After

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It’s Monday September 24th. I buried my Mother on Saturday the 22nd. I’m putting dates and if necessary, times to keep things straight for myself, and for you the readers of my blog. All of what I’m describing here has already happened.

Friday the 21st we had the viewing for my Mother. It was the longest two hours of my life. Every minute felt like an eternity. I just wanted it to be over. My legs were sore and stiff for standing in one place for so long.

My Father was overwhelmed by how many people that showed up to pay their respects. He really had no idea how many friends and family that he had. He had no idea the impact he and my Mother made on these people, this community of car lovers. He was hoarse by the time it was over, he talked to each and every one of them, told them stories about how they had met each other or some of the adventures that they had had with each other over the last two decades.

The girlfriend told me earlier that morning that her Mother was coming either Friday or Saturday, to stand in support with me and to pay her respect to my Mother, whom she had never met before.

I wasn’t holding my breath for my girlfriend’s Mom to make it, but I won’t lie. I hoped she would, and I found myself searching the faces of everyone in that receiving line, hoping I would see her. I found myself disappointed that she didn’t make it to the viewing on Friday.

Seeing my Mother in the casket… I lost it when I saw her there. It brought the reality of the situation home for me. It made it all too real. The mortuary did a fantastic job with her though. Many times in the past, at most of the funerals I have attended over the years, the body doesn’t really look like the person who they once were. They don’t usually look like themselves. My grandparent’s sure didn’t. But my Mom… She looked like herself. She looked like my Mom. I could swear that she was taking a nap. I could swear that she was breathing.

Many of my extended family showed up. My Mother’s sister, her brother, their children, my cousin’s. Same with my Dad’s side. It was interesting. We are not close to any of them. Haven’t been in years. There’s some bad blood there that goes back a long time. Guilt and culpability on all sides. My parent’s and I are much closer to some of the “car show people” than we are to our own blood. And that’s okay by me. I’m good with it. I have nothing against my actual blood relatives, they’ve done nothing to me in particular, but I’ve seen the shit that went on over the years. I’m just not close to them and that is what it is. You reap what you sow.

Saturday we had our final viewing for my Mom at 10 am until 11 am. My girlfriend’s Mom was the second person in line that morning. She showed up. It meant the world to me and still does. I introduced her to my Mom. I told her that I wished that they had met each other before that day. I wish that they had met while my Mom was still alive. She talked to my Mom for a bit and then I introduced her to my Father. They hugged and said that they were both glad to have finally met. My Father told her that he saw where my girlfriend got her looks. My girlfriend and her mother look almost identical. My girlfriend is definitely her Mother’s Daughter.

My Father started settling a lot of accounts at the funeral. He was diplomatic and polite, but if he had a bone to pick with you, you got to hear about it that day. My Aunt, my Mother’s sister, got an ear full. So did her brother, my Uncle. My Father didn’t spare his siblings either. They all got some. Right, wrong, good, or bad, he said what he needed to say, and what’s done is done. Personally, I don’t blame him. Most of the things that he said, needed to be said, and those that he said those things to, needed to hear them. Shit had been going on for far too long.

The closing of the casket was the hardest all of for me. I can still see my Mother’s face clearly. It was the hardest because I know I will never look on her face again. I don’t believe in a heaven, hell, god, or devil. I don’t believe in reincarnation or an afterlife. What people describe as a “soul,” to me, is what is our consciousness. When you die, that “soul” or consciousness gets turned off like a light switch. One minute you are there, and the next, you are not. Lights on. Lights off.

Watching the mortuary staff close that casket, I couldn’t catch my breath. I started to hyperventilate. I got it under control some how, but it came back again once we got the cemetery and got ready to move the casket from the hearse to the grave site. I got over it though. I had to. No other choice. I was a pallbearer for her and I needed to get her there. I couldn’t do that one last thing for her if I couldn’t breathe. So I kept on keeping on. Just like right now. I’m keeping on keeping on.

After the funeral was over, we all went to a close friend’s house and had drinks and food. Lots and lots of drinks. Lots of stories about all the adventures that my Mom and Dad have had over the years. Lots of laughter. Lots of tears.

I have to back up for a bit though. I’m getting a head of myself a little bit.

At the end of the service, I made eye contact with my girlfriend’s Mom. I went to her and we embraced and talked briefly. I told her how grateful I was that she made it out for the funeral to pay her respect and to show support for me since her daughter was out of the country. I told her how much all of that meant to me. I told her how much her daughter means to me. I think the world of my girlfriend. I love her dearly. I told her Mom that I wanted to get to know their family better. I wanted them to get to know me better. Her Mom wanted the same. She told me how much her daughter loves me and thinks of me.

