It's About the Smile Under My Mask Thing

Dear America,

"We either make ourselves happy or miserable. 

The amount of work is all the same."

Carlos Castaneda

indeed

speaking of work...this girl has been in throes of adjusting to major life changes, having taken a union job at a local grocery store!  Yes, you heard me correctly -- this girl a officially a card carrying member of a union, something I never saw coming, no question.

Whatever.
Having lost my nanny gig at the onset of the pandemic, I had to immediate find employment.  And while most companies were forced to work remotely, and even other companies had to entirely close its doors, grocery stores were of the few opportunities available.  So yes, I jumped on that like white on rice (available on aisle two, section 12, rows 1 - 4, on the right).

I'm play a minion part within a large corporate chain; I punch in on a time clock upon arrival, going to lunch, returning from lunch, and at the end of the day; I get paid weekly; and after four months of hard labor, must still await the six month mark to be eligible for any benefits.  Oh, and I start my day at 3 a.m...pretty much six days a week.

And I strangely love it.

I get up about two a.m. with my french press already filled with the daily grind and only awaiting for the tea kettle to fulfill its duties to get into some hot water.  My lunch, breakfast, depending upon how you look at it, is fetched from its overnight chill and placed in a small cooler, while I've popped a bagel in the toaster.  It's up and atom and out the door, aiming for about 2:22 each morn (not that I fret if I'm off a wee bit, it just seems to be about the time I make my exit into the night).  All in all, this allows me to arrive in the store parking lot in time to enjoy about 15 minutes of sipoing coffee and soaking up the moonshine amidst the abundance of peace and quiet before the hustle bustle of the day shines through and then some.

Truth be told, I think this crazy hour has become my favorite time of day.  Just me and God, having a moment all too ourselves.  And it is good.

But no rest for the weary, a paycheck doesn't come about once a week for nothing (wait, unless you're on unemployment... bada bump ba).  (But we ain't got time to talk about that right now...save for another time and place).

Anywho,
Each day, I hit the ground running, concrete floor and all, from the moment I step foot inside the automatic doors, meeting up with a welcoming committee of a rather brisk temperature, universally recognized as super cold, along with a spattering of night crew, each up to their eyeballs with product lining the aisles, cardboard and sheets of plastic strewn about, with the accompaniment of cheesy canned music bouncing off the walls from produce to the freezers to the deli and back again...nothing escapes this gawd awful collection of tunes that is repeated over and over again, day after day. nothing.

And strangely, I love it.

While at the end of the day, I am often carefully recorded as having clocked five to six miles, walking the store, handpicking grocery orders, with only a half hour lunch in the middle of it.  This store takes everything I got out of me, every single day; and proud to say, that after only a few months, my arms and abs and legs are the most toned in years.  Can you carry two twelve packs of Coca-Cola under each arm, place them in the cart, only to have to unload, once to a holding bin awaiting pick up, and in the second, to do it all over again to take them to someone's trunk... like multiple times in a day, and still keep standing?  Yeah, that's what  I thought.    It might be said that I should be paying them for the personal training coming free of charge, but I'll never tell.  wait, maybe I just did.  ah, who are we kidding, it's not like the ole G Thing ever goes viral like the covid, right.

People thank me daily for my service, and I'm like, really?  seriously? say what?
um. awkward. 
According to me, G, that phrase should only be used for true heroes --  like our service men and women all across the globe, or, perhaps even more timely, our police departments nationwide.  ah, yes, indeed,  (That would also be a good conversation to have right about now. But, not today.  I'll  save that for another time, too.)

And even though my department is dealing with some gnarly growing pains these days, I can strangely admit that I still love it.  I love it all.  The smile under my mask tells it all, I'm sure.

Today's day, here on the old G thing, is simply about making an observation about humanity.

And a scroll to the top of the page will sum it up quite nicely.  Castaneda is so right.

We are always at choice, no matter the set of circumstances, to set our attitude straight.

It is the same amount of work to be happy or miserable, indeed, indeed.

How powerful a statement is that?!

I see it play out, at work, every day; those who arrive miserable, stay miserable, and work their misery to the bone day in and day out.  I see it play out at work all the time.  It's rather exhausting, really,  That part of my day I could surely do without.

I can't be bothered with that nonsense.  All I want to do is work my ass off, give the people what they want, and go home at the end of the day fully satisfied with a good hard day's work.  And besides, I'm just so grateful to have the job in the first place!

In this time of Covid -- amidst the nightly protests for Black Lives Matter -- amidst absurd calls to de-fund the police -- amidst schools moving entire classrooms to online learning -- amidst the turmoil in the headlines -- I feel so blessed to begin my day in the peace and quiet of a parking lot, communing with nature and God and the elements, while all the rest of my community is still resting under the covers in sweet slumber. 

For most people, it's a rare occurrence to entertain the night while the rest of the world sleeps.

