Tag: pizzas

Renovating The Mind

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Depending on how we live life it can appear that our existence is just one long series of bubbles. I’ve left my previous bubble in other words and found myself in a new one. I say too about how we live our life because for some they only ever experience one bubble. I don’t suggest that is a good or a bad thing, it is just another experience. The two versions of experience can allow us to put differing importance upon a variety of things. For the last ten months I have been working in a bakery making pizzas, driving vans and doing some renovations. In that time I existed in a little village by the sea. It was very difficult not to get caught up in all the little drama that involved and I both thrived on it and was broken by it. Now I’ve followed a familiar path I know and moved on. I’m in Greece living in a boatyard with the intention of doing some work on a boat. Shall we say renovations in a different form, of boat and mind. My bubble is changing and evolving into something else. I am rediscovering different types of importance.

As I look back on these previous months I realise how much I got caught up in an entire world of small things. That isn’t to say they weren’t important because clearly they were at the time. Some I wish in hindsight I hadn’t got so involved in or reacted to in the ways I did, but all it shows is how easily we can get lost in the worlds we inhabit. In a way it could be argued as a good thing, was this an example of me living in the moment. The intensity of the bubble representing how present I was. In truth I know I wasn’t that present as I spent large chunks of the time fantasising about being anywhere else. But that didn’t stop me putting value on what I was experiencing. Now having left and with the time to step back from it all it seems so unimportant. All the things that caused anger, stress and anxiety. What were they for, what was their point and why did I allow them to engulf me.

This is one reason I enjoy moving so much as it allows me to be able to observe things in at least a physically detached way. Mentally I am still not objective but I can see now having left that the fears and stresses were not important, at least not in the way they felt at the time. This detachment then allows for perspective. As I said it isn’t to entirely devalue these moments but perhaps it’s about being able to better understand our own reactions in them. I was thinking recently that surely old people should fear nothing having experienced so much and survived it all. Evidence suggests otherwise but theoretically I like this idea. It fits then with the one that this chapter I have just stepped out of was challenging but I survived it. Maybe not intact but I survived it still. Any damage can be understood, resolved and released, used as experience if and when similar arises in the future.

I know this is entirely about me but my intention is to use my experience and hopefully help another understand their own. We’re never as unique as we like to think we are and simply see, understand and experience moments in our own ways. I take from others my own version of their version and someone else will do the same of mine, relating it in a way that they can understand and learn from. Is understanding and learning not the whole point. Everything else is just a tool for that end surely. One more thing to help us unlock the key to step from one bubble to the next. Another brick in the development of understanding.

On The Road Again

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“See it. Say it. Sorted” says a message on the loud speaker after telling passengers to report anything suspicious. Don’t get me wrong there have been situations involving public transport in the past but the constant need to remind people of the fear they should be in, the potential that there could always be something to look out for, makes me far uneasier than any possible – I’m assuming terrorist – danger does.

I just missed my mouth slightly and spilt beer on my face mask. We can add that to the drawbacks list. I’ve never quite understood why when drinking alcohol is illegal in outdoor public places, on buses, even as a passenger in cars apparently; it is perfectly fine to drink on a train. I can only assume it has something to do with them being able to sell alcohol themselves and it being impossible to regulate train beer from carry on beer. Maybe it’s just a throwback to dining carts. I’m not complaining. Few countries in the world seem to allow such things and I see it as a genuine positive of what is already probably my favourite form of transport. I’ll take a bus if I have to, I’ll avoid the train if it’s too expensive and I’ll take the plane if it makes more practical sense but there’s still something I enjoy about a train that I’m yet to put my finger on entirely. Comfortable, fast, easy, goes through scenic areas. Maybe I should go on one of those long train journeys like the Trans-Siberian or across America, the Andes, Australia and anywhere else that begins with ‘A’.

Despite spending the last few months delivering bread and working in a bakery and pizza shop I seem a little more nervous about this virus though. The little Northumberland seaside village and the Scottish countryside of my parents feels like a little bubble I’ve stepped out of. I’ve gone south where bad things happen. I’m now in the real world. A world with dangers.

I can still only smell beer. This is going to make me paranoid. Is it me, do I stink of beer or is it simply a drop on my mask leading to a false reading. I’m not sure if I can spend the next twelve hours breathing beer fumes.

