Week 39: Mystery Car: 1970 GTO

Brothers and sisters, it's time to put the top down, if only metaphorically, rev that muscle car engine (again, likely metaphorically), and tear on down a brick-paved road, laughing at how the bumps make your collective voice go Ah_ah_AH-ah_Ah_ah_Ah-ah as you shout into the wind.

Maybe you've had a great year, free of financial worries with that old moneytree dropping offerings underfoot as you skip along in the sunshine. If so, I'm happy for you, and I truthfully mean that, sans sarcasm.

For me, it actually has been a great year, full of excitement, challenges, innovations, incredible projects, and learning. I've met some of the most incredible people on the planet and have participated in some wondrous ventures. I've played with my kids, had the flexibility to attend ball games and preschool graduation celebrations, and even had the luxury of being "advertised" by my preschooler Racer A. (Last week Racer A said he was going to "advertise" me. I didn't understand, until he he climbed on my lap and started swinging a tiny birthday party yoyo in front of my face while telling me you are getting veeeery sleepy.)

What it hasn't been is lucrative. Now if I suspected I had a readership of more than than 30 or so people, I might not admit this, but since I feel I'm among close friends here, I'll tell you, money has been crazy tight, and I don't mean tight in a hipster way. I mean tight as in can we really afford that 79 cents bag of rubber bands?

The cost of food alone is stressful, and there is no budget for going out to eat, which I so miss. It's five of us here, and the appetite of my kids appears to be growing at an exponential rate. I put food on Baby G's plate, and by the time the food is dished out to everyone else and I sit, his plate is empty. I don't even see him move. He is in the exact same position when his plate was first delivered, only with an empty plate and food on his face. (And yes I check the floor.)

Believe it or not, I actually have few complaints and am grateful of the opportunities and the energy I have been rewarded with by participating in great ventures as an independent. I just wish, you know, I had a big fat pile of cash, so big I had to use a pitchfork to shovel it to the even bigger pile next to it. (In truth I don't carry cash and do everything electronically, but there is truly no digital equivalent to the image of a pile a cash.)

November 2010 was the last time I could log what society would call a traditional job, although I have  accomplished a lot since then, and am involved in top-line initiatives. I have not once missed the structure of a time-clock job since losing my job, but that paycheck, that guaranteed every-other-week paycheck, has not gone unnoticed. The irony is I have worked harder and more diligently since losing my job than I ever did as an office drone, and I was a hard working worker bee. Now, I don't really feel like a bee at all.

A dragonfly maybe? Do they work hard? A dung beetle? A spider? No, that's not even an insect. Maybe I'm not an insect. Maybe I don't even have a metaphor anymore. Am I a ... what, a dandylion puff? No, that's not so right for me on way too many ways.

See, when you step out of the multiple choice checkbox world of traditional employment by choice, or, in my case, by being shown the door, you lose the security of knowing your metaphors, but you gain the world of being able to write your own.

Nonetheless, the uncertainty can wear on you, as does the pressure of feeling obligated to not show how the uncertainty is wearing on you.

And that's when you want to hop in the convertible GTO and let the wind blow back your hair, or, if you don't have any hair anymore, let the windblown grit from the highway polish your dome to a glorious luster.

So yes, life is good, even though I'm broke. And if I'm only enjoying my imaginary convertible ride in a diecast Hot Wheels car, I'm fortunate enough by the luck of the follicle draw to be doing it with a full head of hair.

Again, life is good.



Another aspect of life in which I am fortunate is the ongoing amazing pictures, like today's pic of my Hot Wheels GTO, one of the 2010 Mystery Cars series, from photographer Phil Pekarcik. Listen, I know many of you check in just to see the pictures, and I'm okay with that. I love 'em too.