The SamuraiMarine

Thoughts, Philosophy, Life and Love

Category: Fun Stuff

My own private Idaho?

How easy is it to move from the place you have known for all your life to a place you have only been through briefly to make a new home for yourself?

A few years ago I made the decision to move out of California. The original plan was to move to Oregon and live someplace on the eastern, “desert”, side of the state for both health and lifestyle reasons.

It was a little later, after doing a little more investigating, that I found that Oregon was every bit as liberal as California was, and I decided that while I still wished to relocate myself and my family, it would be someplace else. After all, I am learning that California politics and I are not getting along with one another.

Ignoring my mother’s pleas to move to Alaska, I began looking at the other states I had available to me. I mean there are 49 others to choose from and each one has pros and cons. Alaska was, to my mother’s disappointment, out of the question. Not only is it too far removed from the places I like to travel, but it is also too far from the places I like to travel. Oh… I repeated myself.

One thing I started to notice was that many of my former coworkers had retired to Idaho. So, I started looking into that place as a possibility. The first looks, though, were disappointing. You see, one of the people I knew sent me pictures of four and five-foot snowdrifts against his house. When I asked where he had moved to in Idaho, he told me of a little place north of Coeur d’Alene. I want to say it was near someplace called Spirit Lake. But then I was told that if I did not want that kind of snow, I should look into the southern part of the state, maybe around Boise or Twin Falls. Which gets snow, but not nearly on the same level or volume as his area.

OK… so for the record, I do not mind the snow. If I were retired and single, I could be perfectly happy living in his area. Spending my winter snowed in with no contact with the outside world. I could totally rock that whole ‘Jack Torrance at the Outlook Hotel’ thing. Minus the freaky ‘redrum’ twins and the phantom bar-tender. But I have a wife and a nine-year-old that, given a situation like that, might in and of themselves turn murderous should we have to be snowed in.

Boise looked great, so did Mountain Home and the same with Twin Falls. So I started looking into them all and found that there were some pretty good career opportunities in all three locations. And thus… I made a decision.

We were moving to Idaho.

So today I am working on getting a little further with my degree before I make the move unless something comes up that I just cannot pass on. But for the time being, I set an eighteen-month window in which I would have us out of California, and that window officially started in January of this year.

If all goes well, we will be in Idaho by the end of 2021. A new life and a new start.

What the hell do I know?

You know… I write a lot about friendships, keeping up relationships and things like that, here. However, the older I get, the more I learn about myself, and the more I realize who the hell I am, exactly, I realized something.

Who the heck am I to be talking about this crap? I mean, I don’t go out, I don’t socialize, I have no really CLOSE friends anymore. The people I do know that I consider my “closest” friends, while important to me, are not people that think to call me for a chat or invite me to functions. There are even a couple of them that when they DO invite me it’s because they need something in return.

I am not really bitter about the the topic. It just strikes me as ironic that me, a person that really has no one that he can call a close friend, seems to think that it is OK to tell others what they need to do to keep and maintain friends. It’s sort of like the mechanic that preaches to his customers to get their cars serviced on a regular basis, yet his own car is falling apart from neglect.

It’s funny, really. I talk to my son about this stuff, and about how important it is to keep and maintain his friendships and relationships and he will ask me about my friends and I really have no response for him. I guess when I know he can understand the humor in it better, I will just tell him that it is a beautifully ironic case of “Do as I say, not as I do!”

Anyway… thought I would share that little pearl of wisdom. You all have a great day.

30 Years and aging…

Next month, on the 10th of September, I will attend my 30th high school reunion.

Is this important?   No, in the long term scheme of things, it is no more important than if you remembered to floss or flush the toilet.  But to me and to the people that will be there, it is important.

To me, it is important because it will serve as a reminder of who I was in school and who I have become.   It also marks a point where I can look at what I had to say about my last reunion, which I also wrote about here. in a post called “A stirring of Memories” and see what, if any, changes appear between the two experiences.

I am not sure what I expect… I know there are going to be people there that I still do not care for, and some that I may still have some feelings for.  I know that I am going to be forced to do something that I am not ready for… and that is to dance.

I dance in a manner similar to a disabled zebra running from a pack of rabid hyenas.  It is not well done, is not pretty and will probably go badly and poorly for all involved.  So I expect to see Meme’s on Facebook for years to come shortly after the event.

There are so many reasons that people go to these things, I would have to say that my main reason for wanting to go is that I am making an effort to open up.  Having lived a good portion of my life hiding from others, this is something I am hoping to use as a catalyst to start building friendships again.

In looking at it, I can see that it has already started working out for me, as I am now talking with some people that I have not seen in years and we have become very close.  I in one case, there is a person I am talking to that I have known since third grade, or thereabouts.

So… While I am not holding out any undue hope, I am anxious to see if this is going to be me turning a new chapter in my life and bettering who I am.

We shall see…


And as with the last time… I will be posting pictures here of the event.  Even the potentially embarrassing dance fiasco, if it happens.

…It came out of nowhere!

Where is nowhere?

Seriously, I think that if mankind ever want to truly achieve something remarkable, we need to pull together the help of all the scientists in the world to research where this place is and find a way to open it up to the world.

My reason for talking about such an abstract thought as nowhere is because of the career path I have chosen.   No, not computers, though I would have to say that many of the people I have helped over the years have a better chance of finding nowhere than they have of learning how to use the computers that they own or that they are set in front of.

My reasons for this topic are because of one of the comments that many people hear in the insurance industry when speaking to a person that has just had an accident.

“[it / he / she / they] came out of nowhere!”

