Our Mom

Who doesn’t love their mom? In some regard, I’d bet everyone has love for their mother. At minimum, there should be an appreciation for at least having carried and given birth. Now, that doesn’t mean a lifetime of love and respect is earned, but making sure a healthy baby is born is a very difficult responsibility. My heart will always go out to those whose mothers couldn’t lay off anything unhealthy while pregnant. I’m forever grateful my mom realized that responsibility and made sure I was brought into the world healthy.

I’m not going to pretend my mom and I didn’t have issues. Our ancestors gifted us the lovely trait of stubbornness, which made my teen and early adult years very difficult for both of us. At times I couldn’t decipher between her love and anger, but I’m lucky enough for her to still be around in order to gain a full circle perspective. The years of tumult we put each other through have resulted in a great relationship with each other. She still embarrasses me and drives me crazy at times, but it’s still just part of her charm. Despite the rocky road it was, she’s come a long way from thinking I needed a “mommy” and has made efforts to understand me as a man with boundaries, instead of the boy she was raising and protecting. I am grateful God gave me a mother who made sure I was well fed and clothed and showed me examples of what to do and what not to do.

Some of my favorite foods are sour or fermented, and it's no wonder why. During my mother's pregnancy, she often would crave these same things, specifically fresh squeezed lemonade and pickled beets. How do I know this? My curiosity compelled me to text her while she was at work. Her eagerness to share with me showed through in the verbosity of her message and quick response. She described how her pregnancy with me involved patronizing a place that sold fresh squeezed lemonade every day on her lunch hour while working at a mall. She also remembered many restless nights that were soothed by a visit to the fridge that always had a jar of pickled beets. She even told me what she craved three years later while carrying my sister.

When we were old enough to read, she regularly brought my sister and me to the library for us to borrow books for education and entertainment. We’d fill a huge tote bag with books as long as we promised to read them by the time we had to return them. She made us laugh with her commentary while watching television and what she thought our cats were thinking when they’d do, well, anything. She brought us to a variety of restaurants on Friday nights before we’d go grocery shopping, and it was quality time we looked forward to.

Our mom has followed her mother’s example of selflessness and generosity, despite her not always having much herself. Her ears and heart have not been shut for my sister and me, even when it wasn’t easy for her. There were many times her maternal instinct overrode logic, like remembering things I totally forgot and not being mad at me for not having this post done for Mother’s Day.

Whatever life presented to her, she always did the best she could with what she knew at the time. A surprise gift here and there for no occasion other than she loves her kids is still something she does, and also gives us things she no longer needs or uses. My sister loves it when she gets a call or text from mom for a random shopping trip. They never tire of those adventures, especially their yearly trip to one of their favorite destinations.

What made this year’s Mother’s Day different for our mom is that it’s the first one she had to spend without her mom; our grandma. She was a sweet and special woman who showed us all what love and family are about, giving us a high bar to match.

No matter the company name on the top of any of her paychecks, or a signature at the bottom, the job she loved the most was also the most selfless; being our mother. Through everything all our lives, and there has been a lot, we’ve never had to doubt who we came from or if we were loved. And that’s why we love our mom.

Word To Ponder: Impudent

Impudent means offensively bold or offensive, insolent or impertinent. A second meaning from the 1700s and earlier is immodest.

This word made me wonder why some people enjoy the blunt nature of an individual. Sure, some impudent people can be entertaining while saying what others keep to themselves. However, there is a danger in rewarding those who don’t exercise sensitivity and proper timing when speaking. Some of them can’t be helped and won’t care because all they’re doing is “being honest.” Again, it’s all about a time, place, and if it needs to be voiced.

There’s a reason all the best art in the world goes through phases before completion. Some art can be improvised, but even improvisation is a time-honed skill that a novice can’t pull off consistently, despite any beginner’s luck.

It’s a shame more people don’t look at what they say as artful expressions. I’ve been blunt. I’ve been reserved. I've been around plenty of examples of both, as we all have. There are many more times I’d love to take back what I said without thinking, whereas I’m proud of when I held back for better words or time.

The majority of impudence, fleeting or chronic, is a lack of reflection. Like anything worthwhile, reflection will not be easy at the outset. Not everybody will gift themselves any benefit of reflection in order to understand how they’re coming across. The tone of voice or delivery and body language is also something that must be exercised and reflected upon. Sometimes it’s just as or more important than what you say.

