Tag: traffic

All the kittens died.

Please be advised that this post contains some graphic descriptions.

I knew her for many years, and I liked her, but I had only found out recently that she liked me the whole time I had known her. I remember she and I started hanging around each other a lot more, and things began to come out in the open. It was kind of surprising to me at the time, but felt great that our feelings were mutual.

I have a memory of one day when we made a drive in the country together. She had a horse and she was going to show her to me. She was something of a cowgirl I guess, and did barrel racing growing up. We drove out toward the ranch where her horse was pastured, but we never quite made it there. It was at one of her girlfriend’s house, but if I remember right, she saw she had company and didn’t want to interrupt, so we just kept driving around.

The conversation we were having was very distracting, and I remember it made me make a wrong turn. I actually turned down the wrong side of the highway, which was one way, and I was going against traffic! It didn’t take me long to correct this of course, and I’m lucky there weren’t many cars on the road that far out of town. Maybe this was a sign telling me I was going the wrong way.

As we talked, it came out how much we really liked each other, but something sort of came to mind that bothered me. I remembered something that happened to me when I was a child growing up. It was one of those things that is in the back of your mind influencing things, but you don’t really talk about it.

When I was growing up, there were a lot of stray cats living around the house. It was a small town and no one seemed to mind them. Some people put out food for them. I think people believed they were a good thing to have around because they might eat things like mice and rats, or maybe kill small snakes.

As a kid, I loved these cats so much and spent considerable time around them. Since they were strays, they were not neutered, and it was not uncommon to find a bunch of kittens in a wood pile or under the house. This was very wonderful for me to find as a child!

Every time I would come upon a litter of kittens, I would pet and play with them for hours. During this time, it was inevitable that I would find one that I loved the most. It was most often the black one because it usually had a patch of white fur right under it’s chin. It sort of made it look like it was wearing a tiny tuxedo.

Since my family was religious, I was a very faithful child. Because of this, a very strange idea crept into my little mind. I began to believe that if I loved a kitten too much, God would take it away from me, because it interfered with my love for God. I admit it was probably a silly idea that God might be somehow jealous of a kitten, but I was a superstitious youth, and kind of believed it at the time.

I should give some back story here. Young stray cats often get into a lot of trouble while they are growing up. There’s actually a lot of ways they can get hurt very badly, but there’s one thing that is especially dangerous to them, as I found out the hard way.

In the old days, cars had large cavities under the hood by the engine that were warm, dark, and quiet most of the time. These spaces were very inviting for a young cat because they could climb up into this area for protection from the elements and other animals. Unfortunately, cars back then also had a big metal fan that rotated at high speed when the engine was running, and it was prone to quickly massacre young felines before they even knew what hit them.

Because of my superstitious ideas, I began to notice something odd happening with the stray kittens. It always seemed like the cat I loved the most was the one to hit the fan first. I’m sure my focus on this one kitten increased my chances of noticing it missing more, but I couldn’t get it out of my mind that I might somehow be responsible.

I was positively traumatized by this every time it happened. It was one of the most terrible parts of my childhood, and I know my dad hated it as bad as I did, because it was usually him cranking the car to go to work in the morning that caused the accident. I can’t imagine how that made his morning.

I’m so glad my dad took care of this before I saw it. I wouldn’t know at all until the next day when I went looking for my favorite cat and couldn’t find him, only to be told later what happened when I asked my parents.

For many years afterwards, I was very scared to love anything deeply, because I didn’t want to feel responsible if something bad happened. I felt like God would take what I loved away, sometimes in the most terrible way possible. I was totally traumatized by these kittens being decapitated, and felt like I was the cause of it all.

I love you enough to give this a try, but I have to tell you, all the kittens died.

This crazy thought was still buried in my psyche many years later when I was on this ride through the country. I remember I told her, I love you enough to give this a try, but I have to tell you, all the kittens died. She was, of course, totally baffled by what I meant until I explained it later.

As far as I know, she’s still alive and well, but my what hell we went though together! It set in motion something that tore my heart into little shreds! Honestly, the trauma I had from the kittens seems light in comparison. From what I’ve heard, she might have fared even worse, but she hasn’t really told me what happened after she left town.

It’s over now, but I do still care about her deeply. I’m very sorry for what happened to both of us. If I had it to do over, I still don’t know if I could have changed anything. I think it was part of our destiny together. This time, the kitten lived! Thank God!

