Being Positive is Fun, Being Negative is Funk

Posted on 30/08/2025 by Grumpa Joe

Wow! It seems like forever since I last posted. So much has transpired. The baby steps that I used to tick off have stopped and that sent me into a sunk feeling. I like to say I am in a funk when I am feeling depressed. In spite of all the positive activity toward my goals I have been stricken with a slight case of depression. My self-esteem is low, and that always is a sign of depression. Some little thing triggered me into a funk. The funk is over, I’ve survived and now it’s time to BLOG again. How did I get myself out of the funk? Well first there is work. Good hard physical work. Thank God, I can still do physical work. That meant that doing my physical therapy exercises religiously and without complaint.

I drove to Pets Mart last week and bought ten good size goldfish for the pond. We can now see fish from our kitchen window, whereas before, the little guys were invisible. Everyday, Lovely and I throw a handful of fish pellets into the water to feed them. I want to train the fish to come to us when we approach the edge of the water.

Another powerful tool for getting out of the funk is to pray. I pray every night before retiring. I coax my sub-conscious into bringing me only good health, great stories, and abundance. Included is a request to help a bunch of people who need it. In the morning, when I walk, it is  another opportunity to pray and speak to God. I can’t walk without praying. It’s a habit I developed over the last twenty-two years.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the endorphins begin to kick in and the funk begins to disappear.

Today, I remembered signing up for writing school twenty years ago. I had hoped to improve my writing to become as good as the really fluid writers on the blogs I visit. Man are they good. I admire people who can write their thoughts clearly, concisely, and in a completely understandable way . They amaze me. How can some writers be so descriptive with their words and others like me are complete klutzes. Do you believe this, I’m writing myself into a funk just by giving someone unknown to anyone an “atta boy.”

I am not a klutzy writer, I do well. Even though others can write rings around me, I must concentrate on the positive in my life and not dwell on the negative. The negative, “or dark side,” can quickly envelop the “id” and predominate. We have to learn and practice being positive every moment of our lives. Being positive is much more fun than being negative. Funk rules the negative person.

Filed under: Funk, Garden, Motivation, Writer | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Time to Eat A Sandwich

Posted on 12/10/2024 by Grumpa Joe

I gazed out the window to look at my once beautiful garden, which I was so proud of, and thought, eh. Winter is coming, and all the weeds and flowers will die, and the wind will sweep them away. Unfortunately, all of my weeds will be swept away, but my neighbors will be swept in. The bottom line is equal part ugly. I often wondered how long it would take for nature to reclaim a manicured garden. I’d say about three years because right now, it has been neglected for two years and it is almost natural. My idea is to hire a bulldozer to come and scrape the entire yard clean. That would give me about three months of pleasure until the weeds take over again. Guys like me belong in senior homes where there are no gardens to look after. If I were to go there, I would probably sit in regret for having left my independence and my weedy garden. My brother is in that situation. He sits in his retirement community in the heart of the city watching cars and busses flow past his window and dreams about escaping to his summer home in Michigan. He sits with as many pots of flowers as will fit on his window sill to substitute for the fabulous garden he gave up. His kids removed his driving privileges and car keys two years ago and he is left to cruise the hallways with his walker while leading a conga line of seniors shuffling after. He spends his hours spreading cheer and doing good deeds for his fellow senior neighbors. At ninety-three he still dreams of traveling except he is left to the mercy of his kids who still lead active lives.

Most of us have the small problem of a money shortage. If we had money, we could hire a full-time caretaker or two to drive us wherever we wanted. They would also manage our pill boxes, pack our clothing, and provide an occasional meal. All we would have to do is wake up, brush our teeth, dress, climb into the car, and instruct “Westward ho James.”

During the garden season, we would sit in a wheelchair and direct the caretaker to pull this weed, cut that branch, and plant the rose bush here. There are many people who live like that. My problem is finding caretakers who know the difference between a flower and a weed and, of course, finding the $300 plus per day to make it happen. Instead, I sit and watch YouTube videos and feel my muscles melting away. My fingers and hands begin to develop tendonitis from overuse of the keyboard, and I wonder what my options will be when I reach the next stage.

Reading fiction novels is an excellent way to waste my years, and I read at least one book per week. Once in a while, I’ll pick a political science book or some other non-fiction genre, and it’ll take me two weeks to finish because I fall asleep too often with the boredom of facts, figures, and theories of how to improve the world. After reading so many murder mysteries, I avoid them because they romanticize killing. The next more popular genre is love stories, they bore me to tears. What I do find interesting a is a good love story salted with many erotic scenes. They remind me of my ‘good old days.’ Biographies are good. They are intriguing, and I love to know how people spent their lives as compared to my own.

