Battle. Adventure. The Unkown.

at work

get some snacks, this is a longer one.


The saw is splitting a twenty pound steal bearing. The loading doors are open for an eight foot shaft to be lifted in off a flatbed. The second hand makes its rounds one minute at a time.

I'm thinking.

A couple days ago, Joe pointed out something i've kept myself from realizing. This is how his comment was born:

While Joe, Chris, and i were picking up a sheet pizza from Michaelangelo's for a night with the boys (we eat a lot) we ran into Renee, who used to work at The Stork Club. She's beautiful, sweet, well-manored. All the good stuff. She and i had about eight seconds of eye contact as i neared the register. In that short amount of time, i had to decide whether to say something or just let the moment slip by and continue with the evening.

"What's up, Renee?" It was an easy decision. I wondered if she went through the same thought process.

It was a quick minute conversation. The classic, "so what're you up to these days?" Surface subjects only, neither party initiating depth. I hate those. On her last day at The Club i asked her for her phone number which i regrettably never dialed.

GASP. A second chance?

"Well, have a good night."

Um...Adam, what the heck are you doing? Ask her what she's doing tonight. If she's busy, get together with her another time. Give her your phone number. Ask her for hers again saying you were an idiot for never calling her and not taking this chance so conveniently provided would only prove that further. Say SOMETHING!

The drive home proved a solemn self-repremand. There was a conversation over it between Joe, Chris, and myself.

After Joe's attempted correction by calling Michaelangelo's to talk to her (she was eating there with people i assume are her parents...no one by her name answered when the woman at the register called out), i admitted, "I should've said something." Here's where Joe's comment comes in.

"Why?" Joe asked. "You wouldn't date her, you'd just be friends with her. That's what you do. How about i date her THEN you can be friends with her."

He threw a wrench at just the right lever.

The noise in my head generated by a cog moving into place and engaging a thought process, that has so far lasted three days, was deafening. Those gears have been aligned for a long time, just waiting for that last nudge. They got it. They're turning.

It's true. I don't date, I make friends (Heather being the only exception).

I play it safe. I take little to no chances. I run away. I give up. I let go (in a bad way). I leave stories unfinished.

For example:

1. The aforementioned second chance with Renee. I was afraid of "rejection", and what i'd look like to the guys and the other people in the restaurant.

2. The conversations that Tiffany and i have. Generally it's her volunteering information about the day's evengs, a particular situation or what have you, with me asking questions and giving an occasional observation (possibly elaborating). "Tell me something," she'll say.

I hesitate.

I have tons of stories and just as many, if not more, observations on life. But i fear they'll be found ininteresting and dull. There are little, unimportant details weaving my stories together. The smaller, seemingly insignificant sprinkles in life, to me, are interesting. Partly because i can remember them and partly because a burger, without toppings, condoments and seasoning(s), is just flavorless ground cow. I like to add those little bits, which i've been told and shown make my stories long and tedious. So i hesitate to tell them. I mean...those minute extras can get boring.

Here i can take the time to succinctly organize my thoughts without interuption or pause, which is largely why writing appeals to me. I don't speak the same way that i write. I am far more clear and concise here, though i still meander. Anyone that knows me personally can atest to that.

3. School. I have yet to choose a school and/or major that i am committed to. I'd go into more details on this, but i already did in No I Won't Be Home For Dinner.

4. Every time i pick up a hobby or activity (piano, guitar, photography, digging the rock out from the front bank, designing the church cookbook), i drop it when challenges arise. "You mean it's not easy? I can't just do it? There are things i have to learn?" I'll try to get a knot out for an hour or play with a broken toy until it gets fixed, but give me a challenge in a long term time investment and i'm gone. That's awful.


There are many more examples, but that'll do.

I don't want to play it safe anymore. I want to ask Renee out, tell Tiffany what makes me, me, go into a carreer and leave my mark, work through the challenges that arise. I want to drive a motorcycle (Honda VTX Retro 1300; silver, blue or orange). I want to learn how to cook, play the guitar, express myself vocally the way i do when i write. I want to build a trebuchet of good size. I want my ass kicked by love and to fall head over heels; to be enamored by one person for the rest of my life.

I can't do any of that sitting on the sidelines. Watching the game is safe, but playing it is far more gratifying. God needs me on the field. I need me on the field. You need me on the field.

Battle. Adventure. The unknown. A beauty to rescue (who is not the adventure, but a very integral part of it).

These are the things that make a man, a man.

I am a man. God has made me so.
I am a warrior.
I have domain over the earth (not people). God gave it to me (and you).
I am strong.
I am courageous.
I am loving.

I thought i had well realized all of these things until the Renee situation with the follow up of Joe's comment. Those gears have been pumping liquid thought all throughout my consciousness, and i understand now that i have much work to do. There are still many things to learn.

I do know that i'm making progress.

While canoeing on the Salmon River yesterday (Sunday), i walked in the muck at the botton of a small pond. When i was a kid, i'd avoid it at all costs. I would swim over it if i absolutely had to, but never put my feet in it. Sand only. However, yesterday i didn't mind it at all. I didn't even rush my way through it. I walked slowly and enjoyed its soft feel under my bare feet. Like underwater carpet.

That was a big step for me. I yelled out, "I've conquered my fear of muck!"

The cool thing was the absence of thought while walking into it. I didn't shudder at the sight or have to talk myself into it. I just did it. I didn't even have to walk in it. I wanted to. It was a good feeling.

So, who is Adam? We're working on it. Here are a few things we have so far:

I do not like potato chips unless they're kettle cooked.

I only like soda with real sugar in it, and even then not often.

I like storms.

I really like wind.

I love kissing.

I prefer straight drive over automatic. I like driving.

I can type 90+ words a minute.

I love music.

I like being outside.

I love to be with people, but i also value alone time.

I enjoy manual labor.

I'll keep you posted with more when it's discovered. Like dancing. Tiffany asked if i'm a dancer. I don't think i am, but i don't know that i've ever given it a fair chance. It doesn't appeal to me all that much, but i guess we'll find out. It's too bad i decided to come alive now, rather than several years ago. I know, it's better than never.


Well, here goes.