It’s going to be ok…

 (who am I trying to convince?)  Myself…

Everyday is still a struggle, it’s getting better little by little. I’ve stopped crying randomly for the most part, the numbness is subsiding, and the shock is wearing off. I had an appetite for the first time a few days ago. 

I think I’ve moved onto focusing on setting up a daily routine and going through the motions, because at this point that’s about all I can do. 

I will be ok. I just have to find my new normal. 

Thank you to everyone who texts and talks me through the tough times. 😊


Love you dad. 

It was seven years ago we lost my father. It was an unimaginable loss, I thought I would never recover from. Not a day goes by without thinking of him. I am no longer sad about losing him, as much as I am happy for having him been in my life. He loved me unconditionally, he was my hero and my biggest fan.  If it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have my daughter Serenity. If you don’t know the story, let me fill you in…

I was working at Perkins and my POS firebird had broken down because that’s what they do. I was in between cars, this is right before I got my Neon, and My dad was picking me up from work because anytime I ever needed any help, he was there. While I was finishing up work he was waiting in the lobby, and he saw a beautiful young hostess and struck up a conversation with her with I think the intention of being a matchmaker. That hostess was Heather. He told her all about me selling me to her better than any used car salesman could, meanwhile even though she was my coworker, she was new and had no idea who my dad was talking about. That may have been the first time she met me, how I met her is another story. When I was finally clocking out, Heather told me what my dad had done, and normally, a child would be embarrassed about his dad trying to fix him up, one look at her, and I wasn’t embarrassed as much as grateful. Fast forward a few months later, and Heather and I started on an eight-year adventure that was the best time of my life.

One of the nights I spent with my dad in hospice, we talked about the joy I brought him, and how I couldn’t possibly understand the joy of being a parent until I was one. He wanted me to marry Heather and have a child before he died, his illness made that impossible. He joked about us getting married in the chapel there and using his and my mom’s rings. Now that I think about it, he may not have been kidding. The joke became that Heather and I were in an arranged marriage, in some ways it was. I was grateful for his help. A while after his passing and after being married, I decided to take his advice and we decided to try for a baby. I understood the joy my dad Albert Lewis Burdge was talking about from the moment I saw the top of Serenity’s head and every day after. Absolutely Heather did the hard work of growing the human and giving me my Serenity, but what if my dad sitting on those uncomfortable wooden slat lobby benches in that building that smells like fryer grease and mold hadn’t had the thought “She’s a beautiful girl, she would make a good wife for my Albie, I should go talk to her”  

Life isn’t about the big things it’s the little things that add up and make us who we are. Thank you, Dad, for always being there for me, loving me, looking out for me, showing me by example, how to be an amazing father, and being the ultimate wing man. I love you.


Take me out

The baseball game was fun because I got to spend the day with Serenity. We aren’t a sports family, but the excitement in her eyes with each new experience brings me joy. I love her and I love spending time with her. We stayed for half the game, about an hour and a half. I thought it was my idea but I saw a lot of other parents with little ones doing the same. I was able to get her home and showered and in bed by 9:30. Past her bedtime, but not bad for a 7pm game. She ate park food, got to meet a mascot, got baseball cards and cheered whenever someone hit the ball. It was her first baseball game, it seemed silly at the time to go, but the memories will last a lifetime. All my love to this amazing little girl.


The 30 hour day. Or Reset Point.

*Disclaimer. This is only my perception of actual events. 


 Recent events in my life have brought me to what I am now calling my reset point. Where I evaluated who I was and what I was doing and how I was treating others, and how that effected others. I also looked at all my activities and how much time I spent on them. I compared these activities against my family, and chose what was more important. It’s something that requires or involves little or no mental effort, to figure out. Family, my family of Heather and Serenity are more important than anything else I do.  

I have a very creative side to me, which I thought I needed to express. Very often the ways I expressed my creativeness didn’t include Heather or Serenity. 

