So is there anyone here who hasn't heard Cee Lo Green's single "Fuck You"? If not, check out this video. This song is f'n addictive. I find myself singing it in the car, in the shower and at work. It's a little slice of vulgar heaven. The production is straight out of Motown in the late 60's. I can hear Diana Ross singing this tune in my head.
There's a clean version of the song called "Forget You". Gwyneth Paltrow even covered it on Glee a few weeks ago.
Gwyneth Paltrow. I am in love...
My kids love that version. My son loves the line "I guess he's an Xbox, and I'm more Atari." Even my daughter knows most of the words. On one hand, I feel a little guilty knowing the source material, but on the other if they're going to listen to music, this is a great tune to fall in love with.
FYI - Cee Lo became a grandfather this week at the ripe old age of 35.
Let's start with a recommendation. For those of you who don't follow John Hnat's blog, I suggest you start. When he's not talking about running, it's a good read. Unfortunately, he's terrible at posting regular updates and has cancelled it at least twice.
In the world of bloggers, he's a prima-donna. If he's looking for positive reinforcement, he's picked the wrong hobby.
The reason I bring this up, is that I made his blog this week. This is probably as close as I'll ever get to making headlines in the "mainstream media". John's assessment is dead on, but the title of his post is a complete mess - he never does explain the whole "Noodle Salad" thing.
My comment about thanking The Ex came off as a little snarky in my post, but that really wasn't my intent. In a lot of ways my life is already better than before the divorce filing. It's more exciting, more rewarding and I've developed a much stronger bond with my kids. I no longer take anything for granted. I feel like I've woken up from a trance.
The process of growth and self-discovery that I've gone through in the last six months was only possible due to the shit sandwich The Ex served me in June. It woke me up to the unexplored potential in my life. John's post also got me thinking about the topic of "happiness" and why I haven't been posting as often as I should.
Why am I so hard on myself? I've recently begun a program of self-nagging about my lack of blog postings. In fact, I'm only typing this to get myself off my own back.
That seems twisted in some way.
Look, my life is pretty damn boring right now. I'm happy. From a literary perspective, happy is boring. How many best selling memoirs are there about happy people? And I'm not talking about people who are happy thanks to the huge royalty checks they get from their memoirs.
I don't have anything insightful to say. With the exception of days I have to go to court, I'm not feeling any great remorse or pain. I'm pretty much just having a damn good time with my family and friends while I bide my time before I start the next chapter of my life. Heck, it can't come fast enough. Hope and excitement are not the stuff great blog postings are made of.
This is strange to think, but I am really looking forward to starting over. Don't get me wrong, if I make a promise I keep a promise, but the Ex divorcing me is going to go down as the best gift she ever gave me.
Even better than the golf clubs.
Once she's gone I can get to the business of living again. My life before was comfortable and safe, but it pretty much sucked all the joy out of a room. Life now is exciting and new. There are new people to meet, new experiences to savor and new things to learn.
Time to throw open the door and shout "NEXT!" I'm pretty comfortable in saying, operation "Letting Go" is complete. There is not a single part of me that wants my old life back anymore. It took a long time, but even the casual slips have come to an end. I no longer reminisce about days gone by.
I do still occasionally refer to The Ex as "my wife". That has to stop.
Okay, so what does any of that have to do with happiness? Do you have a point?
I am my own worst critic. I hold myself to a pretty high standard. This probably stems from my relationship with my Dad. He had high standards for me, but he had exponentially higher standards for himself. Now that he's gone I think I may have adopted some of those positions.
Having high standards is good, but beyond a certain point they become a hindrance and an inhibitor to personal satisfaction. Think of Reese Bobby instructing his young son Ricky Bobby, "If you ain't first, you're last." The problem with this philosophy is that it is an all or nothing didactic. Life is defined as success or failure, with no partial credit.
Yes, much of my deep, personal philosophical direction comes from Will Ferrell movies.
It's a recipe for unhappiness, because in real life, we rarely finish first. In those cases anything short of perfection can be interpreted as abject failure. In my limited experience, highly driven people have a problem maintaining happiness due to their very high personal standards. I have found myself falling into this trap from time to time.
Probably the worst example of this is my intense competitive streak. Whether it is softball, bowling, darts or golf, I hate to perform at less than 100%. I don't mind the losing. What bothers me is beating myself. We can be up seven runs or down ten, and yet if I swing at a bad pitch I will curse myself all the way back to the bench. It makes any sport less enjoyable than it otherwise should be. It might be why I am drawn to fishing - no competition.
As Reese Bobby says in the end, "Hell boy, I was high when I said that. There are lots of other places to finish. You can be second, or third, or fourth. Hell, even fifth." The key is to maintain high personal standards for success, but not at the expense of being able to enjoy the journey. In all things other than organized sports, I prefer to be first, but I don't have a problem finishing fourth. Hell, even fifth.
That does not apply to fantasy football. If I'm not first, I'm last.
Even though I am mired in the middle of this mess of a divorce, I still consider myself to be a pretty happy guy. Sure, things occasionally get me down, but I don't let my mis-steps or failures define me. I work hard and I play harder. I am responsible and dependable, but I am not afraid to embarrass myself for a laugh. I think I finally understand (after 42 years) that life isn't so much about winning or losing, it's about how you play the game.
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I'm trying to work up the courage to write a post about dating. It'd be a great read if I could bring myself to accept the embarrassment.
Happy Holidays!
Bob, I was right up there with you until your blog talked about being competitive in darts. Dude, I'm a hell of a lot better in darts than you this year! The stats don't lie and the days of you telling me when I'm shooting for an out, "Don't F@#K-It Up" are history, finis, kaput, zilch. . . . .
ReplyDeleteAnd finally, to you and your family; have a safe and joyous holiday!
Hi Bob,
ReplyDeleteMy name is Nicole and I’m friends with John Hnat. After reading John’s blog last week and surviving a divorce myself I decided to peruse your blog. I must say I was hooked at the mention of two of my favorite sinful pleasures Cee Lo Green’s single “Fuck You,” and the show Glee. Then you teased John (who I love as a friend and know can handle teasing because we’re both smart assess) and I became a follower.
I agree with both of you in the fact, yes, divorce seems like a new lease on life after a status quo mundane marriage. I used to think to myself that my marriage and feelings toward my ex spouse were like a roller coaster. I experienced highs where I was deeply in love with my ex husband and lows where I thought “who the fuck did I marry?” I have nothing in common with my spouse and I’m stuck and alone. He cheated, long story, I’m free.
Savor the feeling of excitement and savor the feeling of freedom as long as you can. Live life, enjoy every moment with your kids and spend time with friends and family who love you, keep people in your life that have your back and those that don’t kick to the curb. Life’s too short. Go fishing but play sports too knowing an occasional “shitbomb” will fly after you swing at a bad pitch (or in my case a bad volley) then channel Billy Chapel and “clear the mechanism,” for the next pitch or chapter in your life.