Happy 2026.

I’ve never really been a “New Year’s resolutions” guy. I don’t love arbitrary deadlines or fake fresh starts wrapped in champagne and wishful thinking.

But this year feels different.

This year, I’m choosing to make healthier choices, not as a resolution, but as an act of survival. I want a life where my family and my friends still get me. Present. Functional. Here.

I took my chronic kidney disease seriously for almost a year. And then… I didn’t.

I got busy. I got lazy. I slipped back into old habits. Heavy habits. Unhealthy habits. The kind that quietly convince you that “later” is guaranteed.

It isn’t.

There are other layers too. The gym and jiu-jitsu, two things that keep me grounded, have been on hold thanks to neck and back injuries. No insurance means no easy fixes. Surgery without coverage feels like signing over a second mortgage, and that’s just not an option.

Mobility is everything to me. It’s tied directly to my mental health, my physical health, and honestly, my will to keep pushing forward.

As of today, January 1st, I am one day sober.

And that feels like a damn good place to start. Yeah, we’ve been here before… the addicts motto, right?

My kidney disease demands a better lifestyle, and that begins with cutting alcohol out of the equation completely. Next comes clean eating and fasting, something I know works for me. I used to do 20-hour fasts daily, with a 40-hour fast once a month. That routine brought me closer to my ideal weight and, more importantly, a clearer head and a happier place mentally.

The struggle will be real.

I work in a place where I’m surrounded by food….. food that absolutely does not appear on my nephrologist’s diet plan. Add to that the nonstop parade of sweets people generously bring in to share… and yeah, my discipline hasn’t always been stellar.

But I’ll do better.

Home has its own challenges. My family isn’t on a restrictive lifestyle diet, and they shouldn’t be. That’s on me, not them. I’ll eat when I need to eat, make better choices for myself, and stay out of the way of the foods my wife and kids enjoy.

One day at a time. That’s the goal.

Over the past few days, I’ve read and heard about several people passing away…. all my age. All seemingly living healthier lives than I have lately. It’s a reminder we never really know how much time we’re given. I can’t control the clock, but I can stop sprinting toward the finish line.

This isn’t a resolution. It’s a revelation.

Change is necessary. I know it. The people around me know it. But this is my responsibility, and I don’t expect anyone else to carry it for me.

Just know this, having water, coffee, or oatmeal doesn’t mean I can’t still laugh with you while you’re having a steak and a couple IPAs or bourbons.

Cheers to a new year.

And cheers to the uphill battle of resisting bad food, bad habits, and the lie that “I’ll start tomorrow.”

Tomorrow is today.

What Is Depression?

Depression is defined as a serious mood disorder marked by persistent sadness and loss of interest. It affects how we think, feel, and function. Fatigue. Sleep issues. Appetite changes. Hopelessness. Brain fog. Difficulty concentrating.

Cool. Clinical. Accurate.

And also? That definition describes a hell of a lot of us.

But here’s the real question:

Can you actually identify what depresses you?

For me, depression looks like losing a health battle I didn’t ask to fight. Kidney disease has a way of quietly rearranging your life while pretending it’s no big deal.

Change… yeah, change is depressing. Losing porch nights because life shifted. Losing control of my business while still being responsible for it. Teaching, explaining, demonstrating expectations over and over… only to watch nothing change.

Depression is living somewhere you hate.

It’s having a child who wants to live with you, and being powerless to change his current situation.

It’s making money you can’t enjoy or use.

It’s worrying about a future that keeps getting closer instead of clearer.

It’s going to bed at 5 a.m. and waking up at 7 a.m. like your brain hates you.

To most people, these things sound small.

To me, they stack up. They linger. They haunt.

Self-diagnosed? Sure.

Still real? Absolutely.

So how do you cure depression?

How do you shut down the brain activity that manufactures darkness no amount of light seems to touch? Is the answer the very thing that depresses me, change? Maybe. But where? How? How do you change things you don’t control?

