Use the tool. Don't be the tool

Dear friend. 

It's summer again. 

Can you remember the heat and the dust and the long days?  King of the road crew?  The boss?  That was you.  Yes.  I know. One of the boys.  But a man among men.  Think back to the new hires.  College kids.  Football players eager to show off their muscles.  Remember every summer that there was that kid that looked like he played linebacker at Ohio State?  He'd grab the biggest jackhammer on the first day to prove how tough he was.  Names changed. But the picture looked the same year after year,  didn't it?  That kid would hit the switch, and his body would shake like a Parkinson's patient in the middle of the  Great San Fransisco earthquake of 1906.   And then, without being there, I can tell you what would happen next.  An old guy, smoking a heater, would step up next to him, and in a gravely voice, just above a whisper, say something like, "Looks like there must be something wrong with that one.  Mind if I take a look at it?"  And he'd hold that jackhammer in those rail thin and hard worn arms  like an artist playing an instrument.   

Simply put.  That's the difference between being a tool and using a tool. 

The reason we're having this conversation?  Strangely enough, my friend.  Time is intended to be a tool in your hands.  But time is running you.  Like a Parkinson's patient in the middle of the Great San Fransisco earthquake of 1906.  You know all about the need for financial margin.  Same thing with time. If you've got no margin in your schedule, time is no longer your tool.  You're not running your time.  Time is running you. Do you find yourself saying, "I didn't have time..."  OK.  No judgement, but is that really true.  Just know, The Scientist included some Dad wisdom in his wedding toast at the Captain's wedding.  

The only thing you don't have time to do is to urinate with such constancy, frequency, and direction as to create the Grand Canyon through the process of erosion.  Everything else is a choice.  You had time.  You may have chosen to use it differently, and we can talk about that.  And you can lie to me.  But don't lie to yourself.  You have 168 hours in your week.  How did you choose to spend them? 

No judgment friend. Ask my wife. Ask the Captain. They can tell you. I was the tool for years. But Parkinson's is painful. You think it's painful to live? It's even more painful to watch. I know that sounds strange, or callous, or even downright mean. But I come from a family who have lost love ones to Parkinson's, so I don't speak into the ether. And compared to watching someone be controlled by the tool of time, in many ways, it doesn't even begin to compare. Because when you allow yourself to be controlled by the tool of time, it's not just you whose life is rattled and shook and worn down and exhausted. It's all those you've got on the ride with you. And the worst part about it is sometimes, the rattling and shaking is so normalized, that the cheap carnival ride is all they know. And I know you love them more than that. So, no judgment. But maybe it's time to unplug the tool.

If you need help, I have friends with hands. And other friends with scissors. We're in this together. We love you. Because, believe me, we've all been that guy.

thus spake

me.