Buffa's Buffet, Vol. 56: 5 things on my mind

Everything in my mind fit to publish at the moment.

There are sadder things in life than leaving a bottle of Stella Artois in your freezer for too long, but it still hurts. The intent was to provide that perfect chill to the glass; I’m not a “give me a glass with my beer” kind of dude.

I put one in the freezer for what SHOULD have been 10-15 minutes, and proceeded to do about nine different tasks. THIRTY minutes later, I got the bottle out and took a sip. One drink in, I was winning. The beer was super-chilled, ready to please. The second, third, and fourth sips were like making out with a beer glacier.

That one is in the sink as I begin this latest buffet reading. Keep in mind these are written over a matter of days sometimes. Most of the types happen in one sit, but then the wife shows up with penne and garlic bread. A full belly and some “Jack Ryan” later, this could find its way to a conclusion.

But I have no intent to try and keep up with the thunderous pace of the current news cycle. Breaking news grows a five o’clock shadow faster than it did a few years ago, and I considered that speed too quick. I prefer to let the news land, detonate, and spread out to the masses. It is then that I take a shot--only if I really give a shit.

No one subscribed to this blog for political commentary, tales from the church, or some golf takes. What I like to talk about hasn’t changed in years. Cannabis discussion will be more common here, so that can be categorized as “new.” Otherwise, let’s carry on with some opinions.

First off, bad drivers graduate to a whole new level of “suck” in bad weather. A tale as old as time on St. Louis soil. Hampton Avenue is like Daytona Shitolla for this kind of action. It’s now to down to one lane in each direction in South Hampton, and a suicide lane for both directions to share. Alas, this only makes bad drivers worse. Throw in some nasty weather, and things go to double jeopardy Fuckville next.

Snow, rain, ice, or a mix of both; it’s like throwing extra oil on a searing pan of smoke. Distance judgement, speed, weaving, etc. You name it, and St. Louis has it covered.

Second, I’m getting really tired of judgmental parents. As in, other parents standing apart from your life while drawing up their own theories on how you should parent your kid. There’s nothing more tiring than feeling the need to explain your methods to people who barely fucking know you. Seeing your face on occasion at a school event or in carpool doesn’t qualify for dissecting what I do.

It’s not always even affecting my family directly; I see it happening or hear about it. For the 15,405th time, every set of parents does it differently… while following the same general playbook. Keep them alive. Keep them smart. Give them some sense of direction. Be there for them.

However, you can slice that up in many different ways--each household owning a unique blend of those next level adulting spices. The last thing I want to do is try and parent someone else’s kid, in any shape or form. It sounds tiring, and there’s already a little dude in my house sucking up my energy.

Worry about your own kids. In the grand scheme of things, that still stands out as one of life’s greatest challenges.

On a much smaller level of challenging activities for an aging white male, fitness is one of them. I still like running and lifting weights, because it stretches the lifespan out and helps with my mentality. I work out, and feel better about the day. But what clashes up against that is the nagging sense of robotic repetition, and the idea that it’s just another task in my day.

CrossFit is expensive, and so is a boxing gym unless you know Rocky. I have a heavy bag and treadmill, along with some free weights, in my house. I don’t need the gym membership, but a big enough part of me isn’t ready to graduate to home gym workouts only. Not yet! Maybe in five years.

You know what’s been fun on my end? Not getting up every day and wondering what the Cardinals are doing or going to do. The level of sports obsession has decreased for me over the past few years. Back then, I’d be pounding out two Cards articles per day about free agent and trade theories.

It grows tiresome as you age. Baseball and hockey are still my homies and welcome in my house, but the level of how far I sink my heart into losses and disappointment is considerably lower.

Movies are my bestie to the end, though. It’s the same practice as loving a sports team. You love a game (aka movie) and some of its players. You watch intently for 2-3 hours hoping to be satisfied. That’s all the casual fan or even moderate fan wants out of the experience: satisfaction!

Leaving a movie without a whimper or ounce of passion is not satisfying. Watching your team get beat 1-0 isn’t satisfying. Movies are as much of a gamble as sports, but I prefer their one and done (and constant mix) a pleasure.

What else? My final word today is to take care of yourself. Work, bills, health, personal time, etc. We’re only doing this thing once. Then, we’re out. Done. Don’t take life for granted. Something I have grown to understand and fully commit to as I round the base on 40 to 41 here in a matter of weeks.

One last thing, my wife enjoys taking pictures of me sleeping. It started out as a way to tell my social media followings that I actually slept despite my wicked schedule. One day, there’ll be a coffee book waiting for visitors to gander of me snoozing. Mouth open, dream bank doors operating, and the cares of the world left for later.

Enjoy. If you can’t laugh at yourself, what’s the point?

Goodnight.