It saddens me when complacency stays with someone. Impudence has the non-reflective connotations which can impel a person to feel they’re not accepted for who they are. I would suggest the impudent person isn’t being rejected for who they are, but are rejected for not having a strong enough sense of themselves and manners overall.

Unhinged circumstances are only enjoyable in small doses for those who need to escape the realities of life. Not limiting impudence to small doses requires some digging in for a person who cannot, or refuses to, confront tough realities or situations.

I encourage you to confront yourself and be honest about your words and actions. Self-reflection will help remove your own impudence, thus strengthening your relationship with yourself and others. It won't be easy, but I promise it will be worth it.

Word To Ponder: Colonnade

A colonnade can be a row of columns supporting a roof. It can also be a row of trees or other tall objects. While I certainly love the natural beauty of rows of trees, I want to focus on columns that support a roof.

Structures large enough to necessitate supporting columns are impressive. Whether it’s a mansion or public venue, such magnificent architecture is met with awe. The amount and origin of awe depends on the person.

We all know people plagued with house intimdation while inside homes that have colonnades and other grand architecture. Others factor in how close or far away they are to buy or finance such a home.

No matter if it's a structure with colonnades, a luxury car, or private jet, I’ve always wondered why something expensive can make a person feel small. The ability to afford something should have nothing to do with having or lacking confidence.

Too many people are indebted to their insecurities of feeling poor or not making enough money. Living within realistic means should be something everyone strives for. Believe me, I’ve been there and enjoys nice things as much as anyone, but the limits of reality need to be instilled and adhered to.

The allure of making lots of money to over-compensate has been going on for hundreds of years. This world has seen millions of people sacrifice large parts of their honor and dignity for the sake of having more money and/or material goods. Current society shows us that this won’t change anytime soon; I would be happy to be proven wrong.

Money is only as good as what you do for it, with it, what it’s bringing into your life, and who you give it to. Be careful not to give ownership of what’s intended to be priceless: your integrity. What truly is most important in life to be happiest is quality relationships.

Don’t be intimidated by anything that costs a lot of money, including something so large it needs colonnades. Instead, be your own colonnade by focusing on what you need and who you care about, and who reciprocates it without judgment or material expectations.

End Limited

Fresh, full.
Deep and pure.
Vast and endless.
Hollow yet optimistic.

Expanding, while grass gets further away.
Contracting while gathering all you get,
Then know how grass feels.

Perspire to attain, bleed to know, cry when shunned.
Intuit, forward and upwards.
Trim to need, dispel noise.
Fulfilling should always happen when achieving.

Grass needs tending.
Knowing which to prosper and which to brown
Needs auditing through roots and water.

You are the sun, shine always.
Your field will show your diligence.
Is it dense with value?
Or is it too big for what you’ve grown?

Means to be lived within are never long.
The best it can be is all, it can be done.
The more you learn, limits are realized, and the
True meaning of what you need comes through.

Your end is limited, but will live on through
Who sees you do the most
With the least.

Phrase To Ponder: More Than You Know

Today I’ll deviate from a singular word to focus on a phrase I’ve heard a lot in my life.

When life hands someone the grace of assistance, telling the person or group their help means “more than you know” rings a little odd to me. Is there a false humility or embarrassment happening? Why leave it to the imagination how far the appreciation truly goes?

Don’t be shy; be honest to the extend of your truth. Expressing gratitude with a mere "more than you know" can be misleading. Leaving it to that person's or group's interpretation is short-sighted and lazy.

Too often, there are examples of the opposite: getting hurt and acting out, letting that person know exactly how they made you feel and perhaps going over the line.

Emotions can be strong when triggered, but is not an excuse for dishonest behavior in either direction.

Word To Ponder: Natter

To natter is to talk idly, or chatter.

Small talk seems to have those who love it and who despise it. There are people who love to talk with strangers about the weather and other fluff topics. There are also some who prefer to save all their socializing time for people they are close to so they may have an interesting and meaningful conversation. The middle ground is mostly for those who can natter, depending on the day or their mood. It can be as simple as saying someone is introverted or extroverted, depending on the atmosphere they are presently in.

My relationship with nattering is very extensive. Being in retail for decades, I understand small talk is a must. What I’ve experienced as a customer is people who don’t belong in retail due to social anxiety or introversion, or those that fake their way through the day. Putting on an act is fine enough, but it must carry some authenticity otherwise it ruins the experience for that customer.

