I Saw a Motorcycle for Sale…

I saw a motorcycle for sale on my walk today.

The fog made it quite ominous while I walked. So much so, the fog was straight from a movie called, well…”The Fog”. It was the type of fog that the orange hue coming from a streetlight didn’t necessarily cut through the fog, as much as it just confirmed the fact as to how foggy it was.  As if there was a detective off somewhere wearing a trench-coat with a Winston hanging from the down pitched  corner of his mouth.  As he awaited to present his client, Annabelle 8×10 photos confirming her suspicions of her husbands infidelity.

I saw a motorcycle for sale on my walk today.

I don’t know what kind; A harley? It wasn’t a Harley, I don’t think it was a Harley.  Truthfully it could have been a Harley.  Maybe a Yamaha, or a Kawasaki.

Kawasaki sounds like a hybrid Japanese/Polish-American baseball player.

Catcher Paul Kawasaki, has power to all fields. Yet, the speed to get down the line and leg out and infield single with his slap like swing while he protects the plate on a two strike count.

It may have been a Kawasaki.  Or a Honda.  Definitely not a Suzuki.  That’s all the names of motorcycles I know.  It wasn’t the one with the sidecar I could fit into either.

I saw a motorcycle for sale on my walk today.

Why?  I imagine this was a man, probably a man, that wanted it more than he’s ever wanted anything.  You know that feeling?  I do. But I’m afflicted with some degree of OCD.  Not so bad that I have to tap my pencil 9 times, and spin my chair counter clockwise twice in my office before I start my work day.  Who has a pencil?

But my affliction causes great angst if I covet something and don’t have the means or even worse, I’m afraid it will go on sale right after I buy it.
I obsess, non-stop, google search after google search. Running into Target to look at it, mustering up the courage to ask the part-time kid named Chet if I can touch it.

He gives me an odd look after I word it that way.

But after all that, I buy it, just for me to feel empty inside after I finally have it.  Funny how the chase is always greater than the capture.  It also mean that we all need something to covet, to desire, to want, to need.

Or it may be because the thing just wasn’t nearly as nice as my imagination made it out to be.

I saw a motorcycle for sale on my walk today.

This man probably saved every cent he had, dying for the moment he could ride his “hog” cross-country with his friend visiting every bbq smokehouse on their way to the Pacific Coast. Unfortunately his nights of drunken sex would eventually impregnate the only girl that would sleep with him and now he’s a dad. The pause button was pressed on his cross country trek. He thought, maybe a year, two tops.  Little did he know it would be forever.

I saw a motorcycle for sale on my walk today.

Night after night, he comes home wondering if he should take it for a ride.  But the days of mindless labor while all he thinks about is how much he hates what is waiting for him when he gets home; those become exhausting.  That’s why he stops by the local Speedway and grabs a 12 pack of Keystone and a lottery ticket before he walks through his equally miserable wife.

She yells:
“Why don’t you sell that goddamn motorcycle?”

He barges out, going to the bar and stares at women he wishes he could have.  He wishes they had lost all taste in and inhibition in life just so they would give him  a chance to stick his filthy, uncircumcised, smelly penis in them.  Instead, he drinks, and drinks, until he drunkenly drives home and tries to get it up and have sex with his disinterested wife while dreaming of the girl in the white jeans playing pool at the bar he just left.

I saw a motorcycle for sale today…

Or, he may just buying a brand new fucking bike…

-k

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Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass: My Four Days with Tony. Tomorrow.

“I am not a product of my circumstances,  I am a product of my decisions”

-Stephen Covey

I hopefully will never know the feeling of being incarcerated for any extended length of time and then being “freed” into the masses.  Even though, there has been the occasion where I thought:

“You know, other than avoiding rape and get shanked; You get fed, workout, read, sleep.  No bills to stress over, no relationships to deal with. Well, unless of course, you’re somebodies bitch.  And let’s just call it like it is; I’m 5’6, 155lbs, and white.  I don’t know if they like lean little guys, but if so,  I’m a high draft pick.”

Point being, when you leave this world of nothing but positive, high octane, on Crack energy that you’ve come to absolutely adore and call home for the past four days and nights;  You’re not only coming back into the masses that is the hypersensitive year 2016 but, the masses that is still are wondering what the fuck?

trump

But you’re doing it with that chest bowed out like you have the tits of Sofia Vergara.

sofia-vergara-breast-implants

The President-Elect would say they are great because they’re the best.

