The Un-Importance of Parking Spaces

 I'm pushing a flatbed cart along a parking lot. It's loaded, piled high with goodies for my business. This is my second such trip today but will not be the last one I make this week. I visit warehouse clubs several times a week to buy product for my business. I run school cafeterias as well as a couple of ghost kitchen concepts, a bakery, and a catering operation. This is in addition to the deliveries I have made once or twice a week.

I buy a lot of stuff.

I buy this stuff so I can sell it. I work a lot of hours. I am typically up before five and I am at work before 6:30. Oftentimes I store supplies in my garage at home. I have an upright refrigerator/freezer and a deep-freeze in my garage for this reason. Dry items and paper goods will often spend the night in my van. 

I wake up early because I walk my dogs and I like to take a little time in the morning to think about the day ahead. Nothing formal, just visualizing. Sometimes my thoughts wander. This lasts about ten minutes. After that, it's off to the races answering emails, checking electronic deposits, walking dogs, loading stuff, waking my wife and getting my kid up for school. I am busy from ten minutes after I wake up until I go to sleep.

This is why I don't wait or even look for a good parking space. It's a waste of my time. People will spend ten minutes looking for and waiting on a "good" parking spot when they could park just down the way and walk an extra two minutes.

This doesn't make sense to me. I don't have the patience or the time to wait for parking spaces. I spend so much of my day walking and carrying things that I don't need a gym. I could still stand to lose a couple of pounds. (Maybe a couple dozen but who's counting?)

I treat my time like the precious, limited commodity it is. I am not going to spend an extra moment of it waiting for a parking space. I don't have that kind of time or patience. I would be embarrassed to be the kind of person who does that.

If you are one of those people who searches and waits for the perfect parking space, examine your life. Think about how many hours you have in a day that are truly yours. Think of how many years you have left to live. Then think of how many of those you want to spend waiting for a parking space. Time waits for no one. No one should wait for a parking space.

Adolfo Jimenez is an entrepreneur, author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here. Adolfo is the co-owner of The Cafeteria Company, a commissary outsourcing firm. He also co-owns Soup -n- Sam, Le Velo Macaron, and Starlight Catering.

Why Dreams Matter More Than Reality

I am a business owner. I enjoy what I do. I enjoy making decisions. I like the fact that people depend on the services I provide and the paychecks I sign. It's one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. One of the most rewarding. Not the most rewarding. 

I am, behind the entrepreneur/business owner facade, an artist. I am a writer. I am a performer. I enjoy getting up in front of a crowd and presenting whatever it is I'm presenting. I've been a corporate trainer. I taught a comedy class. I've done improvisational comedy. I've made corporate presentations. I've given political speeches and invocations.

If I had my druthers, I would write all morning and dazzle audiences all night. I haven't my druthers. I have... priorities. I have responsibilities and I have commitments. My dreams must continue to be on hold. This is a situation of my own making. I took a seat on this runaway train. I must remain seated until it runs out of steam or goes off the rails.

It's a sad feeling to know that you made the wrong turns. It's sad to know that you zigged when you should have zagged. There's no choice like no choice. I can't blame anyone else. I allowed it to happen. I was not just a passenger on the train. Oftentimes, I was the conductor. Make the decision now, before you're painted into a corner. Make the decision while the decision is still yours to make. If you allow the world to make it for you, it will probably be a decision you won't like.

The world is a screwy place. We don't know what tomorrow brings and we don't know if we'll be here to see it. We only know where we've been and where we are at the moment... sometimes. It's important to pursue your goals and keep dreaming your dreams. Pursue them, too. Make your dreams your goals. Or, at least, make your goals rest stops on the way to your dreams. Do it and you may get there. If you make it, that's great. If you don't, at least you'll have the satisfaction of knowing you did your best and that your life was spent in pursuit of attaining your highest purpose, not something as common as money. The pursuit of happiness is all that matters.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

The New Cool

Spend a little time on social media and it's hard to see how cynicism has become the new cool. I will admit that I am something of a cynic. I was first told this when I was about nineteen years old. I dated a woman in her late twenties (I was mature for my age.) She was intelligent and sophisticated and had a couple of college degrees. I did my best to keep up but when you lack education, as I did at the time, you try to follow along as best you can. (I am still much less educated than I would like to be, but them's the breaks!)

When she called me a cynic, I wasn't a hundred percent sure of what it meant. I know now, and I guess I could say I am a part-time cynic. I spend a lot of time around politics, I read some news on occasion, and I have a Facebook account. How could I not be?