There are individuals perfect for retail and selflessly serving others, though I worry if they find the time to care for themselves. That kind of selflessness can trickle into real life, or they are already selfless and found a job where they can be the same. Either way, balancing self-care with selflessness is key and different for everyone.

When working with people, you are bound to see some of the ones you serve when you’re in public. Then, there is a choice you need to make. Will you potentially be the same hollow “work” version of yourself, or will you decide to just be yourself? At that moment, whatever image you put out there is a representation of the company you work for. None of us may totally agree with it, but it’s just the way it is.

Though nattering seems mostly present in the workplace, its presence is also felt in our personal lives, specifically our families. I’d wager there is a large percentage of people who say family is an obligation, which breaks my heart. If a person is only engaging in small talk with their family, is there really a point spending time with them? The idea of being around people you don’t want to be is such a waste of life. Sharing blood shouldn’t equate to anything more, unless a true bond and affection for a relative is there.

Pay attention when you find yourself nattering, and not able to open up to someone. It is because they’re a stranger and you can’t trust them? If you’re at work, you’re not paid to represent yourself, so nattering can make a customer feel welcome. Be mindful of how you’re coming across, even if this means you’re hearing things you vehemently disagree with. This also goes for your co-workers. Just be the best teammate you can be in order to get the job done. Then, you can go about your life with the people you choose to be with, who can see through whatever nattering you had to do that day.

Word To Ponder: Peregrinate

To peregrinate is to travel or journey from place to place, especially on foot. As a transitive verb, its definition is to travel through or over; traverse.

Old fashioned, old school, and the way things were. In some cases, the way things should still be. That is what the word peregrinate got me thinking about today. Going for walks to get some fresh air and feel nature under your feet is still in fashion and an important part of one’s daily life. Doing so without the distraction of whatever one spills into their earbuds can bring the best results of a walk: a wonderful sense of calm and meditation.

But, when was the last time you walked to go somewhere, to run an errand? Or, when was the last time you had no choice but to do it on foot? Have you ever been there?

Sure, some of us live in neighborhoods where our vehicles are an option, but walk to a nearby convenience or grocery store for a few items light enough to carry back home.

My grandfather was the only boy of his family. When they all reached an age to begin learning responsibility and discipline, they were taught different roles. One of my grandpa’s roles as a boy, starting at 8 or 9 years old, was to go to the store while his dad was at work. He bought the food his mother deemed necessary for what they could afford for dinner. The lone vehicle the family had was his father's transportation for his job.

My grandpa was to get exactly what was on the list and bring back the exact change. If he dropped any of the groceries on the two mile trek back home, he would find his rear end difficult to sit on, no matter how noble his intentions. If he deviated from the list in any way, he was to walk back and rectify it. With money being tight, he had to quickly learn math to make sure the cashier made zero mistakes. When a mistake occurred, he’d have to go back and make it right, even if he got back more money than he should have. It was a very loving but strict household that saw everyone graduate to disciplined adulthoods with high integrity.

About a year or two after doing the store errands, my grandpa got his first job to contribute to the household income. His father had a recent handicap that required special assembly to his car to drive to his job, which sapped what little money they had saved up. His father could still do his job despite the handicap, and it was the same meager pay.

My grandpa’s first job was picking weeds and planting crops for one of the farmers who had some land all over the city. He walked about four miles one way to work a 10 hour shift for ten cents and hour. Once in a while, when she deemed it appropriate, his mom gave him a nickel to keep. His pride swelled each and every time he earned money for his family and himself.

My grandpa grew up to become one of the hardest working people I ever knew. He was a wonderful man who never let anything get in the way of providing for his family. Working up to four jobs at once to feed and shelter them was only part of it, he was also providing an example to live up to. The same could be said for his wife, my grandma.

She and her sisters walked everywhere as kids, including their first jobs. Just like her future husband, she picked weeds and planted crops in the fields of the farmers in the rural area they lived. In her later years, even before she recently died, she was still able to proudly identify the specific fields and what her and her sisters planted. Their salaries were for pennies an hour and also went towards the tight household finances.

My grandparents were an excellent couple who had four great people that became positive contributors to my life and the world. My mom and her siblings have and continue to be the best versions of themselves based on the examples their parents showed.

The sense of hard work and value of a dollar was ingrained in my grandparents very early. The fact they had to walk to run errands and to their first jobs gave them something else. If they were driven by vehicles to their jobs and to run errands, I believe their work ethic and value of a dollar would still have been there. Without the determination created by walking those miles, a sense of humility and a desire for independence would not have been so deep. Each of them grew up in large families, so walking also provided a necessary reprieve from the crowded houses they lived in.

