhausting.

Why It’s Everywhere

Because society has turned “being accountable” into “being attacked.”

People are WAY too fragile now. Like, dropped from a six inch curb fragile.

And in the workplace?

Forget it.

Half the population thinks admitting a mistake will open a trap door that drops them straight into unemployment hell. See I just lied… employees know you can’t fire them, we’re all too short handed for that shit!

So instead, they live in this delusional fantasy land where pretending not to know something magically erases the fact they absolutely knew it.

Your Reaction? Honestly? Necessary.

Confrontation isn’t rude.

Confrontation is clarity.

You’re not shaming people, you’re holding them to the standard of “Hey buddy… join the rest of us on Earth.”

Most people don’t confront because they:

Want to avoid drama – Want to be liked – Don’t want to escalate

But then the problem festers like that one dish in the sink nobody wants to clean.

You? You’re doing the Lord’s work.

Or whatever deity is in charge of common sense… probably some frazzled goddess covered in post-it notes. For me, we’d all turn into a pile of dust if waiting for a sign from above!

So what’s going on?

A combo of….. Fear of being wrong – Fear of responsibility – Bad habits – Low awareness – Ego issues – Social politeness culture, and yes… a dash of actual stupidity sprinkled in like everything but the bagel seasoning

You’re not crazy.

You’re observant.

And honestly? The world could use more people who call out the BS instead of letting it grow legs and breed.

When Everybody’s Here But Nobody’s All In

Today, if employees show up for a shift, owners call it a win. But winning the attendance lottery isn’t the same as having a crew that actually works.

Restaurants are short-handed everywhere, and that used to mean one thing: more money for the people who showed up ready to hustle. Now? “Short-handed” too often equals “one-dimensional” employees.

Example: no dishwasher tonight. A line cook jumps in to wash dishes, great… except now they’re unavailable to run the line. The kitchen stops being a machine and becomes a series of improvisations. ONE DIMENSIONAL.

If everyone understood teamwork, really understood “get-shit-done” and helped each other, the kitchen would hum. But I’ve watched us try to teach teamwork for more than a decade. I’m past “train more.” We’ve trained. We’ve written memos. We’ve spoken one-on-one. We’ve followed up. Some of these folks have been here 11 years and came from corporate gigs where micromanaging was normal operation. This is not ignorance.

So what is it? Defiance? Laziness? A refusal to care? I don’t know. What I do know is this: I can control me. I can control expectations and consequences. I can’t control someone else’s choices … but I can decide whether those choices keep a job.

This business will survive. We’ll be short for a season, we’ll hire, and we’ll rebuild standards. But there has to be accountability. We need to implement a demerit system: three documented failures to perform essential tasks and you’re out. No drama, no opinion, just standards, enforced.

If you care about your job, show it. Restock the line. Put the next shift in a better position than you found it. Teamwork isn’t a warm, fuzzy idea, it’s the difference between a smooth service and chaos at 7 p.m.

We can keep doing the same thing and expect different results. I’m not that hopeful, or insane. I’m that done. Time for consequences.

Does My Vote Count, or Is This All Just Political Theater

I still vote, because it’s my right… or, depending on who you ask, my “duty.”

But sometimes I sit there, staring at that ballot like: Does any of this actually matter? Or am I just checking boxes on a form no one even plans to read?

When I was younger, just a teenage kid in West Virginia, waiting to hit that golden age of 18, I actually cared. I watched politics, listened to the parties, and tried to figure out who I was supposed to be.

I was an avid hunter, a gun owner, a mountain kid surrounded by people who all leaned one direction. So into the Republican Party I went…. like a good little 2A-supporting soldier following the path everyone around me took.

But then I got older. Worked Union jobs. Met real people on real paychecks with real problems. And that’s when it hit me:

It doesn’t matter what party you pick, someone always thinks they own your vote.

And what the Union wants isn’t always what benefits the worker standing there with a wrench in his hand and a mortgage screaming at him.

Fast-forward a couple decades and here we are…

I look at the landscape now and politics feels like the last thing I’d ever want to invest faith in. Honestly? The whole thing is abysmal.

There was a time when news meant news.

Reporters were trusted.

Facts were, you know… facts.

Now?

The news reads like a weapon. A megaphone for whichever side is paying the bills that week. Misinformation, division, chaos, it’s all part of the game.

Meanwhile politicians are getting richer than professional athletes.