But there is a side of me that wants there to be meaning to everything. There's a part of me that looks for meaning and even tries to create meaning in the most ordinary of things.

But it's so easy to be a cynic. It's practically forced upon us. We're told to hurry, to move along. We're convinced we don't have time to be kind and thoughtful even as we sit on the couch and binge-watch every episode of "Friends" for the third time. Humor, real humor, has been replaced with sarcasm. Good deeds are viewed, you guessed it, cynically.

I think I'll try to become a little less cynical. I'll do my best to see things in a more open and accepting way. I'll try to prove that old girlfriend wrong. Not that's she'll notice. We haven't talked in decades and she'd probably on season whatever of the latest must-see rerun. Oops! There I go again!

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

What If I Don't Like Cake?

Today is my 50th Birthday! Holy crap, when you say it like that. All the cliches apply. I don't feel any different. I look the same as I did yesterday. Everything still works the same, for the most part.

I used to refer to my birthday as inventory day. I would take the day to reflect on the previous 365 days and determine if my life was moving in the right direction. Some people call it a Cake Day. I don't think that's fair to people who don't like cake. I love cake. Don't believe me? I can take my shirt off to prove it. We re-brand everything. This is nothing new, it's just that our re-branding, like everything else, happens faster than it used to. You hardly get used to the new word for something before it becomes the old world for something.

My wife and I have been together 21 years. We realized a couple of days ago, as we were signing documents for work to be done on our house, that it was the 18th anniversary of the day we moved in. It's nice to know that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Being married to the same woman and living in the same house for so long may sound unexciting to some, but I am happy and grateful, and while there have been some low points, we really manage to keep it exciting, fresh, and interesting. We never had a honeymoon, so we decided our life now will be one very long honeymoon with breaks for work and family, etc. Life gave us lemons. We froze them for a while and now we're making margaritas!

Now that I'm at the half-century mark, I am supposed to have new perspectives and wisdom. I don't. My philosophy and worldview did not change overnight. From this point of view, age is really just a number. My knees may disagree.

I got my convertible a few years ago. This year, I got a motorcycle. Who knows what sixty will bring?

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

Keeping it Loco

I did something this morning I haven't done in a long time. I read the local news. I read the Miami Herald and Sun Sentinel. Not every article, but some articles. And I read from their websites. I am not in possession of actual newsprint. I hear it still exists, but it has more to do with coupons and birdcages than with news. It's just as well.

Browsing the pages I found a lot of opinion, a lot of tragedy, and a localized version of the same stuff I see on national news sites. Wear a mask! Delta Variant will kill you even if you haven't been born yet! Conservatives are bad! Liberals are good! Opinion disguised as news. 

This is not meant to be a political post. I guess I'm just sharing why I stopped reading local news. I don't follow sports anymore, so there's no value for me there. I don't care that the hipsters of the world now prefer Fort Lauderdale to Wynwood. I was, however, surprised to learn that my hometown is one of the horniest places in America. What a time to be alive! (And married!)

There was a time in my live when I couldn't live without the news. I was a certified news junkie. I blogged about the experience for the better part of a year. You can read that blog here. It's for sale, don't judge me. I got bills to pay.

I am happy that this time has passed. I still have very strong opinions and can still argue effectively for or against many positions. How do I do this? I learned a lot when I was an addict, and the crap politicians on both sides of the aisle are trying to pull is no different now than it was then. It's like riding a bicycle. The biggest difference is that this is a bike you don't mind falling from.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

The Gray Hours

 The greatest con ever perpetrated against humanity, is convincing people that time is not precious. I am nearly fifty years old. Statistically, I have lived more than half the years I will get to live. I find myself in the interesting spot of anticipating my regrets. I am proactively thinking of things to put in the bucket list so I don't end up regretting things I didn't do.

I have always been an early riser. I also get by on relatively little sleep. I learned long ago to put this to my advantage though I need to remind myself of this every now and then. I need to remind myself that just because the day starts early for me, doesn't mean I get more time. I get 24 hours like everyone else. Wasting the extra hours I don't spend sleeping makes no sense. Might as well sleep.

I am in my new office, at my new desk in my house. I am in the gray early morning with a window to my left that faces east. The sun is up somewhere out there but it's still warming up so there is more shadow than light in this little room. Everyone else in my house is asleep. Even the dogs want nothing to do with the day. I'm glad for it. This is the part of time that belongs to me.

So, use your time wisely. Even when there is nothing that needs doing, don't waste your life doing nothing.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

An Earned Advantage

I'm sitting at my dining room table reading an article. My wife is leaning on the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in her hands. It's Saturday. We have the day off. There is a man crawling around our attic installing a new central air conditioner.