So, what about you? What can represent peregrinating for you? The examples I gave of my grandparents were taught to them at young ages and they maintained it for the entirety of their lives and passed it down to their kids.

As we age, we never stop learning. Thus, we must keep looking for and finding what can keep us humble, hungry, and to never lose sight what the value of a dollar is and how it feels to earn something.

Cold

Not by choice, survival is why.

No benefit of the doubt, need more currency

Than you can afford.

Need your debt as proof but I’ll still need more to

Begin to thaw.

Face value is a lost art, or at least my reciprocation expectation

Is lost on me.

Why should I, why you wanna?

My depth is far from shallow

Without a net.

This is your only warning.

Bring your heat

To balance my cold.

Word To Ponder: Nascent

Something that is nascent is coming to existence; emerging.

What has emerged from you lately? What are you most proud of that has come from your hands, your mind? Do you focus on what you haven’t done well or begun to attempt? How often do you ask yourself these questions?

What do you aspire to do and how will you get there?

Reflection is healthy but must be done two-fold, the good and bad. Be the boss to yourself you've always needed, be the employee to yourself you'd never hesitate to depend on. Too many of us are caught up in our parental subconscious trappings, so a business approach can give us a fresher and more focused lens. Putting yourself in these roles removes the ability to blame others for when you don't live up to your aspirations.

Though it is difficult not to overthink and dramatize in this process, allowing emotions to interfere will throw off ones' system to develop their goals. Again, a business approach can be a great pathway for achieving this.

A grocery store I worked at had cashiers maintain a high standard of items scanned per minute. A couple middle-aged colleagues of mine would have liked to become cashiers. The job carried a four dollar an hour raise, something they surely could have used. As I got to know them, they told me they thought they were too old for the scans per minute and the other responsibilities cashiering entailed.

The items per minute was a challenge to achieve and maintain for everyone, but it was not impossible. The store displayed each cashiers' rate every week and we were to take notice of how they were able to achieve the threshold and maintain it.

Those two let their perceptions of being too old scare them away from at least trying. The sad part is they were two of the quickest baggers and best multi-taskers I worked with in my decade-plus at that store. Their age never slowed them down within the ten years I worked with them; it's a shame they limited themselves based on that factor.

There are authors who don't become published or successful until close to so-called retirement age. These people didn't all of a sudden become great writers, they just kept improving their craft and never gave up.

Whether it's age or experience, don't buy in to any limiting criteria from yourself or anyone. You are never too old for a nascent idea to realize a life once imagined.

To Grandma

You always spoke of milestones. You always said there’s a first time for everything. Well, like usual, you are right. This time, on this day, you aren’t here for us to share the laughter or sadness for such occasions.

88. Would have been, but not.

With all honesty, I can’t say you were gone too soon. This family was blessed to have you for so many years. And we all would selfishly love to still have you here. As you would also often say, it’s not meant to be. For as many years as you reminisced about your mom, dad, and other friends and family through the years, we know you’ve been ready for quite some time.

For us, though we miss you; all those reunions help ease the pain of not being able to hear your sweet voice, to see your beautiful smile, or to get the pleasure of sharing good news with you. You were our biggest fan.

Today is your first birthday we will have to celebrate without you here on Earth. Gone are the days of reciprocal renditions of singing happy birthday to each other on our special days. Gone are the days of receiving the love you gave us the other 364 days of the year. Despite all that, we were so lucky to get many lifetimes of love to last us well beyond when our time on Earth is up.

I am so fortunate that technology will allow me to forever save the voicemail you left me on my birthday last year. Anytime I play it I can’t help but cry. It elicits so many years of everything you meant to me and the rest of our family. Fortune truly shined on me to have you as my Grandma.

I’m not sure how other funerals go, but my grandma got two eulogies for hers. My uncle and I wrote and recited our own eulogies for this special lady. It was the biggest honor of my life, and we both did a great job.

Since I can no longer call her on the phone or visit her anymore, I will publish the eulogy I wrote for her on her birthday today.

Happy birthday, Grandma. At the seat of the card table your friends and family have been saving for you, I hope you have gotten many Royal Flushes. I also hope you and Grandpa have been dancing enough to catch up on over two decades of separation. I love and miss you more than I can find the words to describe it.

