4 cats, and a dude

Posts by 4 cats, and a dude

Dwight – Five Years into the Journey

These are posts that were made on Facebook in the last few weeks. I decided to put them all in one place for anyone who wishes to read them.

A word of caution, if I may, some of this is raw emotion, some of the writing may be a little disturbing. We are talking about a journey in the aftermath of suicide.

While it isn’t about me, it truly is because it is my journey. The events, best I can capture, of what led to this and where we have been since.

Strange isn’t it….no matter what happens, no matter what trouble we’ve seen, no matter our loss…..the sun rises on a new day. Easy to say it’s a choice to make it better but it is difficult. Sometimes there is a fire that tells us to move and sometimes that fire is barely there and we have just enough energy to get out of bed, shower, do our daily life. But it is still a choice. Too many years of feeling guilty because nothing is done, but sometimes, nothing is good.

Tuesday will be five years since Dwight left us, he left a big hole, at least in my life. Lot of thoughts, he found peace but we will never know what he would have been, five years down the road. We do know for 29 years he left a huge impact on many.

Guilt?Sometimes. On one part of the subject, it’s not about me, but it is about me and the journey I have been on for five years. It’s a delicate balance in remembering and honoring him and keeping that legacy alive.

Five years. From where we were in 2019 and what was on the horizon – none of us knew, to where we are in this moment.

My story…….and, if it bores, triggers, gives you “why can’t he get over it” vibe, just scroll past this post and the multiple comment follow ups. Writing is one of my coping mechanisms and while it’s not “cool” (I never was one of the “cool kids”) for a “man” to show bare his soul, I must. (probably because the therapist ordered me to).

Journaling? I love to write, always have, in middle/high school I would have been the Bob Ross of writing, lots of meaningless drivel but it got me through creative writing classes (yes, we had those classes). Focus has always been an issue, I probably would have been labeled ADHD and given thorzine as a child. That had more to do with attention seeking behavior than anything else. Anyhow, back on topic, journaling and writing is cathartic for me. It helps me express my thoughts, quirky ideas, never written songs. I get the funny looks when I used to go to a certain establishment with my journal in hand. No worries anymore for them. Somewhere in a landfill is ten years of journaling after the divorce.

I get it, facebook is a very public audience, why here? In the words of the great Senator Blutarski – why not? Way past time for “men” to express hurt, grief, the down times, depression, if that makes me a p$$$y, so be it. I often wonder if that is one of the reason Dwight rarely came to me with his issues, did he truly believe I would tell him to suck it up and “be a man.” I was very much raised in that kind of spiritual environment. I mean what do you do when a “reverend” who is supposed to care about his youth group tells a kid that he is a waste of flesh and should just kill himself (not me, but I knew the kid this “pastor” said it to).

But this isn’t about my childhood or upbringing, as I always tell my younger brother, we were one wheel from trailer trash, I don’t regret that, makes you appreciate what you have as you grow older.

I always did my best to be there for Dwight and Nicole, even after I no longer lived with them. Swim meets, plays, concerts, you have to be a part of their lives in more ways than a weekly deduction from a paycheck. But that too is another subject for another day.

Parents need to consider the devastation that breaking up a home does to their children. I did what I could to make it work, I wanted them to experience a world that was new. Dwight was often my travel companion, as was Nicole. Vacations were important, seeing this great country, to Dr. Seuss it – oh the places we would go.

As he grew older, we saw less of each other, I saw a pattern that I have suffered with most of my life. Not wanting to let people down, even if it wasn’t good for me or my mental health. Guilt is a bitch if you let it be. It’s a choice, you don’t want to do or go somewhere, don’t, the party will happen without you. What you don’t hear doesn’t really hurt you, unless you let it.

Before I close this post, parents, even if your “children” are adults, be involved, not helicopter, but be involved. “Children” you are an adult but your parents would like to know you exist every once in a while. A simple text, DM or whatever means a lot.

And the story has to turn dark…..Abel Munoz died on November 17, 2019 (my thoughts are with the family as they are remembering events five years ago also). Abel was the owner of Rivals in Crown Point and Dwight was one of his DJ’s. Dwight had invested much time to Rivals, the were working on developing the back room (side room) into a small music venue.

Abel’s death hit Dwight extremely hard, it was a watershed moment, the last message I had from Dwight was how he was going to use it as a wake up call.

Five years ago today they were doing a memorial for him (Abel) out at Rivals. Dwight was giving a brief eulogy then they were going to honor his memory and life. I will never know what happened between November 17 and November 26 that took Dwight from vowing to get his life together and reaching an ultimate solution. Maybe that is what he was telegraphing to everyone.

Life is the daily grind, get up, go to work, short week because of Thanksgiving. Is he going to come over for dinner or have other plans? Dwight was working on an EP (new), he was also working up some new mixes, Good Things Fall Apart. Regrets – I should have reached out to him on those two days, but, you know, life.

“RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

You hear something and it resonates through your entire life

3:48 AM · Nov 26, 2019″

Then you read this Tweet and for the rest of your life wonder – did I say something, when he was a child, a teen, recently that brought out that statement?

Every once in a blue moon I go back and scroll his twitter feed, something I never did five years ago, all the warning signs were there, it is as clear as a sunny day.

Maybe I should pull those tweets and share with everyone.

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/LN8rQJA3M13bE1cC/

“I find myself saying, once again, that it was too good to be true. Nothing to do now but move on and hopefully find the next one.” Dwight Facebook Post – 01/15/2019.

His first appearance at North Coast Music Festival – the dreaded 1:30 opening act set. As soon as he started people came!

5 years ago, Dwight Noise shared a few words on behalf of the Munoz family and then did what he truly loved, music. Irony? This photo was taken by Alex Pierce. Three months later we gathered and lit candles in memory of Dwight

It’s a strange connection, I went to an event at Rivals, don’t recall when, it was in honor of another young man who died by suicide. I saw a picture, in the background was the card we handed out at Dwight’s memorial. It was my first experience with sharing his story.

And here we are, five years down the road, but let’s have a bit of reality and honesty, yes, he was hurting, yes, he was struggling, there are many who tried to help him, many who offered to do everything to get him out of a dark place.

I don’t know when he left Rivals that night, does it matter? I’ve been told that there were people who offered to be with him, make sure he was okay. At some point during this night, he deleted his Instagram account, he tweeted for the last time around 4 am. Somewhere around 9:30 am, he was sending DM’s on Facebook. Then, silence.

Five years ago, we were all about doing what we would normally do on a Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Some were looking forward to a long weekend with family and friends, carefully watching the clock tick down to quitting time.

At about this time, best I could recover, Dwight was having a DM conversation with someone, they were checking up on him, like many (at least I am told) do, he made the statement about how he would never take his own life. The conversation ended, best I could research is that this was the last conversation he had that day. It was only a few short hours before he was found.

Dwight in his various DJ moments. He was so proud to be a part of the 3Lau Afterparty set at Concord, July of 2019.

On this evening, five years ago, I was in the office, raining outside, saying have a great thanksgiving to my, at that time, boss. Not looking forward to the commute from Lisle. Looking forward to having Wednesday to get ready for Thanksgiving, get in touch with Dwight and Nicole to find out what their plans were for the day.

What I didn’t know is that he, possibly, was already gone.

The Tweets:

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 25, 2019

Candlelight vigil tonight. Saying some words. Doing some mixing after. Come if you are able to.

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 23, 2019

About to disappear again

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

telling my kids this was dwight noise

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

I need you

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

Yes my guy https://t.co/iMaJYfZ0jK

This Post is from an account that no longer exists. Learn more

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

Super big fan of government officials saying A$AP Rocky in congressional testimony

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

I probably need to eat food today

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 20, 2019

i hate this

Quote

paris 2

@solarishiltn444

Nov 19, 2019

do you take this e boy, in sickness and in clout to have and to hold, for doper or for less dope , to have and to vibe with from now until literally whenever

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 19, 2019

So there I was, sitting on the kitchen floor

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 19, 2019

Ope here I go fucking crying again

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 19, 2019

Terrible. Take a lap.

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 19, 2019

I love

@jordyn_tayler

and

@chelsea_elana

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 18, 2019

I’ve literally just stared at my screen for 2 hours so much for a productive night

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 18, 2019

This hurts so fucking bad. I said “love you man, I’ll hit you up” and 5 hours later there was nothing else that could be said.

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 18, 2019

I played this place when I was 22 and the owner came up cause I played Shots by LMFAO and said “stop playing n*r music”

Like SHOTS. BY LMFAO.

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 18, 2019

I’ve played in other states. I’ve played in other COUNTRIES for fucks sake. All these owners are exactly the same. Cheap. Close minded. Abel was not that.

RIP ABEL reposted

Meg Miller

@meganmiller02

Nov 18, 2019

RIP

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 17, 2019

God this sucks

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 17, 2019

Called me when he found out I tried to commit suicide just to talk

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 17, 2019

Called me from black sheep to talk about new plans for the lighting rig. He told me to come out. I said I might. I didnt. Here we are.

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 14, 2019

i am

back on

14.3%

my bullshit

85.7%

7 votes

Final results

RIP ABEL

@DwightNoise

Nov 12, 2019

It’s time to just work through this and put out new music

https://twitter.com/i/status/1190139734124830720

@DwightNoise

I close my eyes when I get too sad

I think thoughts that I know are bad

Close my eyes and I count to ten

Hope it’s over when I open them

https://x.com/DwightNoise

The rest of this evening, five years was a blur. Nicole calling hysterical, me driving, police talking, body removal, coroner ID, driving home, phone calls, need a drink,dms, what next?

Tears, anger, guilt, withdraw, numb

How do you cope? There is no blueprint for suicide loss, hell, most counselors have no experience.

