Who own's the night

"What did you ask him"..... I say "who ownda Chief's"....

Okay, and what did he say

"Owwwwwwwwwnnnnnnnnzzzzzzzz oooooooowwwwwnnnzzzzz"

Ownership of a night out gets tougher as your age progresses. Here I am living large in a foreign land, (I don't care if its only Pennsylvania, I'm the only only guy at the bar without an accent, or with one, depending on who you talk to) going to school, all day, and having hours such that it is possible to hang out at the bar downstairs, and still make it to work the next day.
The hotel I'm staying at is more of a convention centre then a hotel, and so far we have had a sporting goods equipment, biker, and farming convention since I have got here. What does that mean? New people, and new boozing each week.
They say that youth is wasted on the young and they aren't kidding. I'm sitting here wishing I still had the ability to wake up after a day of boozing and not have a hangover that lasts into the following week. My liver, limbs, stomach, oh who am I kidding? My entire body is taking the challenge up as well as it can, but it is out of practise.
While I'm here I'm also doing my best to get fit. I have joined a gym and hit the elliptical every morning and then work out for another 2 hours in the afternoon. This is all well and good, except that living in a hotel and boozing 3 days a week, kinda puts back your workout a fair bit.

I have also gone clubbing for the first time in a couple of years. And I'll admit it, I'm loving it. Live bands playing music that I love and music went out and got fun again. LMFAO's "Miami Bitch" has me bopping my head and getting my feet going. I've also taken to enjoying country and western music and dancing in our hotel nightclub. I have found that I'm actually pretty good at the dancing part and its wa-hey-hey-heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyy easier to meet people when you are half cut and dancing, they you don't look like your a saucepan.

So the answer my friend is? I in fact own the night. That is until my body rejects me and tells me to give it back to the 21 year olds and thank them for letting me borrow it.

Back to the Front

The world is obsessed with being first. I watched a live comedy show once and a comedian went on about being next... why not? Everyone wants to be next, if you let somebody in front??? You are still next.... well? This has been the story of my life. 2 minutes to late, right behind for second. I have spent a scholastic career in sports and managed only 2 championships trophies, but wow, the participation medals are off the chart.

Once in a while, the sun shines and I get the full effect, IE, marriage to my wife, or my 2 fantastic kids, but with the exception of the 2 monkeys... everything else has been a hard win, and even that win usually came up short.

I tell my children that anything worth winning is worth working for, and with the right tools the work becomes lighter... and it is true to a point. But once, just once, I would love nothing more then to be that guy that just coasts through a course, or in a sport and still comes out looking like a rock star. Well, apparently I do get to do that, and needed my friend Vic to remind me. I'm a coaster at friendship.

If you look at my facebook page I have about 600 posted friends, and what drives my wife nutty about it is that I can tell you exactly how I know these people and what they mean to me. They are in fact my friend's and I tend to know a fair bit about them, even when I do manage to take a break from them.

I liken it to a pro golfer that has decided to stop practising. Ya, he is still playing pro golf, but he isn't winning anymore. Well? That seams to be me with friendship as of late, and now I think its time to start practising again.

My Grandfather told me that "you only need 6 friend's when you die... to carry the box out of the building"... now, he died a very happy life and had at least 200 people at his funeral. He could drop that bullshit all he wanted. I am sure that I am a social animal specifically through his genetics. He taught me that when you shake a man's hand to introduce yourself, you look him in the eye, grasp firmly and repeat his name when he says it, and you will never forget his name, and although they may forget yours, they will never forget you. This is in fact very true, not to mention, very professional of a man to do. He also taught me to never forget.... anything. Don't hold grudges(which I'm horrible for) but don't forget either, then your chances of getting bent over the hood of a car are seriously shortened. This is also very true. Vic was kind enough to point out my "coming clean" about my feelings in the halls of Caledonia High back in the day. And I have never forgotten how it felt to see her smile at me when I was playing football, or wave at me when I was working on my math homework as a front to watch her at track practise. Now why would I never forget these things being a happily married man?

Who doesn't want to feel alive? As childish as it may seem, it gives you a little boost. It reminds you that out there, somewhere, no matter how shitty things are getting, you are in fact loved. It may be a different kind of love, but it gives me the same thrill that any heroine addict gets from shooting up, and I am therefore addicted to it. I'm a friendship junky. This costs me very little except time, and the odd emotional twitch when one of these friend's are in need, but its also an investment. You get a return on this addiction. I can go to any first world country on our planet and I have at least 2 friend's (trust me, I researched that number before making the statement) couch's to crash on. And these are people that I would be shocked if they were to be uncomfortable with the request. It also insures that my family is taken care of. People who care for me, care for my family out of proxy.

This brings me to my last point. Family. In my opinion there are many stages of family. The ones you were born into. Ironically, my brother and I are well wishers at best, in that we don't wish each other any specific harm. My dad and I are tight and my mom and I are trying to piece together a relationship that was slaughter through one of the worst divorces I have ever witnessed. My Son is by far my best friend. Now don't get me wrong, I don't lay shit on a 10 year old that most adults couldn't handle with the lifestyle and work I have, but we talk. Alot, like alot alot. And usually about nothing, but its fun, and, therapeutic. My daughter is my engine. She keeps me running. She was designed specifically to suck the money clear out of my wallet and everytime she smiles, I want to buy her a car.

If my daughter is the engine, my wife is the brakes. She keeps me centred and never condemns. She has no problem backing me up and placing me in the right seat, but with an ever gentle process that keeps me manly. That then takes me to the second tier of family, extended. This one I can give or take. Not really a fan all the time, because there are family by marriage, and usually cause more problems then money concerns in a marriage, but, you accept them out of love to your spouse. Then we get to the fun ones... the adopted family. You get to chose these ones. And you should choose them to perform specific purposes. Vic??? Well, she keeps my self-esteem rolling. Every now and then I'll catch her giggling, or blushing at something flirty I say and ziiiiiiiiiing... it takes 10 years off of my Psyche. Branko.. he reminds me of who I was... which keeps me grounded. And Kevin??? Well, he is just nuts and therefore forces me to rise to the occasion, and these are just some of my favorites.

I don't have 1 best friend. You can often hear me referring to multiple people as my best friend's. Why? Because they make me whole and therefore are as much a part of my family as my children... but after I start practising... I can get better, and be a better person for being around better people. Its a circle... a carousel if you will, and I for one can't wait to ride it.