Have you seen House of Cards?  There was this scene where Frank and his wife and their…If you’ve seen the show, you know where I’m going.  It was instantly followed by a hot and sexy as hell scene on the opposite end of the spectrum. Seeing the images of these two about felt like that.

 

Speaking of complete opposites, that is what it’s like to leave jail as compared to Tony Robbins, nonetheless, your apprehensions are possibly very similar.

How do you behave?

Should I talk all about it? Because God knows it’s all I want to do.

Do I book my next one?  I don’t want this feeling to go away and if I have another to look forward to, it will keep me positive knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Do I go full force after what I want?  Break out of my restrictions? Break out of my comfort zone and truly just say “fuck it”, let’s do this?

Fascinated by the mind of the entrepreneur.  The person that believes they are their own boss. Also making them ultimately responsible for whether they succeed or fail.  No one else.

That’s courage.

Many only give credit, and justifiably so, to those that put their lives on the line, literally, whether in the Military or Emergency Services.  However, the entrepreneur takes an economic gamble that could leave them on food stamps. But, it also creates the opportunity to provide them, and their family,  with fortunes beyond their beliefs.     Sounds like the lottery, ya?  You can’t win if you don’t play, right?  But here is the one thing that they can do that someone that plays the lottery can’t do:

Work harder, work smarter.  When you leave, are you motivated? Yes.  Are you inspired? Yes.  But, going to one of these things is like being exceptional at practice.  You could be a stud Mon-Fri.  But when it’s game day, if you shrink in the moment, well, what good are you.  Same to be said here.  I could have made peace with aspects of my past, created a plan for my future, and learned how to take action in my present to make it all a possibility. But if I went back to my old habits as soon as landed in NY?  I essentially went to a four-day music festival.

When you leave, you’re leaving an atmosphere that is totally devoted for those attending to not only be entertained but, changed!  Think about that.  Those in attendance, some paying thousands to do so.  Some flying 18 hours like a man I met from Amsterdam.  Some flying cross country and living off protein bars and salt and vinegar almonds.  What they all wanted to do was have the knowledge, the tools, and the courage to make a drastic change in their life.  All of us think that something is missing, that we are kind of looking for our purpose, our mission in life. But it’s this:

Is Curly waiting for you in the form of Tony Robbins to tell you just that?  In a way.  Since I don’t feel like bringing a herd of cattle to their slaughter to try to discover my true purpose; This has to do.  Essentially, what you find out is that you just have to let go.

Let go of a past that does not pre-determine your future.  Just because it’s your past doesn’t mean it’s your destiny.  Let go of the future that may or may not happen.  It’s life, ONE THING can happen in a heartbeat and it all will change forever.  It could be for the good, the great, or the catastrophic, but it doesn’t mean you have you live life that way.  It means you GET to live life that way.

The world is filled with  stories of cancer patients that wish they knew this was going to happen to them decades ago. Why?  The time they truly lived life, was when they found out they were going to die.

Remember that list of 7 areas of life? Physical Body, Finances, Career/work, Contribution, etc.  (I write etc. because I can’t remember the last two and am too lazy and too focused to get up and look)  When you leave UPW, you MUST figure out a way to go after the one you want the most.  For me, and even if you’re my colleague or client, you won’t be shocked when you read this, it’s my career.

So, did I take action when I got back? Essentially,  does Tony Robbins work?

In chronological order. 1) Set up an appointment to get my student film, oh look, here it is again!

 

Anyway, like I was saying, I had to get it prepared to be submitted to film festivals.  A process that took a lot more time and effort one would think, but a major step.

Second, I needed a coach.  We saw earlier how remarkably expensive the Robbins Research life coaches were.  Truthfully, I didn’t think I needed one.  What I wanted was someone in the profession of screenwriting.  My mother came through clutch on this.  She bought me the Screenwriters Bible by Dave Trottier for my most recent birthday. A moment that brought me to tears.  How this simple gesture showed that my mother believed in her son and his dream.  So, who did I contact to be my writing coach? Dave Trottier.  Had our session and it was spectacular.  Keep your eyes peeled for when I get nominated for an Oscar.

My mother obviously had to be thanked for that, right?

WRONG

She needed to be thanked for much more than that.  She needed to be thanked for all the sacrifices, all the chances she took, and everything she did, to the best of her knowledge, abilities. I put that woman through hell and back and though she hated me at moments, and I hated her, she never stopped loving me with every ounce of being. And I love that woman more than any woman on Earth.