For example… one slightly drizzly morning, I was heading to work and I had the unfortunate pleasure of being witness to an accident.   A small green Honda was traveling a little too fast for the conditions and ran into the rear of a full-sized school bus.   Not a short bus, not a camouflaged bus, not a bus from the local military reserve that had some super-secret stealth technology.   It was just a bright, school-bus yellow, school bus.

Because I witnessed the accident and because I am a nice guy like that, I stuck around and waited for the police to arrive.  The driver of the car was not badly hurt, just a bit shaken.  And needless to say, the driver of the bus barely noticed anything and seemed mildly annoyed at having to wait around for the police.   To be honest, I am not sure who called the police, or why, but they were called.

In time, a police technician showed up, as did an ambulance, fire truck and an off-duty Sheriff’s officer, though he seemed more interested in the female police technician than in the accident, and a small VW bug with about ten clowns in it (OK.. I made up the part about the VW.)  But the gang was all there and talking to the bus driver and the driver of the car.   It was not until the tow truck showed up that things got interesting, and helped to spawn this topic.

When the tow truck driver was talking to the guy driving the car, he made the mistake of asking him what happened.   Among other comments about the weather, the fact that somehow the road what not laid down correctly and I am sure there may have been something in his excuse about the alignment of the stars and maybe Jupiter was rising in Virgo… he said, “I don’t know! That bus came out of nowhere, man!”

Thus came to be my interest in nowhere.   This magical, mystical place that seems to house bright yellow buses, trees, dogs, cats (well, cats I have to excuse, if there is any creature that knows about dimensional doorways into someplace as elusive as nowhere, then a cat would be it.) Fire hydrants, other cars, houses, etc…  Wherever this nowhere place is, it must look like a Costco or Wal-Mart on the inside.

Personally I see a large warehouse style building.   There are bays, bays that look like what you would see in a large scale auto repair center, but these bays are stocked with trees, cars, cats, dogs, other people (usually the elderly or infirm), school buses, garbage trucks, taxis, etc…   miles of bays like this lined up.   At each bay there is a person working at a terminal… waiting.   Then, suddenly his terminal lights up, and there is a countdown.  Lights flash, sirens sound and he (or she, as I am sure that it would be a EEOC employer) pulls a lever.   There is a rush, a dimensional portal opens and whatever stations that person is called upon to man, send their wares out to the predetermined location.

Meanwhile, in a small suburban community, a teenage driver, only have had his learner’s permit for a couple weeks, hits a train that…  “…came out of nowhere.”

The Eeyore Complex…

I am the Samurai, and I have an Eyore complex.

They tell us from an early age that admitting you have a problem is half the cure.  Well…  there you go.  I have an Eyore complex.

For those of you who might not understand, I strongly suggest that you rent any of the Winnie the Pooh movies or shows and pay particular attention to the donkey.

That is not to say I am an ass, though there are many that would say that this is, indeed, the case.  It is more that I have a particularly self destructive and self deprecating personality.

I have never been the type of person to see the good in myself or my accomplishments.  It is just my nature and has been for so long, that I really do not know how to be any other way or how to teach myself to grow out of it.  So I have learned to incorporate it into my sense of humor and overall personality.

There are certain places that I cannot mold this personality defect into, though.  I mean, would you take someone who nicknamed themselves or had a website named “SamuraiEEyore” seriously…  That is, of course, assuming that you take me or anything I have to say, seriously.

Wait… do not answer that.  Let me have my moment of fantasy here.

But you see… there is a certain amount of good in being “Clinically EEyoric”.   This is to say, always understanding that you are a magnetic well for all misfortune in the universe.  It means that you grow up learning that there are certain truths in the universe that pertain only to you and affect only you, or so it might seem.

It is almost like being, dare I say… a Super Hero…  at least in the sense that I seem to have the knack of taking away the bad luck of others and absorbing it myself.  So would that actually be a Super Hero, or an Anti-Super Hero?

In reading up and doing a bit of research on the “Eeyore Effect” and the “Eeyore Complex”. it appears that there are a few others out there that seem to share this gift.  I will not provide links to the sites that I have found, though I will say that they are easy to find if you to your searches right.

Now… I shall retreat to my secret lair and plot my next feat… coming up with a “Battle Cry”…  Fare thee well!

Flowers for Men…

It has been many years, but I once received flowers at work from my wife.

To say it was an unusual experience is an understatement.  But to say that it was not welcomed, is untrue.

Typically men will send flowers to their wives, girlfriends, lovers, etc… sometimes all three at the same time, though that is topic for another posting.  But the reverse is not as common.  You do not hear of a woman sending her Husband, boyfriend, lover, etc… (again, sometimes all three.) flowers.

I think, from the man’s point of view, there is a little bit of intimidation to the idea of a woman sending him flowers.  It is a little more aggressive than some men are probably use to or want.  I can even see how this might drive a wedge into a budding relationship.  Face it, men like to feel like they are at the helm of the relationship.  Receiving flowers, especially in someplace as public as work or in the presence of friends, can lead to a little embarrassment.

Speaking from the point of veiw of a guy who has gotten flowers at work.  It is a little bit of a red faced moment, to be sure.  But it is fun.  You can let the minds of your fellow workers wander a little bit as to why you are getting them and from whom.  You do not need to tell them all the facts.

So… for those few ladies that might read this blog… send your men (Husbands, Lovers, Boyfriends, or all three at the same time) flowers some time… just to see what happens.  If you really want to mix things up put some little “naughty” note on the flowers.   You know the co-workers will read it and they will start the rumors.

Love is meant to be fun and have fun… you just have to find the things that inspire you.

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