Swimmin' Without Women

It's Tuesday morning. It's cold in my house. Not because of anything having to do with the climate or the environment. The A/C is blasting as it will all summer. It's actually pretty warm outside although it's not even 8:00 AM. 

I sit down at my computer to write as I do most mornings and I am a little more awake than I might otherwise be. It's not the coffee. It's the pool. I took a little swim this morning. I was letting out the dogs (I guess I've answered that Baja Men question - sorry, it had to be done!) and I decided to do something a little different. I stripped out of my boxers, stepped into my trunks, and went for a dip. I would have preferred to go in my birthday suit but I don't have that level of privacy in my yard, unfortunately. Time to build a taller fence.

I didn't go into the pool with any kind of agenda. I didn't tell myself I'd swim ten laps or do that aqua-aerobics stuff they do at the YMCA pool. I just floated around and listened to the world waking up. I heard the sounds of cars on the road. I heard road construction a couple of blocks away. It was just me and my ears. 

It's a good thing to go out once in a while and just be. You don't need music or even a companion. My dogs were living their own lives, not worrying about me. My family is inside asleep. There is nothing but me and the water and that is all I need. It's a nice transition from asleep to the hectic action that follows on any given day. 

I tried to guide my thoughts toward projects I'm currently working on but nothing doing. I let it go, It was too early and the water was too calm and too warm for anything structured. I let my thoughts go where the wind and the leaves and the noise of the world led them. And that was all right. I'll be out there again tomorrow. Maybe without my bathing suit... maybe not.

Find your quiet spot. Enjoy it. Soak it up a while. 

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

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Day Drinking

I work at home. Most writers do. I traveled last week and my homes was a cabin in the mountains of West Yellowstone, Montana. The view from the window in front of my little writing desk was spectacular, if a bit distracting.

See, I live in South Florida. What's a mountain? We complain about speed bumps. We are at sea level. Standing on a box can make your ears pop. Need I go on? Good.

So now I'm home. It's a thousand degrees in the shade. I have to work and since I am home, the bar beckons. I look up recipes. I stare at the bar. The bar stares at me. I dream of a Long Island Iced Tea, or an old fashioned or even a beer.

But I hold back. I am no Don Draper. When the drinking starts, the working stops. So I don't drink until I am done with work. I'm not telling you what to do and I don't judge, but I'm going to stick to what works for me. You do you, baby!

I'm blessed not to have an addictive personality, by which I mean I don't have addictions. Many have been addicted to me... shut up. It's my blog and I'll lie if I want to. Still, I don't want to take the chance of making drinking or drugs a crutch. Not for writing, not for life, not for any reason at all. So... I drink after I work.

There's a quote attributed (wrongly) to Ernest Hemingway: Write Drunk, Edit Sober. I would rather do the whole process sober. There'll be time to drink when the writing's done.

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

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Gathering Information

I just came back from a week in West Yellowstone, Montana. It is, without a doubt, one of my favorite places in the world. I stayed in a cabin on a ranch. I rode horses and went whitewater rafting. I went to Yellowstone National Park and to Mesa Falls in Idaho. It was a great, badly-needed vacation. As much as I love my home, my bed, my pillow and my dogs, I hated coming back.

This was my second visit to West Yellowstone. I came back from my first trip very inspired and immediately began writing a novel about the place. I hit the wall at about a hundred pages. So, I went up this year thinking I would find the spark and get the story written finally!

I skipped one of the horse rides we had scheduled so I could get to work on my story. I wrote about a thousand words. A whole new story about the same place. That was a week ago. I've given up... for now!

I think the problem is that I'm trying to force the book to happen. It never works that way. These things come when they want to come. It's not that I haven't been writing. I've been working every day and I've been editing. The story needs a little more time to percolate. Or maybe it needs to marinate. Whatever it is, it doesn't need to be forced. That's a great way to kill what could be a great story.

Gather the facts, breathe the air, feel the breeze, see the sights. Listen to the people talk and learn their stories. Their stories become yours. These people become the characters in your stories. You are not stealing from them, you are immortalizing them. Nobody wants to live forever, but nobody wants to die. And certainly no one wants to be forgotten.

So take notes and bide your time. The story will come when it's ready.

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

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The Every Day

So... how's your quarantine going?

Ready to go outside?

Oh... riots.

So... how are you passing the time? I hope you're not binge-watching bad TV shows that you've already watched. I hope you're taking at least a little time to improve yourself. Maybe you're reading a book. Maybe you're fixing up your house. Maybe you've taken up watercolors. Are you writing that book you've been dreaming about writing? Get to it.

The pandemic has pushed us out of our comfort zone by locking us in the most comfortable of places: our homes. Home is great when you have the opportunity to leave at will. Otherwise, it's a prison. Some great stories were written about prisons. Stories like Papillon, Escape from Alcatraz, The Count of Monte Cristo, and others. Any of those stories would help you appreciate how comfy your "prison" is.

I realize this is coming late. I've been a little caught up with other things and I have been ignoring this blog. I've been doing a lot of work for The Liberty Drip, which is a political blog I contribute to, I've also completed a novella, the completion of the Man In The Gray Sky trilogy scheduled to be released in the summer; and a new novel, which I hope to release in the fall.

I also took care of some home improvement projects including an above-ground pool and a nice area to enjoy my backyard. Just in time for the rainy season! Hooray!