This was where we were. Questions without answers. Unrelenting grief and sadness. The one question that never has an answer. Why? You get up, live the day, hope that despite the judging, scorn, watching “friends” walk away, maybe this voice can make a difference. As long as there is breath in my lungs, his story will not end. ;

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5iecXye-Cc

Dwight, Danny, Allison at North Coast Music Festival 2012

The candles lit again, for Dwight. A final trip to Colorado. Forever 29. I know I will see him again.

Aftermath:

Instead of getting ready for Thanksgiving for three, wondering if you should do it at all, except the food is ordered and ready for pickup.

Where do we go? Do we want a traditional funeral? Cremation with memorial visitation? Direct cremation? Where do we go? Who is going to plan this?

Personality trait – I can grieve later, right now I have to have a clear head, be strong! Still numb but things have to be done.

Few brothers and sisters are as close as Nicole was to Dwight, her birthday is Friday, do we want to try to make it special or let the cloud hang? Deal with the elephant in the room.

A sister lost her best and closest friend, a father lost his son, a mother the child she carried and gave birth, friends, musicians, co-workers, officiating community, what was once an active part is now a fading memory.

Why? There was no note, no statement, (at least to my knowledge), a decision made and acted upon that has left an emptiness.

He was vibrant, energetic, passionate, determined, you had to see him on stage, he had some huge moments – North Coast, Spring Awakening, Concord, being a signed artist, affiliated with Red Light Management, but spent most of his time at any local joint that would hire him – Lucille’s, Town Tap, Longshots, Meyer Castle, Martini’s, Rivals, Zodiac.

I forget who shared this at his memorial, he stopped at a place one night, their DJ no-showed, he grabbed his gear and laid it down for them, that is who he was.

We turn the page.

Post Script:

If you are the survivor, it is all about you, your loved one, but understand that people mean well and really don’t know what to say. I’ve been there, trying to discuss what I am feeling and having someone interject their thoughts. I have been there, trying to have a conversation about the situation and you can see the disinterest in the other person’s face or they grab their phone. The “if you need anything” crowd, who is never there when you need to talk.

If you are the one trying to comfort, they need you, they need you to listen, not try to make comparisions. I will flat out tell you, after five years, my experience is not the same. Even if your experience is with a suicide, my relationship to my son is not the same as yours with your loved one. And it certainly isn’t the same as any other type of loss. And for goodness sake, put your damn phone away, watch the body language, we pick up on any signal of disinterest.

For survivors, you will find out who are your true friends. You will see the judging eyes, if you are religious, you will see the dogma. It hurts but you learn that they are the problem, not you. I have been told stories of religious institutions that refused to perform or allow the service because of the cause of death.

We have created such a stigma around suicide that people will separate from you, they don’t want to face that it is real. Keep in mind traditional norms (think It’s a Wonderful Life) have taught generations that it is “illegal” or a “grave sin.”

I mentioned this before, there are no “stages” of grief for suicide. I have experienced all five within the same hour, early on. As time has passed and perspective gained, I have moved through each stage frequently. It doesn’t go away, it slightly heals but it doesn’t take much to rip it open again. Is writing this healthy for my mental state – yes, and no. It peels back the bandage but it allows me to gain strength from knowing that maybe someone reads this and it helps.

And, all of this has to be balanced with the living, his sister, Nicole. She loved her brother as much as any sister could, her life is turned upside down and you have to make sure she is reasonably coping with this, even afer five years. Making sure she is okay, as best as possible.

Post Script:

No one can tell you how to grieve, it is your journey, no one has been in your shoes.

Self-medicating works for a while, but it always wears off, or as Dwight called it Chasing The High – it becomes unattainable after awhile.

Only you can decide when the time is right to seek out therapy, it took me a few subtle hints and events plus an epiphany to get mental health counseling. Funny, we rarely discuss Dwight, we discuss me and what story I can tell to help others. That being said, it’s pointless if your mind and spirit are not ready to receive that help. When you are ready, find a good therapist.

Please understand, for the religious reader, church leaders approach suicide from the perspective of the dogma taught by their denomination. There are some who understand, there are others who are busy selling Dead Sea Scroll Steak Knives.

Mental Health access, affordability, insurance coverage is another topic for another day, but you have to find one that works with you.

For the survivor, it’s a process, it truly is journey, no one dictates how you take that path, they can’t because it is a journey only you can take. Maybe you have a Samwise who will walk every step with you, hold on to those people, they are guiding lights.

Post Script

For me, telling the story is important, I cannot let this life go without trying to help someone else who may be trying to cope or one who is considering suicide.

It’s raw, not as raw I could be, if you know me, I tend to be a lot more blunt but one has to be sensitive, sometimes a pillow is better than a brick.

For survivors – pay attention to the “angels.” I don’t believe in coincidences, there are some who directly, or indirectly, have been there to stoke that fire to make something happen from the experience.

Keep his legacy, his memory, alive through telling the story, talk about the journey. Whether it was the “angel” (yeah, I doubt he has ever been called that) who lost someone and asked what he could do to help the family, the many who stopped by a table at an event, those who have given time and resources to help us carry the message. The “chance” meeting with a family who lost their son, who happened to know Dwight, and their journey.