For Grandma

My name is Craig Elbe, Florence’s first grandchild. Oftentimes I’ve called myself her fifth child as that’s how she made me feel. She simply was another mother. Her sixth and youngest grandchild, Connor, can say the same thing. Even if there were twenty of us grandchildren, I’m confident her motherly love wouldn’t be diluted.

My first memories with my grandma, I’m told, involved me being very spoiled. I was simply too young to recall the bumming around I did with my grandma and whoever else was with us. There were many trips to many stores and restaurants, with a lot of time and love and money spent on me. Though those memories are not vivid for me, the genuine love she had for me was instilled and never left me.

Being filled with so much love before my conscious memory took hold removed any impetus to do anything crazy when I struggled with my confidence as I got older. My grandma set the tone for how to love your friends and family. She loved and cared for us all so much to the point of us all having an agreement to not tell her of any bad news until the situation improved enough to tell her. The toll bad news would take on her was too much to fathom putting her through it by seeking the solace her love and support provided without fail.

Very early in her life, my grandma found herself to be the peacemaker. Seeing both sides to situations informed her deep sense of empathy. She felt everything so much more than most people. For example, any time she’d read a card or note from one of us, she would tear up on the second or third sentence that expressed love and gratitude to her.

Whether it was just her and me or a room of people, I always found it entertaining how she’d run through the progression of her kids and grandkids before she’d land on the person whose attention she sought.

My grandma was the epitome of a people person. She seemed to find a way to the hearts of many people she interacted with. Her spunky personality and sense of humor was adored by all, from social gatherings to anyone who cared for her at any type of medical facility she was admitted to. Her smile and laugh could brighten any small or vast space, and I could always count on her warmth when life was cold to me.

She had many clichés as punchlines for jokes or to blow off some steam, and it was quite entertaining how she’d say them all like it was the very first time.

My grandma strived to see the good in everyone she met and saw. It wasn’t always easy for her but the effort was there despite evidence some people didn’t deserve her good heart.

Telephone conversations with grandma were always a joy. Most of the time, just saying goodbye was another conversation itself!

Walking into her home was a guessing game of what she was cooking or baking or canning. To this day I’ve not been able to find anything that was as good as her tomato juice or pickles. Anything else lacked the simple but essential ingredient of grandma’s love. What the perfect placebo!

Her refrigerator and walls were covered in pictures of the family, and she always had film in her camera for more moments to capture. What couldn’t fit on the fridge or walls found homes in the various photo albums she accumulated over the years.

While my sister and I were in school, grandma would bring us home when our parents weren’t able to. I’m sure she feared the worst for us walking home, especially once I got to high school and my sister was still in middle school. But, she didn’t want us to be home alone either. She was always my reliable ride to work and home when needed, and was always curious who I saw that day that she knew!

I started playing drums when I was a junior in high school, January of 2000 to be precise. Most days after school I had lots of pent up ambition or anger, so I went downstairs to play my drums. After a few months of practice, I was able to play along to some songs. When I’d begin a playing session, I consistently used the song “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue to warm up.

One day, after playing for a while, I came upstairs for a break. My grandma asked me about that song with the piano part in the beginning. I had no idea she was even paying attention! After some thought I remembered it was the first song, “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue. Right then and there, she told me she wanted me to play that song on my drums at her funeral! I couldn’t believe she made such a request, but I agreed to it then. It was the first time I felt like I was performing for someone. From that day forward, I always had a special bit of nerves while playing that song, even when she wasn’t there. Grandma being my first audience member seemed very appropriate. She was our family’s biggest cheerleader.

During the summer of 2000, I put myself in a situation where I had nowhere to go. Grandma was nearing the end of her 60s but without hesitation took me. Well, she may have hesitated a little because of my behavior at the time, but it wasn’t apparent. Grandpa had passed away just over four years ago at the time, so it was just her and me. Our only argument was about the length of my hair. She was upset I wanted to grow my hair really long, when all I wanted to do was look cool playing drums with long hair. It took me some years to realize this, but my grandma was just trying to protect me from the judgmental world.

The two months I lived with her finally started to break my rebellious nature. I learned what respect was, and that how I was treating my parents was very wrong. We were close before then, but her taking me in forged a special bond. Today, I’m proud to be the man I am. Those two months with grandma were the beginning stages of me realizing what it was to be a man of principle and character, and she was the only one able to truly reach me during my rebellious teen years.

