Ch. 70 Let's Address the Furry Baby in the Room

If one is interested or curious at all to find out what first time parenthood is like, just go to the r/NewParents subreddit. There you will find the details that most people either are too embarrassed to share, or that you really can’t gracefully process in a face-to-face scenario.  

How should you react if someone confides in you that maybe they feel parenthood was a mistake for them? Or that they haven’t slept for more than 2 hours at a time for the past month? Some things are better left online because all you can really do in person is go “Oh dang, wow, that sounds rough.” 

While that’s the wise way to react and hopefully end this type of conversation, if you were like me you’d try to further the it with the limited experiences you had to draw from: having a cat. “Yeah, tell me about it, last night at 3am my cat Moses wouldn’t shut up and it totally woke us up. Took me almost an hour to get back to sleep, so I get it.” 

I can tell you’re feeling secondhand cringe for me, but as it turns out, new parents love this! Finally, they can commiserate with their friends about what they’re going through because lo and behold, the friend that didn’t go through pregnancy or childbirth actually have the same challenges they do – just with cats. 

That’s a fur baby in a crib right there.

Cats and babies are so similar that this is a very tidy, surprisingly nimble little leap to make. 

Napping: both babies and cats nap throughout the day, the lucky devils. You’re trying to do laundry and perhaps clock in some work hours but they insist on racking out in your lap so you’re stuck watching Southern Charm with your significant other. They both nap trap their caretakers with reckless abandon.  

Feeding schedules: cats love to cluster feed! It's like hello just stick to a schedule I don’t want to hear you eating at random times of the day from your dry food bowl, jeez. Same for babies but like, easier because you don’t have to pay for breastmilk at the grocery store am I right fellas? 

Managing poopies: there’s nothing more akin to servitude than cleaning up the excrement of your little one. The only difference (and I mean the ONLY difference) is that cats lick their butts to clean up afterward and babies require wipes. I guess in this category, you could chalk cats up as the easier of the two...I guess. 

This is an often-overlooked Venn diagram that new parents really ought to enjoy more. All you crave in the first six weeks of parenthood is someone else going through it too. You want to bounce ideas, experiences and shames with someone who gets it. Well look no further than your friend with a cat, because trust me, they’ve had the cat a lot longer than you’ve been a parent and they really get it. 

As a new parent to a FuR BAbY and a Junior in college, I was really quite a responsible parent to Moses. So were my seven roommates. So I really know parenthood.

It’s only fair to address dogs. Dogs are not actually a good fit for this crossover because their love is cheap and unconditional, not to mention you don’t have to deal with their poop, if you did there’d be a lot less around Denver’s high-rise apartments. 

PS We’re six weeks in and couldn’t be happier. Reese is objectively the best baby in the universe and has us madly in love. Especially the poops, she makes her Dad proud filling them diapers! 

PPS This isn’t anti-dog, we’ll get a dog when we get a dog but for now, I have to pull from experience.

SSSPSPSSPSSS...that was for your cat, from me. 

Another nap trap. Note the general look of bright eyes and bushy tail from yours truly. Four weeks in and sleep was a slippery thing to catch.

Ch. 69 Pre-Dad

Written 12/6/23

I love being a pre-Dad. Nobody told me about the insane excess social currency that came with expecting. 

It’s like the get-out-of-jail free card I never knew existed. I can use this upcoming life event in almost any scenario and instantly garner sympathy and joy from strangers to close loved ones. If a client call isn’t going in the right direction, I can drop in that they may not see me for a few weeks because we’re having our first baby soon, watching a tough customer melt into a genuine ally instantaneously is dangerously thrilling. 

Is this why people have so many kids? You can get away with just about anything if you disclose that yep, we’ve got a baby on the way! Did I just park in the wrong spot? Oh sorry, my wife’s super pregnant and my mind was elsewhere. You don’t have any more of that type of bread? Dang, my super-duper pregnant wife was really depending on this. Oh, you have just one more behind the counter suddenly? Fantastic. 