The encouragement when I wondered why I do this, no one cares (not true). Am I William The Angel who walks the world trying to reach just one? (Dwight loved that song) Sometimes the weight is heavy but it is my weight to carry, there is help and many of you have had read this are my strength. It’s little things that make a difference, you don’t have to be ever-present, the occasional check in helps, I’m a dude, I’ll always say I’m fine (because we have to be “men” and never admit a mental health weakness).

I’ve been blessed with a few great friends and family members who support what we do. That hole will never be filled, it may never heal completely but I choose to use my voice and shine a light on my corner. I may not be able to brighten the world, don’t want that, but I can share my one light in my world.

It is my light to carry and only I can do it. People are with me but it is still mine and I accept it.

Again, thank you Sami Suboh for giving me this gift.

As I have said every year, tonight is a big party night, I ask my musician friends, if you have a gig, take a moment, talk to your fans and remind them to take care of their mental health. As one who has been on the stage in the past, it’s a tough life, you have the crowd in your hand. They love you, in that moment. Then the show is over, it’s you, sometimes just you. It’s no secret that artists have a high rate of addiction, mental health struggles, and, yes, suicidial thoughts. Take care of your mind!

Backline exists to help artists. 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline is there to listen.

All I ask is take one moment and remind your fans, and you, to take care of your mind.

In the aftermath, we discussed what to do, I can’t recall which day Nicole and I went to the Funeral Home to arrange for his remains. None of us wanted a visitation and funeral, a simple memorial would be fine.

Being the holiday season with much going on, we decided to wait until after the holidays to have a celebration of life. At the time of his passing, I was about two weeks from knee surgery, and we wanted to give people the opportunity to pay their respects without the crush of holiday.

We did clean out most of his belongings from where he lived, I secured all of his hard drives (still have one I can’t access), and music. I wanted to eventually get all out of it released for people to hear how talented he was. PS – if anyone knows what happened to his custom made jacket – I know Nicole would love to have it, no questions asked.

Rachel Franklin is a saint, I can’t imagine how she has handled all of this – it’s not an enviable position!

After a month or so, Nicole and I agreed we had to quit procrastinating and do something in his memory. January seemed to be a good time, it was long, yes, but we wanted to give everyone a chance to share their memories of him.

Little did we know that in another month COVID would come along and shake everything up. Knowing his state of mind, I am not sure if Dwight would have made it through the shutdowns. When your financial existence depends on gigs and that is taken away, plus all of the other financial pressures he had, not sure he would have survived without a lot of support and help.

One benefit of being “furloughed” was a lot of time to research, take online training and classes, how do I make a difference? And since it was COVID time, most of it was free of charge. The spark had become lit.

Interesting though, every year I dread taking this literary journey and tie up facebook feeds, it does pull me down as I recount events leading up to his suicide. Then, as I start discussing where I am going with it, I get uplifted because I know that someone needed to read it.

I won’t lie and say I haven’t had tough times, every day is a challenge. I hit bottom, or even below bottom, about a year ago, yes, I had thoughts. I also know that I have a mission to keep his memory alive, and to do everything I can to help, even if it is just one.

The journey continues, and I will recount much of that in the coming days, it is a story of how I have dealt with suicide.

Donate to Silent Noise, Inc!

AfterParty Dwight Noise

1761480000

days

hours minutes seconds

until

Fright Noise IV – The Noise Strikes Back

Until I can figure out how to change it, my apologies for the footer – Photos are NOT all by Barry Poole, many were provided from others, culled from Facebook and other Social Media outlets. I don’t “poach” other people’s work and call it mine.

They told me to write a book…..so I did.

Side thought - I'm sitting outside, mosquitos biting my ass.

I suppose we have to start here, who am I and what justifies me thinking I have the wherewithal to put these stories on paper.

What experiences can I possibly have to cause a person to pick it up and read?

Side thought – my handwriting is a jumbled mess……did I at least wear matching shoes today?

Why do I switch from cursive to long hand? Probably because it was the only class I failed in elementary school, newly built Martin Luther King school in beautiful Widefield, Colorado, was cursive. Now it’s not taught.

Side thought – too many Pilsner, gotta pee.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Silent Noise

Dwight Poole was born July, 1, 1990. As he grew into his teen / post-high school years he struggled with anxiety, depression, a low feeling of self-worth. He believed he was never good enough. His passion was music. Under the stage names of Ignorant Noise and Dwight Noise, he entertained and reached many people with his creativity and music. He played many local clubs, DJ’s for many others. Played Concord Music Hall in Chicago, North Coast Music Fest, Spring Awakening. He had visions of playing larger festivals.