And I also  had to thank my dad.

This phone call was slightly tougher.  It required the moment of:

Do your move: “YES!”

Say yes: “YES!

Say yes: “YES!!!”

And then I called.  I honestly don’t know if I did that before, but when we were done, I definitely wiped my feet and celebrated!

That call belongs to us.

The last thing I did, I wrote a six-part blog about the most personal thing I’ve ever been through.  I would have never done this prior to the event, and I thank you with all of my overjoyed heart for reading this!

I made the decision that I MUST do it, and then gained LEVERAGE by posting that I was going to write six of these.  It got a little tiresome, a little too deep, but at the time, it was all about the will to allow myself to be scrutinized.  Many don’t know that is probably the writers number one fear.  That people won’t like it.  You know what I think of that:

FUCK YOU!

Let’s see you fly cross country, get no sleep, walk on coals, have your tongue, stomach, and ass decimated by protein bars and almonds  Hug and massage Lou, cry like your a kid and someone just broke your Optimus Prime, dance to Hits Volume 112, talk to complete strangers about why dad didn’t love you enough, listen to people tell you why their dad didn’t love them enough, clap until your hands were bruised, worry about falling down a flight of concrete steps in front of thousands, lose your voice four days in a row that made you sound like a transvestite doing an impersonation of Demi Moore,  and then deal with Uber!  Then when you get back, you share all of this while annoying God knows how many on social media with your “look at me, look at me” posts.

And you know what?

If you walked through my door right now with a ticket to Unleash the Power Within North Korea, a plane ticket sitting bitch the entire way, a bag full of salt and vinegar almonds and said we have to leave right now  with only the clothes on your back.  I’d say:

I’ll drive!

 

Thank you all!

PS: I’ve also signed up with Date with Destiny in Florida, December 2017, and keep your eyes peeled for Unleash the Power Within, NEW YORK!  July 2017.

Dedicated to the Memories of

Quido and Emma Notte.

Joshua “Rocco” Thompson.

 

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

Screw the person, help the dog.

Have you ever been the “Phone a friend”? And no, I don’t mean Regis on the other end asking: “Keith is that you? Regis Philbin, Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.  You ever notice on that show that the person always answered on the first ring?  Little desperate.

The phone a friend I’m talking about, well…

The first instance I can recall was a classmate of mine my senior year in high school.  I went to a very small Catholic High School in Rutland,VT.  A city that lately has become synonymous with heroin and a Syrian refugee debate.  Poor Syrians, not only to they have to go to a place they are not wanted.  They have to go to Rutland too.

It wasn’t always like this though.  A thriving economy with not one but two General Electric plants.  Multiple factories that provided the nation and parts of the world plastics and wood.   Now, not so much.  But during 1996, booming.  Thanks Slick Willy!!

I was only 17 years old, but a friend was calling me because of my expertise in specific subject matter.  It wasn’t about homework, no one would ever fucking call ME for homework.  It wasn’t for relationship advice. I was better in science than I was in relationships and I consistently failed science.  No, the subject was way more serious than that.  She was calling me to tell me she wanted to kill herself.  Only weeks before, maybe days, I was released from Cheshire Medical Center in New Hampshire, where I stayed for 15 Days and 14 Nights.  At 17 years old, I was the one that answered the: “Cry for Help”.  I don’t know how many of you have had that luxury.  But, being handed that responsibility, in the same very room you attempted your own suicide attempt, only days after coming back there.  I will just say this:

I wouldn’t have had anyone else fucking do it!

Oh, and she lived.

Years later, well, I may have gotten that call again.  This time, I was too hungover to talk.

3 days later.

He didn’t.

Last Friday I get a text from a woman that I think highly of.  We met on one of the many dating websites I subscribe to.  I like to say I’m casting a wide net.  Realistically, I’m just desperate to hear someone hot say I’m cute.  We could go into a very deep psychoanalysis of this, but we will save that for another blog.

My friend, who we will call Faith 333,  is recently separated and has a 10 year old  boy.  Very attractive lady, nice body, a school teacher,  public speaker,  life coach and a writer.  The latter  still something that I’m trying to convince myself that I am.  See you in 3 months Tony Robbins!