After twelve years of blogging, even this hobby is becoming tiresome. I overthink what to write, but my life is the same every day, and it seems I have nothing interesting to say anymore. Politics has been a fun topic, but hundreds of political people are writing about every political speech, tactic, lie, and activity of candidates. Who cares what I have to say? So why waste valuable time saying it.

In my younger years, I would take a bike ride to get my juices flowing again, but this year, I finally sold my trusty recumbent bicycle and have already spent the money I got for it. I’m running out of options to discuss here, which prompts me to go and eat a sandwich.

Filed under: Aging, family, Funk | Tagged: , , | 3 Comments »

Bathtub Gin

Posted on 27/08/2021 by Grumpa Joe

The hot humid days of August are in thier final throes, and I am enjoying it as much as I can. Although I stay out of direct sunlight which makes me feel like I am standing in an oven. The dichotomy of loving heat but hating the direct intense heat of sunshine makes me wonder what it is that I really do like. I know I like hot days spent in shade with a wisp of breeze. That is what I just experienced as I sat next to Joe’s lake reading a mystery novel. Do successful fiction writers ever write about anything that does not involve murder, mystery, love at the beach etc? Each time I stare at the large print editions on the shelf at my library it is loaded with murder mystery and love stories. Mostly they are by lady authors. I opt for male writers if I can find one. My latest ploy has been to select two books at one time; one will be fiction, the other non-fiction. Although I read the non-fiction books I don’t find them as enjoyable as I do the fantasy of fiction. My last fiction read was Blind Tiger by Sandra Brown. I couldn’t put it down. The story tells of bootlegging during Prohibition in Texas.

To my knowledge there isn’t a single male employee working in the Frankfort Public Library unless you want to call the contractor who cleans an employee. I truly believe that is the reason I see so many titles by women authors.

While reading Blind Tiger I recalled a story told to me by my father when I was still a boy. Dad needed to be a little drunk before he could relate stories from his past. One Sunday after a few highballs he opened up. It seems that he and Mom had a little moonshine operation going on as a way to make some extra income. It was during the Depression and Prohibition and before I was born. He never did describe the still, only that they had it in operation in the bathroom in the bath tub. Whalla the term bath-tub gin becomes a reality.

The tiny house we lived in had one bathroom on the second floor, and that is where he and Mom set up shop. One day in the bathroom as they were pouring booze into bottles they were startled by a heavy knock on the door down stairs. Dad snuck down the steps to see who it was. The stair case was immediately next to the front door and it was easy to remain unseen coming down. He saw a man standing at the door through the curtained window as he quietly descended. It took him a few moments to recognize that the man was wearing a uniform, a police uniform. He ran back upstairs to tell mom they were busted, and she hurriedly began to hide evidence. He snuck downstairs again and this time opened the door a crack and asked what he could do for the cop. Dad was worried that the cop would detect the aroma of fresh alcohol inside so he kept the door cracked. The policeman introduced himself and announced that he was selling tickets to the annual Policeman’s ball. Dad almost burst out laughing, but remained cool and asked how much they were. “Five dollars apiece,” said the cop. “I’ll take two” was Dad’s reply. Dad paid the man and he left. At that point in his story, Dad did burst out laughing as he told me how sweaty he got talking to the police knowing Mom was just a few feet away with a fresh batch of booze. Maybe that is why I enjoyed reading a story about bootleggers.

Filed under: Biography, Book Review, family, Humor | Tagged: , , , | Leave a comment »

A Time To Remember; My Time

Posted on 31/01/2021 by Grumpa Joe

A Special Group – Born Between 1930 to 1945

   Interesting Facts: If you were born in the 1930s to 1945, you exist as a very special age group.

You are the smallest group of children born since the early 1900s.

You are the last generation, climbing out of the depression, who can remember the winds of war and the impact of a world at war which rattled the structure of our daily lives for years.

You are the last to remember ration books for everything from gas to sugar to shoes to stoves.

You saved tin foil and poured fat into tin cans.

You saw cars up on blocks because tires weren’t available.

You can remember milk being delivered to your house early in the morning and placed in the “milk box” on the porch.

You are the last to see the gold stars in the front windows of grieving neighbors whose sons died in the War.

You saw the ‘boys’ home from the war, build their little houses.