Do you stop caring?

Stop showing up?

Stop listening?

I don’t have those answers. What I do know is this: I make micro changes. Probably the wrong ones sometimes. But they’re the ones that let me survive my days.

For years, I preached that mental health is no joke. That we all need to do better. Somewhere along the way while trying to be strong, helpful, responsible…. I lost sight of my own happiness.

Now I move through life like an invisible observer. Watching everyone else unfold while I hover quietly on the outside.

Depression is all of this. And more.

I don’t have control of it , but I tug at the shirt tails of the things I can reach.

So what depresses you?

Do you feel in control… or like it’s slipping through your fingers too?

Some days the fight feels heavy. Overwhelming. Endless.

When that happens, don’t aim for perfection. Aim for tomorrow.

Make micro changes.

Find small peace.

Push just far enough to get there.

And then do it again.

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.

The Life I Built… and the One I Lost in the Process

Today I woke up, and for the first time, I think I finally know what it feels like to lose your mind.

Could I actually be going crazy? Or am I just caught in a life rut so deep it swallowed me whole and now I can’t remember how to climb out?

Growing up, we’re told “life is short, don’t let it pass you by.”

Well, I didn’t. I lived a damn good life for a long time.

Maybe not by everyone’s standards, but by mine, it was wild, adventurous, unpredictable. Every weekend meant something new, somewhere new.

Now, it feels like I’m stuck in the movie Groundhog Day.

Every morning I wake up and live the same script. I order the same beer for the bar, pick up the same liquor order, and walk my dog through the same neighborhood…. three, sometimes six miles a day. That’s about forty miles a month of déjà vu.

People say your early years are for being reckless, for chasing things, failing at things, figuring out who you are. Then you’re supposed to build a life, settle down, start the family, take the vacations, eat the dinners together, and actually live.

I want that.

I want normalcy. I want family vacations and dinners around a table that isn’t covered in receipts or shift schedules. I want to see places I haven’t seen yet, and do it all with my wife.

But what I want feels galaxies away from what I have.

I figured out success in business….. it has its highs and lows, sure, but it’s good. What I didn’t figure out was how to make it self-sustaining. Someone always has to be there. The business can’t run without a heartbeat inside its walls.

And that someone is usually me.

So I’m trapped. Trapped in the world I built, the dream I chased, the thing I thought would bring me freedom, but instead holds me prisoner.

I watch other people with other careers, other lives, and they all seem to share something I don’t: time.

Time for long weekends. Time for family meals. Time to breathe.

My wife and I trade shifts like ships passing in night. One home, one at work, keeping the machine alive.

That sacrifice? It’s what’s slowly unspooling me. Because when you see others actually living, laughing at dinner, taking trips, making memories…. you start to wonder when you stopped doing the same.

And that’s what eats at me. That’s what drives me crazy.

I’ve got money in the bank, cash in my pocket, but I can’t spend it, because I can’t go anywhere. I have more cancelled trips this year due to work than I actually have planned.

So where do I go from here?

Because I sure as hell don’t feel like I’m living life to the fullest.

Most nights, I just sit in the garage watching hockey, surrounded by the ghosts of friends past. The ones who got out, who moved on, who somehow figured out how to make peace with the ticking clock.

And me? I’m still here.

Walking the same streets.

Buying the same beer.

Trying to remember how to feel alive again.

Flat Spin: When Life Won’t Let You Eject

The Minneapolis school shooting. Wars. Hunger. Corruption. Every time I see another headline, my own problems feel… tiny. Insignificant. Minute. But then again aren’t the biggest disasters always born out of ignored “small problems”? Maybe brushing things off is exactly how chaos wins.

Stress has been clawing at me. And tonight? Stress is winning. I feel myself unraveling at the seams, like a Babe Ruth home run ball that just split the leather clean open.

