And it couldn’t have been said better than by the Count himself.

“Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next-what makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome, “do your worst!”, for I will do mine.”
-The Count of Monte Cristo

This is part of what I think of when I think of certainty/security. As I believe I’ve mentioned before, the brain craves certainty.  Always wanting to know what is coming next, this must be evolutionary.  The need to know where our next meal is coming from, the safety of our family and friends is assured, and the location of adequate shelter.  As always, its about survival.

The human race hasn’t really evolved much past its caveman days, aside from the ability to not die from small pox and sporadically create above average television, but now in western civilization we simply look to different things to guarantee our sense of illusory certainty.

But the way I see it, the eccentric that I am, that the only certainty there is in life is uncertainty. There’s nothing we can depend on in this life, especially in this specific time in history.

Governments are unstable and corrupt, relationships are fragile, our health seems like a guessing game, and the afterlife…well, I guess that depends on which cult you belong to.

Life IS a ride.

And the most thrilling rides are those in which you’re not sure what’s coming next.

Why do you think people that have gone Skydiving tell you it was the most exhilarating rush of their lives?

Or why do people get unparalleled clarity and perspective from a near death experience?

Because the rest of our lives is spent living in a bubble we’ve formed around ourselves, sheathed in the lie that we know what’s going to happen tomorrow.  We convince ourselves that today and tomorrow is a certainty and slip into a deep coma of bordeom and complacency, pretending for the rest of our lives that we know what’s ocming.

But we don’t…. and while the conscious mind tries to hide, our brain knows what’s up.

So it goes looking for novelty, a way to feel alive.

This is where activities as unimaginative as watching a horror movie, sports fanaticism, or gambling become acceptable substitutes for life itself.

Why do you think people typically find so much joy in the early years of parenthood?

I hear this a lot (and I am sure you have too) from new parents:

“Oh, its incredible, everyday is something new.”

Of course it is.

I’m starting to think that vitality and happiness awaits us in embracing the uncertainty of life. Because maybe, if we can all find a way to accept life’s unfortunate randomness and illogical circumstances…

We can let go of the rest of the inate fears that seem to control and dictate the rest of the human experience.

The best we can do is look daringly into life as we say,

“Do your worst, for I will surely do mine.”

Finally, a ranting celebrity that I don’t want to see maimed by a wolf.  Sure, Sheen’s eccentic, but he was the jock on The Breakfast Club for chrissakes.  The guy has been super famous since the 80s.

That’s over 30 years of living in a world that most of us will never have any idea about. And no, reading InTouch magazine doesn’t qualify you as an insider. Although it might quality you as mentally absent.

Charlie Sheen was in Platoon, Wall Street, and then a bunch of other stuff along the way… and then 8 years ago he started starring in the now #1 comedy on television- Two and A Half Men.   This guy IS a celebrity rockstar.  Who also, lets not forget, comes from a famous family.  He’s Hollywood Royalty.

So why is it that everyone is so shocked or surprised that he’s turned out as an eccentric who thinks his life is just one “WIN!” after another… News Flash!  Sheen’s life is exactly that, one big win after another.  His life is just one perpetual celebration. Sure he’s a high functioning alcoholic, but I can name probably one hundred people that are consistently sober whose brains barely function at all.   Given the choice, I would choose Team Sheen in a heartbeat.

On the scale of success in which we actually judge each other,  Charlie Sheen is kicking some serious ass.  He spent more money by the time he was 25 than most people will make in their life times, and has probably seen and experienced things that married men who hide their porn addictions from their wives can only hope to even find online.   Though ironically, since everyone now knows which porn star he lives with, I’m sure her online search queries are through the roof.

Society seems to ascribe everyone to this life of mediocrity, and made it acceptable to lead a mediocre life.  And sure, there is nothing wrong, or mistaken to live a “normal” or mediocre life, but let’s at least be honest with ourselves.  There are some people out there that strive to live large!  These people try to live up to their own dreams and ideals, and sometimes its quickly or sometimes its slowly, but eventually most of these people pull away from the pack and its obvious who is living and who isn’t.

Like Oscar Wilde said:  “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”

I’ll admit, I know people that are truly living their lives. They dismiss the nonsensical goals and restrictions pushed on most of us by family or peers, and they aim higher. And contrary to popular belief, this Tiger Blood mentality (which Sheen claims he has) has absolutely nothing to do with money, it has to do with simply trying, and honesty.

We live in a society where a mass amount of people work in institutions that were founded and built upon the idea of easily replaceable workers, structured into a factory, a union, or a corporation, without many options except…

“Follow our rules, collect a stable paycheck, say what we tell you to say, retire, collect your pension, and go quietly into that sweet night.”

