Posts Tagged → unfunny commentary

Empty Nests, Creeps, & Sharks

The first week of Empty Nest Syndrome was everything I expected it to be and more. And by that, I mean that I had all the expected symptoms of missing B, but because Jason gotta Jason, I also threw in a few days of malaise, regret, self-loathing, ennui, self-flagellation (not the good kind), and learning to talk in the third person as I come to grips with now being what can only be described as virtually useless to society. I’m not sure why I needed my son to start college to point out the obvious again, but here we are.

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A Week’s Hits & Misses

After the last week’s physical debacle, I was stoked to wake up on Saturday morning to near darkness and rain pissing down. That meant I could sit around like the mentally challenged obese sloth that I am and rest my back and shoulder without guilt. And ditto for Sunday, thank you very much.

When Monday and the start of another week of fresh hell arrived, I was eager to do something physical and returned to the gym for some time on the treadmill and light strength training.

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Pops and Spasms

“Nothing makes you feel old like being old.” – Old Man

After Wednesday’s 5-mile hike at Deerfield (my second within a few days), I was feeling pretty good about myself. “So what if I’m older, fatter, and ‘on a break’ from my bike? I can still push myself and have fun in the woods in other ways,” I thought as I drove home.

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Sleestaks & Pacy Hikes

After my 3-mile hike at Deerfield Park on Sunday with my old beat-to-hell Canon s95 point-and-shoot camera, I was eager to get back for more hiking and shooting with something, not a 12-year-old pocket camera. However, first I would have to suffer through some time in the gym on Monday to make me feel like I’m not following through on past threats to slack through my AARP years while waiting for the dogs above to call me home.

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Pixelated Creative Self-Gratification

After last week’s two-day getaway, I embraced not leaving the house for a few days like a fly to a fresh turd, Wifey promptly left for a quick trip to Pennsylvania to visit her family, and B went to visit friends up north.

While I joked with Wifey that me alone in the house would lead to un-idle hands, bad decisions, solo naked frolicking (probably with food), and deleted search histories, I actually just hung out with the dogs, dranks some beers, listened to music, and watched the Women’s European Championship before dragging my ass to Forest Hill Nature Area for a photo creep late Sunday morning.

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The First 25 & The Back 9

This is part one in a nine-part travelogue devoted to a recent two-day trip to Boyne City. I jest, it’s two parts, and you are under no obligation to read a word. — Management.

Earlier this week, Wifey and I went on a mid-week “weekend excursion” to the Boyne City, Michigan area to do some hiking, some beaching, and some celebrating of our 25th wedding anniversary. We would also acknowledge my 51st birthday, which would be coming two days later and have me making the turn on to the back nine of life. 

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Big Ol’ Dumps

The following is a big ol’ dump of photos from the past few days. There are tiny flowers, bugs, birds, birds WITH bugs, dogs, toads, frogs, and a couple of my favorite gingers.

Most of these photos have shown up in my Instagram feed recently, but here you can actually see some details in the photos without selling your soul to Meta or whatever Zuckerberg calls his money-grubbing shit show these days.

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