A Pirate Life for Me


After a life time of ups and downs, trips to the gates of Hell and back, I have spent my life in the Minor Leagues.

And, I have adopted the idea of an anarchy of healing. If it FEELS good then it sure has heck HEALS good.

For more on this interesting idea and how I have managed to last in the Minor Leagues all this time…check out this Marauder Radio podcast episode.


Sing and Heal


I love to sing.

And I suck at it too. I do.

I sing and make up songs. I also make some people laugh and smile while I make others pissed off; because I am making up a song about them.

No harm intended. Yet humor is in the eye, in this case, the ear of the beholder.

When it comes to dealing with my Life in the Minor Leagues, I sign to heal.

Yard Day


Today is yard day. Yes!

It’s Sunday. And Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. At least in theory. In my life in the minor leagues I simply don’t have a day of rest. I work 6 days a week and on the seventh day, provided I’m not teaching grading papers, I focus on the yard. No time for rest. No time for play.

Stuff has to get done. Little Elves don’t show up and magically create a great the yard that drives all of the neighbors crazy with envy…I am becoming my parents.

In some ways it’s therapeutic. Yard Day. I get to burn a lot of shit. And when you can light something on fire, continue to set other things on top of the burn pile, and watch it all fade away into ash, there’s something therapeutic about that. I’m not quite sure what. And I’m not quite sure it isn’t a bit destructive, demented and scary. Yet through the vicarious nature of burning something down to the ground anxiety is reduced.

Another thing that’s very cathartic is I get to ride around on my tractor, collect stuff, take it to the burn pile, dump it on, and get rid of it! I like riding. I like driving. I like the challenge that comes with collecting leaves and stuff without the hassle of clogging the chute that comes off the mower deck and moves into the bag collection system. I am so technica.

Today my wife was out in the yard with me. She was raking all of the stuff we wanted to get rid and I was driving by and picking it up. We were a perfect team. My fat lazy ass sitting on the tractor drove around carefully and with great skill collected leaves then drove to the burn pile and reduced my anxiety.

Even though my back is killing, my thighs are screaming and I was covered in dust head to toe until I showered, yard day was therapeutic. When I look at the yard, it’s organized. Cleaner: there are less leave, twigs and oak branches. And we cleaned up some areas around a tree that fell a number of years ago. My wife wanted to get to that for some time now.

So things have been checked off the list.

The yard looks great.

I’m exhausted. And I got to burn things. Sense a theme?

As I drove around on the tractor I couldn’t help but ask myself what would this be like if I didn’t have to worry about whether or not I would get a yard day? Yard day is therapeutic yet at the same time anxiety inducing. One more thing on an already full dance card.

What if I had two days on the weekend that I could do yard work? Oh that would reduce a lot of tension. That would make more room on my plate. That would make me feel much more relaxed. Oh that would be a really good thing.

But it’s not reality.

I work a lot. Have to. Need to keep this house that’s connected to this yard, pay for college, pay for the cars, provide the health care coverage because that’s what modern day American life is all about now.

What would it be like if I travelled and hired someone to do yard day for me? Would I feel as relaxed at the end of the day? Would the yard look better? Well that’s for sure.