For better or for worse this is something I”ve never been able to do, normal institutions and most ideals passed down by my parents and grandparents have never made sense to me. Not because they don’t mean well in their advice or suggestions, but their era is a vastly different era than we live in today.   Much more is possible today than even 10 years ago, nevermind 20, 30, or 40 years ago.

We have to stop listening to our parents, or those we are told are in charge and take their words as gospel (or even taking the gospel as gospel).   Most of these “authority” figures haven’t a clue what they are talking about, they’re just passing down what someone else told them.  Just because a paradigm of thought made sense yesterday, does not necessarily make it true today.  Too many people are living their lives without thinking and just doing whatever is easiest opposed to what is needed to live the lives they expect of themselves.

I admit, I struggle with this each and everyday.   I definitely have the tiger blood, and its my goal not to live a life of mediocrity, but actually following through is not easy.  Getting up everyday and not taking the easier path, which may or may not include a 4  hour nap, an ice cream, and some funny cartoons is a constant challenge.  But its one I continually have to make in order to keep WINNING.

The hardest part of this process is just being honest with myself and asking,  “Where do I really want to be in X amount of months, years, etc?” and then I have to be honest with what it will take to get there.

Its like losing weight, you might want to eat a cheesecake, but you have to be honest with yourself that every bite of that cheesecake is either undoing, or slowing down your progress to your ideal weight.   And people that continue to take the easy (or easier) route for each and every decision of their lives will eventually find themselves in a place that even clever rationalization won’t help them with. Although ironically, some cheesecake might numb the pain (insert reference to north america’s obesity epidemic).

So let’s all try to avoid a fate in which we let ourselves down.

Because if we exist in a state of apathy for long enough we’ll begin to think its the way life should be, and its not. Lets be serious, those that really know you notices if you’re not living up to your potential, just like they notice if you do.  And I think too many times we think we are fooling everyone, but if you can’t fool yourself, why should the rest of us be fooled?

Life is about chasing everything you want out of it.  So if that means dumping/divorcing someone, quitting your job, selling your house, or just flat out starting to listen to the kid inside your head that is still crying out loud for you to follow your dreams and have some more fun…. well, then that’s up to you to do.

As for me, I am going to try to keep channeling my inner Charlie Sheen, stay honest with my own goals vs. the imposed goals of my peers/family/mediocre society and keep on winning until there’s no more time left on the clock.

Because if you’re not winning, you’re losing… especially if you’re not even in the game.

Good luck!

Yes, I am aware that critiquing parents is almost as frowned upon as critiquing the overweight and any part of the clergy but it needs to be done.  And at the same time you parents have to stop defending yourselves with, “You’ll understand when you have children.” That’s not a defense. In fact, your lack of  an explanation and the 5 year old you’re currently dragging by the shirt through Wal-Mart is further proof that not everyonewho can be a parent, should be.

Opportunity is not an indicator of ability.

When did we start equating parenthood with borderline sainthood, or that reproducing is blanketly a positive step in life?  Like in the movie, if a parent has a gun to their head their immediate defense is,

“Please no, I have 2 children!”.

Ya… aaaaaand?

Who’s to say those two children wouldn’t be better off without you passing on your undying love of the NFL and knack for getting out of speeding tickets?    I think this is just another case of human beings considering themselves a lot more important than they actually are.

In many cases, aside from the monetary support, if you manage to succeed in helping your child speak in and understand full sentences, I’m pretty sure YouTube could take them the rest of the way.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying parenting is easy, if anything I’d say its one of the most difficult jobs on the planet… just like being a neuro surgeon is a very difficult job. The only difference, is that not everyone with brain, a microscope, and a sharp knife can become a neuro surgeon.  If only procreation had such barriers to entry I think we would all be a lot better off.

I’ve had these views for a while, but lately I’ve just seen too many parents that simply put their kid on display like a new purse, or act like they should receive a humanitarian award for having unprotected sex.

Tell me if I’m wrong, but the job description isn’t simply to help prepare this new child to live in and understand the world that you grew up in, its to thrive in the world that they will grow into.

I had a conversation with a friend’s wife recently, who I think is a great mom, and we discussed how difficult it is to keep up with a curious infant. And what we came to conclude, is that human beings from birth to death are just trying to answer the question,

“So how the hell does this life thing work?”

Our curiosities begins with the necessities of eating, talking, listening, and moving, then evolves throughout our lives into more age relevant topics.

-Relationships
-Sex
-Work/Personal Fulfillment
-Understanding ourselves and our own minds

The list is forever changing and forever growing, but it all starts from when we were kids.

So after this discussion with my friend, I think it makes me even more crazy when I hear a child being yelled at or hit (this is the worst) in the mall and their only reasoning is, “No!”  or “Bad!”