I share my thoughts on the article with my wife and she tells me I am a smart cookie. I'm not sure I agree. I have an advantage over many people, though. I know how to read. I earned that advantage. It's not like being born tall and good-looking. I don't have those unearned advantages. My parents made sure I can read. That I enjoy reading and devote significant time to it, may be something I earned, or may be something I was born with.

Because I am a man who will look for any advantage he can get, I tell my wife that the only real proof of my intelligence is that I married her. She smiles, walks over and kisses me. I steal her coffee. What do you know about that? I am smart!

I never finished high school. I got my GED at 24 and took some classes at the community college. No degree. But I read every day. I read books, magazines, newspapers, anything I can get my hands on. This has been my advantage. I learned what I wanted to learn, what I felt would be useful; not what a college administrator wanted me to learn. I'm better for it. And... no debt!

If you're taking the time to read this, you may share that same earned advantage. In which case, good for you, and thanks for stopping by!

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

Staring Down The Barrel

In six days, I will be fifty years old. Damn. It only matters when you think about it. Unfortunately, you think about it all the time. I feel no different than I did yesterday. The same aches and pains have followed me around for years. My fault for living a relatively sedentary life. I do walk a lot and my business keeps me active, but I don't exercise in the traditional sense.

So the years keep coming. Until they don't. Who knows what's next.

Age shows up in strange ways. Like having a coffee with your cheeseburger at McDonald's. And mail seems to be very important to me now. I mean, I check the mailbox on Sundays and national holidays. Yesterday, I got home and I looked and,,, no mail! I was genuinely baffled. I came inside and it turned out my daughter had brought it in. I grounded her. Took away her phone. If she wants to cut off my communication with the outside world, so be it! Two can play at that game.

I find that even though I know I will likely live another 30-plus years, I feel like I have to squeeze in as much as possible. I wish I'd had this feeling when I was twenty. How much more could I have accomplished? God only knows.

I am at once crankier and more laid back. I let things go that used to drive me up the wall, and I am annoyed by things that didn't matter a few short years ago. 

I spent so much of my youth worrying about the world and consuming every scrap of news I could get my hands on that now, when I see the world is burning, I make s'mores.

I am convinced the world is worse than it's ever been, just like my father did. And his father before him, and his father, and so on and so forth.

I am proud of the things I can still do. I miss the things I no longer can do. The ones I remember, anyway.

I am proud to still be married. I am prouder still that I love her more than ever.

I value my time and do all I can to save it and make it count. Then I plop my fat ass down in front of the TV, which is something I didn't used to do.

I am self-aware. This essay proves it.

I have no idea what is going on in the world around me. This essay proves it. (I'm proud of that one.) I let my children live their lives. I only guide when I am invited onto the raft. Otherwise, like everything in this life, I just let them go with the flow.

I guess I should confess that I didn't take my kid's phone away or ground her. But I thought about it.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

The New Timeline

 I am researching stand-up paddle boards. I've been contemplating the purchase for quite a while. The feeling comes and goes. I really want one! Can't live without it! And then something else comes along and grabs my attention and the board idea sinks. I can't be the only one who experiences this. Surely, there are others.

Of course, researching products will inevitably lead you to reading reviews. Reviews can be helpful and, perhaps incidentally, entertaining.

Lately, as I read reviews, the theme I keep coming across is the pandemic, specifically how the lockdown affected people's purchasing decisions. This is by no means a scientific thing, but I can't help noticing how the illegal government-mandated lockdowns affected people.

I won't go into it all as it's been played out. I only wanted to make one simple observation.

Time used to be designated as BC or AD. We are living in AD 2021. The way I have begun to look at time now is a different BC. It's Before Covid. I'd like to believe there will eventually be an AL, meaning After Lockdown, but I have no expectation that the government will ever be inclined to give back its power.

We are living in the Age of Covid. It was nearing its conclusion so the Delta Variant was released. I don't know much about it, but I know that it has already been weaponized by the state. I don't know there will ever be a post-lockdown world. I think we'll just watch Big Brother turn the volume up when necessary. 

I hope I'm wrong, but you and I both know I'm not.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

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A Contactless Future

 The COVID-19 plandemic and its fallout should have become a distant memory by now, but the government would never let such a useful “crisis” go to waste. They made the mistake of giving us an inch, we took a mile, and now the Delta Variant has been unleashed upon the populace.