I’m on the move again then. Off to Greece. I’ve mentioned it previously but I doubt anyone reads every post every day so this is me informing you all I’m off to Greece. I had a short break in Dublin over Christmas but it does feel like I’ve not been abroad for a year now. This virus really has made us change our way of existing. I’m a little nervous actually and I’m curious how I’ll feel about it. I have a habit of wishing for the sedentary life when I travel a little too much and the travelling life when I’m in one spot for too long. Considering it has been a long time since Christmas and an even longer time since my last adventure, the wishing became a slight insanity.

It can be hard to leave though. We become comfortable and after all these years I do wonder if maybe I am getting a little old for all this. Ten years ago I did meet people in their thirties just starting out so perhaps age has little to do with it. We just experience things in a different way. I do find it harder to leave my parents each time though, especially now in this present virus related fear period. I don’t give a shit about potentially suspicious packages, I give a shit about my loved ones coming into contact with a deadly virus. Leaving them at the train station questioning whether it will be the last time I’ll see them but knowing I have to leave regardless. The truth is, life goes on. The whole world ground to a halt for a few months once already and now we just have to get on with it. It is easy to blame the economy and capitalism but it’s human nature. We can’t stand still. Sometimes it’s not always easy though.

Another End For Another Beginning

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After nearly five months of tears, tantrums and a few satisfied pizza lovers, the day has finally come. I can be quite a sentimental person. I enjoy ending things because more often than not it means I’m about to start something new but it doesn’t mean I don’t experience at least a pang of sadness at the letting go of something. I couple of regulars made a point of ordering tonight which was appreciated. Unfortunately I didn’t repay the compliment by being over an hour late for one and forgetting to put extra mushrooms on his pizza. I’m sure he’ll forgive me. I’ll find out at Easter if we open then. We’re probably going to be the annoying company which only bothers to open in the really busy and good times. That will drive everyone else nuts. There’s a part of me that takes pleasure in that although I’m certain I would hate it if it was the other way round. All is open though, who knows what I’ll be doing and where next Easter. I may have even finished this by then.

There have been many lesson over these five months and certainly the stress I used to experience in the early days doesn’t seem to be such a thing anymore. Stress is probably not how I would describe in entirely, of course my friends would, but I would suggest there was a bit more anger involved as that ambled about without any sense of urgency. There was definitely something of the Gordon Ramsay about me. Now I just get on with it, if I’m late I’m late and if I’m on time I’m on time. Well more or less. Also in five months, let’s be honest you just get better at things.

It seems longer than five months. We are Lockdown Pizzas because we were born in lockdown. Cheesy bastard. Early April to be precise. Time must have been going slow these last few months then. We only started making them for some fun, everywhere else was closed and we had all the ovens with the bakery. We dreamt of making a thousand pound a night minimum as people would be desperate for something tasty in lockdown. We never made that of course but we did scare all the other takeaways into re-opening. What began as a few weeks of fun became a five month old trip. It was a crash course. Thankfully not a car crash.

And now we call time. As was always going to be and as could only be. It has been emotional. It has been intense. Goodnight sweet pizzas. Good morning something else.

The AWOL Mind

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If we were using weather to describe mood, this last week would have just about summed it up perfectly. As the storms arrived I went down a rabbit hole. I’m not one for describing how I feel online. Generally exposing myself like that is not always something that comes easily to me and in truth there are times I pour scorn on people who share their mood in social media posts. I should probably stop being so unfair on people crying out for help in such moments of desperation, it likely does nothing more than expose my own ignorance of mental health issues.

This has been an intense year. That is probably an understatement. In a way I am happy about how it has turned out, I took advantage of the new version of existence that came along. There are some things I would have liked to have done more of such as learning how to code but with all the work and the need to rest and procrastinate, I just ran out of time. Maybe less procrastination, or more efficiency with it. Can you efficiently procrastinate?

I always knew I would move on from here and I am fine with that because I have moved on from many places, I never saw this stop as a final one and it has already been about six months longer than had been planned. With lockdown any need to achieve or succeed, or create something or make money or do something or whatever self-induced pressures I put on myself evaporated. I had no choice but to stay in one spot and work with what I had. with options come pressures. I loved it and in a way I carried this on. However as it came time to wrap up this chapter I realised I had to step back out into this world and all the old fears and irrationalities, and ultimately all the stupid bullshit returned. For nearly two months now I have been working everyday on the pizzas and delivering bread three sometimes four mornings a week. You don’t sleep much in these circumstances and this simply exacerbates things. Throw in the fact me and my friend have a rather tempestuous relationship, it all seemed to come to a head this week.