At that time, she was receiving supplements and other household items from a mail order company called Melaleuca. Also at the time, I became a huge fan of the band Metallica. I had some tapes of some of their concerts and would play them while living with grandma. I never expected her to like the music so I only played the tapes with her permission. Out of the blue, one day she asked me if I was going to watch any Melaleuca. I was so confused for a couple seconds till I realized she wanted to watch Metallica with me! I had no idea she was even remotely interested in such music, and I doubt she really was. She was just being supportive of what I enjoyed and didn’t want to hinder my enjoyment.

The grace and class of how she carried herself was something to behold. Sure, she’d have her sad or weak moments that she’d confide in her close confidants, but she did the best she could with what she had and knew at the time.

Her frugality and tenacity was on display during one time I was visiting with her. It was in her last months of living alone. She noticed her telephone bill went up by about 8 dollars, so she called them up to have them reinstate the previous sale she had before the price hike. By the time I arrived to spend time with her that day, she proudly told me she succeeded in getting the sale price back. She said, and I loosely quote, “It took me till the third person till I got what I wanted, but it’s going to save me about $100 a year!”

While grandpa was living, he and my grandma did the “casino tour” of Wisconsin the short time he was retired before he got sick and passed away. We always knew when they hit the Royal Flush when they would show up at our house with some extra money for my parents, and we knew they were on their way to our other aunts and uncles to give them their share.

Their generosity was apparent, and she continued the trend after grandpa died. I became her casino partner some years later, and she always shared with me what she won but wouldn’t let me share what I won. All she’d let me do was pay for our lunch or dinner.

When I’d be out and about with grandma to bring her to some appointments or at the casino, people would often remark about how nice of a grandson I was to be with grandma. That annoyed me a lot. I genuinely enjoyed spending time with grandma and it wasn’t obligatory. I just wish I spent more time with her.

My grandma was very selfless and never made anything about herself. All she wanted in return was to be grateful and not take her for granted.

Recently, before she passed away, I went to her old house, then her old apartment. I parked for just a minute in each place. I wanted to soak up, one last time while she was still alive, all the recollections of days gone by of all the fun we had. While the memories were very present for me, sadly, those places just lacked the magic once present when my grandma called those places home.

This day is a combination of sadness and happiness for me. We all knew this day was coming, and I’m very grateful we were given a lot of notice, so to speak. The last time I saw her was while she was still pretty good and remembered the good times we shared together. I offered my last love and gratitude. The last time I looked at her face she had the loving smile and grace we’ve all been privy to.

For today’s service, I wanted to do something special for my grandma. Besides the anecdotes I’ve shared, I chose this outfit instead of the customary black colors for a funeral. These are the colors of the house she called home for over 50 years, and was the place she took me in during that summer of 2000. This is my tribute to that time in our lives where we became closer and for what she taught me with love and by example. This jacket is also the last, or one of the last, suit jackets she purchased for my grandpa before he passed away. She gave it to me many years ago and I’ve never worn it till today, and won’t ever again.

As the years have gone on, I’ve not felt right about bringing my drums and playing “Home Sweet Home.” Instead, I’d like recite the lyrics of the song most applicable to her:

“I’m on my way, I’m on my way, home sweet home. Tonight, tonight I’m on my way. Just set me free, home sweet home.”

Grandma, now that you’re home with your parents, sisters, grandpa and the rest of your deceased friends and family, I want to tell you it was an honor being your grandson. The way you introduced me to people with pride, even in your last days while you struggled for air, meant the world to me then and always will. Thank you for everything, and until next time, I love you.

Word To Ponder: Ullage

Today, I’ve selected the noun ullage. It has only two meanings. First, it is the amount of liquid within a container that is lost, as by leakage, during shipment or storage. Is also is the amount, by which a container, such as a bottle, cask, or tank, falls short of being full.

It struck me in a sense that the lost liquid, container, shipment, or storage can be metaphorical for an array of life applications.

How does this relate to you? Is it merely letting life get too busy to remember everything, showing evidence of a life out of balance? Is it losing out on important relationships due to selfishly holding everything in for yourself, and the best of life passes you by and makes you its ullage?

Another interpretation could be selflessly retaining all the important priorities life brings without regard to materialistic leanings. With that approach, the rest becomes ullages and doesn’t hold that person back from living life to their fullest. That perspective is either instilled early on or learned the hard way over time.

There are other metaphors a ullage could be. The big picture is identifying what to retain and what to dispose of. Having higher standards will certainly help you know what a ullage is in your life.

