What do you want?

What’s your favorite song? Right now I can’t stop listening to Tool’s ‘Lateralus’. The complexity of the time signatures is hypnotic and the message of “keep going” drives me on some mornings.

On my way home from Costco this morning, I realized something important about what I’m doing in politics right now. I’ve written a ‘new song’ in essence. When an artist has the spark within that moves them to create something never heard before, it is only existent in the artists own mind. Think about it… the moment when Mozart started to compose The Requiem, it was already complete and playing on repeat, perfection in his mind.

The moment the SPARK hits, the composition exists in perfection in the artist’s mind.

As beautiful as that initial composition is, the composed reality is usually different. Especially if the composition process is done with other musicians contributing, and that process leads to collaborations that lead to something even more amazing than first envisioned. That’s what makes a supergroup like Queen so much more incredible, all contributing to make something no one individual could.

The rare exception occurs. The spark gives light and the artists sits and creates, as if in one breath, perfection in reality, where any addition to the creation makes it somehow less than it is alone. The story behind the creation of this song is a great example-

I believe I have done that with my Constitutional Amendment.

But I am not sure. Even if I am, it is not up to one individual, as it should be. It is a collaborative process that will involve shaping an imagined idea, existing in perfection only in the minds of a few, but ultimately be something even more amazing than any ONE person can see.

I believe I am justified in my request for an open discussion of this idea, and am currently searching every fiber of my make up to be sure I am correct. I constantly ask myself if I am missing a piece of the puzzle, or if I am worthy of even attempting to run for President. Rehashing every bad decision I’ve ever made. Every person I have wronged in my life. Every heart I have broken. Every illegal act I’ve ever committed… the ones I’ve been caught doing and the ones I have not.

As I weigh all of my actions against a feather, I find I am not pure. As a recovering addict, ten years sober, I know my years as a child bled over into my adult life. I believed the life of drugs and alcohol could coexist with family life. As a child who grew up in the homes of addicts, my frame of reference was skewed. I had never lived in a sober family before I got married and had kids. I went through life believing everything to be a party, and I thought NOT drinking and partying everyday would be ‘good enough’.

Rarely is someone successful aiming for par.

By becoming a husband and a father, I’ve become a partner in a successful team. We own our own home, our boys are getting the best education we can provide, and we are working our way slowly out of debt, even if our home mortgage is STILL underwater from 2008. Our financial plans for the future are tenuous since I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes in 2016. My body has changed a lot since the auto-immune reaction that causes loss of insulin production started. My body is not in “mint condition”, and my stamina for physical activity has diminished.

My wife, being an ICU nurse who specializes in pediatric CRRT, doesn’t work a set schedule, and she works 12 hour night shifts. A long time ago I figured out the best way for me to do something I would enjoy and be a contributor to the family. After my job as a “housewife”, I would need to start my own business so I could have the flexibility her schedule would require. I planned on going back to school and learning how to install residential solar and wind electricity production and tap into an untouched market here in KC. Energy independence is a must for everybody for many reasons. I am passionate about that.

But now… I just had my 39th birthday yesterday, and my body feels like it’s almost 60. Knees are stiff, back is sore, I am sensitive to heat, and my skin is more sensitive. Appearantly type 1 diabetes gives you the odd superhero ability to feel a piece of dog hair anytime it gets between your cloths and your skin…

After dealing with the horrifying reality that my body is no longer compatible with life on this planet, I realize I will continue to live. Mary Tyler Moore was 80 when she died. So long as I constantly think about my insulin, I will live. What I can do, physically, has changed. I am less productive in general because of the hormonal and chemical differences due to lack of beta cells. And the amount of time I must now dedicate to self maintenance limits what I can accomplish in my spare time. But I know I can still contribute!

I will not continue to fight for this campaign if I am convinced I am wrong. I do not want to waste my time fighting for a flawed idea that is not what people want. That is insanity. I have little time to waste chasing fairies, when I could be using my talents to do what’s necessary for my family. But if I am correct, I am doing what is necessary for my family RIGHT NOW. And what’s necessary for every family in this country. And if I am correct, and everyone starts to hear what I have to say, and begins the process of debate…

I believe I am justified because it is the best idea, not because it is MY idea. I only ask that it be allowed a full and open discussion. Let the chips fall where they may.

JC

 

 

“A Scout is Trustworthy”

Have you ever built a fire by rubbing two sticks together? Either by rubbing one on top of the other or using a bow and string method. If you’re not experienced at doing it, to an observer, it looks like a person is just doing a lot of sweating! Keeping the friction going long enough to get that first bit of smoke… it’s exhausting. I’ve done it a handful of times. Now that I think about it, each time was in the middle of summer, in Kansas. That’s probably why I remember a lot of sweating involved. Once, so focused at getting it lit, bent over, constant rubbing, and see the first whiff rise, I lean in to see and… Sweat from the tip of my nose drips into the glowing amber and POOF, gone. Grrr…..

That intense feeling as the smoke starts to rise is how I feel right now. I feel like I am sitting in a dry field, in July, where the heat feels like an oven door opening as you walk around, and I am rubbing two sticks together. It’s starting to smoke. Just a bit. I MIGHT be able to make it catch.

I’ve never had “political motivations”. I had considered doing it later in life. Mitt Romney’s father was said to advise people not to go into public service until they become financially secure. In a way it makes sense, help avoid temptation. Like giving something back to the system that helped you achieve so much.

I realized yesterday why I am so motivated to see this campaign be successful now- I dance with death on a daily basis. No… not exaggerating. Being type one diabetic puts me in a unique position where, if my blood sugar levels drop, I start to feel faint and I see ‘spots’. THEN I get to eat massive amounts of chocolate! DOCTORS ORDERS! I eat more chocolate now after diagnosis than I did when I was a kid! It’s great! My dentist doesn’t like it, but…

T1reaper

The perspective gained from, not just knowing someday I won’t be around anymore, but FEELING like I’m not gonna be around much longer! It’s a clarifying motivator. The last couple years has shown me that I have the power to do whatever I chose. I have the choice. Whatever it is, it begins with a choice. IF I chose to do nothing, then I will die. And if I apply that mentality to life in general, then I should be able to do the impossible.

That’s really what I’m doing everyday. If I want to keep going, I have no choice. I better make the most of my abilities while I have the chance… That’s all. I’m not sure I had a point. Hmmm… I think my blood sugar is low.

Keep your head UP!!

JC