We spend so much of our lives at our job, often more than we spend with our families. Somehow, it has become common in this country to place an impersonal distance between ourselves and the people we work with. Folks are quick to tell you that your co-workers are not your friends. I suppose the rationale for that is simple. People depend upon their jobs and can be expected to look out for themselves first and foremost in relation to employment. Although they may seem friendly and personable, given the chance to earn more money or to look good to management, coworkers can almost be expected to chuck you under a bus. Being loyal only to one's self seems to be expected. I think that's a horrible way to live, and I struggled with it all my working life.

In most jobs I had, I left the relationships behind when I moved on to the next opportunities. That is a good demonstration of the difference between friends and coworkers. Thankfully, there is an exception or two. On the job I held the longest (20 years), There are a couple of people I grew close to and with whom I stay in touch. I am about 15 years older than both of them. We hired them when they were pretty fresh out of school. I knew them before they were married, and I've watched them become fathers and move on in their careers.

Peyton came onboard as an intern, wearing a backwards baseball hat and his beloved Cheerios tee shirt. He had a degree in history from our state's flagship university in Chapel Hill, but his interest had turned to tech. He had a knack for figuring things out, and he was exceptionally polite. A very likable guy, it was easy to make him laugh, and I tried to do that at every opportunity. Coincidentally, he grew up living in the same house where I'd lived back in the 70s. He was relatively apolitical, and I harangued him for years with my left wing outlook on life, even taking him with me to organizing meetings out of town. When he and his first wife split up, and he was at a low point, I loaned him my spare bike and took him out riding. He fell in love with the sport and is still riding today. We even rode across the state together one year on a bike tour. He eventually moved on to other and better paying tech jobs, ending up working in higher ed. Now in his mid-40s, he recently became a father for the first time (to twins). He shares pictures of them with me and a few other folks constantly.

I'm friends with another former co-worker from that job because of his extreme open-mindedness. Jeremy grew up in the Pentecostal Holiness Church in a small town east of where I live. When I met him, he had very traditional conservative values. I more or less harassed him for years. Those were the days before I quit drinking and my personality, to put it mildly, was a bit abrasive. When I finally sobered up and started treating people more like I wanted to be treated, we became friends, talking at great length about religion and politics and actually listening to each other instead of trying to score points. He went through an examination of his faith that had little to do with me. He came out of it still a believer, but with a much less traditional outlook on life. Jeremy has a real knack for analyzing people, and I always respected the conclusions he came up with. He started his own business when he left our shared job, and it is still doing well. We strike up conversations at random times about random things. I have no doubt that we will never lose touch.

I hear many men say that as we get older, it becomes more difficult to make new friendships. That's true, I think. Holding on to the friends we do have should really be a high priority. I can think of few things more valuable.

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Many adamantly profess to hate labels when it comes to people. They argue that as complex, individualistic beings, our true nature can't be captured with conventional language. Well, of course it can't, but unfortunately, until we develop the ability to do Vulcan mind melds, we are going to have to use our words.

Most of my adult life, I've used the convenient crutch of describing myself by my job title, conflating what I did with who I was. It was an easy and convenient (and kind of lazy) way to self identify. Of course, there are numerous ways to label ourselves. We do it by our relationships. I get to be Mr. Wonder Woman quite a bit because my wee, shy, introverted wife attracts a lot of attention by virtue of a high-profile job and her athletic prowess. When I go visit my dad, despite being a grandfather myself, I get defined as being Johnny's boy, which kind of makes me feel like Tony Soprano.

As a retired person, I suppose I'll use that label from now on and let people make assumptions based on that, since most of them will be true. They will also make assumptions based on pale skin, gender and age and most of those assumptions will not be correct. I'm not a contrarian just to be one. I am, unfortunately it seems, a minority among white men my age. Most of my peers are conservatives whose actions demonstrate a belief that people of color, gays and women have gone too far, gotten too many privileges and no longer know their place. Some of them are willing to say that out loud. Others will deny supporting those beliefs while doing absolutely nothing to stand in the way of their enforcement.

