I will be turning 46 this summer.

That number tends to lean toward 50, a construct that is entirely foreign to me. I have this idea in my head of what 50 is, and I just don't seem to be conforming to it!

Perhaps because I am not aging. I am grabbing all the good things with age and thus far, my armor dings off the bad.

My beard has its color change (and I'd argue that's a good thing). That said, I have been dying it each month in 2024—oh!—my vanity extends further: with a daily shower for under a week with a Clairol product, I found that I could dye my chest hair! "Hi there, buddy! Haven't seen you like this in a good long while!"

This will likely change in the future as I would like to step away from purposeless vanity. In the meantime, I have a stash of various clearance-out beard dyes.

I feel natural and vibrant. Perhaps the key these days is to choose minimally-processed intake. Avoid those nicely wrapped presents from Mondelez, General Mills, Kraft Heinz et al.

1. You won't find Christmas nostalgia on aisle 9.

2. Pull Coca-Cola off your counter. You ain't ordering chocolate ice cream in a dish from George Bailey at the soda fountain.

3. Be that 3-4-year-old kid asking "why" to medications. Embrace boolean: run a while loop.

I consider my life: I am attracted to the idea of harvesting my own meat, fish, and eggs. I am also drawn to the idea of milking cows to separate butter from milk, and roasting imported coffee beans.

The whole world's gone caught up with civilization. Cities are cesspools of the dregs of society. We are not true to our identity. If I may paraphrase from The Lion King: we are more than what we have become.

We miss the simplicity of existence, what it is to be alive. Distractions and flailing attempts at falling coins—life is more than this! Look at our lives: can we do anything? We push papers around; we maintain standards and bureaucracy.

In my years of IT and Engish, can I say I did anything, from updating BIOS firmware for the impending Y2K apocalypse to my last interaction with a student whose momma saved him from retaking a class that he failed, what can I say I did that mattered?

Pushed paper, talked paper.

Like I did with my high school diploma, those things are as good as wadded up and thrown into the trash. This cardstock with a master's degree printed on the front is starting to look like good kindling...

Maybe this summer is a good time to review everything leading up to now. Or, it is a good time to concentrate on value. To breathe. To enjoy creating something with these two hands. To share a smile.

I once was networked into the system. While I first fell in love with it in 1994 in the back of a 70s Oldsmobile Cutlass headed toward a store-closing K-Mart in Germantown, Queensrÿche's 1990 Anybody Listening? cursed my thoughts:

Is there anybody listening?
Is there anyone that sees what’s going on?
Read between the lines,
criticize the words they’re selling.
Think for yourself and feel the walls
become sand beneath your feet

Social media has no appeal because it is not social.

These days, I check my email once every few days. There are no notifications in my life.

I'm not drawn to world events anymore. I don't want no geopolitical gobblygook! Don't get me wrong—I LOVE history. But current events are just mass manipulation. A bunch of "I'm right, he's wrong, now pass me the whole pizza."

We get all bent out of shape on things outside of our scope.

"I just wanna fly"

I continue...