Social currency aside, I prefer the anticipation of this life event to that of our wedding celebration. This one we have all the work on the back end rather than up front. Weddings are all stress and spending until one very full, very quick event. Yes, there’s plenty to be stressed about when you’re growing a baby, but if you’re lucky enough to avoid major complications, I’m in the camp that this will pale in comparison to actual parenthood problems. 

Mind you, this is coming from a human male, not a seahorse male, so I can’t be credited for doing any of the heavy lifting here. Day after day Lauren’s gate becomes more humpty dumpty while I find all the extra food and errands are making me somehow...stronger? So really this “free” social currency comes at a cost that Lauren must pay. A word of advice to any pre-Dads to be, in the 9 months it takes to get to term, remember: be more agreeable than usual, in fact, actively avoid disagreements because 99% of the time you are wrong, and all this social goodwill is being paid for on the back, hips, and swollen feet of your lovely wife. So pay it forward and put her socks on with a smile. 

Baby brain…ya I went overboard with the Mardi Gras babies at work.

In a lot of ways I need to write this as a telegram for my future self. 

Hey, you with the bags under your eyes and oddly shaped dad bod: thanks for the good times, your past self really did enjoy this feeling. 

In conclusion, I genuinely can’t wait to meet our daughter. It’s brought us to tears so many times at how curious, how excited and how over the moon we are to discover what life we’re going to bring into this world.  

If you found this piece too rambling or self indulgent – my bad, I’m about to have my first kid and my pregnant wife totally made me write this. 

Lauren, 2.5 weeks from giving birth crushed a 5k turkey trot. GOAT

People prepare in different ways when expecting. We built the bassinets and then had to cat-proof them so Moses wouldn’t get fur everywhere. And there was some left over for entertainment, Harlow approved.

Ch. 68 Recycool

In 2021 I changed industries from big tech, to recycling. That shouldn’t surprise you because it matches my passion for sustainability. In my time at this job, I’ve been able to peak behind the curtain of the recycling industry and have made three key insights for you to use: Compost, Avoid Small Plastics, and Keep It Loose.

This is written to help you gain confidence as a consumer who recycles. Articles tend to surface from time to time referencing recycling as a “myth” and they paint a picture of a completely useless system. I work in such a system every day and while it isn’t perfect*, it’s far from useless. I’d like to share what I’ve learned for your benefit. The point of this is not to look down on anyone for their buying habits because the truth is, buying some things will just make your life easier and occasionally that means single use items. What this post will do is hopefully guide your buying and recycling decisions going forward.

Rule #1: Compost 

It’s really easy, just do it

If you don’t already employ a green bin or have some smelly hot pile in the backyard, yesterday is the time to start. Even if you’re in an apartment there are plenty of small local outfits that will collect weekly for you. In Denver it’s becoming a standard service but before that, I paid an extra $8 per month for a giant green compost bin that gets emptied weekly.

A relative recently asked me, “Mac, your’e so smart and handsome, tell me, what’s the point of throwing food waste in the compost? If I throw it in the trash, it won’t make a difference, will it?” I don’t know what the first line had to do with this but it’s a fair question. The point is anything you throw in the trash will increase its carbon footprint because it’s headed to the hot stinky landfill that’s a literal hotbed for greenhouse gas production. Food waste thrown in the compost will be broken down (sure it’s hot) but in a way that regenerates our food supply by creating fresh soil for farmers and modest gardeners like yourself. It’s so useful that many cities and states are moving toward food scrap mandates.

One little known fact is that most compost collectors accept fiber, AKA paper products. If your fiber product is clean (not soiled, oily, etc) then it should be recycled, but things like used pizza boxes, paper napkins, coffee filters etc. can be composted. It’s amazing how little trash we make since adding composting to our lives.

A whole wide world opens up once you add composting to your life, feels like this.