He worked tirelessly on his musical creations. While some may discount EDM as a form, it is more than just pressing a couple of buttons on a computer, it is tedious and laborious. He lived to do that. Unfortunately haven chosen to make this his path, one constantly fights the financial aspect. The music industry is no longer driven by record sales, with a piece going to the artist. It is driven by streaming which provides very little to the artist. If an artist isn’t touring, performing, or selling merchandise, they are not surviving.

Dwight was the person who truly would, regardless of his situation, help a person whenever they needed it. Outwardly, most of the time, his struggles were Silent. Inside there was much Noise. In 2019 he had performed at North Coast and was working on his latest release. He was outwardly Silent, inwardly much Noise. People knew his struggles, he always said he would get help but help costs money. No job, no health insurance, surviving on $100 a night checks at clubs. Mounting debt, he knew we would help him but he wouldn’t ask. In October of 2019, he attempted suicide, he realized that he needed help and needed, most importantly, to get people back into his life. A good friend who he had been working with to make his vision of a local club for DJ’s and other artists was taking shape, helped him in his struggle. In November of 2019, that good friend was killed in a tragic automobile accident. Dwight took it extremely hard. The final spiral began. He reached out to his family, wanted to be with us, inside the spiral was continuing. On November 25, 2019 there was a memorial for his friend, Dwight played and gave the eulogy. He went home later that night, the last known contact he had with anyone was around 10 am. He had told people he would never take his own life, he wouldn’t do that to people. At some point during the day of November 26, 2019, he completed suicide and ended his pain.

Silent Noise has been created to provide outreach, point people to where help is, give them materials, education, eventually provide scholarships for those who don’t have the resources to obtain mental health counseling. Too many of our young people are reaching that point where the only way to end the Noise is suicide. We must do better and as long as I have a voice, the ability to do something, I am going to do it.

Dwight was working on a release of his music, Not Dead Yet (ironically), he had completed a few tracks and was working on a third. I grabbed all of his music and hard drives – have placed much of it on various streaming services. Recently we produced his first full length CD – The Words Fall.

A gofundme has been setup to raise funds to produce Not Dead Yet, tracks have been remastered and are nearly ready for production. Proceeds of this project will go to providing outreach and education to those in our community who need help.

Last year, through local community outreach, direct fundraising and our first Fright Noise 0.5k “run,” we were able to donate over $4,000 to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. This year we will be supporting AFSP and other organizations who provide direct support to those who need help.

If you wish to participate in helping us, please follow the link to the gofundme page. We are setting up websites, have merchandise available at Shopify and Etsy. Every donation helps, regardless of the amount.

https://gofund.me/ec3841ab

Thank you!

4 Cats and a Dude

How an avowed dog lover became owned by Cats.

Feline 1 – Abbynormal

I love dogs. Most of my life I have lived in a household with dogs. Fritz, Jinx, some goofy husky, I forget the name, Mick, Harry, Scully, Rosie. Just always loved their loyalty.

When I got married I did become a cat owner for awhile but that didn’t last long.

Before the breakup, I moved to an apartment where no pets were allowed, that was fine, my schedule is not real conducive to dogs anyway. After 14 years there I figured it was time to take advantage of home prices and interest rates.

“Kitty” as she was called, is a feral cat that was roaming the range in Texas. My niece took her in and fostered her but she was pretty much told she had too many pets and some (or one) had to go. Where they were there was not a “no-kill” shelter, pretty rough choice. Find someone to take her or euthanasia.

On a whim, I told her, get her to Indiana and I’ll take her. Well, she got her to Indiana, and I took her.

“Kitty” was extremely shy, she probably spent her first month hiding either under the china cabinet or in a closet. She only came out to eat, drink, poop. One day she actually was in the same room with me for more than a couple of seconds, I looked at her, said, you are one weird cat. One could say she was abnormal. I named her Abbynormal, yes I know the Young Frankenstein reference.

Over time she became a little more social, sleep in the same room with me, attack my feet at night. Typical cat stuff. Then the breakthrough came, the jump on the lap! Sleeping with me on the bed every night. She finally had trained me.

She is a great companion, still a little abnormal and shy around anyone but me, but that makes her what she has become!

Her life was cruising along until someone got talked into bringing her a housemate.

That will have to wait until my next musing. You can find Abby on instagram under #abbynormalthecat.

Feline 2 – LilyVonSchtupp

One day I went to work at one of our Chicago locations, home to buses and many feral cats over the years. When I had my office there, I would watch each litter emerge from the vacant building next to me. Sometimes they would make it, sometimes not, circle of life.

As I was there a couple of the office staff mentioned this black cat that seemed to be very shy and timid, probably wouldn’t survive long around a busy bus lot. I was talked in to taking her home. Keeping her separated from Abby was easy, one in the basement, one upstairs. Slowly I introduced the two of them, that went as well as can be expected. An adult female and basically a six month old kitten. Well kitten, unknown to all, was carrying a little secret, well, two secrets.

Before I get to that, she has adjsuted well, her and Abby get along, she is much more social with me. I enjoy her daily routine of picking up a mouse toy to carry around, bat awhile, then drop at my feet. She is the only one of the two who has shown the desire to escape from the house. Both times she stayed in the yard which was good. You can find Lily on instagram under #lilyvonschtuppthecat. Oh, the name, well I had to keep with the Mel Brooks theme. It was fitting.

