Some of the best advice I ever received was an admonition against burning bridges. An old co-worker told me that when I was getting ready to leave a job at which I was unhappy. The immature side of me wanted to leave in a blaze of glory, letting everyone know what I thought of them and the place that employed them. Somehow I'd convinced myself that my opinion was important and that all those people needed my approval to be happy - none of which was actually true. You may have seen someone do exactly what I contemplated. It's always icky and transparent and never looks good.

Sometimes people start burning their bridges when they are getting ready to leave a group as a way of self-protection. They don't want the separation to hurt so they begin to withdraw and cut off relationships. That's understandable. But I try to avoid doing it as best I can. Sometimes in our lives a certain group dynamic only exists for a short while under a certain set of circumstances that can never be recaptured - political campaigns, social movements, even some educational opportunities are like that. Just because the magic of the moment is gone doesn't mean that the people involved in it are no longer valuable, not because of what they can do for you, but just because people and relationships have an intangible worth that we honor when we continue to respect them.

In the current political environment in the US, I am very much of the mind to avoid people who like and support the president-elect. Their values and mine are obviously tremendously different. At a fundamental level, I just don't understand what makes them tick, nor do I have a desire to. But, I'm not seeking out every conservative I know to let them know that Lou Plummer thinks they are a bad person. There are ways to avoid people without purposefully alienating them. This in no way means that I'll silently nod my head when someone begins to spout off about how wonderful DT is, it just means that I don't feel the need to tell anyone off preemptively.

When someone decides that ending a relationship with me on a negative note is the thing to do, it makes me wonder what they hope to gain. It doesn't happen very often, and usually when it does, it's part of a mass casualty event when a disgruntled co-worker exits, but occasionally it's personal. It reeks of immaturity and poor judgement. I do the best I can not to take it personally. Some people are just built that way, I suppose. In reality, telling someone off, getting the last word, and making a dramatic exit only kind of feel good and only in the moment. That action is usually followed by a big let down and moments of self-doubt.

It's like my Mama (and probably yours too) used to say. If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything. It’s not trite. It's true in most contexts. Exceptions can be made for calling out injustice and bigotry.

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For years, I fantasized about not having to work and all the really fine things I would do when that magical time arrived. Then I retired and was at a loss. I read a lot of books and watched a bunch of movies, but it wasn't what I'd call really fun. Instead, it felt like I was just doing things to occupy my time. Eventually, I just went back to work. That was a pretty good solution, but not a perfect one. I still think about not having to work a lot, but I think the next time I get that opportunity, it will be different.

My fantasy retirement includes plenty of time for writing. Over the past year, I have made blogging a priority by default. It's something I enjoy. I do it every day, and I can just imagine having the time to fully develop ideas, do research, and polish my posts instead of the rush jobs I'm knocking out now. I'd like to have a nice office space at home with decent speakers to play music on, a really comfortable office chair with all my tried-and-true computer essentials right there at my fingertips. I don't currently use my office space because it's not where Wonder Woman hangs out. When we are at home together, we like to be together.

I'm so conscious of my limited free time right now that I don't like to use any of it to do anything except exactly what I want to do, with a few limits. I imagine myself with more time, being more willing to get a walking routine established with just the right mix of music playlists and downloaded podcasts like I did before my mobility was limited by knee surgery. I would not be forced into early pre-dawn walks like I am now.

Since I'm a couple of years older than Wonder Woman, part of my fantasy retirement will be spent at home while she is still working. I will be able to use my time to do some of the chores, like grocery shopping, that we now do together on the weekends. I'm not going too far out on a limb by claiming that I will be Molly Maid or anything because that ain't happening. The cleaning and lawn services we've had over the past few years have been among the best investments we've ever made, and I am way too used to them to think about moving backward and taking that stuff back over myself.

A few years ago, I looked into volunteering at a few places using the skill set I have in technology. I didn't find anything that was a good fit around my work hours, but I'd be willing to look into that once more while having a much more flexible schedule. We have one of the best military history museums in the world in my hometown, but it's mostly staffed by retired guys from the 82nd Airborne and Special Forces. My half-communist ass would probably not fit in well there, although you never know. I have some retired military friends who are just as radical as I imagine myself to be.

The primary benefit of not having to go to work is that I'll no longer have to do customer relations. I'm not the biggest people person. Although I don't have any problems with getting along with folks at work 99% of the time, that remaining 1% is a giant PIA that sucks the joy out of too many days. When I never have to crawl under another desk to plug something in for another adult, I will truly be a happy man.

For the time being, however, I'm going to keep punching the clock and just enjoy knowing that, if push comes to shove, I can make my way towards the exit. I'll enjoy the 99% of the job that isn't aggravating and be extra grateful that I get to ride back and forth (and eat lunch!) with the love of my life.

