I was thinking about this topic a great deal as I was busy rebuilding the site after I over-reacted to a problem with WordPress (likely self-induced) that I suspect was instigated by a “hole” in my security infrastructure.
You know, unless you operate a website, you really can’t appreciate the energy people expend (many of whom are NOT in, or from, America), trying to break your site. A big shout out to my anonymous friends in Russia and China!
Long story short, I got pissed, fumigated (read: blew everything up), and started from scratch.
It may have, ultimately, been an act of divine intervention. For a host of reasons, I decided, in the aftermath, to include advertising here. And even though I’m sure some of you will be turned off by that, I hope – given the times in which we live – you can at least appreciate that there is good reason. Please forbear; I have, at least, been careful in selecting my affiliations, and chosen (where I have control) the types and sorts of offerings that I think are worthy of your consideration… if that’s any consolation.
Along the road to site recovery though… and as I was redefining categories and sections (and placement)… I, quite randomly, got lost in old memories of my experiences on the road in a car JUST like this boat… our ’68 Maroon Bonneville. I’m from that family (and those times) where the words “Sunday Drive” meant something, you see, and where all those backseat daydreams were like mini-adventures. There were SO many miles logged in that car that I could never fully list them here in one entry.
I remember, for example, back when I was 8 when we did our first cross-country trek through the northern US… the purpose being to visit family in Idaho. I remember that we did all the traps along the way – from Rushmore to Yellowstone, and every scenic outlook in between – and, despite whatever else I may have forgotten in my youth, that trip is (and so many others are) forever tattooed into my soul. In fact, I think I may still have that 50 cent deer antler somewhere… or the cedar box with the cheesy decal on it… or a post card or two from Lewiston Hill. [note to self: ought to look for that stuff one of these days]
That road trip down memory lane got me to thinking that I should dedicate a section of this site to those recollections because, well, because I can… and because writing about them helps me remember them better, and helps remind me of all the things in life that truly DO matter and that define who we really are… deep down inside.
Doing that helps with my never-ending pursuit of MyDaveness.
It’s important, I think, to take time out from the drone of our daily grind and summon up the old memories of our past that meant so much to us as we were living them in real-time. I know, speaking for myself, that every time I do that, I can actually feel the smile coming, the Daveness starting to flow, and “hear” my adopted theme song start playing… in my memory-speakers… which is forever burned in my head now that I am fully embracing my own Daveness.
I STRONGLY encourage you to listen to this, as you look at the still video. My prayer for you is that you, too, can start to hear it in the back of your own mind when stress or anxiety tries to rear its ugly head… so that you can beat it back with that sledgehammer it deserves to be beaten with…and let your “fill-in-the-blank-ness” back in.