It is neither lazy nor wrong to assign characteristics to groups of people as long as you keep the exceptions in mind. I make plenty of disparaging remarks about white people because, let's face it, we have a poor track record in many areas where I am keeping score. Conservatives disparage identity politics. It makes them angry when we stubbornly point out systemic racism, systemic homophobia, systemic sexism. Now that they've won the fifth-closest election in American history and labeled it a mandate (because the truth doesn't matter)l, they are doing their level best to erase any mention of Wounded Knee, Selma, and women's suffrage from school libraries.

Suffice, to say, for me, worrying about labels is not something I engage in. I'm not bothered by anyone's good faith attempt to describe a person or group of people in polite, conventional terms. And, certainly, if you are describing a group of obnoxious assholes, feel free to label them as such. If I don't think you can defend your assertion, I'll probably let you know.

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I decided not to let the never-ending fire hose of WTF coming out of Washington ruin every moment of my life. I still read the news once a day. I still reach out to people affected by all the random craziness. There are numerous federal workers in my hometown, Most of them work on Ft. Bragg, but there are also quite a few who work for the VA, including our daughter. Her job is safe, she's told. For my own mental health, I've been trying to be mindful when doing things that bring me joy, to really savor them and to take in the experience.

Picked Out a Concert

Wonder Woman and I haven't been to a concert in recent memory. As much as I love music, the prospect of dropping a thousand bucks for a weekend's worth of tickets, lodging, parking and restaurant food took the appeal out of the experience. Tonight, on a whim, we went through a list of upcoming shows to see if there was anyone we could see without having to sell a kidney. Bob Dylan is coming to Raleigh in May, and we thought about that for a minute. We kept looking, opting out of a long list of senior citizens like Rod Stewart, Billy Idol and Rick Springfield. We finally found a home-grown band I dearly love, Old Crow Medicine Show, playing a couple of hours away at a venue with festival seating. Sold! Now I have a show to look forward to and a few albums to put on repeat until we go to the show.

Building a Home Lab

I got my hands on a couple of old computers, spent a few bucks on some extra storage and RAM, and now I have a little mission control center set up in my new home office. I installed Linux on one of the machines, the first time I've messed with that in years. I upped the speed of my home Internet connection, since I won't have any more of that sweet fiber optic action from my job any more. I'll have fun trying to figure out new uses for this old hardware.

The Regular

On Saturdays (and Sundays), I usually go to the diner at the end of my street for breakfast, They were exceptionably busy this morning, and it took the server a little longer than usual to get to me. I wasn't bothered in the least. When she came to the table, she brought me my usual drink order without even asking me what I wanted. Then, to make me feel extra special, she asked which of the two meals I alternate between was going to be my choice today. Hundreds of people are in and out of this place every day. It feels good to be remembered and treated with such warmth.

Keeping Up with the Kiddos

I've been hearing from my kids a lot lately. My son's 10-year-old Prius finally died and he was excited to send me a picture of its replacement, a nice looking Jeep that will serve him well driving around the Texas Hill Country outside of Austin. My poor daughter waited until now, she's soon to turn 40, to get poison ivy. What's worse was that she got it on her face. I had to offer up some sincere fatherly sympathy for her plight. I've also started texting some of my grandkids more regularly lately. I love to send all of them pictures I find of them "back when they were cute." Of course, they are still cute now, but teasing them is my love language.

Good Email

I have a few folks I exchange messages with regularly these days—all people I've met through blogging and Mastodon. My app review blog gets many visitors and sparks some conversations, but on good days, the tech people who have questions and comments about what I write there, open up a bit and we move on to other subjects, not that I mind chatting about tech. I like having folks who have similar backgrounds and opinions to get to know. Typically we just talk about life experiences, with only a little moaning about the fascist takeover. No one is losing sight of the country's precarious position, but we aren't resigned to living in a gloomfest either.

So, there you have it. I looked for a few good things, and I found them. I encourage you to do the same. We will survive this together.

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