Rule #2: Avoid small plastics 

It’ll fall through the cracks

The entire waste industry speaks in terms of mass. Bales of material are weighed and sold by the pound or ton. This incentivizes those who are sorting your recycling to grab the big fish before the small. The sorting of recycling is the entire issue with the industry, we combine all types into one big bin and it’s difficult to sort it while maintaining the proper throughput – therefore it pains me to say: not everything you recycle is actually recycled.

Standard reactions to hearing that not everything you put in the bin will get recycled. Acceptable reaction.

It's easy to feel hopeless or shocked when faced with that reality, but aside from producers needing to do better, we can too. Just avoid single use plastic wherever you can, and in those totally reasonable scenarios when you need to purchase something in plastic (which literally happens every day, don’t beat yourself up), just avoid the small stuff because odds are, that won’t get sorted like the big stuff.

And duh, wash it off if there’s food residue on it, if you care a little for the poor sorter down the line who gets your recyclables, you’ll clean it off a bit. It can be up to a week before they get their hands on it and by then, the BBQ sauce or ranch has really had time to fester, and it stinks and is gross. Don’t be gross. If people only recycled clean materials, these recovery facilities wouldn’t stink but let me tell you firsthand, they do. Aside from the stench argument, soiled (or food ridden) materials are deprioritized and considered lower grade, so the economic incentive gets lowered with soiled recyclables.

Rule #3: Keep it loose 

Plastic Bags are the devil

Keep your recyclables loose, but your playing cards well-contained.

This may not be news to you, but some folks put their recycling in plastic garbage bags and then take the bag to the bin once it’s full. That defeats the purpose and is likely to cause damage to the facility attempting to sort it. A lot of the machinery used in these facilities are very supsceptible to failing when plastic bags get into the system. Think of gum in a grandfather clock, it wraps around stuff and eventually they stop turning.

So keep it loose, I like to just fill a paper bag and empty the contents into my bin or fill a reusable grocery bag. A hard plastic bin works too, if you’re rinsing your recyclables then it shouldn’t get too mucky in there.

If you haven’t realized already, plastic bags are NOT recyclable. Rule of thumb: if it’s flimsy, put it in the trash, if it retains shape then it can be recycled. So avoid those bags at all costs. Sometimes we end up with them in our house, they get the job they deserve, cat poop collection.

That’s it. I hope you learned something and if not, gold star, the recyclers in your area love you and are making a profit from your great work!

If you want to learn more about what you can do, hit me up or check out your local recycling website. Also, if you’re curious, the new gig I have is at AMP Robotics, it’s by far the most fulfilling job I’ve ever had.

*In my work at AMP, our mission is to create a world without waste by introducing new technology that helps the sortation process. It’s cool!

Ch. 67 The One Where Mac Gets Covid

12/13/21

The post below was written a while back, I didn’t want to post it until I had truly shaken my COVID-19 symptoms which is why it’s taken this long. All in all, it reads pretty dramatic but truth be told, that’s exactly how it felt so I’m not going to sugar coat or use a jovial tone to make it fun to read.

The purpose of this is to encourage any who have yet to 1) get vaccinated and 2) get boosted.

4/27/21

I woke up freezing in my own bed. This was the first shift of three that ultimately sent me in a pretty dismal spiral to the lowest low I’ve ever experienced. My bed has always represented sacred space. Under the covers is the safest you can be, shielded from the outside world, and suddenly that wasn’t true anymore.

I ended up losing consciousness while still laying down and took a 3:30am drive, on Wednesday March 31st, to the ER, I would lose consciousness two more times before reaching the ER bed.

There I soaked up fluids like a sponge while they ran tests showing my vitals were good pending COVID-19 results. After being discharged and napping a bit they called and informed us I was COVID-19 positive. That was the second shift: it was no longer a random head cold I had been fighting, it was the internationally feared virus where anything could happen.

I had initially felt achy on the previous Saturday, thinking I was just sore from exercising, but I got a rapid test just in case. March Madness was in full swing and I didn’t want my sickness to get in the way of my wife and roommate seeing the games with friends. The test came back negative so I felt relieved and decided to stay home until I felt better, after all, I had just scheduled my first shot as vaccinations for those 16 and older would become available the following Friday.