No matter how big or small, deceptive or obvious, knowing what a ullage is and when to release it from your figurative container can’t be understated. It must be done before it overtakes whatever situation it will hinder. A ullage could be a great first impression and that’s what is remembered instead of the current poor follow through.

Let’s not forget the subconscious parts of ullages. What does a good or bad ullage remind you of, compelling you to keep it in your life? A high degree of self-awareness is always needed to minimize your subconscious controlling your life. Stay in touch with yourself. Starting and keeping a journal of any kind is a great way to begin, so long as you keep showing up for yourself daily.

Goals are great, but a system around a goal or goals is the best way to get there. The best system will help you to know when a ullage is present and when to let it out.

A great life is lean, so where will you trim the fatty ullage?

Word To Ponder: Blunderbuss

This word strikes me in a humorous manner. It is noun with two meanings. The first is as a short musket of wide bore and flaring muzzle, formerly used to scatter a shot at close range. The second meaning is a person regarded as clumsy and stupid.

Expanding a bit, this also got me thinking about self-awareness in the sense of following someone’s footsteps.  Many years ago, a son would want to follow in his father’s footsteps. At the time it was all they knew and admired what they saw the man they looked up to the most. But, that is quite limiting.

Simply having lineage in line of work has nothing to do with what someone is meant to do. There are also many successful examples of people who took over for their parents in a specific line of work. It could either be an entire company or just a job in the same company as their parent or a similar company. Sometimes that youthful admiration sticks, other times people just evolve into what they’d rather be, or what they are meant to do.

For clarification, When I say success, it’s not just monetarily. Success isn’t just about money, it’s about fulfillment and positive contribution to society.

I personally know people on both sides of the equation. Some embrace the pressure, other wilt under it.

Another example is a person who tests at genius levels at a young age. Almost immediately, parents feel compelled to thrust that child into advanced classes. They may highly suggest/pressure them to become a lawyer, doctor, or something else highly acclaimed with high earning potential. Testing high in academics has nothing to do with mental acuity and emotional intelligence. The entire person ought to be considered, not just what they can do as an employee.

I will always encourage people to figure their true selves out. This world has been full of too many people filling roles and surviving instead of being their best at being themselves and thriving.

A blunderbuss of a person shouldn’t  handle a gun, nor should the son of a politician come near politics when their heart believes in honesty and doing the right thing first and always. A girl whose mother was a housewife and a homemaker shouldn’t aspire to be the same when she has tremendous leadership skills and problem solving ability under pressure.

It’s not to say there isn’t such a thing or can’t be an honest politician, or an excellent housewife that can lead the charge and think under pressure. Those skills shouldn’t be limited just to what they have seen. Rather, thinking and expending the scope and scale of what is in your immediate perspective can yield wonderful and unthinkable results. The least you can do for yourself is try.

In the process, you’ll learn more about yourself than you knew prior. Even if you go back to what you initially knew and thought, it’s not a failure.  A failure is never a person, it’s merely an event. In the end, you will be that much better and balanced a person.

Words To Ponder: Several, Few, Many, Moment

Several a word defined in more than one way, but I want to focus on just one. It’s probably the most used meaning, as a number more than two or three but not many.

Since I was young, I always thought several meant a number around seven. And when I’d hear few, I always assumed about four. Through all its definitions, a few basically means a small number more than one.

When many is attributed to anything, it’s meant to be a large number of some sort.

When a moment passes by, it’s not what can be captured by a stopwatch. Instead it is just a brief, indefinite interval of time.

It has always bothered me why we use such words that aren’t definite. Of course, there are times and places to use words that aren’t exact. Too often though, I’ve noticed people embrace this wishy-washy language.

Is it fear of committing to something, or is it laziness? It’s worth looking into, and being more aware of, how we speak and express ourselves. I include myself in this, and understand how difficult it can be to nail down specifics.

We live in a click bait and “need it now” society that tolerates lacks of detail and follow through. Where did this lack of patience come from? Why can’t we take the time to enjoy the present and let what needs to happen on its own volition?

Recently, I saw a commercial for older folks dealing with hearing loss. My brain expected a normally fast commercial, but it kept going on. Then I realized the target demographic was for an older generation of people that don’t have limited attention spans. That was a small but profound reminder of how far we’ve fallen.

Life is way too short, so make sure to enjoy everything you’re given. Be present, while factoring in when it’s most appropriate to look ahead and look back. As they say it baseball, it’s a marathon, not a sprint!

