Category Archives: Life

Aim High and Fail Big — My New Life Motto

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A black T‑shirt featuring a bold retro-style graphic with the motto “Aim High Fail Big,” including a rocket launch, mountains, stars, and playful illustrations of misadventures.The T‑Shirt That Sums Me Up

 

 I saw a phrase the other day that absolutely sums up my entire existence. I need it on a T‑shirt, a mug, maybe even a bumper sticker (if I still had a car).

Aim High and Fail Big.

Honestly? If there were Olympic medals for enthusiastic misfires, I’d have a shelf full of gold.

Never a Boring Moment

Looking back — which is allowed because I’m officially “old enough to reflect” — I can say with confidence that my life has been… let’s call it eventful. Not always successful, not always sensible, but never dull.

I’ve always believed life should be lived fully. Sometimes that means doing things that terrify me just to see what they’re like. Am I an adrenaline junkie? Not really. I draw the line at jumping out of planes. Zip‑lining looked fun, but my joints now file formal complaints if I even think about impact sports.

College: High Hopes, Low Follow‑Through

Let’s start with college. Before that, my parents kept me more or less contained. Then came freedom — and the 60s/70s. Flower children, protests, Kent State, the whole wild swirl.

By my rural upbringing standards, I was a Wild Child. In reality, I was just high on trying new things and low on studying. I dropped out after two years. Epic fail? Sure. But would I trade the fun? Absolutely not.

Early Career: Ambition Meets Chaos

Then came my early work years. I aimed high professionally… and also aimed high socially, because back then everyone partied like it was a competitive sport. No one reined me in, and I was determined to keep up.

I once went boating in a nor’easter. Yes, a nor’easter. No, I don’t recommend it. Yes, it was a rush.

Eventually I burned out like a candle in the wind. I drifted a bit before landing at a dance studio. I loved it. I had stage fright. Naturally, I bought a franchise.

Best years of my work life — until it wasn’t. I sold at a loss. Another spectacular fail. But oh, the stories.

Then came Comcast. Enough said.

Vacation Adventures: Still Aiming HighApproaching Grizzly

You’d think I’d have learned to dial it back. But no. Even on vacation, I’m still me.

Take the time I tried to get the perfect photo of a bear. Not a safe photo. Not a zoom‑lens photo. No, I wanted the epic shot — the kind National Geographic photographers get after three months in the wilderness and a signed waiver.

There I was, camera in hand, thinking, This is going to be amazing. Meanwhile the bear was thinking, Lady, I don’t even know you.

Did I get the photo? Absolutely not. Did I survive? Shockingly, yes. Did I fail big? Oh, in spectacular fashion. But I aimed high — and that’s the whole point.

Why I Love This Motto

My life has never been neat, tidy, or sensible. But it has been full — of adventures, misfires, detours, and stories that make people say, “You did WHAT?”

So yes, I want the T‑shirt. Because “Aim High and Fail Big” isn’t a warning. It’s a celebration.

It means you tried. It means you lived. It means you’ve got stories worth telling — even the ones where the bear wins.

Coming Full Circle

And after all the adventures — the nor’easter boating, the psychedelic college years, the dance‑studio detour, the bear‑photo fiasco, the helicopter thrill rides, and even that day I stood there grinning while holding a hawk like it was the most normal thing in the world — I figured I’d end this post with a little proof that I’ve always been this way.

Long before the adrenaline experiments, the questionable decisions, and the spectacular misfires, there was me, aiming high in the most literal way possible.

Pom‑poms. Pep. Arms in the air. Confidence for days. Absolutely no idea what was coming next.

Turns out I’ve been “Aim High, Fail Big” since the very beginning.

 

“And They Walk Among Us” — Featuring Bizmanic

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“Red wheelbarrow with wooden handles next to a caution sign reading ‘Not intended for highway use,’ highlighting a humorous and unnecessary product warning label.”

Proof That Common Sense Isn’t Common

Have you ever heard the expression “And they walk among us” — usually said with that tone of marvelous disbelief? Then we laugh and shake our heads. How could anyone be so stupid!

Well, I’ve found a creator who has built his entire brand around calling out these moments. His name is Bizmanic, and he has perfected the art of showcasing the everyday absurdities of the human race.

Some of his greatest hits include:

• Are You Smarter Than the Average Customer

• Top 20 Complaints

• Top 10 Entitled Customers

• Top 10 Dumbest Reasons Someone Got Fired

• Complaints From Entitled People Who Went on Vacation

• And the best of all: a list of ridiculous product warning labels

There are probably more, but honestly… aren’t these enough?

