TASK #7

February 11th--February 18th

Tempered Steel

No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched.   George Jean Nathan

Anger. Pure, unadulterated male anger. It's one of the traits of men that I can't defend, nor totally comprehend. It's not that I'm immune. On the contrary--I have a terrible temper. I have flipped off people on the freeway, baited people at dinner parties, chased my dog with the intention of shoving my foot up its ass, pounded conference room tables, fought in jealous rages.  

Road rage was my speciality. One day a guy cut me off at an intersection. I went eye-bugging crazy. I followed him for a few streets, then jumped out of my car and knocked on his window. He got out and punched me in the face. I end up flat on the street. He drove away.

I had to stop it. I had to find some control. i didn't wan't to make a mistake that would haunt me the rest of my life. Here's what I did:

TASK:

First, get a newspaper every day this week. Scour it for stories about violence. Violence caused by virulent anger. If you live in a small town then get on-line and check out the L.A. Times or the N.Y. Post. There's plenty of violent crime in those cities. Read the articles. Cut them out. Glue them in your notebook. 

Try to put yourself into the place of the victim. 

Second, write down every angry impulse you have this week. Every one, even if it's small--like the anger that seeps up the back of your spine when you through the drive-thru and you order a Big Mac Meal and you drive away and look in the bag and you realize the bone-head at the window gave you a fish sandwich. And forgot the fries. 

If you have any comments, feel free to e-mail me at joedoebula@gmail.com 

TASK #8

February 18th--February 25th

On a Wing and a Prayer

Under certain circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.  Mark Twain

Despite the pomp and theatrics, despite the fervor and misguided fanaticism, despite the radical fringes of organized religions, I tend to believe that religions are good, or at least in their intentions, and that people who practice a religion are well meant. (Excluding those who proselytize, like Marco Rubio and Rick Santorum, who are so Catholic they make the Pope look like a Lutheran. 

And I believe that the core tenets of all the world's major religions: Islam, Catholicism, Hinduism, Buddhism and so on, all teach and encourage simple, common sense values, like honesty, fair play, and it seems like most of them, especially the Christian religions, set out pretty simple rules to follow, like "thou shalt not kill", and "thou shalt not covet they neighbor's wife", which is a good one to remember if your neighbor' wife likes to parade around in a thong. 

But I digress. The point is: there is something inherently good in believing in a higher power. In a world a constantly shifting sand, it's good to have moral ground to stand on. 

At the same time I have to confess that I'm not much for church. I'd rather sit out in the sun and watch the world pass me by. And sometimes, when my mind slips from the shackles of my everyday worries, I think about my friends and my family, or those random people from my distant past, and I'll find myself hoping, in my heart of hearts, that good fortune finds them. 

I call that praying. It's not reciting words from a missal, or reading words that you've memorized from a book, nor is it begging: i.e. for the Buckeyes to beat Michigan, or that the next symbol on the slot machine is a bell; and it's not asking for mercy after you've f--ed up, which is a plead, not a prayer.  

Praying is asking for good fortune for someone else. Someone who may need some good fortune in their life. 

TASK:

This week you are going to open your notebook and write a prayer. You don't have to invoke any particular deity, it doesn't have to rhyme or be recited with your hands folded; it simply has to ask for something good to happen to someone you know who deserves to have something good happen to them.

I asked for good fortune to befall a certain man, his name is Dave, who is the most selfless individual I have ever met. 

Now it's your turn.

If you have a comment, feel free to write me at joedoebula@gmail.com

TASK #9 

February 25th--March 4th

The Fortunate Son

Everything hurts.  Michelangelo Antonioni

Your life is crummy? Runnin' short of luck? Your job blows? Credit card maxed-out? Your woman leave you for a mall masseuse? You sick and tired of being sick and tired? 

You team lost? You feel fat? Your car acting up? The tax man breathing down your neck? 

Life can really blow. It can just suck the joy out of living. But guess what, dude. As bad as it is, and much as it sucks, you have it better than someone else. 

And you're going to see it in person. 

TASK:

This week you are going to look in on some men who have it worse than you. You HAVE to volunteer, or at least visit, one of the following locations:

1) The waiting area of the emergency room. Go to the nearest big city. Find the emergency room waiting area. Sit down for four hours. You'll see the flotsam and jetsam of humanity roll in and out like the tide. 

2) Homeless shelter. Shelter is a basic human need. Many men don't have it, so they go to homeless shelters. Go to one and help out or just sit and watch. 

3) County homes. Fun places where aging men without means, or family, or both are institutionalized. 

4) School for the mentally challenged. Is it blissful not to know that you're one of the disenfranchised? I don't think so.

5) Orphanage or foster home. 

6) Or drunk tank, or skid row, or mental health institute. You make the call.

Then come home and write about it.

If you have any comments or questions, e-mail me at joedobula@gmail.com 

TASK #10

March 4th--March 11th

U Pick 'Em

Everything has been figured out, except how to live.   Jean-Paul Sartre

I love March because I love March Madness. I love the brackets because it forces me to make decisions. I mean, you can equivocate, procrastinate and undulate all year, but come tournament time, you have to make decisions. 