Word To Ponder: Prententious

Pretentious is used three ways. First, it is for claiming that or behaving as if one is important or deserving of merit when such is not the case. Second, it used for showing or betraying an attitude of superiority. Third, it is marked by an extravagant or presumptuous outward show; ostentatious.

Here’s my relationship with the word pretentious. The first time I ever hear the word was from Lars Ulrich, Metallica’s drummer and self-described Metallica historian. It was during the week Lars was hosting the VH1 show The List sometime in 2000 where he said someone or something was pretentious. I had begun playing the drums earlier that year and Lars was my biggest influence to want to start up the instrument, so I paid attention to his words.

I was also entering adulthood and the meaning of pretentious had been in my subconscious all my life. Once Lars said the word, I didn’t need to look up what pretentious meant; the base word pretend was all I needed to have it resonate with me.

I’ve always been able to identify false authority figures and other forms of insincerity. It was there when anyone tried to exert their insecurities on me. There was a lot of verbal and mental abuse I had to endure when I was seen as an easy target or pawn.

Creating a false bravado in order to gain something has been around forever. Conning people of their minds and money, or both, will always be present. But why are there so many examples of pretentious behavior over the years? It doesn’t really need to exist, but yet again it does.

Needing a bad day once in a while to appreciate a great day is necessary for perspective. If you come across a person who says all the right things and sounds good, are they just trying to sell you on something they aren’t? Are they falsifying an image of what they want to be and/or what they want you to see? Or, are they truly as great as they are coming across? Is it too good to be true?

Assuming everyone is a liar or con artist until proven otherwise is no way to live. There is rarely ever a black and white situation. Live in the gray and learn as you go.

As I’ve aged, I have become sharper at recognizing insincerities everywhere. Social media is where a lot of it has migrated and is permeated, but it is just one of many current land mines of pretentiousness.

Staying nimble to what you know versus what you don’t is a solid solution. For the sake of survival on the way to truly thriving in life, you should attain a healthy ego and humility. It can be exhausting to attain and is more difficult to maintain, but is worthy of the sweat and residual equity.

Word To Ponder: Sexagenarian

A sexagenarian is a person that is between 60 and 70 years old. It is also used as an adjective as being 60 years old or between theages of 60 and 70 years old. A second adjective definition is of being related to a sexagenarian.

What caught me with this word is not so much ever hearing it, but wondering why it even exists. Or why is has to. I mean, really, does everything need a label? Can’t a person in their respective generation just be called that age or range instead of a label? It’s quite disheartening, and reminds me of something from my past.

One of my ex-girlfriends thought I was on the autism spectrum where Asperger’s Syndrome is. She and I had been living together for over two years at that point. One of her friends who is a therapist more or less diagnosed me with Asperger’s after a few couples nights out and observing me in other social settings.

My girlfriend was convinced I needed an actual diagnosis from a doctor who didn’t know me so she could understand how to “deal”with me. At that point, again over two years, we knew each other quite well and what made the other tick. She became obsessed about getting that label. We both knew the relationship was struggling and why it was. Labeling me wasn’t going to solve anything.

In short, we just stopped caring enough to meet each other’s needs. The mutual deprivation bred resentment and straw grasping. An Asperger’s diagnosis for me was her straw, whereas mine was feebly trying to replicate the early days when it was too late for her to care. We eventually came to the realization there wasn’t any turning back, and we simply grew apart after a grand total of three years. Thankfully, we parted ways amicably.

These days, there is a lot of generation bashing. Millennials garner much criticism that’s too unfair to pin on a span of time where the only commonality is when people were born.

Everything that warrants criticism starts and ends with culture; the culture a person was raised in and the culture the person puts themselves in as a free choosing adult.

All people come to a place in their lives when they realize their parents had to wing it and made the best choice they could at the time. When hindsight shows a better option existed, it’s up to that person to not resent their parents for any of that. You must take ownership of your life to live your best life, no matter the head start you were or were not given.

Some people can’t overcome the greatness of their parents, real or imagined, and become crippled by it and settle for a less than fulfilling life. Others don’t broaden their scope to see the bigger world that is there outside the realm their parents showed them.

Be careful what you judge and desire to label. My examples are just two of way too many. There will always be more than meets what you’re privy to. In this short attention span reality we live in, it’s never been more important.

It’s also never been more important to know yourself as best you can to withstand whatever judgement comes your way. Becoming something you’re not out of fear of judgment or influence of it serves nobody well, especially yourself.

Copyright © 2019 Craig Elbe·