What experiences have you had with stray animals? Have you ever lost a pet to an automobile? Have you had similar traumatizing events? Have you ever had any superstitious ideas? What’s the best way to get over your superstitions? Let me know in the comments, and don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe!

What I love about where I live.

I live in fairly large city, but it doesn’t feel like one sometimes. It’s been described as a big city, with a small-town vibe. I think this is because the people here are pretty friendly, and the community feels relatively safe. This allows you to get to know quite a lot of the locals. There’s still plenty of new people to meet every day, but some faces become familiar after a while. Below are few things I like about where I live.

22 things I like about where I live.

  1. There are a lot of things to do within walking distance.
  2. It feels relatively safe in the downtown area.
  3. People who live here are usually very friendly.
  4. My job is few minutes away and I can walk there if I want.
  5. The neighborhood looks very clean and well kept.
  6. There are a lot of luxury apartments in the area.
  7. I can cheaply rideshare to any place in the city.
  8. The downtown area has a thriving nightlife.
  9. There are tons of restaurants, bars, and fast-food places.
  10. I like my balcony view from the third floor, very peaceful.
  11. There is a nice community room with a pool table.
  12. The apartment residents are fairly quiet.
  13. There is a nice workout center I hardly use.
  14. There is a community pool that I never use.
  15. My vehicle is always protected in the parking garage.
  16. I can get just about anything delivered to me.
  17. I don’t have to drive far for groceries.
  18. There are shopping malls not too far away.
  19. The city has a large zoo and botanical garden.
  20. The city has a library and several art galleries.
  21. There is a movie theater and two comedy clubs downtown.
  22. There is a large symphony hall in walking distance.

What it looked like today from my balcony.

Balcony view from my apartment on the third floor.

Some photos I took of my neighborhood.

Please share your thoughts in the comments, and don’t forget to like, share, and subscribe!

Blogging Getting to $2,000 a Month in 90 Days.

Blogging Getting to $2,000 a Month in 90 Days

Rating: 4 out of 5.
Summary

Isaac Kronenberg does it again with another fabulous blogging book that goes above and beyond anything else out there!

This latest book by Kronenberg is the most advanced blogging book on the market, teaching nothing but the most effective blogging monetization strategies that exist to get your blog from zero to $2000 a month in 90 days.

Everything in this book is based on real strategies currently used by top-earning bloggers. Whether you’re new to blogging or an advanced blogger, if there was some magic pill that could take you from nothing to earning a full-time income from a blog, then this book is the closest thing in existence to that magic pill.

If you’re serious about earning an income blogging, then this book will be the best book which you’ve ever heard on the subject.

This one is free if you have Kindle Unlimited.

It is also available as an audio book from Audible.

I just finished this blogging book written by Isaac Kronenberg. It was a pretty short book and the methodology seemed more practical than the last one. The claim is that you can get to $2,000 in 90 days if you follow his exact method. His advice focuses on starting a review blog for a niche market with other suggestions thrown in to help build traffic. Maybe it could work. Now all I need is a niche market.

He also had a chapter on what he called the dark side of blogging. He made it sound very foreboding, but I don’t know exactly what he was talking about. I really didn’t expect that a blogging book would need an ethics chapter, but maybe there’s a lot of misuse out there. He mentioned that one of his students went astray like that, and it changed him, but I’m not sure what he meant. It felt like a scene out of Star Wars or something. Do you think there’s a dark side?

He mentioned that you have a lot of power in your hands and that it could be used for bad purposes. He also noted that the people reading your blog have real lives and they could be influenced in ways that might not be positive for them or society as a whole. I do think that’s a true statement about writing in general, but I also think that most people have a good enough head on their shoulders to not be easily misled.

Our whole culture seems to be based on written words handed down through countless generations. How does it feel to be adding to that every time you make a post? Don’t you feel important now? Writers are awesome!

If you have read this one already, or do so in the future, please let me know what you think in the comments!

I was once run over by a car.

I have never had a surgery of any kind, and honestly, I hope I never do have one. There have been a few scares here and there. I’ve had a broken collarbone, and once had to have a staple put in a wound on my elbow because I fell down on it while running to get out of the rain. It left a big gash and the nurse at work thought I should go to the hospital. I generally try to be very proactive with healthcare to prevent having to visit the hospital. I really don’t like going to the doctor or hospital.

