History repeats itself. It always does. It doesn’t matter how many people have lived it, warned about it, or tried to guide you around it.
You’re still going to walk straight into it.
As parents, we do everything we can to point our kids in the right direction. But eventually, the choice is theirs. And when it comes to relationships… heartbreak isn’t a possibility… It’s a guarantee.
If I could give my child, or any child, advice about love, it would be this:
Your first love will hit the hardest. And it will be the hardest to let go of. But don’t get stuck there. Don’t stay in something that’s toxic or headed nowhere just because it once felt right.
Then comes the unicorn… the one you swear got away. For years, you’ll believe you missed your chance. That you lost something rare.
Until one day… you see them again.
And it hits you, clear as day, you didn’t miss anything at all.
After that come the floating years. Short relationships. Quick attachments. High highs, low lows. You might circle back to your first love… or chase the unicorn again, hoping for a different ending.
You won’t get one.
Eventually, something shifts. You get tired of the cycle. That’s when you start focusing on yourself… your work, your future, your direction.
And here’s where it matters:
The right woman won’t pull you off your path. She won’t compete with your purpose.
She’ll stand next to it.
She’ll support you, push you, and make sure you don’t lose sight of where you’re going.
This is the time to lock in. Build something. Save your money. Create a life that gives you freedom later on.
Because none of that happens by accident.
The hardest part of all of this? Walking away from people you were sure were meant for you.
That’s where the real pain lives.
Listen to the advice. Lean on the people who actually care about you. Let it hurt, but don’t let it keep you stuck.
Because here’s the truth no one escapes:
We’ve all been through it. Every single one of us. And no matter how much we try to guide you… it won’t stop it from happening.
History doesn’t care.
You’ll go through it. You’ll feel it. You’ll learn the hard way… just like we did.
And one day, you’ll find yourself on the other side of it… Giving the same advice.
As a friend. A brother. A father.
And realizing, for the first time, how hard it is to watch someone you care about walk straight into a lesson you know they have to learn on their own.
Anyone who has watched the TV series Letterkenny knows the show is full of great one-liners. The kind that make you laugh, rewind, and repeat them for weeks, maybe even years.
But one line from the show has always stuck with me more than the others:
“When a friend asks for help, you help them.”
It sounds simple. Almost too simple. But the older I get, the more I realize how rare that mindset actually is.
Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I take certain things in life a little more seriously than most people. But when it comes to helping friends, acquaintances, or even complete strangers, if someone needs help, I get up and go.
I wasn’t always like this. Somewhere along the road of life, something changed in me.
I think a big part of that shift came after my best friend took his own life. Losing someone like that forces you to look at the world differently. It makes you pay attention to the quiet struggles people carry. It makes you realize how important it is to show up for people.
I know one thing without a doubt, Mikey was always there. No matter what, if anyone needed help, he showed up.
I just wish we all could have been there for him when he needed us the most.
That’s when I started my Acknowledge. Care. Tell. page and got my QPR certification so I could help others who might be struggling. Most of that work focuses on mental health, but the truth is helping people doesn’t stop there.
If someone needs help, physical, emotional, whatever…. I try to be there.
A best friend bought a new house and needed a massive stair chair lift removed. The kind of job that makes you question your life decisions halfway through it. Heavy, awkward, and absolutely miserable to move.
But he asked for help. So I showed up.
Another time a friend got his truck buried deep in a mud hole in the woods in Fernwood Forest. His call for help came at 2 a.m. Most people would roll over and let that phone go to voicemail.
Instead, I grabbed the keys to my old Toyota 4×4 and headed out into the forest to pull him out.
I even helped my brother-in-law shovel his deck after a snowstorm while I was still in a sling after surgery. Mostly so my sister wouldn’t be mad.
Because that’s the rule. When a friend asks for help, you help them.
Now here’s the part I’ve noticed over the years. Not everyone lives by that rule.
Some people won’t get off the couch. Some people suddenly become “busy.” Some people are great at accepting help but mysteriously unavailable when the roles reverse.