4.2.7

You are the last generation who spent childhood without television; instead, you imagined what you heard on the radio.

With no TV, you spent your childhood “playing outside”

There was no little league.

There was no city playground for kids.

The lack of television in your early years meant, that you had

little real understanding of what the world was like.

On Saturday afternoons, the movies gave you newsreels sandwiched in between westerns and cartoons.

Telephones were one to a house, often shared (party lines) and hung on the wall in the kitchen (no cares about privacy).

Computers were called calculators; they were hand cranked; typewriters were driven by pounding fingers, throwing the carriage, and changing the ribbon.

The ‘INTERNET’ and ‘GOOGLE’ were words that did not exist.

Newspapers and magazines were written for adults and the news was broadcast on your radio in the evening by Gabriel Heatter and later Paul Harvey.

As you grew up, the country was exploding with growth.

The G.I. Bill gave returning Veterans the means to get an education and spurred colleges to grow.

VA loans fanned a housing boom.

Pent up demand coupled with new installment payment plans opened many factories for work.

New highways would bring jobs and mobility.

The Veterans joined civic clubs and became active in politics.

The radio network expanded from 3 stations to thousands.

Your parents were suddenly free from the confines of the depression and the war, and they threw themselves into exploring opportunities they had never imagined.

You weren’t neglected, but you weren’t today’s all-consuming family focus.

They were glad you played by yourselves until the street lights came on.

They were busy discovering the post war world.

You entered a world of overflowing plenty and opportunity; a world where you were welcomed, enjoyed yourselves and felt secure in your future though depression poverty was deeply remembered.

Polio was still a crippler.

You came of age in the 50s and 60s.

The Korean War was a dark passage in the early 50s and by mid-decade school children were ducking under desks for Air-Raid training.

Castro in Cuba and Khrushchev came to power.

You are the last generation to experience an interlude when there were no threats to our homeland. The war was over and the cold war, terrorism, “global warming,” and perpetual economic insecurity had yet to haunt life with unease.

Only your generation can remember both a time of great war, and a time when our world was secure and full of bright promise and plenty.

You grew up at the best possible time, a time when the world was getting better…

     You are “The Last Ones.” More than 99 % of you are either retired or deceased, and you feel privileged to have “lived in the best of times!!!”

Filed under: Aging, Biography, family, Memories, Warm and Fuzzy | Tagged: , , , , , | Leave a comment »

One Lonely Day = 15 Cigarettes

Posted on 08/09/2020 by Grumpa Joe

This summer has been wonderful, and strange at the same time. Weather-wise I couldn’t ask for anything better, but Labor Day weekend was a big disappointment. It felt like Frankfort celebrated a weekend off. For forty years we have had a Fall Festival on Labor Day weekend. This year it was cancelled because of COVID. We will eventually recover from this shock, but it may take a long time, like several years.

Suddenly, fall is sneaking in and the weather is changing. Temperatures are dropping rapidly. It seems like I just got acclimated to living in ninety degrees when all of a sudden today it was sixty. Next week we will have some warm days but in general the temps will swing downward. Fall is in the air, the leaves are dropping from the trees and changing color too. Flowers and plant life are withering from the recent drought. I called it sneaking in, but it seems more like a thud, and its here.

The weather change has me thinking about wintering in a warm climate. I haven’t had that urge for several years, but now I do. I need to get away and shock my life into something new. The one problem I have with this plan is that it is the stress of distancing that has caused me to want to seek out a new life somewhere else, and COVID will be with me anywhere in the world I might want to escape to. I have a lot of thinking and researching to do before I make any reservations.

One scary thought is that my friend base in Phoenix is smaller now than it was six years ago. Being alone will not help to improve my attitude at all. I read a short article published in September, 2020 issue of Departures magazine titled “Happiness” by author Eviana Hartman on how happiness affects people’s lives and one sentence stunned me.

“Happy people are less likely to catch a virus, and loneliness can be as damaging to physical health as smoking fifteen cigarettes per day.”

I quit smoking forty-two years ago, and it scares me to know that I can wipe out the benefits by feeling lonely. Loneliness is one of the biggest problems I encountered after each of my life partners died. It took a long time to be happy again, and I worked hard at changing my life in order to reach a happy state. So far, I haven’t reached happiness after Peg’s passing, but it’s only been fourteen months.

All I can say is that I’m working on it, and that is all I want to say about that.

Filed under: Aging, Biography, family, grief, health care | Tagged: , , , , | Leave a comment »

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