My main project that I thought included Heather, The Quantum Leap Podcast, even with this activity Heather felt like she was not part of the process.  She was the host of the show, along with me, but in me trying to be all inclusive of the Quantum Leap fan community, I offered people a chance to contribute to the show via feedback, and even having segments on the show. This more and more made here feel less a part of the project, and another thing I was doing without her.  Why was I even doing the show? I enjoyed it, I enjoyed doing something creative with Heather, and it was fun to host a show thousands of people listed to. One of which betrayed me. At my reset point, I retired from hosing podcasts. 

I also once a year for about 4 days would be a professional wrestling referee. Even though she enjoyed our friends we’d see each time we went, it was always a source of friction for us, because it was yet another thing I did without her. Especially when I did the odd booking with other organizations and she couldn’t come with me.  The start of the end of my career in pro wrestling was when I took Heather with me on a trip to the east coast, when me as The Weather Man was scheduled to manage the tag team of Thender Storm, Gary Thunder and Eric Storm. 

The show went off without a hitch, other than I should have bumped from a punch from a giant, but there was no pad on the concrete floor. 

The problem was at the end of the night, after I reconnected with Heather, we went to pick up my bag, and what I can only describe as a fake Russian, yelled at Heather and made her cry because she was in the “locker room” kitchen of a VFW with me. This guy was jacked on steroids and drunk, there was no way for me to defend her honor without ending up with a broken jaw. So we left. Heather was crying and I was emasculated. Not a fun hobby. And it progressively got worse, at a NEW show I was rag doll slammed and my sternum was fractured. I took many weeks before I was able to breathe without pain. This injury made me realize I had a child, and what if I had an injury that prevented me from working. Not fun. All that combined with the friction wrestling caused in my relationship, I didn’t want to do it any longer, but the idea of it and the friends I made performing, that, I didn’t want to give up… Yet. At my reset point, I retired from professional wrestling. 
Social media has become a virtual reality more important than actual reality. Time moves faster there, and seems more important than real life. I broke the addiction, yesterday was my first day sober, away from social media. A normal day that goes by in a perceived 4 hours, now seems like 30, and I was able to get so much more done, like cleaning, and spending time with Ren. Now that I’m out I see everyone else living in their lives in a 5.50-inch touchscreen display, and I want to tell them, but it won’t help, I was told, I never listened. I’m out, I took the blue pill, or was it the red?
In many ways by having my own friends, doing my own projects, ignoring my family for these I was acting “like a bachelor”. It was never my intention of ignoring my wife and child, and I didn’t realize it was perceived as such, I thought people had friends and hobbies outside of their families. Mine were all consuming, that was the problem. Instead of me showing up two hours before showtime at wrestling, I’d show up eight hours before and help put he ring together. I made the QLP the best show I could, with the best content, and production value I could. This took a month for each episode and countless nights editing. Also being the producer and having a vision and being the only one responsible for the overall content of the show, caused me to be too much of a director, and less of a husband. I conceived of a new show with hosts other than me about the new Hulu series 11.22.63. Again it was all consuming for me, and I became really good friends with the the other three people involved, again unintentionally excluding my wife, and family as a whole. 

Now a lot of these things I did obsessively, and all consuming, caused nagging, understandably so. The nagging caused me to be a jerk. Both the nagging and me being a jerk became over a year, an all out war. I became an asshole and pushed the one person in the world that was on my side away from me. It reached a breaking point a few weeks ago, that I didn’t know about, and I was fighting a war that the other side had given up on. Then about a week ago, both sides lost. We took a wrong turn, not the first by any recount of the story, all the previous wrong turns being mine. To continue this contrived metaphor, at the final destination of this last wrong turn we arrived at my reset point. I could have handled this many ways, most of them wrong. Luckily I immediately concluded this situation was a result of my actions, and my culpability in this matters as absolut. The war ended. 

And like when most wars end, all that’s left is rubble and a lot of people asking, “How did we get here?” “How could we let this happen?” “What was it all for?” We are now left with rubble and a lot of hurt. 