And I’m not saying that to complain. It’s just something you start to notice if you pay attention. You quietly keep a mental note of who shows up… and who doesn’t when the bat signal goes out.
Universal Sign for Help
But here’s the thing. You shouldn’t help people because you expect something in return. You help because it’s the right way to live.
And if there’s one piece of advice I can give anyone reading this, it’s this:
If a friend asks for help… you help them.
It might be inconvenient. It might be heavy. It might be 2 a.m. in the woods.
But showing up for people is one of the simplest and most powerful things we can do in this life.
Social media is a lot like Peter Parker’s famous lesson, with great power comes great responsibility.
At least, that’s what it started as.
For me, social media was originally about connection. Keeping in touch with friends and family. Networking. Creating group pages where coworkers, relatives, and communities could actually communicate and help each other. It felt useful. Positive. Almost… wholesome.
Then the pages multiplied.
“I’m From This Town” groups. Neighborhood watch pages. Crime alert feeds. Jeep groups. Toyota groups. BMW groups. Hobby communities. Local discussion boards.
And honestly? Most of them began with great intentions. Need advice on a vehicle modification? Ask the group. See a safety issue in your neighborhood? Share it. Want to warn people about a hazard or help someone solve a problem? Post it.
Simple. Except somewhere along the way, the problem stopped being the platform… and became the people using it.
Now, genuine questions are labeled stupid. Helpful posts get mocked. Someone trying to inform others gets buried under sarcasm, criticism, and outright bullying. Half the comments are people tearing someone down, and the other half are arguing with those people.
We’ve somehow turned community spaces into digital food fights.
Tone doesn’t translate well online. Humor gets mistaken for insults. Sarcasm becomes outrage. Someone is always offended, someone else is always furious, and the modern battle cry has become “FAFO”, usually typed by someone who has probably never confronted anyone face-to-face in their life.
Let’s be honest: most keyboard warriors wouldn’t say a single word in public. The confidence only exists behind a screen, drinking a diet Dr. Pepper.
And yet, here’s the irony, we’ll all keep using social media.
Some of us use it for genuine connection. Some to share experiences, journeys, and photos. Some to learn. Some to help.
But understand this: even your happiest moments… your vacation, your success, your progress, will attract negativity.
Not because you did anything wrong.
But because jealousy and boredom are powerful motivators for people whose biggest adventure is scrolling through someone else’s life.
Anytime something bad happens, locally or globally, it lands on social media within minutes. And honestly? That part doesn’t bother me.
People grieve differently. Some need to talk. Some need to vent. Some need to feel less alone. And news outlets? Social media is basically their second newsroom now. None of that is surprising. What does get under my skin is the flood of comments that immediately follow:
“Sending prayers.”
“Praying for you.”
“Prayers for the families.”
“Prayers for first responders.”
Now listen… if you pray, cool. Truly. No one should stop you or shame you for it. Faith is personal, and I respect that.
But here’s the uncomfortable question nobody wants to ask: How many of those people are actually praying?
Like… genuinely stopping what they’re doing. Dropping to their knees. Hands together. Intentional thought. A real moment of reflection or connection.
Because typing “sending prayers” while standing in line at Target or scrolling on the toilet isn’t prayer. It’s a comment.
And when hundreds of people say they’re praying, but aren’t, it becomes no different than any other empty promise we casually toss around every day.
As a society, we’ve accepted the gesture without the action. The appearance of compassion without the effort of it.
And that’s the part that feels dishonest.
I’m not religious. So if something happens to me, praying for me, or saying you’ll pray for me, doesn’t really land. I’d honestly rather you send good vibes. But even that has the same problem.
Because “sending good vibes” is often just another phrase people use to signal that they’re participating in the moment, without actually doing anything meaningful.
It’s not prayer.
It’s not energy.
It’s not support.
It’s words.
Words designed to make the person typing them feel like they contributed. Like they helped. Like they checked the “I care” box for the day.