Let me give you a few examples of the kinds of stories he tells — and yes, these things really do happen.

Story Box 1 — The Comcast Call

Let me give you an example. This is a story about being a call center helpline representative for Comcast aka Xfinity. You know, that company we all love to hate. Callers are mad before you even have a chance to pick up the phone. I’ve even answered this very same question.  So here it is

I can assure you this really happens. I spent nine years at Comcast, several of them in that same tech‑support queue, and I have personally answered this exact question more times than I can count. Back then, before everyone switched to streaming, the cable box was the only clue people had. Now your smart TV just taps into Wi‑Fi — but if the power is out, nothing works anyway.

Story Box 2 — The Blockbuster Puppy Incident

Do you remember Blockbuster Video? Rows and rows of VHS tapes and DVDs lining the walls.

A customer once walked in, looked around at all the movie cases, and asked:

“So… where do you keep the puppies?”

I still don’t know what movie they thought they were renting, but I sincerely hope they didn’t leave disappointed.

Story Box 3 — The Grocery Store Beef Revelation

Then there was the customer who was shocked — genuinely shocked — to learn that beef comes from cows. This was brand‑new information to them.

Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not let this person do my grocery shopping.

But like I said, the warning labels post was the best. These are the ones that make me question Darwin. Survival of the fittest? If you need these warnings, how are you still walking among us?

A few gems:

• “Do not iron clothes while wearing them.”

• “Not for contact with eyes or genitals.”

• “Remove child before folding stroller.”

So folks, if you want a good laugh and don’t mind someone poking fun at the absurdities of life, you have to check out Bizmanic on Facebook. He’s proof that common sense isn’t common — but at least it’s entertaining.

 

A Heartfelt Thank You to My Readers and Supporters

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“A black cat and an orange cat perched side‑by‑side on their cat tree, looking like unlikely but perfect partners in crime.”

Getting closer

Why Your Support Matters More Than You Know

I wanted to take a moment to thank you — my readers, followers, friends, and family — for your continued support. Without you, this blog would be little more than a personal diary. With you, I get to travel the world from my desktop and share the journey.

When I was on the reader side of things, I never realized how much creators, podcasters, and bloggers rely on their followers. Your interactions help with rankings, visibility, and growth. For many creators, that growth is their livelihood.

I only dabble in monetizing at this point, so I’m not dependent on it — but I’d be lying if I said I don’t check my performance stats first thing every morning. I set goals for views and visitors, and every “Like” is a little celebration. Comments? Those absolutely make my day. When I hear from you, I know I’ve hit the mark.

I wanted to give you a peek into the world we bloggers and creators live in, and to tell you how much it means to have you here with me.

Thank you for stopping by.
Thank you for taking the time to read my blather.
Thank you for sharing my posts with your friends and family.

Banner, Balboa, and I appreciate it more than you know.

Parkour Madness

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Two cats engaged in a friendly wrestling match, paws wrapped around each other.

The Night the Zoomies Took Flight

It was a parkour moment of madness.

It started like any normal night. We had our before‑bed play session, and then Banner climbed onto the top of my dresser and refused to come down — so we skipped the bedtime grooming with the glove. Fine. I got myself settled into bed, eyes just starting to get heavy, drifting toward sleep.

And then it happened.

Little cat feet came stampeding my way. A bounce on my feet at the end of the bed — just a quick pounce and gone. Then a mad scramble on the floor, some batting, some wrestling, and then… stillness.

I let my eyes close again.

That’s when I heard something behind me, followed by a blur of orange fluff skimming my head and landing with a whump right in front of my face. Eighteen pounds of fat cat. My heart was pounding. I swear I felt claws scrape my scalp (and maybe my face), but Banner simply repositioned himself on the nightstand and stared at me like a stone gargoyle.

Then something caught his attention.
His ears perked; he stretched up. Balboa was peeking over the footboard — and that was all it took.

 

They were off again, over the bed and into the living room. The parkour moment had passed.

The 3:30 a.m. Aftermath

Around 3:30 a.m., I made my nightly trip to the bathroom. Banner followed, calm as could be, as if the earlier chaos had never happened. When I came back to bed, Balboa had made himself comfortable — totally normal. But then Banner hopped up and took my side of the bed. No room for Mom.

