100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #89.

#89: One Hit Wonders.

They rise to the top of the charts, making the bands and songwriters who brought them to life disgustingly rich.

Then those same individuals fail to catch lightning in a bottle twice and vanish.

Without a trace.

And while the money keeps rolling in (hopefully), the stigma of being labelled a one-trick pony has to sting for these artists. (Though I’d be happy to have even one BIG project that defines me.)

But here’s the thing…

Every singer, band, and songwriter toiling away in obscurity would kill (and some actually have) for the chance to break through with that one thing that makes them uber-rich and cements their place in music history. Sure, they may feel like a failure when the harsh truth of their limitations becomes impossible to ignore, but eventually the tides of time will reveal the truth:

Artists with one-hit wonders enjoy the same immortality as The Stones, The Beatles and Cher. Not everyone can be Taylor Swift and that’s fine. Take the Norwegian lads known collectively known as A-ha for example…

Tell any European (especially a Norwegian) that A-ha are one-hit wonders and they’ll threaten to kick your arse.

(Trust me on this.)

These guys scored hit after hit and were massively popular on the other side of the world after “Take On Me” (click the link if you’re unfamiliar with the song and video, though I doubt that’s possible) was released. In North America, however, they’ll always be guys with the high voices, the cool hair and the insanely-clever rotoscope video – and nothing else.

So while they’re not technically one-hit wonders, A-ha is still recognized by Rolling Stone magazine and most North Am music fans as such.

But who cares, right?

The song rocks, the video is wicked cool and whether we admit it or not, we all love it.

Kinda Fun Fact: A-ha’s next single/video after “Take On Me” was “The Sun Always Shines on T.V.” 

(And yes, you’ve never heard of it.)

But it opens with an epilogue to “Take On Me”. The young star-crossed lovers, having survived the ordeal of the events in “Take On Me”, stand gazing into one another’s beautiful eyes in the woods at night. (Little creepy, but okay.)

Suddenly the young man begins physically reverting to his original cartoon form. (Say goodbye to those real boy parts, pal.) The young woman realizes that he cannot remain in her world. Humiliated and in pain, he flees the scene into the distance back to his comic-book world, and she is left behind to return to the world of computer dating and rousing bouts of “Hello, Kitty”.

The camera rises away from our heroine and Hollywood-style closing credits roll: “The End / A Warner Bros. First National Picture”, followed by a television graphic which reads “you are watching channel 3” and the A-ha logo.

Bummer, am I right?

That downer aside, my point remains valid; one-hit wonders have their place in our collective history and their creators should be swelling with pride.

With one exception. “Who Let the Dogs Out” by Baha Men is a crime against humanity – and they still haven’t identified the culprit.

Alas, their love was not meant to last…

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #90

#90: Epic Photo Fails.

I have to admit, this one is going to be hard to hit “Publish” on.

But I intend to own all aspects of my life – especially my mistakes. Even the unintentional ones.

Quick backstory: Years ago during an ill-fated attempt to bring my first book, The Bellman Chronicles, to life I decided it would be a brilliant idea to outfit myself like one of my childhood heroes, Hawkeye Pierce from M*A*S*H*. (Google him, kids.)

As it turns out, my acting ability needed A LOT of polish and I only had the resources to film for one day. To top it off, one particular take captured a slight wardrobe malfunction. (One that fortunately didn’t become as famous as Janet Jackson’s.)

Until now, that is…

But here’s the thing, friends: If we don’t laugh at ourselves and the absurdity of life, it becomes overwhelming and we’ll drown in it. But if we shake our heads and dive headfirst into the joke, it no longer holds any power over us and we can ride the waves to sunny shores.

So that’s what I’m doing.

Sorry you all have to suffer as part of my therapy.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #91

#91: The Weight.

That disastrous first date with the girl of your high school dreams during which you threw up on her, that still haunts you in the dead of night.

Your childhood ambitions of being Elvis, Taylor Swift, or Michael Bublé. (Depending on your age or musical preferences.) Or Tom Cruise or Meryl Streep. (Depending on your gender preferences.)

That eight-month battle to get a raise which ended in abject failure after you were informed that 26¢ increase you got last year that you thought was a cost-of-living thing was your raise.

(Yes, that was an oddly specific example. Shut up.)

Your novel that landed with a thud.

Your crappy childhood.

That freak accident that literally haunts you every day with waves of pain.

Watching one of your best friends slowly turn away until he was ultimately lost forever.