Kind of like hitting a dog on the nose with a newspaper for wizzing all over the new rug.  Dogs cannot understand us, nor can we teach them to, but why do we allow this to be translated into successful parenting?

So, if you happen to be, or will be a parent one day, remember that you are the 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, permanent Earth tour guide to your offspring. What you put in, is what you will get out. And yes, if your child turns out to be a serial killer…it is absolutely your fault.

And if you don’t like (or understand) the job description, or just want something to show off to your friends, maybe you should get a Labradoodle instead.

I have been to other funerals that truly are a life celebration.  A video montage is playing with AC/DC in the background while people mill about reminiscing and telling anecdotes about the deceased.  These gatherings are usually a one case of bud light away from a party and that’s the way I think funerals should be.  Your closest friends and family gathering around to laugh about the time they caught you making out with the family dog.   They sure as hell couldn’t talk about it when you were alive so why not have a laugh now.

But Italian funerals…sweet jesus murphy, what an arduous journey it is to attend an Italian funeral home even if its for only 20 minutes.

First of all, you usually have to line up behind the forty-five other visitors just to get a chance to go down the line of never ending sorrow.  This is where the immediate family lines up in order of who was the closest in relation to the deceased so that visitors have a running shot at guessing who the hell everyone is. I always feel like the family is has a running bet to see which one of them can make the most guests cry.  The purpose of this receiving line also escapes my logical boundaries, because if I’ve been crying and grieving for the past forty-eight hours that’s usually not the time I try to get out and meet some new people.

I am convinced that I will say something stupid in the midst of any funeral receiving line.  Recently, a friend of mine’s grandmother passed away so I willfully subjected myself to his family gauntlet to show my support.  To the first two people I met I said, “Nice to meet you’, which immediately felt too awkward to continue you on with. Next I saw my friend’s mother and said, ‘Nice to see you’ which was decidedly much worse so I threw in a mumbled “Sorry” and quickened my pace.  I managed to make it through the next 5 or 6 people with either “Sorry” or “Really sorry” and then a quick shuffle step to the next person. When I finally made it to my buddy at the end of the line, I felt more like he was comforting me than vice versa.

In discussing the perils and awkwardness of the receiving line with him later he mentioned how his father had once attended a wake and wished the brother of the deceased a “Happy Birthday”.  This made me feel better about my equally lackluster performance.

But the big turd on top of the sh*tcake that is an Italian funeral is the open casket. This has never and will never make any sense to me.  At what point in history did showcasing a corpse like a freshly stuffed turkey become a good idea?  I guess nothing says closure like a plastic face and the endearing smell of formaldehyde.

All of the above work together to provide an extremely awkward experience. So I am always glad when someone lightens the mood with any sort of joke or pun, which in turn allows me to start making them myself.  I try not to be first to throw out the one-liners, but once the can is opened I am tossing worms by the handful.

As I walked into the funeral home with a friend of mine we noticed we were one of the first ones to arrive. My friend leaned over to me and said, “Wow, its pretty dead in here huh?” And now that the can had been blown open I felt it appropriate to reply with, “I know, its surprising, and people are usually dying to get in here”

Some people will certainly see this as disrespectful, but since when does being respectful of the dead include not laughing and pretending to be miserable?  The dead are dead, I don’t know why we try to make it more than that. They hopefully lived a good life and they died. All that us non-grievers and outsiders can do is stand by our loved ones to support them.  And in my eyes there is no better support than a steady stream of laughter.

A few days after the funeral I was speaking to my friend (lets call him Bobby) about his grandmother’s funeral and I mentioned some of the jokes that were said behind the scenes at the wake.  Not only did he laugh with me, but also provided one of the best stories of all.

Apparently, the day before the funeral Bobby’s entire family was gathered and discussing who the pall bearers would be.  His father suggested several men, one of which being Bobby’s 13 year old cousin who is built like a piece of a celery.  Bobby strongly objected to this idea and wanted to make sure everyone knew, “There’s no way he is carrying the casket with us. Do you honestly think he is going to be able to walk around with 300+ pounds of dead weight, ummm, I mean, shit, sorry, you know what I mean. He won’t be able to carry it. Sorry”

Bobby said all of his relatives had a good laugh just as we did when he retold the tale.

So that’s my lesson of the day: You can lend support to your friends however you see you fit. They don’t expect you to be as miserable and grief stricken as them.  But should you ever find yourself attending an Italian funeral, be prepared for the endless line of grief.  Put your hand out and your head down and hit the “I am sorry for your loss” button as many times as you have to until its over.

Otherwise, those funerals will suck the life right outta you.