So this is how I fumbled at the one yard line. With the end goal in sight, scheduled on the calendar, I got unlucky. Based on my experience, I consider myself fairly lucky in the grand scheme, I’m alive after all, but here’s a breakdown of the symptoms and what if felt like to experience the big bad wolf:

• Day 1 & 2 - achy body, headache

• Day 3 - sore throat, still achy, still headache

• Day 4 - Inability to focus, general fatigue, severe head congestion

• Day 5 - Extreme Chills, intensification of all symptoms, no temperature but all fever feelings on high (trip to ER #1), night sweats, in bed all day, no appetite, difficulty with screens

• Day 6 - reversal of Day 5’s intensity, thought I’d been through the worst of it, even played an April Fool’s prank. That evening brought constant diarrhea. Complete loss of smell (no complaints there)

• Day 7 - Inability to eat without bowel movements, inability to hold liquids, trip to ER #2 to get fluids and Imodium. Return of day 5’s effects to a slightly lesser degree.

• Day 8 thru 11 - Symptoms continue with modest improvements, slowly worked my way out of bed a few times per day to walk slowly around the backyard with a mask on - felt like I lived at an old folks home, drinking Ensures to keep my calories up as appetite was still nonexistent. Gatorade was a constant, screens were not an option, I survived on Podcasts, Audiobooks, Tylenol, and DoorDash.

• Days 12 thru 14 - Appetite slowly returned, headaches persisted especially in the evening to cap the day. Smell almost completely returned, though not for my own bodily functions.

• Day 15 - Complete return of achy body, severe headache, spent the day in bed wondering what life is.

• Days 16 to 24 (when I originally wrote this post) - Slow rebuild from Day 15s backslide of symptoms, walking twice daily in varying amounts. Smell 100% back. Wearing blue light glasses religiously. On days where I put in more effort, the following day pays the price. Still feel achy from time to time and headache is subtle but present, more so in the evening.

• Months 2 thru 7 - An anxiety-filled tightrope of returning to normalcy while trying not to trigger a resurgence of symptoms. This was later diagnosed as my variety of long covid, in which you are subject to the good day/bad day rhythm: if you feel like today is a good day, you push, enjoy, act carefree falsely thinking the worst is behind you. The next day you’re on your ass with fatigue, headache, mental fog, and occasionally achy.

• Month 8 onward - Finally close to normal, after seeing a few specialists including a nutritionist and balancing out my food variety to a religious degree, I feel I can do what I used to do before coming down with COVID-19.

This was the majority of April, however at first I couldn’t even handle a small cat touching me, body aches suck.

Throughout the entire journey Lauren was an absolute saint, bringing nourishment and care at all times, even delicately suggesting when I should take a shower (when my sense of smell had failed me). Given I am (or was) a healthy 31 year old when this happened, I shudder to think about the effects this virus has on those with preexisting conditions or old age. Though I’m told stories of geezers who get no more than a sore throat and go about their lives. My limited knowledge tells my the reaction is completely random, so ask yourself: do ya feel lucky?

The final shift I felt from this was the abject helplessness our doctors have in treating this. All they can really do is check to see if your major functions are failing and tell you to rest and hydrate. Hospitals are filling ups again, and it’s with unvaccinated patients. So get your booster, I just did.

My aforementioned roommate ended up getting COVID-19 as well, but Lauren never got it because she works in healthcare and was…wait for it…VACCINATED.

PS - Shoutout to my friends and neighbors in Denver who were insanely generous with their time, support, and Gatorade in the very intense moments of this, you know who you are!

Ch. 66 Harlito Bandito as told by Uncle Doodoo

Nieces are the best couch dwellers

The only picture with Harlow in focus, you’ll see.