I know it seems pretty “blue pill” and fantastical. My eyes are open. I know where this could all lead. It could lead to nowhere. It could also lead to somewhere. All relationships are transitory by nature. You could spend most of your life with someone and you’ll never truly know them because you aren’t them. All relationships end eventually, whether by a decision or a choice, or by death itself. All relationships last but a short time for the most part. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have them. By choosing to not have them because of loss, you are missing out on life. You are missing the point of all of it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all of those slogans and what not.

So back to the get together….

Dad wasn’t done with the what for’s there either. There was one guy in particular that got both barrels. I actually thought it was going to turn violent for a minute there. Luckily it didn’t.

I also smoked my first cigar that night. I’ve always been interested in what the big deal was, but never got around to it. Mostly because since I have no idea what constitutes a good cigar, I didn’t want my first experience to be shit because of a shit cigar.

I see what the big deal is now though. Scotch and a good cigar are awesome. When I was around 16 I got really drunk, like throw up, be sick, and pass out drunk on scotch. From that day until now, I can’t stomach scotch. Or whiskey for that matter. The smell of it alone makes me retch. Drinking scotch while smoking a cigar though, that I can do. Both mellow and enhance the other.

Sunday I pretty much stayed home by myself. This last week I definitely took a tail spin with everything that has been going on. Going to the gym became sporadic. Drinking became the norm for the week. Even junk food showed back up on the menu. Just for that last week though.

I talked to my Brother from another Mother who lives in Illinois Sunday night, I mentioned him in my last post I believe. He was checking in to make sure that I was doing all right. Just shooting the shit with him raised my spirits immensely.

This morning, Monday September 24th, I woke up around 8:30 am or so and talked with my girlfriend for about an hour and a half. We talked about her Mom showing up for the funeral, I told her what that meant to me. The girlfriend and I are in a good place. Life is good.

I called my job and told them that I would be back on Tuesday September 25th. Tomorrow. Life goes on. You got to keep on keeping on.

Thank you for reading these installments for those of you who have journeyed with me this far. I don’t know if I’ll be talking about this again or not. Right now, I don’t think so. I think I’ve said what I wanted and needed to say.

I get to close this chapter and start a new one. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet. It’ll be good whatever it is.

I Love You Mom. Rest easy. Thank you for being my Mother and bringing me into this world. I’m grateful to you for what you have done for me all through out my entire life up until now. Hopefully I’ll remember your lessons and carry them forward. I can’t live your standards and I’m not going to try. Your standards are your own. I can only live mine.

 

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Labor Day

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It’s that time of year again. Most, if not all of the summer vacations are over. The kids are back in school. While summer itself continues on for yet a little while longer, summer for most people is officially over.

It’s Labor Day.

Let’s not only make today about drinking beer, eating hot dogs, and basking in the hot summer sun, let’s take a really quick moment to think about Labor.

It’s Men that have created our society, our civilization. It’s the toil and sweat of Men that have made our dreams so far into reality.

It’s Man’s Labor that has given us our greatest innovations, our greatest technologies.

It’s Men that have advanced us to where we are as a people.

It’ll be Men that put us on Mars and other planets in our universe.

It’ll be Men that solve the mysteries of the depths of our oceans and of our planet itself.

Because that’s what Men do.

We Men are the idealists, the dreamers, the thinkers, the innovators, the romantics, and the problem solvers.

Labor Day to me is a celebration. It’s a celebration of what Men has created and will create in the future. It’s a celebration of where we have come from, where we are today, and where we will be tomorrow.

I give and say my thanks to my fellow Men of the past, the present, and the Men of the future. Here’s to many more to come.

The present is good and the future looks bright.

Cheers to you, my fellow Men.

As a side note:

If you find yourself in jail for doing something that got you there, realize that you’ll be there until tomorrow. The judge is off today celebrating too.

 

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Women On Social Media

woman placing feeding bottle on her lips

(And Why I Don’t Follow Them)

 

When I first got on the internet, it was mostly dudes and nerds at that time. Women were a scarce commodity. Nowadays, women on the internet, and specifically on social media, are everywhere. They are literally a dime a dozen.

Look on instagram, and what do you see? “Models” showcasing their “assets” with some flavor of the day quote. (You too can have it all, if you just believe in yourself.) Women in different yoga poses showing off their favorite attire.