If I were to say I lost my mind I would not be exagerating. I started to believe everyone was working against me, that they were trying to sabotage me. At one point one of the guys came down from the bakery to pick up some oven gloves from the cafe as they had run out up there. I wasn’t about and he took the best two pairs. In my mind he did this because it was all part of pushing me out. Looking back now it is almost comical but in that moment it was entirely serious. My body was tensing up, my neck still hurts and I was getting headaches. I have worked many seasonal jobs in the past which have been everyday for extended periods but they’ve rarely involved the mental stress of running things or maintaining personal relationships within the whole daily operation. It’s safe to say I now know my limits.

It’s also safe to say now the winds only signify change and the movement into something new. My friend suggested we stop the pizzas on Monday instead of continuing for two more weeks as originally planned. At first I took it in the same stride of paranoid lunacy I had previously been experiencing and planned on having it out with him when I next saw him. In the end with that being about two days later it was just a chat between two people who had been mates since they were eight years old. In that time I had already started to calm down but he had seen how much I needed a rest and he was right to suggest we stop. I’m grateful for him pulling me out of the rabbit hole because I doubt I would have been able to do it on my own without doing something overly dramatic and ridiculous.

Life is full of pressures. Some pushed upon us but many entirely of our own making. When we look in from the outside we can rationally understand were things need to change. If it is ourselves though, when it’s our own minds which seem to have gone AWOL being able to make sense of things can almost be an impossible act. It is time mentally for some recuperation. With the awakening of my senses this is already underway. The pressures are off and I can breath again. We rest, we recover, we take a step followed by another and we get on with it. We get on with what comes next. Something always comes next, how you experience it is up to you.

A Night Ramble

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Well the summer is coming to an end and I fancy a little ramble in nature somewhere. I have been trying to think of something to write tonight, nothing has taken my fancy to be horrified by in the news. I was horrified by someone I know being morally outraged on his Facebook wall by someone else with an admittedly unsavoury opinion leaving his ideas in the comments section of a post. The moral irony was missed as he screen shot the comment, told everyone to share it and revealed he had already spoken to this bad mans employers. These are the moments you realise the baying mob should stop believing in their own hype. We are going to finish the pizzas at the end of this bank holiday weekend. The kids go back to school and the tourists disappear from the village. I’ll have a couple of weeks to sort some things out and rest. I’ve already booked my tickets to go to Greece in the middle of September. Don’t worry you’ll hear all about it when it’s happening.

I wonder what it’s going to be like going abroad again. I mentioned in an early post back in November or December I think about how many flights I took last year. Spain a few times, Ireland, Sweden, Greece, Sardinia – actually maybe not Greece, I can’t remember – but my carbon footprint must have been horrendous. The amount of meat I would have to stop eating just to bring balance. I’m not quite sure that’s how it works though. I’ve made up for it this year. Zero flights so far and I’ve barely left the village. Covid has been good for my carbon karma. I’ll make up for it next year don’t you worry. It is good to take a break though, change some habits. I mentioned previously how I have been looking back, not nostalgically but almost remembering and experiencing certain elements once more. It brought a contentment and allowed a certain re-evaluation of certain ideas I had. Who I am. Such a cliche. In many ways this year has not always been easy but it has been incredibly beneficial. I doubt I’m alone in thinking this and I doubt I’m alone in thinking I am a different person now to pre-lockdown me. Total cliche. The talk is of the world and society being different permanently but the idea that individual people may have taken the time to understand themselves a little more without the pressures of normality. What a wonderful experience all round. Time with the family. Time with yourself.

But now that is all in the past apparently. A friend of the unbelieving nature suggested a new Europe-wide lockdown has been planned for the 18th of September and he used a random article in a random newspaper to prove it. I suspect that date may pass without incidence. It doesn’t mean winter won’t bring a spike though but can you imagine going through all that again in a miserable British winter. Fuck that. The British people are not mentally strong enough for that. And deary me I just remembered a no-deal Brexit will be happening then too. That’s probably a good time to stop this little ramble. It’s not quite nature but it’s the best I can get this late in the day. There’s no need to even go anywhere near that little rabbit hole of a shit show. Good night.

