I have been trying to be a little calmer, and nicer. My wife has been practicing the power of positvie thinking ever since I have known her. It works really well for her. Nothing rattles her resolve, with the exception of my raised voice. I have been spending some time everyday making my internal monologue encourage me, instead of calling me a dumb ass. I try to imagine accomplishing goals, without being stressed. I build a picture of the success making people happy. I want to be a guy that gets things done without conflict.
"How's that working for you?" Asks my internal monologue.
"Be Quiet." I reply.
I am back in the music business. I have had a few meetings and calls with industry folks lately. My last foray in the business, left me with a lot of psychic baggage. I was not the best person I could have been. I want to learn to get things done without doing what the band used to call, "rearranging someone's D.N.A.."
I had a meeting in Orlando Wednesday and over all it went very well, but I was surprised how quickly I turned back into Ari Gold. I was talking fast and the evil was creeping back in.
Last night I was on a ride with the boys and I was determined to be patient with one of our newbies. He means well but his energy is usually expressed in bad passes, twitchy steering, goofing around at bad times....you know all the stuff I did when I was new and still do now. I tired to compliment him on his good points. He rode some tough sections really well and I told him so. Eventually he couldn't help himself and while screwing around almost locked bars with me, you know , like I have been doing to Big Worm for years. This lead to me completely unloading my whole week on the guys head, and a really long silence from the boys.
"Nice one!" My internal monologue says.
I had to make a call and left the ride early. I had plenty of time to watch the instant replay. I said "Dammit!" to the empty woods. An argument could be made that he desrved it or that I was having a crazy week but I am reminded of a quote from Calvin Coolige.
"I've never been hurt by something I didn't say."
Is it possible for the scorpion to ride the frog's back accross the lake without stinging him? I am not sure, but I have a new steamer trunk in my psychic luggage.
Go ahead and kick my ass in the comments, I've got it coming.
W.B.Z.N.
13 comments:
Its tough for a leopard to change his spots, or teach an OLD dog new tricks. You're still a wolf in Reeking Ball clothing, and all that. For what its worth, I had a little talk with the offender in question before the ride, yesterday. Conversation mostly involved me encouraging him to pass and aggravate you as much as possible. What can I say, I like the effusive colors of your fireworks. Now, dance puppets! Dance!
Hmmm... How should I respond.......
Baahaaaasssaattaarrrrd!!!!
My therapist thanks you for the business.
Does this have anything to do with Lent?
Give up something easy, like grind-core.
Alrighty then. W.B., can we get that therapist's number? I think the newbie may be in need!
ooohhh dealing with newbies I feel a (what did the other florida dude say) "buck up camper" post coming on.
But, life comes through to the wheels. Now I'm happy in the 9-5 world I swear to god the wheels spin easier... But when it comes low again you're only human after all
Fat Lad
I can't believe nobody latched on to steamer and physic. Dodo or math anyone? Like apbike and I always say, we speak in approximations. Wrecking Ball can be what Model Dave calls “abrasive’. But that was when Dave was on happy pills – and that was describing me. Either way, WB can’t control it – another one of this light switch things. He either wants to rip your heart out (terminator 1 style) or he wants to tell you how much he values everybody’s friendship. Nothing wrong with that. The good news is even when he’s running sandpaper smack over your open wounds; it’s all in good fun. I like your new blog, try mine on for size asshole.
I understand. My hate cannon blasts a wide swath.
What are all these removed posts?
Censorship on the Wrecking Ball Blog?
Anger is weird. I find that the older I get, the more I feel and the more I let it out. I thought old age was supposed to mellow you out. Not me.
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