And I get it..: most people don’t know what to say when tragedy hits. Silence feels wrong. Doing nothing feels worse.
But maybe the answer isn’t louder words. Maybe it’s honesty.
Say: “This breaks my heart.” “I don’t know what to say, but I’m thinking about you.” Or, wild idea, actually do something. Reach out. Check in. Show up.
Because compassion isn’t measured by how fast you comment or how many praying-hand emojis you use. It’s measured by sincerity.
And right now, social media is overflowing with performances of care… while real empathy quietly gets drowned out in the noise.
Life is already chaotic enough. We don’t need to add hollow comfort to the list.
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.”
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.
A very much needed renovation to Long John Silver’s has wrapped up and the seafood slingers are back in action. Newer, nicer, and busier than ever!
The grand re-opening? Honestly, it might be the most exciting thing to hit Weirton in years. Is it the new hot spot? Maybe. People do love to chase shiny things. And while it’s not an entirely new restaurant, it is a fresher, cleaner, better version of a local classic, and that matters.
From day one, it’s been packed. Cars parked every which way around the building, and drive-thru lines wrapped around like it was giving away PS5s with hush puppies.
For three straight days, the lines poured onto Main Street like it was a deep-fried parade.
I haven’t gone yet, I’m not about that wait-in-line life. I’ll let the hype simmer down and swoop in later for my seafood fix and a little low-key support.
But I have driven by daily, and I’ve gotta say: it’s been heartwarming to see the crowds. A strong showing of community support. I even toss a horn honk or two on my way home from work, just to shout out the hardworking crew wrapping up their shift. A little love never hurt.
But of course… cue the complainers.
Social media lit up like a fish fryer on Good Friday:
Post one: “So proud of our community!”
Post two: “Who designed this parking lot? Stevie Wonder?”
Divide and fry: half the town is cheering, the other half is deep-diving into Google Reviews with pitchforks and pettiness.
Listen, these workers were trained and then immediately thrown into chaos. This wasn’t a normal soft opening with gentle trickles of customers. Nah, they got slammed from minute one with every fish fanatic in a 20-mile radius. So maybe be a little more understanding and patient.
Let’s talk parking. Yeah… it’s still trash. You knew it would be. You remember what it was like before; tight spaces, weird angles, chaotic traffic flow. They rebuilt the restaurant, not the land around it. You knew what you were walking into.
So if you see a line stretching down Main Street like the Christmas parade is starting, maybe just… keep driving? Come back later? Be part of the solution instead of acting like you were personally wronged by a fish sandwich?
Honestly, I love seeing a small business get this kind of attention, especially one that’s been around this long. They deserve some slack, some grace, and a whole lot of gratitude.
To the crew at LJS: you’re killin’ it. Keep doing your thing. I’ll stop in soon to support in person…when things calm down and I can get my chicken planks in peace.
As we age, birthdays often lose their magic and feel more like just another day. For me, at 52, gifts and well-wishes aren’t as important as something deeper: consistent respect and support for the choices I’ve made to prioritize my health and well-being.
A few years ago, I was diagnosed with stage 3 kidney disease. That diagnosis hit hard, and I made drastic changes to slow its progression. While those changes helped, my kidney disease is now affecting my heart, demanding an even stricter diet and greater discipline—two things I’ve always struggled with.
It’s not easy to stick to a strict diet when family and friends don’t fully support the plan. I know what I can and cannot eat, and I know what works for me. But too often, the people around me unintentionally make it harder. It’s tough when there’s leftover candy from every holiday lying around or when the main social activity is grabbing drinks.
This brings me to birthdays. Too often, people celebrate by doing what they think is special rather than focusing on what the person actually wants. But birthdays should be about the individual, right?
Take today, for example. I don’t need anyone making plans for me; I’m perfectly capable of deciding what I’d like to do. And what I want this year is simple: I want to go to the movies. It’s been years since I last sat in a theater, and the film Homestead just came out. So yes, I’m treating myself to a theater experience. No one has to worry about whether I’ll like it—I picked it, so of course I will!