I decided to come up with a bracket of my own. It was supposed to help me decide what to do with my free time. The winning activity surprised me. 

You try it. When you get done write about the activity you chose, and why it's more important to you than the others.

TASK:

     Good Luck! Questions?: E-mail me at Joedoebula@gmail.com

TASK #11

March 11th--March 18th

Clean Living

Cleaning anything involves making something else dirty, but anything can get dirty without something else getting clean.   Lawrence J. Peter

I don't necessarily agree that cleanliness is next to Godliness--I think a good orgasm is next Godliness, but cleanliness is close, and it is a sign of maturity, responsibility and self-discipline. We don't control much in this world, but we can control the space we occupy, and we should do so with great care.

TASK:

You are going to clean your home this week. YOU means ALL of you, whether you live in a studio apartment or a 30 room mansion. If you're fortunate enough to employ a housekeeper, give her the week off. 

And I don't mean "once over lightly". I mean you're going to clean like a cleaning lady. Your going to attack every room in your abode with vigor--as though every speck of dirt, every invisible microbe is your personal enemy.

Get yourself some soap, water, rags, all-purpose liquid cleaning solution (I like it lemon-flavored), some glass cleaner, toilet bowl cleanser, etc. 

Start with the floor. Broom it, swiffer it, mop it. Do the baseboards, the walls, the cabinets, the sinks, the mirrors, the windows. Get a broom up in the corners where the spiders live. Wipe off the lightbulbs. 

Clean out the fridge. Shake out the drapes, dust the picture frames, and get busy on that toilet. 

And wash your sheets. 

Be humble about it. Be thorough. And when you're done, revel in it. Write about your triumph. 

Any questions or comments? E-mail me at joedoebula@gmail.com

TASK #12

March 18th--March 25th

Mentor, Mensch

McCabe's Law: Nobody HAS anything to do with ANYTHING. Charles McCabe

A MENSCH, dictionary-wise, is person having admirable characteristics, such as fortitude and firmness of purpose. A person of fundamental decency. A MENTOR is described as a sponsor or supporter. I don't like either of these definitions. Here's what a mentor and a mensch are in the real world.

A mensch is a stand-up guy. A guy you'd trust with your wife, or your sister. A mensch will bail you out of jail, back you up in a bar fight, commiserate with you when your girlfriend runs off with your tax guy, and a mensch will co-sign a loan, or a lease. Most importantly, a mensch will NEVER ask for anything in return. 

A mentor is a guy who takes the time to show you how to do something that you want to do, but don't know how to do it. It's usually an older guy, but not always.

I had a mensch in my life. His name is Dave. He stood by me and my family. He did something for us that was selfless, and he did it because it had to be done. When I thank him, which is often and profusely, he shrugs...

I had a mentor in my life as well. A guy who helped my get ahead in my career when I was young and dumb. I went to work in an office that was a real shark tank. I nearly got myself fired on day #1.  The reason I survived was due to the patience and selflessness of my boss, who would sit with me late into the evening and gently guide me.  It must have been a trial for him--I was so full of crap--but he listened and smiled. 

TASK:

Be a Mensch! Is there someone who needs your help? Someone who needs a loan? Someone you can help get a job? Someone who needs a ride to work? Someone who is reaching out for something and you know you can help but you've just ignored it? Help someone out! Be a mensch!

Be a Mentor: Look around--is there someone at work who is bright but clueless? Someone at church who looks a bit lost? Take someone under your wing--be a mentor!

If you have any questions or comments, e-mail me at joedoebula@gmail.com

TASK #13

March 25th--April 1st

Tear It Up

A clear conscience is often the sign of a bad memory.  Unknown


We all have pictures. Pictures of ourselves: i.e. school photos, shockingly ugly driver's license photos, i.d. badges, etc., and pictures with family, girlfriends, and random friends. 

We tend to hold onto photos. Tenaciously. Even the photos that dredge up unwanted memories of people and moments of our lives that we want to forget.

What is it about photos?

I couldn't bring myself to throw out a photo because my mother told me, more than once, that if the house burnt down we could replace anything EXCEPT our photographs. 

Fine, but why save photos of people you hate? Or pictures that involuntarily dredge up bad memories? 

I looked through a box of old photos. For 20 years I have kept a picture of a woman who dumped me with casual contempt because she'd tired of me. Only she didn't tell me that she was tired of me until she'd already hooked up with the other guy. 

I stared at the photo for a while. Then I crumpled it up and threw it into the trash. Right behind it went a picture of myself sporting a horrible mullet, then a picture of a guy who dated my mom after my dad died. The guy who dated my mom was an awful shit. And I pitched a picture of me being helped to my car by two co-workers. I was drunk and they were being nice but I horribly embarrassed myself that night.


TASK: 

Dig into your pictures. All of them. On your computer, in the cloud and the ones thrown into a shoebox. 

Select 5 (five) that you need to throw away. Write down a short description of each in your notebook and describe why they need to go. Get rid of them. Completely. 

If you want to tell me about the pictures you chose, write me at joedoebula@gmail.com