But for me, I'm lapping it up every twenty four, and strangely, I love it. I'm smiling under my mask right now.  wait.  not wearing a mask at the moment...now in the sanctity of my home, and sitting here, communing with my blog for the first time in months.  Oh, what a joy it is.

Life is strange.  It has so many turns, a winding road that leads us this way and that way all the days of our lives.  You are just as surprised as I am that this girl has taken a Union job...go figure.

But what is it that I've been saying...oh, right...
strangely, I love it.  Indeed, I do.

Not sure when I'll have a chance to come back, but when I do, trust me -- it will be on the heels of eight hours, six miles, four hundred items picked, all beginning at two o'clock in the morning.

two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?

A hard day's work.

LOVE it.

Make it a Good Day, 
G 

It's Just a Cam Jam Thing

Dear America,

“I’m an African-American quarterback 

that may scare a lot of people 

because they haven’t seen nothing

 that they can compare me to,” 

said the 6-foot-5, 245-pound Newton...

as in Cam Newton x

yes. this is somewhat old news, as in from last week, or something; but it's been on my list of days to do, and guess what?  we're heeeeeerrrrrrreeeeee

we're shaking off the campaign trail for just a moment.  

This is a story about how attitude is everything...no matter if you are running a football or running for president.  Ergo, it could be said that a Trump kind of candidate is like a Cam, if this, was perhaps, the first round of the presidential draft.  But I digress.

If you are a long time follower of G, you would know that this girl loves her football!    And yet, the game has been such an area of frustration -- a frustration growing annually with each new season and with each new micro-management of the game and with each new politically correct turn -- it has become an arena in my life that has become easy to let go and let live without me for the most part.  (so sad)

But having said that,

Cam opened a door and this girl is walking in with gusto.

Why bring in the race factor, Cam?  Really, why?

Now call me silly girl with a painted game face on... 

(and it is ORANGE, btw, with #18 on one side and a horseshoe on the other, just to be perfectly clear -- but if you must know, this choice has nothing to do with you, Cam.   I HAVE LOVED PEYTON MANNING for a long, long, time xoxox), 

...but haven't you ruffled a few shoulder pads for quite some time...as in nearly every day since the day you joined the ranks of the NFL?  

Here's an old story, from your first Pro Bowl,  for one example.  At the end of the article, after the end of the game, of course, here are the final thoughts from Yahoo's Shutdown Corner, Doug Farrar (Dec 2012):

Having talked with Newton a couple of times, and wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt because I believe that African-American quarterbacks still have to climb more mountains when it comes to perception, I've come away thinking that he's very structured in what he says and does. I also got the impression that he expects people to establish negative preconceptions before they even meet him. That probably gives him an aloofness that doesn't work well in the NFL community, and it's certainly clear that if he wants to form any bonds in his pro career, he will need to re-assess the ways in which he relates to people. 

Then again, some quarterbacks just set people off. You get to a Super Bowl or two, or throw for 50,000 yards in your career, and you can have a few personality quirks.

which reminds me of an old Chinese saying ....

Just because you were born 

a kitten 

in a china cabinet 

doesn't make you a teacup.

It might be said, that Cam has grown up with chip on HIS shoulder from HIS own Perceptions, or perceptions passed on through the generations, even before other people's perceptions have joined him in the parlor, let alone on the field.  Surely it is the unbearable lightness of being, being true to himself and without the weight of a world of race inequality swirling around him and generated by his own limitations and assumptions.  And yet, this is the spirit of Cam this girl wants to see.

To steal a phrase from Bridget Jones, "I like you, [Cam], just the way you are."

That is, when you just play the game with that big, strong, all-American body of yours that is too beautiful for words.  Greek God good, you are so worthy to be called for the ages; while, if Michelangelo were alive today, surely he'd pick you, over David, without having to magnify, or rather inflate,  a bloomin' thing...All you would need to do is keep your big mouth shut, of course.

Just what is this business of the big black guy scaring people anyway?  I'll give you a thump on the head for relying on such an archaic belief system for starters, and for back up -- have you looked around you?  The entire game is predominantly BIG BLACK GUYS hitting each other left and right all the live long day.    And everybody seems to be embracing everybody; that is, except you.  You stick out with an attitude bigger than life; why is that?   What a way to waste that 6 foot 5, 245 frame of lusciousness and talent...

shhhshhhh don't talk.

And it's not like you are even the first black quarterback to make it to the big game....geeze.  Go here... for what is called the Big Black Book of Black Quarterbacks , which happens to be so BIG, it comes in two volumes.  And if you are keeping track of the stats, this comes in about two years after the Pro Bowl dust up.   Thank you, Greg Howard!  Wow.  Incredible research and knowledge and commentary! 

