Putting faith into practice

Since their start of the Walk For Peace in Fort Worth, Texas on October 26, 2025, Buddhist Monks (and Aloka the Peace Dog) have been walking on a 120-day, 2,300 trek to Washington, D.C. They do it to raise awareness of peace, loving kindness, and compassion across America and around the world. I think it's pretty inspirational. Check it out. On January 7th, they were in Edgefield, South Carolina.

1,200 miles away in Minneapolis, MN, the federal government murdered American citizen Renee Nicole Good. No awareness of peace. No loving kindness. No compassion. Just cold blooded murder. Now the federal government has denied the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension (BCA) access to evidence, witness testimony, forensics, etc. Without those tools, there will be NO independent investigation. The coverup has just begun. All that remains is a forthcoming edict from state propoganda media declaring no wrongdoing.

Following the monks gave me hope for a better country and world. Their message and their selfless devotion to such a monumental cause made me a better human being. It brought me solace in such an evil world (and Aloka is pretty darn cute). Then ICE agent Jonathan Ross unloaded a barage of bullets into the face of a 37-old single mother who was there as a Constitutional Observer. She was there protecting the rights of those targeted. She was putting the faith of the Monks into practice. And the government killed her for it.

What hope do any of us have anymore?

Facebook

I wish everyone who sees this a happy, healthy, and prosperous new year in 2026. There are MANY of the 277 "friends" I have on Facebook that only keep me here to enhance their statistics. How many of you have "liked, hearted, cared, etc. one of my status updates in the 2025? Agree or not, how many of you have reached out to me personally? I can honestly count the number on two hands. Do the math... only a third of you (9.23) would fit on two hands.

At some point in this world, I felt enough of a connection to invite you to my "inner network" or you felt compelled to invite me into yours. That's the way it works. A good number of you were industry collegues. Once my usefulness was exhausted, you ghosted me. "He's a nice enough guy, but if he leaves the business, I'll just ignore him." Oh look, he "liked" my family Christmas photo or "thumbs up" my most recent show. Yes, please continue to stroke my ego. I kinda remember who he was, but since he doesn't have any career value to me I don't care.

I get it. I wasn't a "friend," I was an asset. And once an asset has lost it's value, it can be discarded along with the rest of the garbage.

Happy Holidays... whatever you observe.

The Why Files may not be your thing. I totally get that. But I do want to share this Christmas message from AJ (btw... is Hecklefish on holiday already?) because I think it's important. It's been a pretty shitty year for me; but I'll likely dive into that later.

Don't forget the people in your life you take for granted. I know I can't shower people with cash these days, but a thoughtful card that was unexpected goes a long way. If you feel comfortable, let them know why you can't contribute financially, but that you still value and cherish their place in your life. In a lot of cases, I think this may mean more than a few dollars stuffed into an envelope.

Against All Odds... 30 years later

If you're new here, or if you don't remember 30 years ago, this song was burned into my soul for the rest of my existence. To this day... I can't hear it without devolving into a blubbering mass of tears. It is engrained into who I am. It sent me down a path, one that defined who I would become.

And if you don't know (or remember) why I carry this, you can refresh your memory here: The Last Valentine. Thirty years later, the scar hasn't healed. It changed everything, including today. I never really tried after that night. I was permanently broken. The "only one who really knew me at all" decided to "walk away" and all I could do was "watch you leave without a trace." 

There was no one after "K." There couldn't be. There wouldn't be. A young man (20 something) in the prime of his life, stumbles across the woman he believes deep in his soul he would spend the rest of his life with. They would share the joy of forming a family they could call their own. The house, the white picket fence, the 2.3 children, and the big back yard for the dogs to play.

All blown apart by a nuclear bomb that would spread its toxic effects for decades. Thirty years later these lyrics still ring true. "Take a look at me now, there's just an empty space." It stayed empty; so damaged it could never be salvaged.

Not Good Enough

I have never been good enough. It's not a hard concept to understand, but it is a difficult reality to accept.

In my younger years, I devoted a great deal of my time and effort into my career. With a Bachelor's Degree in Sports Administration, I set out on my course for a career. I eventually landed with an entry level position with a minor league hockey team in a newly formed league. My "title" was Director of Operations. That meant, since I wasn't coaching, sharpening skates, or filling water bottles, I was in charge of it. Paying bills, team payroll, player housing, team transportation, team doctors and medical, merchandise ordering and sales, media relations, ticketing and invoicing, etc. Way before personal cellphone technology was developed, that also put me in me charge of redirecting calls from my bosses "sister" to him (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more). I was young, looking to prove my skills, and working towards advancing my career. I was taught in college... get your foot in the door, work hard, learn as much as you can in all facets of the business, and you'll succeed.

How did that all work out you may ask. My in game public address announcer, who was a local radio news anchor, got hired to be the PA announcer for the local NHL franchise. The radio voice of the team got hired by the same NHL franchise and eventually became a Vice President in Major League Baseball. The beat writer from the local newspaper that followed our team was assigned to the local NHL team and eventually moved along to greater things. A sports reporter for the local CBS affiliate covered the team on selected weekends until elevating themselves to ESPN and worldwide recognition. In short, everyone not directly associated with me that I helped do there jobs got recognized and rewarded. I got no recognition. No accolades. Not even a simple thank you. I wasn't good enough.

My fate was sending out hundreds of resumes and hundreds of cover letters with no positive results. I kept a fledgling hockey team in a fledgling minor hockey league alive for three years. Back in the 1990's I worked for $1,000 a month with no benefits. I lived at home on the couch (thanks Momness). I was asked a few times if I could "wait on my check until next week" to make sure the players got paid and didn't strike. I chased the illusion, taught to me in life and reinforced in college, that if I worked hard enough I would eventually be recognized and rewarded. But I wasn't good enough.

I now realize that I had reached my peak in life in May 1989. I graduated from college with my future and the whole world ahead of me. I was in the best physical shape I had ever been. Then the whole world looked and said you're not good enough. I've been told this in some way, shape, or form the next 36 years including today. I truly am worthless.