As I sit here in the early morning gloom of a rainy South Florida summer day, I am browsing articles, investment opportunities, and the like. I keep finding how Contactless features have been incorporated into everything from groceries to real estate transactions. Even as the pandemic fails, the main symptom, which is the fear of coming into close proximity to other people, keeps getting its lease on life extended.

Add this to cancel culture, critical race theory, political correctness, and the general vitriol we are living with here in Don and Joe’s Great American Experiment, and it’s getting harder to feel optimistic about America’s future.

I am a touchy-feely guy, though I save that mostly for my loved ones. I don’t want to never shake a stranger’s hand. I don’t want to be afraid to hand something, anything, to another human being. I am not an island and I don’t want to be. 

Give me contact or give me death!

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

Death and Distance

It’s about five in the morning Montana time. The sun is out though not yet shining as brightly as I hope it will the rest of the day. I am in bed. I hear the familiar, rhythmic buzz of my phone. A call is coming in. Someone back home on the East Coast. Someone who doesn’t know where I am. Not that it matters. I’ll only be here a week. I hope I keep my sleep pattern just as it is until I return.

It is a family friend calling. My uncle in Cuba passed away in the night. My mother’s brother. My mom is still sleeping. That’s good. She needs her rest with all she’s been through. The friend asks if she should wake mom and tell her the news or would I like to tell her. I think this kind of news should be delivered in person whenever possible.

I sent a message to my cousin in Cuba, offering her my condolences for the death of her father. She called me a few minutes later. We chat and I again offer my sympathies. My wife is awake now and I tell her what has happened while we were sleeping. The family friend calls a few minutes later to let me know she has spoken with my mom. I call her and she is, understandably, upset. I tell her to stay calm and to not drive or stress herself out. She tells me that if the initial shock didn’t kill her, none of this will. Her little brother is dead. She has to tell her big sister, my aunt.

The news of my uncle’s death passed from Cuba to Hialeah, Florida, to West Yellowstone, Montana, back to Hialeah, to my mother, who was right next to the family friend who called me with the news in the first place. In the meantime, I spoke to my cousin, who is about two thousand miles away but only about three hundred miles away from my mother, who will eventually call her sister who is about ten miles away in Pembroke Pines, Florida.

Because my uncle died in Cuba, we will not be able to attend his funeral. We will not get together and share memories and laugh and cry the way one does to cope with the loss. We will talk or text. We may receive pictures but we will not hear the music or the sobs. Our shoulders will remain dry as we will not be able to offer them to comfort a relative. We will each grieve our own grief and cry our own tears. Our pain will be more personal. The loss will not be shared, but divided. Each of us will carry our own piece of it.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

Something About A Horse

If you’ve never ridden a horse, you probably should try it. The younger you are, the better. It’s hard on the knees and the hips. It’s also tough to know that your life is in the hands of an animal that can throw you off and trample you in a heartbeat. If it was so inclined.

As I write this, I can feel the pain in my knees subsiding. I spent three hours on a horse this morning. I am in Montana, one of my favorite and least favorite places in the world. I love it here because it is beautiful and it’s where my daughter lives. I hate it here because the beauty and nature of the place makes me forget that guys with knees as bad as mine probably shouldn’t ride horses up in the mountains for three hours.

Not that I won’t do it again. I will do it until the pain gets to be too much or until the wranglers sit me down and tell me that this particular horse has gone to pasture. I did not grow up around horses. I went on my first horse ride two years ago. I am not sure if I’ll be back. 

But you should definitely give it a try. It’s fun and it’s a nice, relaxing way to give up control for a while. It’s nice to be a passenger and not a driver. I am not speaking for experienced horsemen and women when I say this, but you are never really in control when riding a horse. You are driving in the rain at night in  a car with bald tires. You might get through it in one piece but no one would be shocked if you come home with a busted collarbone. You can kick the horse to make it move. You can pull the reins to stop it or pull them left or right to steer the horse. But these are just suggestions. If the horse doesn’t want to cooperate, it won’t. I don’t know about you, but I don’t kick that hard.

Of course, if you do get through it, if you are able to relax enough to enjoy being a passenger, if you are able to live in that particular moment, listen to the birds, admire the trees and feel the breeze in your face, you might come away with a different perspective. You might find something you didn’t know you were looking for.

 

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

The People In My Neighborhood

    I've lived in the same house for nearly 19 years. My daughters both took their first steps in this house and although the elder child did live in a different place before we moved here, it was for the first nine months of her life so she doesn't remember a minute of it. This is their home. It always has been, and in many ways it always will be.