A Night In The Life Of Lockdown Pizzas

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Kick off is at five and I can see people outside at the door trying to get in. I used to have it closed but unlocked in the half hour before I began and as I did my prep but it soon became evident that people were keen on disturbing me in search of cake, pies and bread. As I’m more concerned with wanting to do my prep than help them not wait half an hour, the door is now locked. I avoid their pleading, desperate and starved eyes. I chop tomatoes. I realise everything else is still plentiful from last night. Pizza base count – only twenty. It’s Wednesday, twenty is probably enough. Prep done. Time to make eye contact and make the shrugged sorry shoulder gesture, spin my hand with pointed finger to signify the turning of something – in this instance time – and hold up five fingers for five o’clock. I wonder if they’ll come back in five minutes instead.

First person through the door decides to make a bad joke about getting a receipt just to check I didn’t put £300 through instead of £3 before waiting uncomfortably for the receipt. I decide not to put her out of her misery and tell her there’s a £45 contactless limit. It’s not because shes distrustful she wants me to know as she laughs nervously. I realised I haven’t cut any mushrooms and don’t have many pizza bases pre-passatered, perhaps starring at hungry customers trapped outside was not the best use of my time. I’m starting to feel a little heartburn from the sliver of walnut cake I just had, working in a bakery is not good for my health. First pizza takeaway sale and it’s two double cheeseburgers. I was vegan once.

My mate has just turned up with some official Lockdown Pizzas merchandise. It’s only taken four months and we close in less than three weeks but I’m now proudly sporting a red T-shirt with Lockdown Pizzas in black on the back and a black hoody with the same on the back but in red. They’ve put a space in Lock down but at least it’s spelt right. This might not be a co-operative or upholding any of the ideals I like to still believe I hold but it’s always good to be sporting the red and black. The fact these colours hide most of the likely ingredients I’ll cover myself in is simply a bonus.

…

That didn’t quite go to plan. I was hoping to have time to write a quick paragraph of each hour but the night turned out pretty busy and as it’s just me heroically working away, I barely got a chance to think let alone write anything. I’m sure there were all sorts of witty observations all throughout the night but they’re now lost in the ether of nothingness and non-existence. Unless time isn’t linear of course which would mean they’re happening now and always, both of which concepts wouldn’t exist either surely. I digress.

I messed up two orders tonight. One I realised I had done so as I put the pizzas in the boxes, vocalising my realisation as it came to me with an “Oh fuck” which was followed by me looking at the man and his asking quite intuitively whether I had forgotten the chips. He was fine about it, he could see how busy I was. The other time was right at the end I was probably about fifteen minutes late but they were fine about it too as they could also see how busy I was. People can be alright sometimes. It’s quite refreshing for this not to be a piece complaining about or making fun of customers as would be expected. Coincidentally with tonight being a night I attempted a running commentary, we actually sold out for the first time. Usually I have loads of bases in reserve but a mixture of me being slow to remind the guy in the bakery who makes them and him being slow to make them meant tonight was a special night. Amusingly the only person I had to turn away though was the actual guy who makes the bases as he thought he would pop in for one on his break. He says he’ll make one hundred for me tomorrow.

We have less than three weeks left and it will be the end of this little experiment. I’m alway keen on trying new things and now that I have a tshirt, hoody and scooter – which was only ever used a handful of times – I’ll probably have to come back next year and do it again. Saying that, this holiday I’m planning can’t come soon enough. There will be a lot of sleeping.

One Moment, Four Eyes

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There is a saying out there in the ether that goes along the lines of ‘no two people experience a moment the same way’. At about ten o’clock this morning I scribbled down ‘narrative confirming events & narratives to mould events’. Unfortunately the precise meaning of that seems to have slipped my mind in the time between but it was undoubtedly wise in one way or another. At this time I had just finished delivering bread having got up to do so about seven hours earlier and after three hours sleep having finished making pizzas late the night before. When people sleep this little, and what appears to be quite regularly these days, they have a habit of being a little grumpy and irrational. This morning was one of those days.

I can’t remember exactly what I meant but I think it had something to do with one of the people I was delivering to asking the annoying “Have you done this?” Have you done that?” despite the fact I always do this and that, and haven’t not once. I gave a pretty straight “Yes, no and I will” but really I wanted to let her know I didn’t appreciate her accusing me of not knowing how to do my relatively easy and straightforward job. Had I not been so tired and grumpy I suspect I wouldn’t have even noticed it as an issue but the mind can play tricks on you when it’s stretched.

