If you want to increase your success rate, double your failure rate.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Where Has Bushman Been?

Well, what can I say?
2016 was quite the year.  It's over and while I can't say it was a bad year it most certainly had its ups and downs.

For starters if you were a follower of mine and actually read this blog on a routine basis, you must have noticed that  my last post was back in July.

Life has changed for me.  It's that simple.  What was once important has taken a back seat, more like third row back seat.  My days of waking up with a hot cup of coffee and hitting the blog are all but gone, for now- and that's OK with me...for now.

I'll give you a quick run-down on my year of 2016.  Perhaps you will understand a bit better.
I'll just hit the big topics, I think that should suffice.

Dad had a major heart attack in March.  It was his life changer for sure.  He recovered, slowly but surely and while I don't think he is a 100% he has done well.  I was very afraid he would not get to meet his unborn granddaughter.  I was more afraid that I would lose my best friend and Father!

Corabella was born on April 7th.  She was early by a few weeks and was a bit small at 5lbs 8 oz but she was healthy and I was the happiest person in the world!

In May I was offered a management position at work and I accepted.  I began to work many, many hours.  It was pretty stressful at first but soon thing fell into place.

In June we lost my Father In Law, Roger.  That was very difficult and our family was crushed.
Roger was a great man and I still miss him very much.

Things began to muddle together at this point in the year.  Between the new job and the new baby everything changed.  All of the things I used to do were set aside to take care of my new responsibilities.

Between June and December we lost more family members than anyone should in a year.
My Grandmother Margaret passed away the day after her 70th wedding anniversary.

My wife lost two Uncles and an Aunt.

My mother Kathleen passed away in September.

My wife left her job for a job she has always wanted.  Her persistence paid off and while she took a pay cut to get her foot in the door it won't be long before she climbs up the ladder once again.  She is happy so I am happy.

In October my new job took a turn and I was moved to a different plant to manage it.  The current contract I was working on was winding down and another plant needed a new manager so I was elected to take over that one.
It was a very hard adjustment as the product was completely different, all new people and all new hours.  It is a fast paced, high production assembly line which turns out a vehicle every 13 minutes. We worked a split week.  I work Wednesday, Thursday, Friday for 12 hour shifts and then I work every other Saturday for 8 hour shifts in addition to the 3-12's.  So it is 36 hours one week and 44 the next.  While it may sound nice it took a brutal toll on me and it took awhile for me to get up to speed.

Dad and I had to cancel our Canadian fly in fishing trip scheduled in August.  Deer camp was also cancelled as his health was still not justifiable.  So for me the summer and fall was a blend of work, funerals and taking care of my baby.  Not much else was done.

I'm not bitter I'm just tired.

Winter is here now and things are settling down a bit.

My amazing little Corabella is the shining star in my life right now.  I love waking up to her smile as she is a morning person just like me.  We both get up around 5AM on my days off and we watch Mickey Mouse and talk.  Her smile is amazing, her laugh is contagious and I spend most of my time thinking of her when I am not with her.

So in  a nutshell that was my 2016.

Life can be tough but it can also give you some of the most beautiful things you will ever see.  It is how you deal with it, how you adapt and overcome and most importantly how you choose to spend every minute of it that makes you who you are.

There will be some changes coming in 2017.  I'm not a resolution type of guy so no need to bother with that.  Just some changes within that need to be made, some habits that need to be altered.

I wish all of  you the best in the new year.  Live it like it was your last!

-Bushman




Saturday, July 30, 2016

The Rest of the Moose Tale

Hello there,

So I see once again you have decided to subject yourself to the decidedly abhorrent ramblings of a self-diagnosed lunatic.  Well, lunatic might be a little harsh...I'll go with, madman, instead.

So last time we met I divulged all of my going on's for the months of June and July, which I'll admit, were pretty good months.  I did forget, however, to include the dossier on the moose.

You remember the moose, don't you?  Here I'll refresh your memory.  The Moose

So anyways, a guy walks into a bar and sits down next to a moose.  The moose looks him over, lights a cigarette and goes back to his single malt scotch.  The guy notices the cigarette is a Camel, no filter.
He gives the moose a questioning look on his choice of tobacco.