This was my reset point. I decided to start by picking up the first piece of brick from what used to be a lovely pre-war era home, and start rebuilding. 

The epiphany I had, that I was the bad guy, the monster that tried to take over the world, will make the process of rebuilding even more difficult. Will the allied forces ever forgive and learn to trust the mad man again? Only time will tell. Everyone thinks they are the good guys, until they have that moment, when they know they were on the wrong side of history. I didn’t move to South America, I’m staying and trying to fix what I destroyed. 

This bad drive, yes I’m back to that, will never be forgotten by the driver or the passenger, however it taught me an important lessen. When you make a turn, or decision, know where that route may take you. Do you want to go there? Is the war woth fighting? And what’s the result if you win? Trick question, in war there are no winners, just too much loss. 


Swing set… Rusted

Sportspower Super 8 Fun Metal Swing Set

Walmart #: 553623113 

After one year outside this totally rusted to a point it was a safety hazard for children. The horse and seesaw fell down from rust. It is a really nice set, too bad it wasn’t made out of a better material that didn’t rust 🙁 maybe good for a one event use, but don’t buy it if you want something to last more than a year. 



The Martian

12079580_10153544334325306_8456620219219788823_nFirst off, The Martian is a great movie. This was the first movie I saw that was adapted from a book that I had read. I now understand the frustration some people feel watching a film that couldn’t possibly include everything the book did.

They got a lot right in the film, I have no complaint, I enjoyed it. The one part I was waiting for and they didn’t include was the conversation between the youngest crew member and her father.

Watching a movie that you read the book of is like watching the book in fast forward, or what I imagine speed reading would be like.

My experience, was touch and go at the beginning.  I saw it in 3D, and in the theater I was in, the projector was messed up. The previews were doubled images, like I wasn’t wearing my glasses, knowing what little I know about the technology involved, I thought perhaps both lenses of my 3D glasses were polarized the same way maybe?..  So I traded them out, and went pee, to get that in under the deadline. I got back into the theater at the end of the last 3D preview and the movie started, it wasn’t the glasses. at this point about 6 people left the theater, I assumed to tell the manager about the problem, nope.  I would have went to tell someone, but I didn’t want to miss any part of the movie, blurry as it was. So at the ten minute mark of the film, I used my portable communication device to call the theater. The recording gave me the option to talk to a manager by pressing 7. I did then press 7. The recording then told me the other phone number to contact the manager. Without having some way of logging the number, I had to remember it. It was all up to me at this point. I cleared my mind of all the extraneous thoughts that are always running through my mind and thought of nothing, not even the all important phone number. I hung up and typed the number, my best guess was I’d get a wrong number, but my plan had worked. The voice on the other end said “Marquee Cinemas…”. To finally make contact with another human being after all these problems started, was exciting. I thought, now I might just survive to tell others about this. If you’re reading this, I did. I told the woman on the phone “I’m in theater 6, and the projector is broken”. I had meant to say malfunctioning, but with all the excitement, and, still trying to pay attention to the film, I had just blurted out what I could think of at that moment. Would she understand me? Would she be able to help? She told me in a calm voice “I’ll tell the manager”. She got my message. It was all going to be OK. The movie had gotten off to a rough start, but I was going to be able to see Matt Damon in 3D and not double 2D. For about five more minutes, I wondered if my message had fell on deaf ears or worse yet, what if the number was wrong, and the people with the close enough phone number just liked messing with the many people who misdialed them…  What if the girl who was to relay my message had accidentally slipped on some golden flavored oil that had been dripped on the floor, why did I have to say extra butter!… The movie paused, the screen went black. There was five seconds of a deafening silence and complete darkness, that unless you were in that theater, would be impossible to explain. The movie started over and the 20th Century Fox logo appeared on the screen, in 3D. I had solved the problem, and with the help of the crew in the projection room, movie night was saved. The guy behind me said “Good job.” and as I remeber now, may have patted me on the back.
My only thought exiting the theater after the movie was over, was, who could I talk to, to get the big cardboard standing poster of The Martian?



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