Well, one day in September of 2021, I hear strange noises from the basement, figure she was mousing. I go downstairs and see her carrying something in her mouth. It’s a mou——-, nope, it’s a newborn kitten. Not one, but two. Welcome to my world. 1 has become 2, 2 has become 4.

Feline 3 – Inga

Inga joined us on this day. A beautiful torty, she is the loner, adventurous one. The explorer. Her and her mother plus sister love to play together. Inga is not real big on being touched unless she wants you to but she will follow you around. She is also the most vocal. At a little over a year and a half old, she has become a stealthy companion.

Feline 4 – FrauBlucher

Blu is the mischievous one, in to everything, all the time. The purr though will get you everytime, it’s like a motorboat, in sound and volume! She is also the only one who Abby will play with, they have bonded somehow. A lovely gray color added with a nice cat smile just melts you.

Of course, when they were born everyone wanted to take one. Most wanted Inga over Blu, the coloration helped. As I saw them develop, they are bonded, either take both or none. Well, the only one who got to live by that offer was, me. I wouldn’t trade any of them for anything, it’s ncie to have them around.

Choices

Every day we make choices, such an obvious statement that carries much meaning.

Want to make a change? It is a choice.

Want to get something done? It is a choice.

Can’t have a million dollars if we don’t make the choice to earn one.

Can’t lose those many (or few) pounds unless we make the choice to adjust eating or drinking habits.

Can’t be more physically fit if the choice is to have an active routine of bed, bathroom, kitchen, bed, front room, workstation, kitchen, bathroom, couch, bed.

Finances? Spend money on things that aren’t needed or make you temporarily feel good or tackle debt.

It’s too easy to blame outside sources for our lives. Especially when the choices we make have created this life.

Life isn’t visualization. I can sit on a couch 24/7 and visualize that I am a thin, oily bo-hunk, but the truth is I will never get there if I don’t get off that couch and do something about it.

House is a mess? It won’t clean itself.

I fully understand the concept of mental health and how it impacts motivation. But there are little victories. Something simple, pulling the comforter across the bed. Washing the dish you used yesterday.

Gotta be honest, this morning I accidentally dumped an entire container of Raisin Bran on the floor. Now I kind of think my cats won’t eat that so I can either leave it there to attract other varmints that the cats might eat or I can begrudgingly grab a broom and dust pan to sweep it up. In the process of doing that my mind said, gee there is more you can sweep, so I did that. A small victory for the day.

The act of just typing out this blog post is a choice, my insecure self says, why would anyone want to read this. My other self says, why not write it down (or type it out), at least I am getting thoughts in print.

60 Trips Around The Sun

March 16, 1962. Elmendorf Air Force Base, Anchorage, Alaska. Yes Alaska had statehood back then and I could see Russia with my tiny baby blue eyes. The number one song on the Hot 100 was Hey Baby by Bruce Channel. If you were fortunate enough to afford a television which would run you about $1,000 ($9,000) in today’s dollars, you were watching Lucy, Red Skelton, Gunsmoke or that new hit show Beverly Hillbillies. There was no Super Bowl but the top team in football was either Green Bay (NFL) or Dallas Texans (AFL). Texans became the Kansas City Chiefs. Arguments were had over the top college football team between Southern Cal and Ole Miss. NBA wasn’t really a big thing but your top team there was the Celtics, the Bearcats of Cincinnati were your champs in the NCAA. NHL still had the original 6 and Toronto beat the Blackhawks to capture Lord Stanley’s Cup. MLB had the NL and the AL – two teams won pennants and played for the World Series with the Yankees capturing the title.

State Fair was in theaters, and John F Kennedy was in his second year as President. He was assassinated in November of 1963.

21, 915 days. In my lifetime, there has been the Great Alaskan Earthquake of March 1964. Our nation has been involved with one never ending war to stop the dominos falling (Korea) to Vietnam. Vietnam, Grenada, El Salvador, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” Kuwait, Iraq, Somalia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, Iraq, Ukraine. Amazing isn’t it that in 60 years, this country has never been at “peace.”

Kennedy, LBJ, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama, Trump, Biden.

We went to the moon, watched with rapt attention as Neil Armstrong made that one giant step, prayed for the astronauts of Apollo 13. Disbelief as the Challenger exploded then wept as a President gave one of the most inspirational speeches in history to pay tribute to the first teacher in space.

We had heroes who weren’t just athletes or pop culture figures. We had villains too.

The soundtrack of our lives, that special song, the Stylistics, Terry Jack, Three Dog Night.

We were allowed to be kids, saw our first nudity from National Geographic, learned of sex from Encyclopedia Britannica. We played until dark, rode our bikes everywhere we could.

Olympics? We would have our own, run around the block for marathon, sprint up the street, do our own form of “gymnastics” (we would never be confused with Nadia).