This then was one version of an experience. Later as I drove away I mumbled to myself how she was rude and probably an idiot. This is most likely unfair and I suspect this is the case because I attempted to look at it from another perspective. Namely, hers. I remember when I was attempting to make a little sense of the world in my twenties I discovered the concept of compassion. To be able to experience compassion, one technique is to put yourself in the other persons position and view the event through their eyes. Maybe this is giving her an excuse and she was just being rude but perhaps there was a reason she was being so specific and direct with these questions. It is possible the other drivers haven’t always done these things requested but there is every chance she has been told by her boss to make sure of this and that, and she is stressing them to me because she knows she’ll get grief if they’re not done. Whether this is simply me giving her an excuse and letting her off I will never know. Also, she may have not even been that rude and I was just overreacting in my mind. Really though I don’t need to know because it doesn’t matter. The moment I thought that this may be a reason for her attitude my own anger towards her dissipated and I felt what can only be described as compassion. I had let go and the chain of negative emotions had been broken.

This was one moment and those were two ways to experience it. How narratives come into it is arguably less clear but most likely had something to do with allowing the idea that everyone and everything was out to annoy me. This shaped how I felt the situation unfolded and how I viewed it. It could be a good idea to write down a few notes alongside the main note for understanding purposes but one step at a time. I’ve been writing this blog so long and I can count the amount of times I’ve written notes like that on one hand. Still, there was something in there worth writing about I’m sure. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and try to spot a more suitable example for next time.

To Endure The Discipline

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There are probably a few things wrong with this blog. Firstly it’s a blog and I know blogs are not always viewed upon in the most appreciated of lights, I assume this is because of the potential for a little self-indulgence and self-aggrandising. I don’t dismiss that, and while I try to avoid doing this I know I am probably guilty sometimes, especially the self-indulgence. The fact I write from the first perspective quite often probably doesn’t help. There is something else about this particular blog though I know definitely doesn’t lead to ease of anything.

Because I write every single day, there are numerous days in which I force myself to find both the energy and the subject matter to write about. I doubt anyone has read every piece I have written, I wouldn’t blame you for not as there have been a lot and I know I wouldn’t have kept up were it someone else’s project. One thing that is clear though if you have read a few is that there are a lot of pieces in which I have written just about anything to complete the task of writing something every day. Not that that isn’t a problem because ultimately the first and really only priority was to write each and every day, after that writing well and about interesting things could only ever be a secondary. I don’t doubt there have been days in which I can be proud of both my writing and the content but there are too some which are quite the opposite.

It turns out it’s quite difficult to write something on a daily basis and I’m impressed that some professionals manage it so proficiently when they do. Admittedly being professionals they make the time but still it is an achievement I am recognising more as this year has progressed. I struggle because not being a professional writer means I have to be a professional something else and for me that is making pizzas in the evening and delivering bread in the early morning. I wasn’t expecting to drive tomorrow but events have allowed such a scenario to happen, so having finished pizzas I know I need to be awake in about four hours. When you throw in the lack of desire to talk politics, the lack of brain energy to talk philosophy not that I do on here very often despite my original desire to do so, and really a lack of desire to talk about anything, I find myself writing pieces like this. Now this could appeal to the people who write about writing blogs, and what I am doing is a great experiment in blog writing I’m sure, but it’s not the kind of thing that would garner great attention and back slaps.

I would love to pretend I am above back slaps but let’s be honest if I’m willing to publish this every day it’s not just because doing this publicly helps force the discipline to continue. We all love being told we’re doing something well etcetera etcetera. I have mentioned before that when the year is up I’ll perhaps write one or two pieces a week but hopefully make them really interesting and thought out. In a way that is even more challenging in a disciplined sense and also sometimes I feel my best pieces come out in those late at night forced moments. It’s strange like that. Writing this has so far been a very interesting experience and I know I’ll elaborate more as the days tick down towards the full year. Thankfully though that is more than enough of a piece for tonight and I hope someone somewhere managed to appreciate just slightly the insight into the life of someone who is enduring a blog. Enduring sounds perfect as my eyes begin to close.