They’re cashing astronomical salaries, enjoying free health care, making “lucky” stock decisions with insider intel, and rolling around with security details and zero everyday expenses. No car payments. No insurance stress. No “dang, my property taxes went up again.”

They live in a world we can’t even afford to visit.

And the wild part?

It doesn’t matter what letter they slap next to their name…. R, D, whatever, they all end up playing the same game.

Their priority is themselves.

Their power.

Their benefits.

Their re-election.

The voters?

We’re background noise.

The ballots?

Just props.

Our concerns?

Not even on their radar unless it polls well.

So more and more, I find myself drifting toward the Libertarian side of the map. Not because it’s flashy or popular, everyone knows the two major parties will tackle each other in the mud before they ever let a third party get momentum…. but because the philosophy actually clicks with how real people live.

Less government in our personal lives?

Sign me up.

The government should not be micromanaging:

Our children’s education – Our health care choices – Women’s decisions about their own bodies

These are human issues, family issues, personal issues…. NOT political chess pieces.

But here’s the kicker:

There aren’t enough of us pulling in that direction to shift the country yet. And the big two…. Democrats and Republicans, may fight like siblings in public, but they’ll absolutely form a united front to keep any other party from gaining real influence or power!

So what do we need?

Change. Common sense. Accountability. Honesty.

And if we can’t have any of that?

Then at the very least…

We need the government to get out of the way and leave us alone.

Where I’d Live in a Perfect World

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

If I Could Live Anywhere in the World…

Every now and then I catch myself daydreaming about that perfect place to call home, the spot where the air feels lighter, the mornings hit different, and life just… slows down enough for you to breathe again.

For me, the most realistic version of that dream is tucked away in the mountains of Asheville, North Carolina, high up near the Pisgah National Forest.

There’s something about that region that hits a part of my soul I didn’t realize needed attention. The endless trails, the rolling blue ridges, the morning mist that floats above the treetops…. it all creates this quiet, rugged kind of peace. Life feels simpler up there, grounded. It’s the type of place where you can drink your coffee on a porch, listen to nothing but the wind and the birds, and actually feel your shoulders drop for the first time in a lifetime.

It’s adventure and solitude wrapped into one.

A place where I could work, play, think, and recharge, without the noise of the world knocking on my door.

But then there’s the other version of the dream… the one that lives a little deeper in my imagination.

If realism didn’t matter and life handed me the freedom to choose anywhere, I’d be looking straight at the rolling hills of Montepulciano, Italy. There’s a magic there: the vineyards cascading down the landscape, old stone walls that have seen centuries pass, sunsets that paint everything gold. It’s the type of place where the days stretch long, meals turn into memories, and the pace of life slows down to something intentional.

It’s the fantasy version of home, the kind that tugs at your heart even if you’ve never lived there.

So if I could live anywhere?

My feet would probably be on a cabin porch outside Asheville…

but my heart would be wandering the Tuscan hills.

Positivity Posts and the Reality of Running a Business

Every morning starts the same: I grab my coffee, scroll through social media, and like clockwork, LinkedIn hits me with a wall of motivational posts. You know the ones: “Hire people you can learn from!” or “Don’t micromanage, trust your team!”

At first, it feels inspiring. Those bright graphics, powerful quotes, and feel-good fliers promise a world where leadership is effortless and teams run like well-oiled machines. But then I pause and ask myself…. what does it really mean?

Because here’s the truth: you can post all the “how to be the best leader” quotes you want, but how does a business grow when no one’s applying for the jobs? And worse, what do you do when the people you do have need constant hand-holding just to keep things on track?

I’ve tried it all. I’ve trusted. I’ve encouraged creativity. I’ve stepped back to let people shine. And more times than not, it’s backfired. The meltdowns, the costly mistakes, the inability to handle adversity alone… they’ve all landed squarely on my desk.

I think back to when I lived down south, scrambling for a place to stay after my roommates left post-hurricane. A boss took me in… let me stay in her garage apartment just so I could keep working. I showed up every day, hungry to learn. Then there was the boss who taught me everything I know about restaurants and bars. He didn’t see a lost, rebellious kid, he saw potential. And he bet on me.

That’s the kind of leadership I remember. The kind that invests in people, not just platitudes. This is the kind of leader I want to be.

So, when is enough enough with all the motivational fluff?

Where are the real posts, the ones that admit no one’s applying, that training feels like Groundhog Day, and that micromanaging isn’t about control, it’s about survival?