I used to pride myself on handling pressure. On being the one who holds the line. But right now? I’m spiraling. Ace pilots call it a “flat spin.” The difference is they have eject handles. I don’t.

Work. Family. Money. Home repairs. Making my business better! You name it, it’s not just on my plate, it’s falling off the damn table.

And here’s the kicker: I know what people would say.

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“You’ll get through it.”

Spare me. If you’ve ever had a real breakdown, you know empty platitudes don’t stitch the seams back together.

This space, this blog, is where I dump the mess. Some days it’s reflection. Some days it’s humor. Tonight? It’s survival.

I don’t have an answer. I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. Right now, it feels like a freefall and I’m terrified that when the chute finally opens, it’ll be too late. I always answer, I’m always there. A crises, a meltdown, a needed friend, I’m your guy…. my problem in life is there isn’t any more of me out there for when I need me the most!

The hardest part about being the strong one is realizing when you need yourself most… you’re already busy holding everyone else together….

Should I Stay or Should I Go: My Life’s Stress Anthem

If my life had a theme song right now, it would be The Clash blasting in the background with Should I Stay or Should I Go. Except instead of a punk band yelling the lyrics, it’s just me, standing in my kitchen, staring at decisions that seem bigger than life itself.

“Should I stay or should I go now?”

That’s not just a lyric, it’s the soundtrack to every damn choice I make. Do I stay in comfort or go chase something bigger? Do I hold onto stress like it’s some twisted security blanket, or finally let it go before it eats me alive?

Commitment is tricky. Owning a restaurant, running a business, trying to make time for myself… it all demands that I stay. Stay focused. Stay committed. Stay up late working when my brain is screaming for sleep. But there’s always that voice in the back of my head saying, “Go. Walk away. Start fresh. Find something easier.”

The stress comes from being stuck in the middle. Staying feels like grinding gears, going feels like freefalling. And the worst part? Every decision comes with its own price tag. Like the lyrics say:

“If I go, there will be trouble… and if I stay it will be double.”

That’s it. That’s my life. Go? Trouble. Stay? Double. Either way, stress doesn’t pack up and leave, it just moves into a different room of my house. At work, it’s trying to manage people who don’t wake up everyday wanting to make this business better. At home, it’s a jungle for the front yard because I haven’t had time to cut the lawn in over three weeks, drywall that’s falling apart and splitting at the seams like a California fault line, and a new electrical problem 200 stories above my pay grade, oh and add the raccoon family living rent free in my chimney. Might as well charge admission and run my home like a zoo!

But here’s the thing: stress and commitment aren’t enemies. Stress is a reminder that what I’m doing matters. Commitment is the anchor that keeps me from drifting into chaos. Maybe the real question isn’t should I stay or should I go, but how do I stay without losing myself?

Maybe the trick is learning to dance with stress instead of letting it stomp all over me. To commit not just to the grind, but to myself. To remind myself that the song is mine to play… volume button and all. (No matter who thinks it’s too loud)

So yeah, I’ll stay. But not as a prisoner of stress. I’ll stay because I choose to, because I believe in what I’m building. And when the chaos gets too loud, I’ll find a way to turn into the rhythm.

Because if music has taught us anything, the greatest songs were created in the depths of stress and chaos.

FOR NOW, I”LL STAY….

“God’s Plan”… Or Your Plan?

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts lately about people wondering what God’s plan is for them, or crediting (or blaming) every twist in their life on some mysterious divine roadmap.

But, hear me out….. what if there is no plan? Not trying to start a holy war amongst friends, but….

What if there’s no cosmic blueprint with your name on it, no puppet strings pulling you toward success or failure? What if you are the one holding the pen, writing your own damn story?

It takes more than prayer and patience to build the life you want. It takes thought, desire, and a whole lot of trust in yourself. You want a better job? Apply. Want to get healthier? Put in the work. Want to find love? Go where the people are and take a shot.