One close call I had was when I was run over by a car. Yea, you read that right. I was walking home alone one night and as I crossed the street someone in a white Honda Accord decided to turn without looking. I was new to city life at the time, and I believed when the traffic signal said walk, you could do so safely. I learned the hard way that turning traffic can still nail you if they aren’t looking for pedestrians.

I just instinctively knew my leg bones would shatter to pieces on impact.

What I remember from this accident was that I saw him coming toward me, not super-fast, but fast enough that I could tell he wasn’t going to stop, and too fast for me to get completely out of his way. My mind worked very quickly and came up with a plan to roll over his hood. I was trying to avoid busting both of my shin bones on his fender. I just instinctively knew my leg bones would shatter to pieces on impact.

It worked, but the impact was still very solid on my knee and shoulder. I successfully rolled over the hood and landed on my feet, still in a kind of shock. I did have enough sense about me to reach down and grab my sunglasses off the pavement. They had fallen off my shirt. I had them because it was still daylight when I first walked downtown. I saw they were not broken, then dashed over to the sidewalk to avoid other potential collisions. It was like 2 am and the streets were pretty dead though.

It’s funny that people would let you die rather than face jailtime, isn’t it?

The worst part about it was they drove off as though nothing had happened. It was a hit and run. I mean, they didn’t even stop or slow down. I also didn’t think to get the license plate either. To me, it seemed pretty cold to run someone over and just keep driving. Being that late at night, I reckoned they were probably drunk as hell though, and that would have been serious jailtime. It’s funny that people would let you die rather than face jailtime, isn’t it?

I just started laughing! I once read that a lot of comedy is just when something deadly happens but doesn’t manage to kill you.

When I got to the sidewalk, I noticed that my knee and arm were a bit sore, but nothing felt broken. I remember shaking it off and rotating my arm to make sure I had full range of motion, and then, and I don’t know why, I just started laughing! I once read that a lot of comedy is just when something deadly happens but doesn’t manage to kill you. I probably looked pretty funny rolling over that car like a stunt man. I might be a star right now if someone had been there to post on YouTube.

The next day wasn’t so funny. After the shock had worn off, I had quite a good bruise on my shoulder and knee. The impact on my shoulder was so massive that it had crushed and killed the skin around the bone. It gradually began to look like an abrasion as dead cells were slowly replaced with new ones. My knee was similar, but not as bad. I think my jeans offered a bit more protection.

On occasions like this, I sometimes wonder if I’m actually a real person or a hero in a comic book.

I also saw the same problem with the shirt I was wearing, which I still have. It was a black polyester golf shirt, just like this one PGA TOUR Men’s Airflux Solid Mesh Short Sleeve Golf Polo Shirt. I like these shirts because they remain fairly cool to wear in the hot summer and the fabric wicks away moisture. Unfortunately, the fibers on this shirt were totally crushed at the spot where the impact occurred. It also looks like the fabric become slightly melted by the intense friction. That’s probably to be expected, since this shirt isn’t designed to endure car collusions. On occasions like this, I seriously wonder if I’m a real person or a character in a comic book.

It was an interesting experience, but I’m glad it hasn’t repeated itself. I am much more careful now and watch for turning traffic. I also try to wear brighter colors, but black is really one of my favorite colors, and it wasn’t night when I first ventured out. I guess I’m just really lucky that my guardian angels don’t go to bed early.

Have you ever had a close call like this? Do you find epic fail videos entertaining? Tell me about your thoughts in the comments, and don’t forget to like and subscribe!

The last ride.

I got the call in the afternoon, if I remember right. It was a nurse who worked at the nursing home where my dad was staying. She had a lot of concern in her voice. I knew this wasn’t going to be good.

I knew this nurse a little. I think her name was Josie, but I’m not totally positive. I moved away many years prior to this incident. She was younger than me, but she knew my family. She lived in the same small town where they lived, and everybody knew everybody.

A few days prior to that, my dad had trouble walking. That’s why he was in the nursing home. One of his legs didn’t work very well and he kept falling when he put weight on it. I remember him telling me about it. I didn’t know what to say, but I felt deep sorrow about his health deteriorating. He was a very active person, and I knew being non-ambulatory would greatly reduce his quality of life.

The nurse told me my dad was getting worse. She said, he can’t stand up and is becoming incontinent. Then she said, I can call this in, but they will take him back to the same hospital that released him here. She wasn’t sure this was the right choice.