Played pick up, well, pretty much everything, “touch” football, basketball, kickball, baseball, tetherball – if it involved a ball, we played, that took on new meaning as we became teens. Rain or shine, it was the good life.

Ride to the 7/11, pick up a pack of smokes for my mother, buy a bottle of Coke for a dime, drink it, get our deposit and buy a pack of Topps baseball cards. Naturally if the players weren’t our favorites they were clothespinned to the spokes of our bikes.

Shoes? what were they, one hasn’t lived until they have had their foot slip off the bike pedal, peel back the top five layers of skin from the big toe. Or, for that matter, had the cuff of your pants get sucked up in the bike chain, rubber bands around the pant legs were mandatory.

We were Evil Knievel, build a ramp, space it a ridiculous amount of distance apart, celebrate when we cleared it. It’s probably a good idea that we chickened out of riding down the hill from Martin Luther King, Jr. Elementary School, across Metropolitan Street and attempted the drainage ditch.

Skinned knees, elbows, the occasional broken bone, rub some dirt on it and get right back out there.

Burgers wrapped in paper, greasy french fries and a Coke, the only pizza was the Hut, hot dogs, PBJ were staples of the diet.

Our first loves, first kiss, first really embarrassing dance at the gym. “Do you like me?” “check yes or no.” Heartbroken when they say no. Going “steady” because that is what you did, breaking up, intense sorrow, finding a new “love,” going steady again – all in one day!

We had innocence, we experienced things, we lived life, we used our imaginations, we didn’t have all the technology, hell, we didn’t even have Pong! We had Lincoln Logs, Sizzlers, Hot Wheels, Erector Sets, and my favorite, the “build it yourself” shortwave radio from Radio Shack. Back then a computer was punch cards and very large room of hardware.

We were kids, happy to be so, longing to grow up but wanting to hold on to those good times. Got in a fight with a friend, best friends again in an hour. We didn’t have the constant drone of how bad the world is those days. Our greatest challenge was not getting caught.

Thanksgiving

I Thessalonians 5:18IN everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. (KJV – you really think I would use anything else?)(emphasis mine)

Thanksgiving. As a person who grew up in a religious environment, this was always an “oldie but goodie” passage that was used during times of grief as well as the premise of nearly every Thanksgiving service I attended.

“When upon life billows you are tempest tossed.”

As is the case with most everything, understanding context is important, so let’s back up a little. For the purpose of this post, “Church” refers to Christians, because we are, in fact, the church.

I Thessalonians 5:15 – “See that none render evil for evil unto ANY man; but ever follow that which is good, both among yourselves, and to all men.” Keep in mind that the writer (Paul) was speaking to the church in Thessalonica. In his epistle, he was exhorting the church to practice what he had taught them about the conduct of the church. But many volumes and many sermons have been preached on this book, so I will save that for another musing.

Back to the text, the church is never to render evil for evil, not have revenge or be vengeful, regardless of that person’s station in life. We are to follow that which is good (again, one must put this in the context of the church and teachings of Christ)

“When you are discouraged, thinking all is lost.”

I Thessalonians 5:16 – ” Rejoice evermore.” That doesn’t mean we are always happy, it means that we are to rejoice in all we have. Sometimes we have to look for it because the pressures of life may make us lose sight.

I Thessalonians 5:17 – “Pray without ceasing.” In my opinion, prayer is one of the most misunderstood religious teachings. In Matthew, Christ taught that we are not to pray like “hypocrites.” Kind of like politicians who have to put their name on every piece of toilet paper in a bathroom to make sure you know that they sponsored it, too many “leaders” like to make a show of prayer or religious prattle, probably why I have a hard time with any organized religious and/or their services, too much posing.

How does one pray without ceasing, does that mean 24/7, 365? In modern language, pray without ceasing is like, to me, working from home with music or a tv on in the background. It’s keeping that avenue open with God and pray just like you were having a conversation with someone in the room.

Some would never notice but before every game or meet I have officiated, mainly in the past 20 years, I say a little prayer and speak to my father and now my son. Non-descript, no big show, just a few words.

It is interesting how Paul tied this passage together with the exhortation to pray.

“Count your many blessings, name them one by one,”

I Thessalonians 5:18 – “IN (emphasis mine) everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.”IN everything, not FOR everything.

I do a disservice to those who I love and love me if I make the statement that because Dwight Noise died two years ago, I can’t celebrate Thanksgiving. That’s a tough statement to make but in reality it’s true. I am taken by the FB questions that ask if you could go back to your teen years and do it all again, would you? It’s fun to ponder, but, it’s actually cruel to those around you. If I went back and did the Marty McFly change history, it would alter the future. Those I love now would not be part of my life, to me that is cruel.

I can grieve over Dwight Noise but to not be thankful for what I do have is a disservice to others around me. I can also be thankful for the 29 years we shared on this earthly plain. (why is it that the only time people use phrases like earthly plain is when they are being “spiritual minded?”)