We recently had the pleasure of hosting my sister, bother-in-law and their nearly two-year-old daughter at our house. The weather shifted from comfortable to frigid and the result was some unexpected hunkering down in the living room with blankets and a solid stream of cartoons.

Initially, Moses (our cat) was the best thing that could fall into your lap on a couch session. Boy was I wrong. My Niece, Harlow bandito burrito, is far superior and warms not only the lap, but the soul. When in my lap, I am paralyzed by the sheer concept of a miniature version of my sister so young in her life, so small but with a future that’s going to amaze us all. All that potential entranced by a cartoon. It’s a beautiful thing.

Her nickname stems from a family vacation to Mexico in which her name paired nicely with other Spanish words that don’t make grammatical sense with her gender. To be fair a Harlito burrito is a cozy concept, and she’s a complete and total bandit now that she’s learned to run full speed from room to room. Also, I heard bandits love to throw almost everything you hand them, just to watch them fall.

She’s so fast I can never quite get a shot of her in focus. Certified bandit.

Nieces don’t just make great couch buddies, they also serve as the best alarm clocks. I didn’t tap snooze once during their trip, the simple sound of her voice travelling through the house at 7am: “I see Mac and Lauren?!” pasted an instant smile on my face. It’s something I didn’t want to miss, so I hopped out of bed and began each day with whispery hide and seek followed by daring hunts for the cat.

One last chance to brag, Harlow is simply the best because she’s bulletproof. She trundles through the house at full speed and naturally, she falls from time to time. Mostly flat on her face, the type of fall that ceases all momentum and glee. There is a special pause that follows this in which the child can choose 2 paths: the slow-build whine to cry, or the high road. This is a choice because it’s proven that children 95% rubber and 5% sticky hands. So Harlow, the Rockstar Bandito, takes the pause moment to encounter a new world, she looks around from the worms-eye-view and finds new things to play with. A discarded rubber band, or “A LEAF! HAHAHAHA!”

Did I mention cartoons include the timeless Frozen? It really grows on you the sixth time though.

All this is to say, I love being an Uncle and have now been confronted with the uncomfortable truth that fathering a child, would be a bit more satisfying than fathering a cat. Having said that, we’re in no rush, this is not a baby announcement post, and Moses just turned 11 so I’m thrilled to stay Uncle Doodoo (apt nickname) for a while.

Ch. 65 The Big Day

7/31/2020 (officially)

I’ve attended my fair share of weddings. I’ve seen shotgun weddings, traditional weddings, saw my Dad get married, saw him marry his best friend as the officiant, and I’ve even married as an officiant as well. Given the background, I am well aware of what the format looks like, and what goes into such a big, big day.

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We had plans to do a big shebang but as most things went in 2020, we had to adjust, then adjust again, then eventually cancel the whole event. It was a big mental loss for something we’d worked hard to make a reality.

However the end result, eloping in the mountains, was so much better than any big party we could have ever planned. As other couples are facing these decisions right now, I wanted to give you all the story of our big day from end to end. Partially to brag—this was the single coolest thing I’ve ever done—but also to encourage others to look at it as not just an alternative, but a viable front runner for their wedding.

2 a.m. Bears

“Watch out for bears” was the repeated advice Lauren’s Mother gave us as we told her about our plan. We had to start the trail at 3am in order to catch sunrise, avoid winds and potential summer thunder storms that usually roll through Blue Lakes, our favorite hike in Colorado that tops out at 12,000 feet. In the mountains above Telluride, CO that’s a pretty decent time to run into some black bears.

As we rolled out of our Airbnb’s parking lot in Telluride at 2am, a full grown black bear trundled across our headlights. He was feasting off the wealthy local garbage in an alleyway and was equally as surprised to see us as we were him. So that was our bear sighting, no spray was needed and a nice thick layer of Subaru separated us from any danger, but it certainly woke us up.

3 a.m. Stars

At the trailhead we met our photographer and her fiancé for the first time, she planned out everything to a T in order for us to get the best bang for out buck, and best lighting for our ceremony. That meant we would arrive at the top of the third lake by sunrise around 6.

