I GOT NOTHING

I am a grateful man.  That was not always the case.  These days, I am grateful for what I have, and for that I am grateful.  I usually think of the things I am grateful for each day, as I am lying in my bed at night, thank God for them and then drift off to sleep.  These days I sleep like a baby.  A three hundred pound snoring baby, but a baby nonetheless.  That was not always the case either.  Last night, though, my gratitude reached another level.

     Last night I could not fall asleep.  For some reason I started to think about the things that I don’t have.  Things that I had once and no longer have.  Thing I have never had.  Things I should have had but never got.  There were a lot of things on that list.  I tried to think of them all and every time I thought I had finished the list, something else would pop into my head.

     Once, I had a job I hated.  I don’t have that job any more.  I used to drink too much.  I don’t drink any more.  I used to be consumed with a fear of the future, and the unknown. I am not afraid of many things these days.  I used to worry.  These days I prepare instead.  Guilt, shame, envy, muscle tone- all gone.  Lost for now.  I could have them all back, I suppose, if they didn’t weigh me down so much.  I am too old to carry that weight these days.

     Then there were the things that I should have had but never got.  Things like the broken back that should have left me crippled. I am not crippled.  The night I should have frozen to death, but didn’t.  The times, that if I had gotten what I;d deserved, I would have likely spent a lot of time behind bars.  Today, I am free.  And I am free because I did not get what I deserved.

     Then there are the things I have never had.  I have never had cancer or any terminal disease.  I have never lived in fear of being diagnosed with a terminal disease either.  I have never worried about getting fat and out of shape and that explains exactly why I am fat and out of shape.  I have never had everything that I wanted.  I wanted a rhinoceros once.  I wanted a machine gun too. I never got them.  I wanted to die once too.  I didn’t get that either.

     So, this year, I am not only grateful for what I have, I am even more grateful for what I don’t have.  Because what I don’t have has given me more than I ever thought I would have. 

     That is all.

THE UNUSUAL

     Summer is always an unusual time of year at our house.  We live on a beautiful river.  There are usually a lot of fun things to do and a lot of kids around, the perfect scenario for unusual things to happen. 

     This year, though, nothing unusual happened by the time our youngest daughter, Sugar, went to visit her older sister, Sissy, in Miami for a month.  That left just Trixie and me. Trixie is not a fan of the unusual.  It was not looking good for unusual, which, at our house, is unusual.

     I had gotten up at the break of dawn, or as Trixie likes to call it, 9 am. I walked into the bathroom to get a cup of coffee.  There was no coffee in the bathroom so I checked the kitchen.  I poured a cup of coffee and started drinking it just like I usually do.  I burned my lip, just like every other morning.  Then I walked over to look at the river.  There was a great blue heron.  We see them all the time.  But this one was unusual.  This blue heron had an injured wing.  His left wing was just hanging.  If the bird were human, its wing would be hanging at the elbow.  He did not look like he was in any pain.  He just stood there, looking out at the river.  I turned to Trixie and said, “Guess what’s standing by the river?”

     “An injured blue heron,” she answered.  Trixie usually has an answer for everything.  As I opened the door, the heron started to walk away.  So I came back inside.  “Poor thing is going to die.”

     “We should do something,” Trixie said.  So I grabbed my phone and announced that I was calling The Department of Game and Fisheries.  “You are doing what I said you should do?  That is unusual,” Trixie replied.

     The phone rang three times and when someone answered, I explained to them about the blue heron.  They gave me the number for Animal Rescue.  Animal Rescue gave me the number for a Bird Rescue.  They told me to capture the bird, bring it to them, and that they would euthanize the bird.  I could euthanize the bird myself.  I wasn’t trying to kill the bird, I was trying to help it.  That was the last straw for me.  

     I hung up.  I grabbed a fishing rod and walked out the door.  I put a fat juicy worm on the hook and caught a perch on my first cast.  I took the perch off the hook at threw it at the heron.  He backed away at first.  The flopping fish put the heron’s fears to rest quickly enough, though, and he emerged to devour the perch.  Then I caught more.  He ate each one.  I went back into the house and got the camera.  I took a couple of pictures and sat down to eat a pizza and think.  I do my best thinking eating pizza and as a result I am brilliant.  You would think so, anyway.  

     I was on Facebook when a familiar name popped up on my timeline, someone I knew from high school.  She was working at an animal preserve, not very far away.  So I sent her a note and the pictures asking for help.  She replied that if I could catch the bird, she would look it over to see if it could be saved.  I asked if she had any idea how to catch the bird.  She told me that a great blue heron is one of the most difficult birds to catch.  She went on to say that if I could even get close, the bird would try to poke my eyes out with its beak and that their legs are very fragile and break easily, so tackling the bird was out of the question.  She wished me luck.  I am pretty sure she knew I would never be able to catch that bird.  