The moose, with beady, desperate eyes, gives out the most ear piercing bellow the man has ever heard.
Startled the man looks at the bartender.  The bartender shakes his head a bit and says to the man,"It's a moose, did you expect him to talk?"

"I wasn't sure, I've never seen a smoking moose before," the guy responds.

"Oh, he's been hooked on those things for years," he says, as he polishes another glass and hangs it on the wooden rack behind the bar.  "Ever since the old nag passed away he just sits in here and smokes, one after the other.  Never moves, never even drinks that drink...just smokes."

The man, apparently taken aback slowly exits the bar without so much as a drink or a punch line.



Were you expecting a joke?  Oh, sorry, it was more of a real tv story.  Like the ones you see on the Bravo network.

OK, I'll fill you in.

We meet the realtor or is it realtress?  She is late, we are early.  Introductions are made and we make our way up the drive to the little cottage on the lake.

As I crest the hill I check out the lake.  It is the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.  pristine waters, fish jumping as a bald eagle soars overhead.  Whitetail deer prance on the distant shore and a rainbow emerges out of nowhere on the far western end of the lake.  My heart stops as I drink in the serenity of the scene.

NOT!  It's a damn swamp!  Nothing but cattails, weeds and algae covered brackish water.  What is not covered in lily pads looks like the wastewater treatment ponds in Detroit.

Lake my ass!

So I calm myself a bit and I think...well maybe it's because were in a drought.  Yeah, that must be it, a drought.  Let's just take a look at the inside.

The realtor/realtress knocks and opens the door.  A wave of smoke billows out as we step inside.
I immediately set the baby down on the floor to keep her from the noxious fumes rising through the dust mote streaked air inside.

As my eyes adjust to the stained yellow light inside the dwelling I notice a small withered looking women sitting on the couch.  She sits there neatly with her hands on her knees.  She doesn't move much except for her eyes.  Her sad, beady, desperate little black eyes.  They dart back and forth across the breadth of the small confines almost as if she is watching a very tiny tennis match.

I looked at my wife, giving her one of  "those" looks.

The realtress introduces us and I'm a bit taken aback that the little, shriveled lady with the yellow tipped fingers doesn't move.  I've looked at a lot of houses for sale and in every one of them, the owners are not present.  It was weird.

The cottage was very small at one bedroom even though the listing states two.  The second bedroom was only big enough for a futon but you couldn't open it up into a bed, that's how small it was.  Off the back of the cottage was a screened in porch.  The porch was wide enough for a small, skinny couch but you wouldn't be able to sit on it without your knees touching the screens.

The screened in porch had a door to the backyard and the wonderful views of the lake swamp.  In fact , if you opened the door and took three steps outside of it, you would be knee-deep in black ichor like mud.

We took two steps backwards into the main living area of the cottage.  I looked up at the enormous moose head that dwarfed the entire room.  His nostrils were stained yellow and the hair that made up his once great coat was coated in tar and nicotine.  I thought if I touched it my hand would stick to it like one of those hanging fly traps.

I politely thanked the lady and asked her a few questions about the water levels of the swamp.  She said it is usually full of water in the winter time.  Great, I thought to myself, I could ice fish for some mud puppies.

I turned to leave, walking by the oversize box TV that was covered in large bags of loose tobacco.  The bag had a picture of a lady happily rolling her own cigarettes while a caption rose above her head with dollar signs floating in it.  At the top of the picture, it said, "Roll Yer Own and Save".
I wasn't sure why it was spelled YER, perhaps it was another savings I don't know but I hoped she had enough money left to afford a lung transplant, if not for her, then at least for the moose.

So needless to say it was a no go situation for us.
I wondered as we drove away if that moose would ever get loose and if he did I would expect him to head for the nearest bar and most likely light one up.

So now you know the story of the moose.

On a better note, I will leave you with a short video of my most beautiful daughter on her 15th week birthday!



Cheers and happy smokes,
-Bushman