But it was so unusual, I couldn’t even be mad. We had a late‑night, early‑morning cuddle session until Balboa realized his brother was next to him. Then off they went again, and I finally got the bed back.

Fitbit always tells me I don’t get restful sleep.
I wonder why.

 

Trying Out Car‑Free Living in Massachusetts

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Public transit bus on a quiet road surrounded by trees.

Trying Out Car‑Free Living in Massachusetts

For most of my adult life, having a car was just… normal. It sat in the driveway, ready for short errands, grocery runs, and the occasional appointment. But over the past year, the math stopped making sense. Between rising medical co‑pays, insurance rates that seem to go up just because they can, and Massachusetts’ infamous excise tax, I found myself paying more to own the car than I ever spent to drive it.

I was only putting a couple thousand miles a year on the odometer. A few trips to the store. A doctor’s appointment here and there. Nothing that justified the monthly insurance bill, the gas, the maintenance, the taxes, and the general “just in case” expense of keeping a vehicle I barely used.

And now that I’m retired, we can scratch the commuting part right off the list. Suddenly the car feels far less necessary. What used to be a “must‑have” has turned into an expensive convenience.

So I made a decision:
I turned in my car.

Not lost it.
Not had it taken away.
I chose to let it go.

And once I said it out loud, the reactions came pouring in.

Friends, neighbors, and even a few casual acquaintances had opinions — strong ones. Some thought it was smart. Others thought I was out of my mind. Joe told me about a woman he knows who ditched her car years ago and now uses Uber for everything. According to her, she saves a fortune and never has to worry about repairs, inspections, or surprise breakdowns. That story stuck with me.

So here I am, trying out car‑free living in Massachusetts to see how it goes.

Getting Around Without a Car

Massachusetts isn’t exactly known for smooth, seamless public transit, but it does have options — you just have to know where to look.
Don’t believe me? Just read my earlier post,
“Boston Transit – First in the Nation, Last to Arrive”
and you’ll see exactly what I mean.

Cabs, Uber, and Lyft

These are the obvious choices. They’re not cheap, but they’re reliable, and for short trips they’re still far less expensive than owning a car I barely used.

Dial‑A‑Ride

This one has already become a favorite. For $3.00 round‑trip, Dial‑A‑Ride will take me to the store and pick me up again. They send a text when the driver is on the way, and another when they’re one minute out. There’s a 15‑minute pickup window, but you can text “ETA” and get an instant update telling you exactly where you fall in that window. It’s surprisingly efficient and takes a lot of the guesswork out of waiting.

GATRA Bus System

The bus literally picks up on my corner and goes straight to Hannaford. Right now, the buses are free until June 30. After that, we’ll see if the politicians decide to renew the program. I’m hopeful, but I’m also realistic.

Delivery Services

Between Hannaford To Go, DoorDash, and Instacart, Uber eats, etc.  I can get groceries and essentials without needing to leave the house. It’s not something I want to rely on all the time, but it’s a great backup.

What About Travel?

Honestly, the only time I’d really need a car is if I start traveling again. And if that happens, I won’t be driving around Massachusetts — I’ll be renting a car somewhere far away, preferably somewhere warm, sunny, and blissfully free of excise taxes.

If I’m in a tropical paradise, I’m not bringing a Massachusetts car with me. I’ll rent one at the airport like everyone else.

And for the occasional local need, there’s the new kid on the block: Flexcar. It’s expensive, yes, but it doesn’t lock you into a long‑term lease or a car payment. Insurance is included, so there are no surprise bills. It’s a “use it when you need it” option, and that flexibility is worth something.

My First Dial‑A‑Ride Experience

I’ll admit, I was nervous the first time I scheduled a Dial‑A‑Ride trip. It felt strange to plan ahead for something I used to do on autopilot. But the process was easier than I expected. I called, booked the time, and waited.

The van pulled up right on schedule. The driver was friendly, the ride was smooth, and for the first time since turning in my car, I felt a little spark of confidence. Maybe this really can work.

 

So What’s Next?

Car‑free doesn’t mean light‑traveling. Some days I’m my own pack mule.

I’m not declaring myself permanently car‑free. This is an experiment — a practical, budget‑friendly, sanity‑preserving experiment. I’m learning as I go, adjusting where I need to, and discovering that life without a car isn’t the catastrophe some people imagine.

It’s different.
It takes planning.
But it’s doable.

And who knows?

Maybe this will be the start of a whole new chapter.