To seriously believe that a higher power made you fail or made you succeed, that’s pure hokum. If you believe God is paving the way for you, fine… but at some point, you have to step off the prayer rug, put on some boots, and start walking. Otherwise, you’ll eventually become a pile of dust waiting for that sign!

Because ultimately?

It’s not divine intervention that gets you there.

It’s you.

Patio Potential: Why Ours Isn’t Working… and Our Attempt to Bring It to Life

Let’s be real for a second, our patio is ok. It’s got sturdy tables, comfy chairs, big umbrellas with our logo, and a front-row seat to a beautiful West Virginia backdrop. But here’s the hard truth… nice isn’t enough.

Right now, our patio is like that friend who has all the right clothes but never gets invited to the party because they just stand in the corner sipping water. It’s clean, it’s ready, but it’s missing that spark…. in all seriousness it’s a corner of the parking lot and the vibe isn’t really hitting! The thing that makes people want to be here, laugh here, and post about it online, doesn’t really exist YET!

So, why isn’t it working?

1. There’s No “Scene” (Open to Suggestions)

People are drawn to energy. A packed patio makes more people want to sit outside. An empty one… not so much. If there’s no live music, no games, (we had games, the kids broke them all) no conversation flowing, it’s easy for folks to just choose the table inside.

2. We’re Not Creating FOMO

Social media should be showing people what they’re missing. If the only thing they see online is a picture of an empty table, they’ll assume it’s quiet and skip it.

3. The Experience Doesn’t Feel Different

If eating outside feels exactly the same as eating inside (just with more sunlight), people will pick comfort over heat, wind, or bugs. The patio has to offer something special.

How We’re Going to Change That( Or at least attempt change)

Alright, enough with the diagnosis…. here’s the cure.

Step 1: Make It Look Alive

String lights, colorful flowers, maybe a firepit when the nights cool down. Outdoor games like ring toss (again) or giant Jenga to keep the atmosphere casual and fun. We want people driving by to see action and think, “What’s going on over there?”

Step 2: Social Media FOMO

We’ll start posting videos of laughter, clinking glasses, and sizzling food coming straight off the grill. Not stock photos — real people, real fun. We’ll tag locals, drop event invites, and make sure every picture says, You should be here.

Step 3: Partner Up

Local breweries & distilleries for some tap take overs and tastings could help.

The Goal

We want Basil’s patio to be the place people think of first when the weather is good. A space where locals know they’ll see friends, hear music, and get a great meal with a side of fresh air.

Random Thoughts: Caffeinated and Confused

First off , can someone explain to me why hot coffee left out becomes cold… but cold water left out becomes warm?

Like… pick a side, physics.

Science will probably tell me it’s “heat transfer” or “thermodynamics” or some other boring term that sounds like a high school class I slept through. But in my head, it’s just coffee and water being dramatic.

Speaking of things that don’t make sense… at 18 you’re an adult. You can pack your bags, move out of your parents’ house, get married, get a job, pay taxes, sign contracts, and fully run your own household.

But here’s the kicker …. you still can’t buy a beer to put in your fridge or a handgun to protect that home.

So let’s get this straight:

You can be legally kicked out. You can legally be broke from bills. You can legally get married and divorced twice in the same year. But you can’t legally have a Miller Lite while holding the Glock you also can’t legally have.

We either need to:

Let 18-year-olds have all the “adult” perks….. beer, bourbon, and Berettas. Or Admit that they’re not fully adults until 21 and stop pretending otherwise.

Here’s where it gets even dumber.

A police department can hire an 18-year-old, hand them a gun, send them to the academy, and throw them on the streets to “protect and serve.”

So… as a citizen you can’t have a handgun under 21, but as a cop you can…. because, apparently, a badge overrides the state law?

So if an incident happens and an under-21 officer has to discharge their firearm, how exactly is that legal?

Oh, right… because “reasons.”

This country has some truly dumb, contradictory rules.

And today… I’m just confused by them all.