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Now I've been a-lookin' for a job, but it's hard to find.
There's winners and there's losers.
And I am south of the line.
Well, I'm tired of gettin' caught out on the losin' end.
But I talked to a man last night.
Gonna do a little favor for him.
Atlantic City by Bruce Springsteen

Societies, including ours, have a habit of classifying people as winners and losers. In World War Two, Japanese soldiers committed mass suicide in battle after battle rather than surrendering or being beaten. I am reminded of a scene from the Will Ferrell comedy, Talladega Nights, after Ricky Bobby's sons brag of throwing their grandfather's war medals over a bridge and disrespecting a teacher, their dad exclaims "My boys are winners and winners get to do whatever they want." It's obvious that a lot of people share that sentiment.

Athletic contests by design have a winner and a loser at the end of the competition, but who is going to call Aaron Judge of the NY Yankees, a man whose salary is twice that of the entire Detroit Tigers, a loser? Are the athletes who go to the Olympic games and don't win a medal losers? Maybe they use that definition on their own minds as motivation, I don't know. I've only been around a couple of Olympians and I didn't ask them. I just know that from my own athletic career, I felt like a winner every time I gave the competition everything I had. What more could I do?

I've never been as opposed to anything in my life as I was against the Us war with Iraq. I opposed it with everything I had. When Obama, who unlike other prominent Democrats, had never supported the war, was elected, I felt like the antiwar movement had won. So did a lot of other folks. Most coalitions closed up shop as we waited for the troops to come home. Only it took years for the last soldier to leave Iraq (2011). When Obama left office in 2017, there were still American soldiers in Afghanistan for reasons no one could really explain.

There are people who turn just about everything into a competition to satisfy some need they have to be better than other people. I've known too many dentists and ad execs who, in their minds, turn into Tour de France riders on a Saturday morning bicycle ride at the club ride. Putting other people in danger and disrupting the flow of the entire undertaking is entirely acceptable in their minds if they can beat a bunch of school teachers and retirees to the next stop sign. Even on something as neutral as the Appalachian Trail, there were those people who bragged at camp sites about how many miles they'd covered and how fast they'd hiked. No one cared.

It's funny how these competitive types never try to win the competition on the job to close the most tickets or help the most customers. I wonder why.

After the recent election, a lot of people feel like they are on the winning side, but I have news for them. Unless they are in the 1%, they are going to come out of the next four years on the losing end. The educational system is going to suffer, and that hurts everyone. Unmitigated climate change will accelerate, and that hurts everyone. Pollution will increase. Government services will be deprecated. We will all live in a less functional country. All of that Trump-style winning is going to help one fat guy with a bad combover and too much makeup.

Winners are happy people. Winners are those amongst us who live in peace. They don't have the biggest houses or the nicest cars. What they have is appreciation for what they've got and an absence of longing for what they don't. They enjoy what they enjoy without a need to beat someone else. I like winners like that.

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This might be rough for some. Not everyone had a happy childhood. Mine certainly had its rough spots, but for the most part, we had a lot of opportunities for pure joy too. So, in no particular order, here is a hit parade from the 70s.

Music - My mom and stepfather had a record player that stayed busy. I grew up listening to music that I still play today. We had all the Beatles albums. James Taylor got a lot of airtime. Especially for us kids, we got to listen to Pete Seeger sing Little Boxes and Abi-Yoyo. I even remember my stepfather playing a particular Arlo Guthrie record with Alice's Restaurant. My own dad was partial to Neil Diamond, so I get feelings for him whenever I hear one of the familiar songs.

Food - My mom didn't always cook breakfast, but more often than not, we didn't have to resort to cereal. Being in the South meant that bacon, eggs, and grits were a staple, although she had an actual waffle iron, so we got that sometimes. Pancakes and oatmeal were also on offer. When we did get cereal, there was always a controversy over whose turn it was to get the prize in the bottom of the box. I wasn't really fond of the "eat everything on your plate" rule that my stepfather imposed because Mom insisted on regularly serving English peas, which I despise to this day. I did learn how to enjoy asparagus though.

Travel - We weren't that well off, but we managed to have plenty of opportunities to visit parks and beaches when we happened to be living in the eastern part of the state. We moved a lot. When I grew up, I took my kids to some of the same places I'd been able to go to as a kid. One problem with travel was the size of the cars my parents had. Imagine five people in a Ford Pinto on a late-night trip up Interstate 95 from central NC to Washington, DC. That one was partially a business trip. My stepfather, a journalist, got to attend a press conference with other NC reporters to grill President Ford.

