Conflict of interest.

How the hell do people write books about themselves? Telling stories of where they were and what they were doing, that’s one thing. How about sinking the pickax into your own gut and mining the bits for all the things that make you, you?! Who wants to do this? The first reason why I want to try is strictly monetary. I’m hoping that I can find a way to help support us in some fashion. The second reason, okay, there is no second reason. Not really anyway. I guess I feel cheated that I wasn’t able to make my mark in this world in some other fashion. Although, where I am is mainly due to decisions that I have made, I do feel that there was some kind of misalignment in the, chance, opportunity, luck machinery. The Fate thing, if you want to call it that. Anyway, things are the way they are and there’s probably a good chance my circumstances may allow me to make a mark in spite of myself.

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Back in the saddle.

I know, I know. Started a blog, started to write and what do you know? I stop. This is supposed to be an exercise in starting something and sticking to it. I got off to a pretty good start, but as we speak I have a readership of only two people. And neither one of them is my mother. I really have just been pushing through wheelchair issues, out-of-town guests and one unplanned visit by the paramedics and a subsequent trip to the hospital.

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A Self-Imposed Exorcism.

So, here it is. This is the inaugural entry in what I hope to be an ongoing, therapeutic and possibly profitable exercise. Or should I say exorcise? The fact of the matter is, I’ve spent the last 2 ½ years alternating surgeries and recovery times. This got me up close and personal with my immediate physical liabilities and was certainly not an easy time to maintain a rosy outlook on things. If you sprinkle in the regular being a husband, being a homeowner type stuff, you can get downright cranky.  It’s my chance to do something not only productive but to spark my creativity and get motivated again. I went to school to be a writer, with the exception of some things immediately after my injury, I have done none. It’s a crime when I think about it. Lazy. My experiences, as you will see have presented myriad opportunities to write and share and produce something wholly me and worthy of sharing. But that has been one of the demons I have to wrestle with. Okay, enough of this. No more whining, time to re-rail this train and ramble on.

So that’s that. First entry done. Lots of good stuff to come. My life, disability, the technology and the absurdity all coming at you from a paralyzed guy who’s an adventurer at heart and still believes that there’s plenty of good left to be discovered in this world.

For now, adios amigos.