Right before my dad lost control over his leg, he had a chemical stress test done at this hospital. There was some suspicion that the stress test might have triggered a stroke, and that was why he lost control over his leg. She didn’t want to send him back if there was a possibility of malpractice.

I couldn’t afford to make an imperfect move. My dad’s life was hanging in the balance.

I wasn’t sure what to do, but I felt completely responsible. I knew this was one of those life changing decisions I was going to have to make. I couldn’t afford to make an imperfect move. My dad’s life was hanging in the balance. It felt like I alone would have to save him. The weight of this whole ordeal was unbelievably heavy.

I remember telling her, I see your point, but I’m unsure what options we have. She then said, I have to release him back to the same hospital, because that’s the only one around, but you can take him anywhere.

I should note at this point, that areas with less population density don’t always attract the best medical professionals, and they often can’t afford the best equipment. The harsh truth is, these small hospitals are of much lessor quality than those in major cities.

The nurse was suggesting that I drive all the way to the nursing home, which was almost a two hour drive, in a completely different state, then pick him up and drive him all the way back to where I live, and walk him into an emergency room. She knew the hospitals where I lived were much better, and she felt like my dad could get a more accurate diagnosis there. She wasn’t wrong.

I felt like I had to give it a shot for my dad’s sake. Shortly after this phone call ended, I jumped in my car and made the long drive to the nursing home to pick up my dad.

In hindsight, it just seems fitting that the last ride was made in his van.

Other family members were there to help me load him up. We took his red mini van because it would be much more comfortable for him than my small coupe. This van was also his pride and joy. In hindsight, it just seems fitting that the last ride was made in his van.

When I got there, I could see he had really deteriorated since I had last seen him. He was now on pain meds. I felt really bad about transporting him this way, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. The drive was going to be long, and it wasn’t going to be a pleasant ride for him.

I felt like I was being a good son. I believed I was going to save my dad. Looking back, I realize I was very naive.

At that time, I thought, we are going to get a diagnosis, figure out if it was a stroke, and I know that’s bad, but if we can get that stabilized, we can work on his rehabilitation. It will be hard, but maybe he can walk again. I felt like we were going to get through this. I felt like I was being a good son. I believed I was going to save my dad. Looking back, I realize I was very naive.

I’ve driven a lot in my life, I really have. At that time, I commuted a couple hours everyday. I’ve also taken road trips, not long ones, but pretty significant ones. I was also quite fond of making drives in the country, just looking at trees and pastures, but none of those drives would compare to this one.

I can still remember the sound of the van door sliding shut. That was the sound of my old life being closed off forever.

I will remember the trip for the rest of my life, but not because something happened on the way. It was just a long dark ride down an empty highway, with nothing but black pastures on either side, completely lifeless except for the occasional black silhouette of a trees and shrubs speeding past the side windows. My life was never the same afterwards though. I can still remember the sound of the van door sliding shut. That was the sound of my old life being closed off forever.

We finally arrived at the hospital where I live. This would be the first but not the last hospital we would be at that night. I got him into the ER and explained the symptoms. They began running a battery of tests. The night seemed to creep by very slowly.

I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but your dad has a tumor in his brain.

It seemed like forever, but the doctor finally came to tell me what they had found. He looked grave. He said, we think we found what is wrong with your dad, but we are not equipped to treat something like this at this hospital. He showed me a chart, and said, I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but your dad has a tumor in his brain. The best thing we can do is get him transported to a bigger hospital, and they can decide his treatment.

At that time, I was still my old self, the self that believed in happy endings, the self that had hope left inside him. Unfortunately, that self was about to die.

I don’t know how to describe my feelings at that moment. Everything just felt numb all over. The words were spoken, but they just didn’t register. I think maybe I was in shock. I couldn’t let anyone see how I really felt inside. I had to be strong for my mom and dad. At that time, I was still my old self, the self that believed in happy endings, the self that had hope left inside him. Unfortunately, that self was about to die.

He was taken to the hospital in the city where I now live, years later. At the time though, I barely visited this city. It was big and scary to me. I wasn’t sure I could navigate the roads and traffic to even find my dad. I was afraid I would have a wreck on the way. Miraculously, my mom and I made it.

My dad stayed in intensive care that night and my mom slept in a chair beside his bed. It was a long night. I finally got a few hours sleep in one of the waiting rooms. It wasn’t comfortable and the room was freezing. I was awakened by strangers shuffling around the next morning and staring at me. I felt really rough and probably looked it.