Finding solitude on a Colorado trail is rare if not impossible. However starting your hike at 3 gives you that luxury. It also makes the uphill approach much more enjoyable, you can stargaze on breaks and you don’t have to manage summit expectations when you can’t see it. One last luxury: take a pee break whenever you like. Extra bonus when you see a shooting star during a break (which we did).

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My body and mind played a few tricks as we climbed. They wanted to know why I was A) awake, B) gaining elevation, and C) about to make a lifelong commitment. So I asked for roughly 6 pee stops in a 3 hour time frame. I was well-hydrated and had no pre-wedding heebie jeebies, but my bladder did protest.

6 a.m. Aloft

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We arrived at the hill above the third lake at exactly 5:58 a.m. a solid two minutes ahead of schedule. Our headlamps had been turned off at this point and we went to our respective nooks to get dressed. Changing on a craggy rock is just as thrilling as it sounds and Lauren was swift as she swapped outfits, a few nearby campers were barely in the line of sight but were understandably still asleep. After producing heat on such a consistent climb, standing still to change made us realize it was around 50 degrees. I was glad to be wearing a suit, and when Lauren crested the hill for our first look, I was doubly glad she was wearing a dress. She was stunning.

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And cold. We had the expert foresight from our photographer to bring a blanket (neutral toned per instruction). This was crucial for the ceremony.

6:30 a.m. Elevated Ceremony

Given the description of our journey to this point, you may be able to see why we scrapped the guest list. Travelling for weddings to major cities is enough, asking your loved ones to schlep before dawn up a mountain is a whole new beast. And for that reason, it was remarkably intimate.

We asked our immediate family members to write us letters to read out loud during our ceremony, so we opened each one and enjoyed a surprise from each envelope. Some with humor, others with extremely poignant emotion, we even got a red sunflower seeds from Travis’ envelope. Reading from each one brought us close in a way that tuned the rest of the world out. I had to run to Lauren’s backpack here and there to grab one thing or another and found myself struck by the backdrop and the lighting that frankly, we were missing because for that 30 minutes the only thing that existed was each other and the warmth we felt from our family.

After a few tears and just as many laughs we were able to share our vows to each other. Lauren was nervous about this part leading up to the big day. I don’t see why, I may have a blog but that doesn’t qualify me as a writer, it just means I owe Square Space money each year. What she wrote blew me away. It did circles around my vows and that’s all I have to share with you. Our vows were written for each other, and that’s how they’ll stay.

7-ish a.m. Sunshine and Snacks

Per usual hiking tradition, we brought meat, cheese, and bread to snack on and refuel for the hike down. When a photographer is involved it looks much more glamorous. At this point the sun had emerged from behind Mt Sneffels, the adjacent 14er. We soaked up some warmth and enjoyed a variety of Kodak moments: popping champagne, drinking it’s remainder, and refilling the flutes with our favorite IPA.

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We even attempted face-timing Mrs. Fun, AKA Lauren’s Mom.

9 a.m. Smell Each Other

“Smell each other” was one of many prompts our photographer gave us to create some fun and romantic moments. While smelling each other produced a somewhat — OK, a very — awkward picture, other prompts were more fun: walk like you’re drunk, play tug-a-war, and a variety of dances. Most of the rest of our time in the mountains was a leisurely photo shoot in our favorite place, peppered with hikers wishing us congratulations.

We had privacy for our ceremony, and positive encouragement once the rest of Colorado got on the trail. Several female hikers were jealous. Jealous of our beautiful wedding setting, and I suspect a little jealous that we’d found each other. We heard a lot of “when I find a man, I’m doing what you guys did.”

And Back Again

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We took our sweet time enjoying a day of perfect weather and skipped down the mountain with rings on our fingers. At the parking lot our photographer signed the marriage certificate as a solemnized minister in the state of Colorado (total package!).