So, don't let the lockdown get you down. Don't become a victim of your circumstances. Instead, make the most of the time you have and create something beautiful.

Keep doing what you do!

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

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The Nomadic Imperative

Often you will hear someone tell you they want to live a nice quiet life. We have been convinced that all we really want is some variation of what we see on TV. A spouse, a kid or two, maybe a dog or a cat, perhaps a witty guinea pig or a bird. We want a car and we want two weeks vacation every year plus weekends off. Except the guinea pig and the bird. They're relatively new. And I'm allergic to cats so I have two dogs.

This has been my life for nearly thirty years and I can tell you I was sold a lie.

This is not to say I haven't been happy. I have been. I am happy. But, I am also restless. I feel like I am cheating myself. I feel like I am giving up on my dreams. I remind myself that I am young enough to still go out and do the things I want to do. Then my back hurts, and I remember I am not as young as I imagine myself to be. Young at heart, old just about everywhere else.

Is this what Thoreau meant when he talked about men living lives of quiet desperation? Is this why I work to fill the void? I don't really know. I don't think anyone could know. I do know it sucks and while the intensity of these feelings increases and decreases, they never quite go away.

I've lived in the same area most of my life. I am, as I write this, 30 minutes from where I grew up, went to school, learned to drive, and lost my virginity. I long to move, but I have responsibilities. I want to walk, to seize the road, but I can't. It would be irresponsible, and I can't do that.

Ernest Hemingway said that to live in one land is captivity. Well, shit. He was right. Not that everyone who lives a stable, successful middle-class existence is unhappy. I can see people choosing this life. I can see its appeal. Maybe it's because I have no choice that I feel the urge to move on.

I feel the urge, but I will fight the urge. I ain't going nowhere. For now. But if I do decide to go, you'll read it here first.

The views expressed by the author are his alone and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of anyone anywhere.

Adolfo Jimenez is the chair of the elections committee of the Libertarian Party of Broward County. He is an author, poet, and blogger. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. He has published eight books, which you can find here.

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A Poem Because Why Not

I normally reserve these pages for reflections on writing or my life, but today,
I decided to share a poem from my book, Scorpions for Breakfast, which was
released this week. I hope you enjoy it.

TRIPPING THROUGH THE GARDEN

We go tripping though life

Socks covered in thistles

Bug bites on exposed skin

Sun coming down

Heat coming up

Here comes the rain

Here comes the night

Here comes the snow

Tripping through another day

Every minute a trek

A lost moment

A dandelion

Pistils

Petals

Pedestrians

Petunias

Peonies

And we go tripping through the flowers

We romp through roses

We gather among gardenias

We hibernate in the hibiscus

We ogle at oleander

We trip through the garden

We snort the pollen

We eat the seeds

And kill the future of the garden

We let it rain and watch it grow

Lay in the sun and let it burn

We are the wicked gardeners

Tripping through sacred gardens

Sleeping on the lawn

Tripping on a blade of grass

Tripping after dawn

We are the landscapers

Cutting trees

Killing them to make them pretty

Beauty in death is the only beauty for those who kill

Tripping on beauty after dawn

Tripping on broken limbs

Of trees

Of men

Of women

Of children

Tripping on one another as we dash

To kill the trees

Tripping on the carcases of trees we killed

Tripping on roots

We wait for the flowers to bloom

We wait for the fruit to rot

We wait for the seed to sprout

We wait for the trip to begin

We wish for the trip to end

We are tripping through the garden

We are tripping through the world

We are tripping on each other

Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He has published eight books. He lives in Hollywood, Florida with his family.  He published four books in 2019, which you can find here.

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The New Guy

On Thanksgiving day 2019, I left my house, planning to go to the grocery store. We have a tradition in my house. My wife will always forget at least one ingredient for the feast and I will brave the wilds of the local Winn-Dixie to procure said ingredient.

As I went into the front yard, my daughter in tow, I saw a little dog in my yard. Alone. Long story short, we rescued him, tried to find the owner and couldn't so now he is part of the family. He was sick and underweight when we found him. He seems to have been abused and is suffering from trauma around food and being crowded. Sudden moves will startle him. The people who owned him were bastards. It's taken time and treasure, but Maximus Achilles Jimenez is close to being a normal dog. He's still a jerk sometimes, but so is everyone else.

Then, last Saturday, I got the news that a new dog was coming to join the family. His name is Mason. He is a Golden Retriever mix and outweighs Max the chiweenie by about 40 pounds. Max is under five pounds. Not a fair fight. Still, Max is pretty fearless and stands his ground, even if Mason swats him around like a rubber ball, in a friendly, brotherly way but still... it has to be hard on the little guy's ego.

These dogs are a distraction. They are a severe pain in the ass. And, please don't tell them, I love them very much.

Life is better with a dog. Of this, there is no doubt. I am actually allergic to dogs, but it's worth it. The happiness outweighs the itchiness. I can scratch.

The challenge for me is fitting the extra responsibility in with my work. I work at home and I need something near silence. It's hard to get that when I have two yelping madmen losing their minds every time a cat, duck, squirrel or pedestrian dares to walk past my house.

It's only been a few days so we're all getting used to a new routine. Soon, we'll be all right and when we are,  the fun will really start.



Adolfo Jimenez is an author, poet, and blogger. He has published eight books. He lives in Hollywood, Florida with his family.  He published four books in 2019, which you can find here.

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