Burnt Horticulturalism

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Today then is a little horticultural update. An update on my failed venture into horticulturalism to be precise. Interestingly enough too on a side note, horticulturalism doesn’t appear to be a word which surprises me. If a horticulturalist is someone who practices or is learning gardening and plant management lets say, then if they believe in the theory of gardening as some kind of ideology or movement then surely it must be capable of being an ‘ism’. Surely horticulturalism could be a theoretical approach to fighting the slide into a climate catastrophe, a belief that gardening could save the world perhaps. It’s probably not a far fetched as it sounds depending how it’s worded.

I decided to use the power of the internet and there are suggestions it might just be a word. According to dictionary.com there is no such word but wiktionary.org – I know anything beginning with wik should be immediately dismissed but humour me – suggests it is a synonym of horticulturism, which dictionary.com also suggests isn’t a word, not that dictionary.com is necessarily the most respected of dictionary sources, and that it means ‘a small scale agricultural lifestyle’ which sounds about right. Interestingly apparently in psychology it is ‘the idea that people do not need explicit instruction from others in order to develop cognition, but can be nurtured to develop cognition individually’, in other words they can develop cognition in the same way a plant can grow or garden can develop.

I seem to have digressed massively to the point that this entire piece has little to do with the failed attempt at nurturing a few plants I was originally going to share. I have one chilli plant, one red skin pepper which is basically a chilli too and an aubergine plant. They were coming along well enough considering they have been living on the inside of a window ledge and not a garden but recently I discovered they had caught plant lice, more commonly known as aphids. These little fuckers multiplied and I could tell my poor babies were suffering to the point something needed to be done. When my rainbow chilli plant travelling companion in Australia got aphids I simply left it on the roof of my car most of the day and the ladybirds did their ravenous job but inside here is different. I read that you can wipe diluted washing up liquid on the leaves but I decided to attempt another method I read about instead. Apparently if you dilute vinegar you can spray it on the plants and the aphids will leave. It turns out all you do is burn the leaves, kill the flowers, weaken your plant and make your room stink of vinegar. As you can see from the picture it has been a resounding failure. I plan tomorrow to offer them up to my mother who has a garden in the countryside and who can hopefully nurture them back to life with the help of the local ladybirds. It is like the plant version of retreating to the countryside to convalesce. They need nursing. They need recovery. This will certainly be used as an example of something profound when this finds it’s way into the future theory of horiculturalism. Step as Marx and Friedman, there’s a new player in town and he’s armed with compost.

Day Ten

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I’m not sure if this is day ten or day eleven of my ten days without the news. For those with no idea what I’m talking about I decided to go ten days without looking at news channels or websites, I generally avoided Facebook except for emails and was left pretty confused and lost whenever anyone mentioned something going on in the world. I semi-accidentally saw a few news headlines over that period but generally avoided most things. The intention had been to avoid the sensationalised twenty-four hours a day news coverage and all the draining exhausting bullshit that goes along with that. I actually lost track of the days, I wasn’t even sure if it had been a week yet until I saw someones Facebook post about Donald Trump commuting his friend Roger Stone’s sentence and realised I really wanted to know what that was about. I haven’t actually found out because I don’t need to read an article to tell me everything that is already obvious.

It did make me want to check the amount of days without news I’ve gone though. So arguably and technically this is day ten if I wrote the piece making the challenge statement on the first of July. That also means I can’t check the news properly until tomorrow. All those little hints that something is going on with masks and shops, that Boris dug himself a hole with care homes yet again and that Jair Bolsonaro has caught coronavirus. This knowledge is all without checking the news once, it’s impossible to avoid everything. I also discovered that VAT on takeaway food is going to be reduced to five percent from twenty, which for someone who makes pizzas as one of his jobs is perhaps the best news I’ve heard all day.

I have enjoyed not knowing what’s going on in the world. It doesn’t create obvious amounts of anxiety in me but I’ve definitely noticed that I feel slightly freer without knowing whatever the latest ill facing the world is. Clearly I have to be realistic, without checking the news I’ve still been drawn to those updates above, amongst other things, which means I’ll never be able to avoid whats going on completely. I don’t see many happy people constantly glued to the world’s events. I doubt it brings out the best in us. We must find balance. The Royal We that is. This isn’t the time for grand statements about future intentions but hopefully I’ll remember this experience if I ever get myself caught up in the stupid bullshit once more. Here’s to liberty, forever more!!