Holidays - Despite the lack of funds, we were never disappointed at Christmas. We got all the regular stuff kids get: bikes that lasted for years, baseball gloves, and always books about whatever we happened to be interested in at the time. We usually traveled to see family too. To my mother's everlasting credit, even though she and my dad got divorced around the time I started school, she has stayed in contact with his family to this very day. My dad lived out of state, but we still got to see our grandparents, our aunt, and our uncles.

Freedom - In the time before cell phones and excessive protectiveness, we had the license to roam. I was a hustler as a kid, always on the lookout to make a few bucks, and I rode my bike far and wide looking for soda bottles to sell back to the store. I walked the roads looking for aluminum cans. My mom willingly took me to the salvage yard to cash those in. We always had permission to go to the library when we lived someplace where it was close enough to get to. Some summers I practically lived there. Lots of times we lived in apartments with pools, and when we didn’t, we joined a co-op pool, which I didn't realize until I was an adult was whites only. I was born the year the civil rights act was signed, but there were still vestiges of segregation around if you looked.

TV and Movies - We had the same 19-inch TV my entire childhood. In the afternoons, we'd watch black and white re-runs of The Beverly Hillbillies, The Andy Griffith Show, and Gomer Pyle. Some of our favorite nighttime shows were Happy Days and * Laverne and Shirley.* One little town we lived in had a main street movie theater with one-dollar tickets. We could just about see the place from our house, and we got to go there whenever anything appropriate was playing. We still make fun of my sister for leaving Pippi Longstocking early because she got scared.

What was best about all of that was that it took place in an environment of my mother's love and commitment to give us the best childhood she could. She 100% succeeded, and I am so very grateful to this day.

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For a good part of my life, I tried to be religious and failed miserably. During my formative years, church was a social connection as well as a place for religious instruction. During elementary school, my Mom was married to a non-believer, so she didn't attend church, but my siblings and I went with a neighbor to a Southern Baptist church on the outskirts near the prison. My brother and I were active in the boys’ youth group, called RAs for Royal Adventurers. In the summer, we went to VBS (Vacation Bible School).

In high school, I lived with my aunt and uncle. They went to a Presbyterian Church, one of many in the area, reflecting the Scottish heritage in the part of North Carolina where we lived. One of my favorite parts of each week was the Sunday evening Youth Fellowship meetings. It was the one place where kids from the different high schools in the area hung out together. We had a church league softball team that was a lot of fun. Our yearly beach trip was something I looked forward to immensely. I got a lot of love there in spite of getting caught smoking weed by the youth minister. I wasn't a well-behaved kid, but I was still welcome.

As an adult, I have attended Baptist, Presbyterian, and Seventh-day Adventist churches. I've been baptized at least twice. I may have also been baptized as a baby since during the brief time my parents were married to each other, they attended the Methodist church, which practices infant baptism. All three of my children attended private, church-affiliated schools for part of their K-12 lives.

Both my sister and my father are ordained ministers in the United Methodist Church. It was a second career for both of them. In retirement, Dad no longer worships at a Methodist church because it has grown too liberal for him. My mother has done medical missionary work in Rwanda. She is a member of an Anglican church that is affiliated with the Rwandan version of that denomination. She was a member of an Episcopalian church for a long time, but when her congregation split after the ordination of Gene Robinson, an openly gay bishop, she went with her husband and the other conservatives to form a new congregation. My sister has many of the same political beliefs that I hold, and she is one of the few people I feel comfortable talking to when it comes to issues of faith.

Despite all that churching, I ended up a non-believer. I tried as hard as I knew how to find a connection with a supernatural God, but I never felt anything, not ever. As a recovering alcoholic from the 12-Step tradition, which relies heavily on the concept of a "higher power," I had to do considerable mental gymnastics to finally get sober. I finally resolved to use my AA group as a power greater than myself. Collectively, that is 100% true, and it was only after I stopped fighting against what I felt was an inappropriate religious influence that I was able to stop drinking for good, or at least for the last 16 years.

Aside from the lack of an emotional connection with religion, my other reasons for the position I hold are much the same as many other non-believers. I can't reconcile things like the Holocaust and childhood leukemia with a loving and caring God. The historical reality of how the Bible became canon is more than a little sus to me as well. I really like quite a few parts of it anyway, especially The Sermon on the Mount, which is as good an outlook on a righteous life as I have seen anywhere. I am also disgusted to the very core of who I am as a person with right-wing-influenced Christianity. People who talk Jesus out of one side of their mouth and cut nutrition programs for the poor out of the other side are contemptible, and I want as little to do with them as possible. When I think of the average white conservative Christian, I think of the ways they advocate for things like discrimination against LGBT people, their support for the death penalty, and their attempts to force their beliefs into the political fabric of a country that was founded on religious freedom. I like Christians like Jimmy Carter and Martin Luther King, Jr. I do not like Christians like James Dobson and Tony Perkins. I think they are evil people.

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