Women flexing their muscles, showing off their abs. (You’ve come a long way baby.) Of course, let’s not forget the never-ending stream of selfies and duck face pictures ad nauseum. Women taking pictures with their food, women taking pictures with their “BFF’s.” Women sticking out their tongues and giving the world the finger. Women doing shots of booze and chugging down copious amounts of alcohol at whatever latest party that they are attending. Women taking pictures with their dogs or cats (aka their “children.”)

What are all of these pictures, what are all of these poses saying?

One thing and one thing only:

“Look At Me.” “Pay Attention To Me.”

Of course, men in droves flock to these pictures and the likes, hearts, +1’s, and comments come pouring in.

“You are so beautiful.” “You are so gorgeous.” “Fantastic.” “Can I message you?” “Can I call you?” “Want to go to dinner?” “I want to take you on a journey.” “Want to travel?”

I imagine it can be heady and quite overwhelming. By simply showing some cleavage, puckering up her lips, and showing a little ass, a woman can literally bring a man to his knees. And we as Men fall for it. We go for it. We press that “like” button. We make those stupid fucking comments. Damn near every time.

We enable these women to be the attention whores that they are. If there was no likes, if there were no followers, if there were no comments of “my god, you are gorgeous,” what reason would women have to be on social media except to maybe show pics of recipes and bitch about how there are No Good Men Left. (*cough facebook cough*)

That’s just one group of women on social media.

Group two would be the so-called Tradcon Feminine Wives. I say so-called, because the majority of them are just like the women that they supposedly detest. Feminists.

Really Tradcon women and feminists are two sides of the same coin. They are both cut from the same cloth. The only difference is in the packaging. The tradcons are “prettier,” for the most part. They may have longer hair, wear their makeup better, dress more feminine (ie dresses versus halter tops) and may generally have a more pleasant demeanor, but they are for the most part, one and the same.

It’s really easy to tell when you know what to look for.

Does the so-called “traditional feminine” woman tell you as a man, how to be a man? She’s no better than a feminist. She is a feminist as far as I’m concerned. Just sneakier.

Does she give “dating advice” to men? She’s a feminist.

Does she try to redefine masculinity? (Is her definition of masculinity the “true” and “proper” definition?) “A Real Man would…. A Real Man does….”

Notice that whatever definition of masculinity she gives, it’s always in her favor. It benefits her.

Feminists do the exact same thing. The only difference really is in their shaming tactics. Maybe not even that. Both get their beta orbiters. Both get their White Knights. Both are preaching the same message:

“Yours (as a man) is to serve. Yours (as a man) is to serve Me.

“If you only do as I say, if you just “man up,” maybe, just maybe, I’ll give you the pussy.”

“If only you do as I wish, then the world (my world, not yours) will be so much better.”

“If you would only just get with the program, then life would be better.”

And if you don’t?

Enter the shame tactics.

“You’re not a Real Man.”

“Wow, you are so bitter.”

“Who hurt you?”

Just like their feminist counterparts.

If you are lucky enough, maybe you won’t have to go through that nonsense. Maybe she will just “block” you. Or unfriend you.

You can avoid all of that though. Don’t follow them to begin with. Block them first if need be. Mute their conversations. It’s usually the same old shit anyways.

When I first got on Twitter, and facebook for that matter, I had a lot of women on my feeds. Lots of complaining, lots of selfies, lots of fishing for compliments, lots of telling men how to be men, lots of dating advice to men, and of course, lots of bullshit drama.

So I started unfollowing and unfriending. I stopped “liking” their posts. I stopped commenting.

Life got a lot calmer and easier. My feeds became more interesting instead of boring and a drag.

I actually started learning things.

Now my social media feeds are educational. I actually get something of value from them.

There’s a lot of talking in the ‘Sphere about “Saving the West.” I honestly don’t know if that is even possible at this point in time. But there is something we as Men can do.

Stop enabling women. Stop “liking” and commenting on their inane posts. Stop showing them support for their sub par selfies. Ignore them like you do when the ads come on television. Ignore them like the promoted ads you get on your social media platform.

Mute them. Unfollow them. Unfriend them. Block them.

If we don’t give them the attention they crave, maybe it will help slow the decline. Maybe it will encourage the woman to change her behavior. Maybe not.

Treat that pretty face for what it is. Another pretty face. They are a dime a dozen.

Make your social media platforms something educational and something of interest. Not just another way to kill time. Not just another way to release a gallon of jizz.

 

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