Once Faith 333 liberated herself from her marriage and was officially labeled as “Currently Separated”, she  went on one of the many dating websites I frequent on a daily basis.  Now,  to add some credibility; It wasn’t even 2 days into my ex and I deciding to get a divorce before I already had this gorgeous little lady that wanted to meet me on Match.com  And when she did…Let’s just say she got to witness an actual nuclear meltdown from point blank range.  I officially became her dating site horror story.    Eventually, though, I met a girl, that was amazingly sweet but just as amazingly insecure.  We ended up sleeping with each other on the first date and the whole time I couldn’t get the image of my ex out of my head.  Another horror story. Then I  met a hippie girl I obsessed about, but that turned into the Three Mile Island to the previous Chernobyl.  Now, I’ve never seen American Horror Story, but I understand that there are 3 different seasons of it, each with a different story line.  This was my dating life.  Eventually though, I  went down to D.C. just to have sex for a weekend with a girl I was crazy about in another life. A very “No Strings Attached” weekend. But, like any addict, I hopped right back on the Merry-Go-Round of dating websites and  met a crazy Christian.  That ended due to one of those Himalayan Salt Lamps and a rabid cat.  Long story.   And my last fling came and went when I  met the next Senator of NY.  But this one ACTUALLY  became my girlfriend…  For a week!  No shit! Good thing that didn’t become Facebook official, so we can pretend it never happened.

Faith 333 on the other hand met someone that made her feel for the first time in only God knows how long!  Made her feel loved.  Made her feel sexy! Made her feel wanted, desired, coveted.  Unfortunately though, she became second fiddle to addictions like her ex-husband she was still technically married to. She was rejected by this man she met,  which in her heart and mind is her Scarlett Letter, rejection that is. Her and I went out on an official date, and I asked if there was someone else. I had a sense.  She confirmed that she still had feelings for this guy.  Why wouldn’t she?  Imagine you were in an incorrigible situation for YEARS, and when you break free from it, there is someone there that, you thought, swept you off your feet.  The funny thing about encounters like these, desperate enough, you will find any commonality to build upon.  Even though the strongest commonality here was the way she was all alone again, except for the love of her son.  Which was now becoming strenuous due to the horrible back and forth her and her soon to be ex-husband were subjecting him to on a daily basis. And child of divorce knows what I’m talking about.  No matter how much you try not to put the child in the middle, the child(ren) always are.  And typically, one will use the child as leverage.  Which is appalling, but true.  Desperate times call for desperate measures right?  Anyway, the night that Faith 333 and I went out,  my “Spidey Sense” for dating too soon, which I believe I am now an expert of, was freaking out.  I could tell this lovely woman was wounded, and she needed time to heal. But rejection is a son of a bitch…

Many of us know that feeling don’t we?  The feeling of wanting what we can’t have?  We will convince ourselves that it’s SO MUCH MORE than that!  I mean seriously,  I was married to a girl that was talking to other guys online about the possibility of  them meeting BEFORE we got married.  She even contacted the guy on our Honeymoon.  She even had phone sex with one guy.  IN OUR BEDROOM. After being told some of this and figuring out the rest and confronting her about it; You know what happened right after I moved out of our house?

I STILL WANTED HER BACK!

Because she rejected me.  And… I was dying to have sex with her just one last time.

But the text I got from Faith 333 wasn’t about that though.  I actually  mentioned why she did. Did you pick up on it?  He is an addict and alcoholic, and furthermore, and she didn’t know she was doing this, she was worried about him hurting himself after not hearing from him since the evening before.  A night she thought he had been consuming something. But she didn’t know this, but this was now the 3rd time in my life that phone rang and it may have had a persons life hanging in the balance.

And there was no one else that I’d rather have answering that phone call.

After some tears were shed on her part, and understandably so.  No one wants to be rejected.  True story: The last time I heard my ex-wife cry?  She was on the phone with me, still as my wife, and she was listening to me cry about how much I missed her.  She told me to stop crying.  Then I asked about the guy she said she was convinced she was in love with, the internet troll living in his mom and dads basement.  Or so I believe.  She welled up and told me he stopped talking to her. Hmmm…Maybe it was because he was a major reason why you wanted to leave your husband.  It was much deeper than that though, please see a previous blog post of mine.

She asked if I would come over for dinner, which I accepted.  Why?  I’m in a good place emotionally, and when I am, I love to help people.  Does it help that Faith 333 looks the way she does?  It sure as shit doesn’t hurt.

While I was there we enjoyed each others deep conversations, while revealing some of our darkest moments.  I’m not the type that goes on to social media and just blabs about my problems.  That’s what blogs are for!  No, seriously though, we have a connection.  We ended up watching that Tony Robbin’s movie on Netflix and talked until midnight.  I kissed her on the cheek and forehead to let her know she is loved, and wished her a good night.