     Trixie started shaking her head.  She asked me what my plan was.  I told her I was going to talk to the bird.  

     “Like Doctor Doolittle?” she asked.  

     “Exactly. Only I am not a doctor. I am a Mister.  Call me Mister Doolittle. Can you get me a box?  I will be right back,” I said as I walked out the door.

     So I went outside with an old white sheet, one worm, and one fishing rod.  I caught three perch and used them to try to draw the heron in close.  I figured I would use my cat-like reflexes to grab it by the beak as it was eating and then scoop it up, wrap it in a sheet and put it in a box and take it to my friend.  My plans seldom work.  The bird would not let me near it.  So I talked to the bird.  Just me and the bird.  Then it just plopped down on the ground.  And it looked right into my eyes. A look of defeat and desperation and complete surrender.  I knew that look.  I threw the sheet over him, grabbed his beak in one hand, gently scooped his legs up under him, walked back to the house, and went inside.  Just like I planned.

     “I need a box,” I said. 

     “A box?  For what?” Trixie answered.

     “The bird.”

     “What bird?”

     “This bird!” I said, as I showed her the bird wrapped in the sheet.  Trixie screamed like a wife whose husband just brought a three foot live bird into the living room.  

     “I cannot believe you brought a three foot live bird into the living room.  What are we going to do with it?” she asked.

     “We are going to put it in the box and take it to get fixed.  Just like we planned.  Where’s the box?”

     “I didn’t get the box!” she yelled.

     “Why not?”

     “Because there was no chance that you were going to catch that bird you idiot!”

     “Well, the idiot caught the bird and now the idiot needs a box.”

Trixie stood there for a second and glared at me.  It had no effect.  When you get glared at as often as I get glared at, you become immune to glaring.  She said, “Ok, I’ll get a box. Don’t let that thing loose in here.”

     “Grab your car keys too.” I said.

     “For what?”

     “Because we need to take your car to take the bird to get fixed.”

     “My car?  Why my car?” she said as she was looking all over the house for a three foot tall box.

     “In case the bird gets loose,” I said as she returned with a box.

     “That bird won’t get loose in my car because we are not putting the bird in my car.  We are taking your truck.  Where are your keys?

     “Sugar has them.”

     “Why does she have them?”

     “I don’t know.  We could ask her though I suppose.”

     “We can’t ask Sugar, you idiot, she is at school.”

      “Exactly why we have to take your car.”

Checkmate.  We put the bird in the box and she grabbed her keys.

     During the drive, that bird did not make a sound or move a muscle.  We were worried that it may have died.  I called my friend to let her know that we were on our way.  We were greeted at the front gate and then rushed to the bird hospital.  

     “How did you catch the bird?” they asked.  Trixie answered for me, “He talked to it.”

     “You talk to animals?” the doctor asked. 

     “They are usually the only ones that will listen to me,” I answered.  

     “You live in a house full of women don’t you?” asked the doctor. 

     “Yep,” I said.  

     He turned around, took off the rubber glove on his right hand, and shook my hand. 

“Me too,” he said.

     They examined the bird and said it was in very bad shape.  Its wing had been broken for a long time.  It was dehydrated and very thin.  I knew what they were saying.  Birds in this shape usually die.  Well, we did the best we could, I thought.  And then it happened, the most unusual thing in a most unusual day.  My friend said the curator for a marsh exhibit may be interested in the injured heron and gave him a call.  The curator said if the bird could be saved, he would put it in the exhibit.  So, the bird docs set about saving the bird. The bird will never fly again, and while it is unusual for a bird that cannot fly to survive, in this case it was the unusual events that gave it life.

     The most valuable things in life are the most unusual.  Diamonds.  Gold.  True Love. The most valuable actions in life are the most unusual too.  It is unusual to do all you should.  It is unusual to do all you could.  But usually, if you just do the right thing, you will be right.  The bird is doing well.  It seems that I can talk to animals.  My own kids?  Not so much.

 That is all.

GERONIMO!

I was in my truck, driving home from work last week.  This drive was normally a drive that was fraught with frustration.  In order to overcome that, I had a rule that I would use every day.  When I passed Sinclair Lane I would stop thinking about work.  That was the point where I would have to force myself, usually, to abandon thinking about my job until the next morning; or until someone called me from work. 