    I rode my bike to the grocery store this morning to pick up a baguette and some coffee creamer. I live in south Florida so you can guess which grocery store I went to. There are two kinds of people in Florida: those who shop at Publix, and those who just moved here from somewhere horrible. They'll come around on the grocery thing, maybe, but they'll keep voting like assholes.

    I swung by the bakery to pick up a baguette because that's as European as I get. (Baguette on a bicycle? How Parisian!) I ran into a lady who has worked at this store for fifteen years. She knows us by name and asks about my wife and my daughters. I hadn't seen her for quite some time and she was surprised to know my daughter is away at college. We chatted a little more and she mentioned how she's known my daughter since she was a toddler and my younger daughter since she was still a bun in the oven. 

    The bond my family shares with this lady is real. There is more than the usual hi and bye, these are the people in your neighborhood thing. There is genuine warmth and caring there. That makes my neighborhood special to me.

    My neighbors across the street are closer, more personal friends. We go out together, we drink together, we hang out in the median that divides our street together. If they were to move away, I would miss them dearly. You can't really choose your neighbors anymore than you can choose your family, so they are a winning lottery ticket. The neighbors on either side of my house are another story. I'll save that for another day.

    The truth is that all these people make up my neighborhood. There are many others, some of which I like, others I don't care for, and some I downright hate. I'm sure I'm on each of those lists for other people, too. A neighborhood is a microcosm of the world, much the way a workplace or classroom or line at the grocery store is. There are over 7 billion people in the world. No way we're all going to like one another.

    Still, just because we don't all love each other, doesn't mean we need to hate each other. Although, it is your absolute right to hate people for any reason you see fit. You can hate people because of their race, their orientation, their religion, the way they dress, or any other reason. In fact, I will defend your right to be prejudiced against people. Because I'm smart enough to know that your feelings about people mean absolutely nothing. As long as you are never aggressive or violent, your hate is your problem. Drink up and choke on it enjoy! I choose to live and let live and to love as many people as I can. 

    Love is my default position. When I meet a person, I do so expecting to love that person. Sometimes I never see them again. Other times, they are part of my life for a season or for many years. I don't like everyone, though. In fact, I can honestly say there are more people I love than people I like.

    Have I digressed? Apologies.

    The people in my neighborhood, good or bad, make my neighborhood a place I enjoy living. Just like I tell my wife that the man she loves (me, I hope!) is who he is because of the good, bad, and ugly things he went through before he was lucky enough to find her.

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.

2 Flights in 22 Years

 The first time I traveled on business, and possibly the first time I flew by myself, was in 1999. I was twenty-eight years old. Now, as I am somewhere above the Rocky Mountains with my wife and daughters, I have to reflect on how much has changed. I remember that first business trip. I flew American from Miami to Dallas on a mostly empty plane. I had a row of seats to myself. I was given a meal. I was even offered seconds. Ditto the return flight. Now, this plane is packed, barely room for a thought. The first leg was Miami to Dallas and now we’re on our way to Bozeman, Montana for a vacation. Our third consecutive year of flying out here and spending a week at a ranch in West Yellowstone. We’ll ride horses, make smores, go whitewater rafting and eat a surprisingly good slice of pizza.

I am, as I write this, sick to my stomach. I had a 7-11 breakfast in Dallas and cookies and a Coke on the flight. We’re three hours or so behind schedule because Texans seem to be afraid of rain. I live in South Florida. Rain is something that’s just… there.

This is not just a fat guy whining because he didn’t get a meal on the flight. I feel bad for the crew. I hope they brown-bagged it today. It’s just that as I evaluate my current situation 26,000 feet above the earth, I can’t help feeling sad. We’ve lost so much.

I remember being on flights, next to complete strangers, and striking up conversations that lasted from wheels up to touchdown. Now, in-flight entertainment, cellphones and tablets have done away with conversations besides that awkward look that says, “Excuse me, I have to go pee. Get up and let me pass.”

It’s not different from all aspects of life, really. Think back to the last time you were in a doctor’s office. Were there magazines to read? Did you chit chat with others who were waiting? Or, did you just stare at your phone? The more connected we are, the more disconnected we are.This is not an original thought and I don’t mean to try passing it off as one. It just seems worth discussing.

There is a certain irony in the disconnected connection we experience now. We’re able to instantly access news, updates, stock quotes, hotel prices, a ride to the airport or pictures of people far away, some we may know, others we may not know. We gawk at celebrities and gush over kittens while ignoring people with whom we are literally rubbing elbows. I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but it’s weird. 

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published ten books, which you can find here.