That being said, I am thankful for so many things that I have. I won’t list them because the reader understands where this is heading. Yeah, life sucks sometimes and we all have things that aren’t “right” in our world, but we can always find something, house, food, family, work, Nagy getting fired, to give thanks.

Tying the entire passage together, that is Paul’s exhortation. We treat each other well, we rejoice, we pray, we give thanks!

“And it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.”

Life truly is simple, just like the hymn “Count Your Blessings” by Johnson Oatman. We make things complicated.

God knows that I need all of the mental health counseling I can get my hands on, I need every support group out there, friends and family. Not sure if I didn’t have some modicum of faith in God I would have survived the past two years.

See – I can give thanks for all of that!

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours and thank you for attending my 7 minutes in heaven homily.

Fall

Autumn is a favorite time of year. Autumn brings respite from the heat of the summer and basks the world in true beauty as trees shed their coverings. I have always looked at the seasons as a parallel to the cycle of life. We are born in the spring when the world is new, live our lives in summer that can stress all things, as we end the twilight of our lives, we enter fall. Life slows some but the true color comes to fruition. Winter brings the end of all things but with the cold and emptiness there is hope that lying beneath is the coming of spring.

I Guess He’d Rather Be

My introduction to that lyric was not from the more common and popular version done by John Denver but from Merle Haggard in the late 70’s mini-series adaptation of James Michener’s novel Centennial.

The story is the history of the oft-scorned South Platte River. The lives of the Arapaho, Cheyenne, Trappers and Traders, Mountain Men, Settlers moving West to seek their fortunes, the Gold Rush, Ranchers, Farmers and then the Industrialists of the 20th Century. Despite the star power of the mini-series, there was only one continuous “star,” the land. Those who respected the land survived, those who didn’t perished.

Colorado will always hold a special place in my heart as my formative years were spent in a small town outside of Colorado Springs named Widefield. Before it was vogue to have diversity, we were a melting pot of all races, creeds and religions. A military town with Army and Air Force bases dotting the landscape.

As a person who has developed a love for photography, Colorado holds much more beauty than one such as I could try to capture. Every day is different and the landscape is ever changing. No two days are the same on the magnificence that is called the Rocky Mountains.

Whether it be standing at 14,000 feet on Mount Evans or 5,000 at Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge, the expanse of the prairie graduates to the great heights of the mountains. I find God when I look out across what has been created.

Through all of that – the “star” of the show is always the land. One must respect the land, the water and the delicate balance of man and nature.

As is said throughout the program – we must all realize that only the rocks live forever – the land was there before I set foot on it every year and will be there long after I am gone.

I Guess He’d Rather Be in Colorado is all summed up in the final lyric, He Lives in New York City, or, in this case, He Lives in Indiana.

Summit Lake below Mount Evans, Colorado

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Great By Choice

In finishing the book Great By Choice by Jim Collins and Morten Hanson, a book I was inspired to read by hearing a presentation by NFL Referee and CEO of ArbiterSports, Jeff Triplette.

Great companies, leaders, teachers and, yes, officials choose to be so. Yes, there are elements of luck that come in to play but in this book it is detailed how luck is usually 50/50 good to bad.

My interest was peaked because the writers place a practical application to the famous Amundsen expedition to the South Pole, in this book known as the 20 mile marcher.

More on that at a later time. In the very first chapter principles are laid out to aid the reader in how to be great and the choice that is made to get us there. From an officials standpoint and I adapt from the book, imagine you are hiking on a beautiful spring day – of course as I look out my window and see yet another Winter storm – we would all love a spring day, the trail is fairly easy, weather is perfect and there is no threat of bad weather. The competency and experience of the guide is not of a major concern, as long as he can lead you from A to B, he is “great.”

Let’s change the equation a little, you are hiking on what starts out to be a beautiful summer day, temperatures are perfect, no threat of bad weather, when you start. Your guide is a professional who has prepared for almost any possibility. As the day progresses, your guide feels the change in the wind, sees the cloud formations off the peaks and knows that what started out as a beautiful summer day may now possibly turn into a completely different event. Inexperienced, you want to push on but your guide is there to tell you that you have to go down, your goal unattained and you have to do it quickly. He safely leads you to safety to try again another day. The inexperienced press on and get caught in the elements, every step becomes more dangerous. Knowledge and preparation, not luck, is what makes the difference.

From an officiating standpoint, it is easy to work with the veteran official in a contest with relatively little controversy or “tough” calls. It is when the storm brews during the game that the veteran, who has the knowledge, experience and done his preparation, leads you to safety. That is not luck, nor is it the ever growing “good ol boy network.” It is developed in years of preparation and work.

poolebarry

My adventures in pictures

Posts by 4 cats, and a dude

Dwight – Five Years into the Journey

They told me to write a book…..so I did.

Silent Noise

4 Cats and a Dude

Choices

60 Trips Around The Sun

Thanksgiving

Fall

I Guess He’d Rather Be

Great By Choice