That day though, I noticed that Sinclair Lane was still a few miles away and my mind was completely free of frustration.  In fact, my mind was completely free from anything but one thought.  How was I going to tell Trixie that I had just been laid off?  She would ask why.  That would be her first question. Should I tell her that it was, in part, my suggestion to the owner of the company?  That was probably not a good idea.  The real reasoning behind the move was that in this economy, business has just dropped off to the point that they could not afford me any longer.  That was the truth.  The truth usually works for me these days.  When I don’t tell the truth I usually end up in trouble. I would tell Trixie the truth.

The truth hurts sometimes.  That is when people like me have a hard time telling the truth.  It is hard to tell the truth when you know it might hurt someone you care about. Trixie’s next question would be, “What are we going to do now?”  I already knew the answer to that question.  I was sure it would be hard to sell to Trixie though.  She is a realist.  I am an idealist.  Opposites attract I am told.  We are very attracted to each other, Trixie and I. So, as I was driving home, to tell Trixie the truth, my mind played out the whole conversation in my head. 

“What are we going to do now?” Trixie would say to me.

“I have a plan.” I would reply.

“You have a plan?”

“Yep.”

“Tell me about your plan to pay the mortgage, both car payments, Sugar’s tuition which is due next week by the way, gas and electric, the credit card bills, and feed everyone.  Tell me about this plan.”

“That is all.”

“What?” Trixie asked looking at me as if I was completely insane.

“That is all.  That is the plan.  That is all.” I said.

“That is all. is a blog Tony.  That is all. is a page on Facebook.  That is all. is not a plan.  That is all!”

I would go on to explain to her the plans that I have for That is all.  To use the blog as a springboard to do a lot of things.  Things that will help people who are struggling right now.  So many people have lost their jobs in the economy.  So many people are struggling.  People need good news.  That is all would only convey good news.  And help businesses do the same thing.  And that in doing that, they could help their businesses grow.  Then I would see her eyes looking up at the ceiling and I would stop talking.  I would dust off and update my resume and apply for a job that I was capable of doing.  I would get the job and do an amazing job and I would be miserable.  I knew the drill.  I had done it many times.

I pulled into the driveway, grabbed my briefcase and walked to the mailbox.  A coupon for a pizza, the gas and electric bill, two credit card bills and the tuition bill.  And to add insult to injury a brochure for a college addressed to our daughter, Sugar. The freedom from frustration that I had felt just a few minutes earlier was fading fast. I had dealt with situations like this before.  Usually I dealt with them myself and I dealt with them badly.  I did something different this time though as I was trudging down the sidewalk to the front door.  I said a prayer.  It was a prayer of my own that day, but it was also the same prayer that has been said by millions of people for thousands of years. I said, “God, I need your help right about now.”

Trixie was already home from work and in the kitchen making spaghetti when I walked in the door.

“How was your day?” She asked me. 

“It was a good day right up until the point that I got laid off.” I answered.  She looked up at me and said,

“What are we going to do now?” 

Here we go, I thought.  When you have been married for as long as we have, you know each other so well sometimes you don’t have to use words to speak. This conversation was going to go exactly the way it did in my head on the way home.

“I have a plan.” I said.

“You have a plan?”

“Yep.” I said.

“Tell me about this plan.”  She said.  And then the most amazing thing happened. I told her about the plan and she listened.  She even started nodding her head a little.  She was listening so closely that she did not notice that the water for the pasta was boiling over. I finished telling her about the plan as she turned the burner on the stove down a bit.

“What do you think?” I asked her.

I knew what she was going to say, so I was stunned when she said, “Well, I don’t know if it will work or not, but I think we should give it a try for at least a month or so.  Let’s see if it seems to be working.  If it does we can stick with it, if it doesn’t we will have to do something else.”

“OK” I said.  That was all I could muster. I was speechless.  That seldom happens with me.

“Now, put the garlic bread in the oven would you please?” I put the garlic bread in the oven, and then walked into the living room to sit down.  I could not believe what just happened. 

“Thanks God.”  I said to myself. 

Trixie came in with a spoonful of marinara for me to test and said, “We will make it work.  We always do. In the past, in situations like this, whether it was our fault or your fault or nobody’s fault we have always chosen circumstance over opportunity.  Let’s give opportunity a shot for a change.  Now get your feet off the table.”

The next day we started our business.  It is called That is all.  By the end of the day we had three clients.  By the end of the week, we had seven new clients and the opportunity to be involved in a very large project.  They say if you love your job you will never work a day in your live.  I hope so, because I love this job. I love my wife too. That is all.

AFTERWORD

That is all. is a blog. That is all. now has a new dimension. 

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