The next morning I woke up in a pisser of a mood.  I don’t typically stay up past 10pm, primarily because I wake up religiously before 6am.  So, falling asleep at around 1am and waking up at 6am flat out sucks. Instantly something that happened at the end of my work day popped into my head, which did nothing but perpetuate my bad mood.  Then I got a notification on my phone, then another, and another.  Faith 333 thanked me so much for what I did and told me that she was going to do what she needed to.  I suggested the night before that she focus on her son.  Being a son of an ugly divorce, which she is going through, the child needs to be at the forefront of her mind, not a guy she was chasing.

So Faith 333 said she was going to do just that, focus on her son…Until, well, emotion takes a hold of your throat and then face punches you over, and over, and over, and over and over, and over…and when you think it’s finally done, it starts back up even stronger than before.  Why?  Because nobody wants to be rejected.  Remember my ex-wife and her internet fairy tale lover?  I would have taken her back in a second during the first year of our divorce, and probably portions of the second.  THAT is how powerful the feeling of rejection is.  It’s like an addiction to heroin mixed with cocaine.

She asked if she could come see me and go for a bike ride.  My bad mood from lack of sleep and work immediately dissipated.  I started to clean up, get myself ready, and get psyched for my ride.  It was shortly followed by her texting that  she got sick and can’t come.  Funny how your body reacts when your mind convinces you that there is a crisis happening.  Now, my bad mood came back with a vengeance.  I decided I would read which  didn’t last longer than two sentences.  My anger and frustration with everything I did, was willing to do, and was excited to keep on doing overwhelmed me.  So what did I do you may ask?

I got the fuck up.

Everyday, especially lately thanks to the nice weather.  I go for a walk first thing in the morning.  One morning though, I see a German Sheppard running around only a street up from my place.  Now, my childhood best friend had a German Sheppard growing up, his name was Apollo.   Appropriately named because he was as terrifying as the boxer in the Rocky movies and as fast a space rocket.  So there is a bit of a fear from adolescence that resurfaces when I see one.  Especially one that is free from his chain.  But I decided that day to keep on my path.  Not going to lie, I definitely turned around and started having second thoughts.  But as I approached the dog, I remembered a lesson I saw watching G.I Joe.

 

What I did do though was turn my hand palm side down and let him sniff the back of my hand.  He licked my hand and we realized we were both friendly and very beautiful.  A minute later I heard a whistle, turned around, and grabbed the dog by the collar and brought him to his somewhat grateful, annoyed, and embarrassed owner.

Fast forward back to the morning that Faith 333 “blew me off”.  I kid, because I will send this to her.  I began my walk on this beautiful morning and instantly I started feeling better.  Then a man in his Chevy Silverado pulls up and asked if I’ve seen a dog?  Told him that I haven’t but I did ask what kind?

A German Sheppard he said.  I quickly responded, without thinking of how douchey it may sound:

“Oh are you the same guy that lost him 2 weeks ago?”

“Yes”. he said with a soft tone that essentially said: “Son of a bitch, does this guy only walk when I lose my dog?!?”

Now that I think of it, I wasn’t douchey; Here is an idea, stop losing your damn dog?!?

Minutes later I saw the dog and we ran up to each other like two hippies tripping on acid that finally found each through the forest of people at a Summer Festival.  Seconds after that, I saw the guys truck and we got our dog back to his owner.  I continued on my walk with my head held high, my shoulders back, and an immense sense of pride.

Moral of the story or for some of you and what the fuck is the point of this for the rest:

The point is…We say things happen for a reason and some of us say “It is what it is”.

Fuck that!

When you’re feeling down, depressed, sad or are just not feeling mentally well: Get up, go do something for you, something for a family member. And if they suck, do in spite of.  If they suck that much, do something  for a friend.  And if you don’t have any friends, do it for a co-worker, and if they smell like 3 day old cheese, do something for a stranger, and if strangers scare you, JUST DO SOMETHING!

Because a dog could be lost without you.

A classmate may hate her life so much not realizing that she eventually can leave and be free of her mothers dark shadow.

A mentor may be lost and you may know the way out.

Or your friend calls, and because he’s not a good looking girl like the other two, you don’t answer the phone and then he’s gone.

 

Please trust me, doing something, no matter how painful it can be.  I promise you, it will never be as horrifying as the feeling that comes from doing nothing.
Live with passion!

-k