We drowsily drove back to Telluride through the San Juan mountains and quickly fell asleep around 3 p.m. Then we had our true 2020 moment when we shifted our dinner reservations to decadent take-out.

It was the perfect day, we felt the warmth of every place and person that has helped us find each other along the way, and it was simple. I cannot recommend this type of wedding enough because instead of paying the full bill for a big party, we turned that funding towards buying a house, in which I am comfortably writing this piece to you.

Now when I call the electrician, I get to check with my WIFE to see if Thursday afternoon will work. Life is good.

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All photo credit goes to our photographer, Tatum Olson - http://tatumolson.com/

Ch. 64 Ode to Moses

9/1/2020

Pets are a clear asset these days. Puppy fever has gripped the nation and an onslaught of needy puppies are being brought up in apartments that were once deemed too small. Families that previously lacked the time and attention to give pet-rearing a go are now scooping (or leaving) poop on your sidewalk in droves. It’s a good time to be a vet while we all suffer from puppy fever.

Us cat folk are just happy to play cats* through the lock-downs. Allow me to unpack this term, while dog people get to go on runs, throw balls, and generally be overactive with their pets, us cat people can also play, but in a more muted and subtle fashion.

Playing cats is to emulate their lifestyle: lay around, eat when you like, and not really emote unless necessary. It’s the couch potatoes best life but you have to make do wherever, like cats. They can sleep on a newspaper atop a hardwood floor and make it look like a plush mattress.

My cat, little sweet baby Moses, recently went to the dentist for what was supposed to be a two tooth extraction. Turns out if you put off the dentist for a couple months your gum disease can spread and it becomes a full tooth extraction. The poor 10-year old, nine-pound, Moses had to lose all her teeth in one day.

Since then we’ve been fussing over her every move while she rides out her prescription and generally sends rueful stares at her dirty paws. Imagine having your wisdom teeth pulled without explanation and then deal with a sharp brushy tongue that grates on your new mouth wounds every time you try to eat.

Aside from her newly gummy mouth, Moses has provided us some serious comfort as we’ve been relegated to the apartment in the past few months. She even joined us for our interstate trips to visit family, sitting on the driver’s shoulder for nearly every minute of the drive.

As usual, she made friends along the way whether it was a lucky motorist whose day was made with a glimpse of Mo or my mother in law enjoying a game of playing cats via naps.

Not being a human parent myself, seeing Moses give joy to others are rare moments of pure and simple pride. Not only pride but little intense love pangs will come through when Moses is really shining. Having raised her from a days-old stray in Spokane all through to her 10th year, I feel a responsibility that can only be described as parenthood. To be completely honest, as a kitten she once attempted to latch…for milk…it was awkward but I guess I am her new age human mother/father.

Since her recent procedure left us with some sleepless nights, I also recognize that I like sleeping and am in no big rush to make a little hell-raiser of my own. Plus, how would Moses feel? She’s been in my lap this entire time and I don’t think she’s thrilled by the idea. We’ll wait.

So cheers little Mo, may her gums not bleed and her curiosity return soon. Also a sidelong cheers to those who have housed her while I traveled and generally took time off from being a human cat mother/father.

Moses healing / Moses Driving / Sun Valley Moses / Wisconsin Moses / Sleepy Moses

*Playing cats is a term made up by friends of a friend, not us, we wish.

Ch. 63 Dear MBA

12/16/18

Dear MBA,

I was warned this program was a really difficult undertaking, that it wasn’t going to be easy, but to be honest, undergrad wasn’t all that hard so, why would this be? I mean, it makes no sense to take the advice of others and ignore my personal experience as a young white male.

It turns out this is really much harder than I expected so I’d like to offer you a deal, let’s just say I got Bs throughout, and a couple of classes came through with an A so therefore we’ve got your standard B+ average. I’ll ensure you get your tuition payments on time. Sounds to me like I’m on schedule to graduate with that degree in 2020.

Excellent, I’m glad we had this talk and could come to the same conclusion. I’ll just be on my way then.