The tears were flooding out of my eyes in an absolute maelstrom.

I remember driving my dad’s minivan home to get some things at my house. When I was away from my mom, I just let it all out. I was in a city I never visited with traffic all around, and I remember just screaming at the top of my lungs at one point, and it all just broke loose. The tears were flooding out of my eyes in an absolute maelstrom. I couldn’t even see the road. I don’t know how I got home that day, and at that moment I really didn’t care if I made it.

I was absolutely mad as hell that this was going to happen!

In my mind, I then knew what was ahead. I knew it was going the be the most horrific thing I could imagine happening to the greatest man I had ever known. He did not deserve this! He was a good man. He was in church every Sunday, and prayed every day, and never wronged anyone. He was a saint. The worst cuss word I ever heard him say was cotton picking. This was just wrong! I was not just horrified and saddened to an unbelievable level; I was absolutely mad as hell that this was going to happen!

There were many long days to follow. They did tests and a biopsy. It was worse than they thought. They discovered that the cancer he had was a kind of cancer that is usually found in the lungs, but it had metastasized and spread to other parts of his body. They found cancer in his lungs and pancreas as well as his head.

The tumor in his brain had grown big enough that it was producing stroke like symptoms. That was why he wasn’t able to walk. He would eventually lose control over the entire right side of his body, including half of his throat, preventing him from swallowing food.

The doctor then told me the worst news. He said, your dad is not in a condition that we would recommend treatment. It would just cause him a lot of suffering and the result would be the same. He has stage four cancer and it is terminal. He said, I’m sorry, but we recommend you focus on quality of life, and hospice care is a good option.

Seeing your dad die like this is not something a son should ever have to witness.

It was a hard decision, but my mom and I decided that the doctor was right. The hardest part was letting my dad know. He was a man who loved life and family. It was very hard seeing my dad cry when he realized he was going to have to say goodbye. He was the strong one, not me. Seeing your dad die like this is not something a son should ever have to witness.

I can remember holding his hand many times those last few days.

It didn’t happen quickly. He was eventually released to a care facility close to my house where I could visit him. I remember some days I could hear him moaning in pain before I even got to the room. Some days were better though. His brother and sister were able to visit him. I can remember holding his hand many times those last few days.

Unfortunately, his sister died shortly after visiting him. She died peacefully at home after finding out her baby brother was terminal. I never told my dad she passed. I felt like it was more that he needed to bear.

His health continued to deteriorate and his quality of life along with it. The biggest issue he had was that he couldn’t swallow his food very well because half of his throat was paralyzed. This caused him to aspirate part of the food, which eventually led to him getting pneumonia, and that was what really killed him.

I remember the last night in the hospital in the old town where I used to live. My mom and I sat with him for the last time. His breathing was very labored, and they had him knocked out with drugs. I knew he wasn’t going to wake up this time. My mom said she couldn’t bear to see this anymore. I took her home and I got a call from the nurse saying that my father had passed.

Right after my dad died, everything seemed to enter a dark spiral. I’m not the superstitious type, but I sometimes wonder if good people keep the world in balance. I sometimes feel like they are the pillars that hold everything up. Maybe not physically, but in some supernatural way. After they are gone, the world is simply not the same without them.

I stopped believing in happy endings.

I wish I could say I recovered from all this, but I really didn’t. I’m not the same man who got into the van on that fateful day. A part of me died on that trip, and I stopped believing in happy endings. That being said, I would do it all again for my dad.

There is something I did learn from all this. When I broke down in that van, I remember this very powerful thought entering my mind. I remember thinking, I did not create this situation. I did not create cancer. I did not create death. If I created this world myself, I wouldn’t even allow those things to exist.

At that point it occurred to me that the amount of control I actually do have is microscopic. I can’t control any of the factors that caused cancer to become a reality. It is also true that responsibility follows control. You cannot be held responsible for something unless you have absolute control over it, and the amount of control you have over this universe is positively miniscule.

Forgive yourself and be at peace.

Stop blaming yourself. You are not the one who is holding all the cards. You are not the one with all the responsibility. It’s not your fault. None if this is your fault. It was all put in motion before you were even born. Forgive yourself and be at peace.

This was a hard one to write. I hope something good comes from it. Let me know in the comments what you think, and don’t forget to like and subscribe.