This brings me back to respect and support. I’ve chosen to live a healthier lifestyle because I have to—it’s not optional for me. My diet is strict, but it’s necessary to keep my health from declining further. I’ve cut out sugars, alcohol, red meat, and cholesterol while limiting sodium, fats, and protein. That leaves me with a diet centered on fruits, vegetables, oatmeal, rice, and occasional chicken.
Because I can’t control how food is prepared at restaurants, I don’t dine out often. At home, I know exactly what goes into my meals and how they’re cooked, and that gives me peace of mind. This is the lifestyle I’ve chosen, not because it’s easy but because it’s essential for me to have a chance at a longer life.
What I really want for my birthday—and beyond—is for the people around me to respect my choices. Support isn’t about grand gestures or surprises; it’s about understanding and honoring how I’ve decided to live my life. After all, my decisions are about survival, and every bit of respect and support makes the journey easier.
Today, I’ll enjoy my birthday on my terms, knowing that I’m doing what’s best for me. That, more than anything, is worth celebrating.
As far back as I can remember I’ve always lived my life in the very fast lane. I played rough, I partied rough and I never took in to accountability my health. Older friends and family members used to comment to me how life changes as you get older. For me, I never took their words too serious.
Teens, to my twenties, into my thirties and onward to the forties, life kept moving at a fast pace. Still played hard, still partied harder, never giving much thought as to what was happened to my body. Right before my fiftieth birthday, I took some consideration into my health. I took a long look at the lifestyle I was enjoying so very much over the years and said to myself, enough is enough!
The days of chasing a bottle of Captain Morgan with a case of miller lite have to stop. Even more so, the faster pace and harder drug use has to stop first! I have a sixteen year old son for Christ sakes! Should I even have to ask myself the question? The answer is yes! I want to be a part of his life, I want to see him graduate high school and then college. I want to be a part of his future not just a part of his past.
Where to start? For me, I started by deleting all the contacts in my phone that lead to bad decisions. I created a drinking schedule, that greatly slowed down my consumption. I only have drinks on occasions where my wife and I travel somewhere. This equals out be around a dozen or so drinks per year. Locally, if we head to dinner somewhere, I’ll just have water and coffee.
Next, I removed myself from the friends that only party and only drink. This was the hardest. Not sure if anyone has been hear or has tried, but making new friends at 50 years old is not the easiest! Until, I got myself back into mountain biking. I have found a new group of friends that align with my values and my habits.
See turning 50 last year wasn’t the eye opener most experience. For me, I still contradicted everyone else’s thoughts on aging. At fifty, I felt great, I was in pretty good shape and my diet and my alcohol consumption changed drastically, for the better! Now, as I write this, ten days until my 51st birthday, I find it even more important to begin the next fifty years of my life on a different path the first fifty took.
My values must include my family, my health, my addiction to good habits and staying the course. Some require rehab and support groups, and trust me I’ve considered both options. I have always prided myself on the ability to quit something no matter how addicting and to be able to do so cold turkey.
The next hardest part of turning a new leaf, is to get the important people around you to get on board. I am my own person and I ultimately am the one making the decisions for myself, but it sure as hell helps when you’re not surrounded by people constantly trying to get you to have a drink, or call the local drug dealer. So, back to What Do You Value Most!
The friends and family I choose to have around me these days are part of who and what I value most. No questions asked, no advice given, just 100% support when needed and presence when wanted. These are the people who understand why I’ll just have a water while everyone else is banging shots or chugging pints. Zero pressure and all in support is all anyone ever needs in quitting bad habits.
So hear’s to embracing change and starting the next chapter. Hear’s to good habits that are aligned with my values. Hear’s to good choices and healthier choices and being a part of my family’s and my communities lives. Change is possible, but it is near impossible if you don’t want it or don’t have the support around you that is ok with it.
For me, the writing was on the wall, and I chose better! My story, isn’t over yet!!!
Hard Lessons & Honest Thoughts 