Thanks,

Mac

Here’s Lauren burning the early morning oil. One fruit of this finals labor is a good sunrise.

Ch. 62 Oasis Rates are High

4/22/18

You’re walking in a desert, it’s been months since you’ve had water, but somehow you travel on with a sandpaper tongue and your resume. On the horizon a person appears, they are put together, look hydrated, and would be happy to talk with you about the desert. You ask where one can find an oasis that has water, you even mention that at your last desert you made so much water for them, your team took over the global water operations for the oasis.

They smile reassuringly, “Oh you’ll love this desert, there’s so many interesting oases’ doing innovative stuff, with experience like yours, you should have no trouble at all getting a spot at the waterline.”

Yep, cool. Thanks.

Camelback, hat, sunnies, you can be "prepared" but unless you've locked an oasis, it's a tough road.

You set back to walking along with hundreds of others. All with resume in hand, dehydration setting in.

Your parents call, “any water yet?” you assure them you’re close to an oasis, you can see it on the horizon. A week later they ask again, and no, it was only a mirage.

Sometimes you find shade with other searchers at networking events. Though enjoyable, they are temporary.

Update 7/16/18 – Rehydration

Found an oasis after six and a half months of this desert. A word to the wise, don’t enter the desert without a couple good options signed, sealed, and ready for a spot at the waterline. The unemployment desert is only fun when you don’t have to worry about mirages and hydration.

Ch. 61 The Ridiculous Back of My Head

6/26/18

When I was 20 years old I visited my roommate at his summer job as a rafting instructor on the Deschutes river in Oregon. He knew the little town of Maupin like the back of his hand, so much that most illegal access areas were open to a smiling river rat like him. So we went to the highest jumping point guarded by a national park service ranger who high fived our buddy and let us through.

I resolved not to look until I jumped. It was somewhere between 60 and 80 feet high and you can see from the look on my face, the drop was a surprise.

Afterwards, I was extremely proud of my accomplishment and sent the photos to my family. My Dad’s response stood out. Instead of astonishment or congratulations, he made fun of me for going bald.

Zooming in a couple hundred feet he clearly pointed out a bald spot beginning. He averages 10 emails a week so I wrote it off as too much computer time on his part, my hair was wet, whatever Dad.

Not long ago I was at a bachelor party watching Rafa Nadal win the French Open for the 14th time in his career. My friends chuckled “his hair looks like Mac’s” noting that it was thinning, not the lustrous locks he’d been branded with in the past. I laughed with them and made sure that mine wasn’t that bad…yet.

To go from outright denial at 20 to acceptance eight years later was not easy. In all honesty, the concept never occurred to me until my 28th birthday when a balding Bruno made fun of my own bald spot. He’s a tough love friend but good to have around because we were surfing three times a day in Indonesia at the time. Without his commentary I wouldn’t have sprayed sunscreen on my balding spot and it would have been a painful trip.

It was more than just adjusting my sunscreen routine, I had to come to grips with balding. Other young guys going bald always seemed to place too much importance on hairlines. But to me it was a clear inevitability based on their fathers, why were they surprised? Hadn’t they prepared for this their whole life? Until recently, I subscribed to the Grandfather on your Mother’s side myth. If he had his hair, so will you.

Myth busted. If you’re living by that ignorant tale, reorient to your dad’s shiny head and prepare yourself both mentally and emotionally. I purposefully picked desks in the corner at work for a month straight when I found out my stupid hair had quit in the top center. I didn’t want anybody discovering what I had when they walked by a sitting, balding, Mac.

If it weren’t for Bruno, I’m not sure when I would have found the spot – it’s impossible to see from my perspective. Being self aware is impossible without friends to keep you in check. The next time your buddy gives you a hard time, don’t brush it off, listen and dig in if you think there’s more truth than jokes in it. Be thankful that your friends are assholes and love to make jokes at your expense, otherwise you’d have no idea you’re balding. While ignorance is bliss, self awareness prevents sunburns.