Here's a toss:

Young Cam is obviously quite pleased with himself in that first SC clip. It's from the 2012 Pro Bowl, when the first Pete Prisco story came up about other Pro Bowlers freezing out Newton after he'd offended them in some way. But Cam Newton has often been pleased with himself, and that hasn't stopped him or his teams from being successful. It may have helped! There is, in fact, a pretty strong body of evidence that suggests that being kind of an ass is actually positively correlated with being successful. Hell, they wrote entire books in tribute to the power of Michael Jordan's and Steve Jobs's dickishness. Maturity, at least as limned by the sports media, is meaningless, just a nebula of bullshit and old axioms with which to surround whatever kind of story happens to be on hand. It's easy to lose sight of that, though, when Skip Bayless is clubbing you over your head with Russell Wilson day after day...

and here's the last look from the fifty yard line --

This is a very old game, and the fact that players with supposedly bad attitudes have succeeded and players with supposedly good attitudes have failed doesn't seem to prevent people from playing it still. Newton should've demonstrated the folly of this particular line of analysis once and for all. And yet here we are: Cam Newton, who won a freaking national championship in college, is a winner now because he learned some manners, according to ESPN.

You know, Cam to think of it -- plastering yourself with the number one  across your jersey from the point of coin toss might just be something to re-evaluate.  And yet, as Greg Howard duly noted, being the number one ass of the game may just be who you are, to be true to yourself.  And just maybe -- that will work for you in the long run...if you go the full 100 yards without another major foul of the mouth.

The thing is -- and I know I'm just a girl...pretty darn clear on that one -- but this girl surely can't be alone with this conclusion: character counts.  On the field and off, our own personal stats speak volumes; we all walk with our character under a floodlight, in banner acts of kindness, in humble recognition of our own faults and inadequacies, in hopes of creating an entire nation built with our good character showing every single day.   And maybe even in the yogurt aisle...watch.

Oikos Triple Zero Yogurt didn't pick Russell Wilson, they picked you for this little spot... for a reason.   Hmmm wonder what that was....perhaps because you're number one attitude [mixing the good and the bad into a creamy perfection) screams number one with no apologies?  

Now that the Gods are smiling on you, after the stars have seemingly aligned and the entire universe has came together over sixteen games and a couple of play-off births with a bang--  only a season of stellar ball precedes you, unless you want to count that jarring self-inflicted concussion caused by your own thoughts that began going something like this:

 I’m an African-American quarterback 

that may scare a lot of people 

because they haven’t seen nothing

 that they can compare me to,” 

get over your big bad self and just play to the best of your abilities.   and if you get the win -- whether we are talking about this Sunday or any Sunday -- be grateful, thank your fellow team mates, thank God for making you so big and powerful and strong, and thank your lucky stars.

Your "African-American" roots don't scare me; that stat is irrelevant.  It's all about the African-American bad-ass quarterback that rears it's ugly head from time to time; as a role model -- that scares me.  We will see if that bad-ass can be tamed long enough to translate into a full career that lasts longer than five years and a Super Bowl.  We'll see if that bad-ass Offensive matures over time, and grows into a spirit of humility, and a little more graciousness.  It is a team sport, you know. And you are, in fact, all of what...twenty-six?

Perhaps, Cam, if you could -- take a moment to read what Russell Wilson had to say, back in 2014, after actually beating Peyton Manning in a Super Bowl....it just might be your ticket to a new attitude, if that is something that interests you...

...matter of fact, everyone with eyes on the prize needs to stop right now and read what Russell Wilson had to say.  GO HERE.

Now that guy is a true American gem.  I love you, too, Russell Wilson.

And I want to love you, Cam.  I want to.  There is something really really wonderful about what you bring to the game of football.  You are magnificent to watch; this girl only flinches a bit when you get sacked by stumbling over your own race-consciousness and throw it back in my face.

When Russell went to visit President Obama at the White House, Obama said this:

"Russell became only the second African-American quarterback ever to win a Super Bowl. And the best part about it is nobody commented on it, which tells you the progress that we’ve made, although we’ve got more progress to make.’’

indeed. 

And I don't agree with President Obama on many things, so let's just enjoy this moment for what it is and run with it without sporting an unnecessary interruption of all the good vibes, shall we?

Now before we end the day, let me just add this girl has her pick for Sunday. And in my humble opinion it is black and white -- or, in other words, clear as a bell.

It has nothing to do with the color of skin.

It might have something to do with character, but I haven't seen Cam in action long enough to know any better or worse. And attitude might be everything or nothing -- is there a stat on that?

It does, however, have everything to do with my long time love and admiration and Peyton Manning being true to who he is.

Not to mention how this up-coming occasion is Peyton Manning's last game (on one hand, just making a logical conclusion, while on the other hand, simply making a perfectly groundless ass-sumption ....take your pick).  His hard-earned, spectacular career deserves a Super Bowl ending. It's his time to be the belle of the Super Ball and ring in his entire career with a fairy tale ending.  But now listen to me, carrying on like so...little old g thing sounds like a girl and throws like one, too.

How about this,

may the best TEAM win.

(just look at me now... sounding so open-minded...

....ahhh if you could only hear what is hollering in my heart x)

Make it a Good Day, G