A marriage that disintegrates before imploding altogether.

Whatever traumas you carry every day that weigh your soul down, threatening to drown it in a tsunami of sorrow, just remember: You’re not alone.

The pain we carry with us, whether we acknowledge it or not, defines us. It directs our every action. (Mostly subliminally.)  To quote James Tiberius Kirk:

I don’t want my pain taken away! I need my pain!

So don’t let the weight hold you in place, use it.

Use it to move forward. Use it be stronger and faster than ever before. Acknowledge that the weight has its place in our lives. You may not like it (unless you’re a little twisted) but you need to respect it.

After all, it’s your pain, and only yours.

Own it and be free of it.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #92

#92: The Best Job You’ll Ever Have…

It’s the defining moment of your life – though you really don’t grasp its full gravity at the time.

You’re overcome with joy. Which quickly becomes pride. Which in turn degenerates into trepidation. Which evolves into fear. 

All in the span of a nanosecond. 

And while the fear subsides, it never fades completely. Ever. Even the passage of time makes no difference. Those shifting sands mean nothing in the grand scheme. If anything, they increase the intensity of your challenge.

Oh sure, you tell yourself, “I got this! I have help and I’ve read all the latest theories/hacks/teachings… this is in the bag!” But it’s all bunk.

Sometimes you hold on too damn tight and pay the price. Sometimes you don’t watch as closely as you should and pay the price. There are setbacks on a daily basis and times where you let your spouse or partner take the wheel – if you’re lucky enough to have a spouse or partner, that is. But sooner or later, it becomes your turn, your time to rise or fall. Sometimes literally.

But hopefully not literally.

Though even if you fall, all that matters is that you get back up. Every time. Because let’s face it, there are things you can walk away from, as difficult as it may be. Jobs. Friendships. Dreams. Even marriages.

But there is a role you can never walk away from. A calling that cannot be ignored. And while it will test you like nothing else in life there is a truth that is undeniable – though may try to bury it in many, many ways.

Being a parent will define you in every way that matters. It’s Heaven and Hell simultaneously.

But it’s worth every second.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #93

#93: Another Flavor Of Juice.

He was many things to many people: A superstar on the football field, a father and husband off it, an actor, and to the world, a towering, infamous pop culture figure.

To me, he was a gracious, unbelievably polite hotel guest who tipped well and never refused a single request from anyone, be they a fellow guest or an employee. Seriously, they don’t really make celebrity guests as generous with their time (or cash) as The Juice.

Today, according to his family, cancer claimed him at age the age of 76.

His 1995 trial, and controversial (to say the least) acquittal, for double murder, became one of the world’s most-watched popular culture events of the last century. And let’s face it, he’ll forever be linked to those events as opposed to his filmography and pro football career with 11,236 rushing yards, 2,142 receiving yards and 990 kick return yards, totaling 14,368 all-purpose yards in 135 games. In total, he scored 76 total touchdowns (61 rushing, 14 receiving and one via kick return).

As a nerd those stats mean little to me, but apparently they’re quite impressive.

While I have nothing but respect and compassion for the families of those he was accused of slaying, I can only speak of my own memories of this infamous figure. As for my personal experience with the departed, it centers on his second stay in Niagara Falls many years ago. His first visit brought a great deal of attention, even though it occurred during the off season. Nevertheless, he was besieged with requests for signed footballs, autographs and photos. (And this was long before selfies.)

He acquiesced to every single request without hesitation.

His second stay began on a Friday evening at the peak of the check-in rush. We avoided the crowds and made our way down a hallway that was empty and quiet – until a middle-aged mom from Texas opened her door and greeted him with a smile and casual, friendly conversation. He engaged her with a warm smile and genuine interest in her interest in him. After a few minutes she called back into her room through the door she had held ajar with a suitcase.

“Kids! Come on out here this second!”

But they weren’t budging. Not an inch. Undaunted, he cried out to them…

“Come on out, Kids. It’s all right… I won’t kill ya!”

But even that kind offer wasn’t enough to sway them. Go figure, right?

And so, we left the Texan mom behind and he entered his room, threw himself down on his bed immediately and groaned aloud at the stress a pro football career had inflicted on his knees. I allowed him a moment to literally decompress before speaking.

“You didn’t just say what I think you did, sir?”

(Even though I certainly knew he had indeed engaged in such dark humor.)

“You gotta have fun in this life, Robert. It’s the only way to live.”

A generous gratuity appeared in his massive hands, one I eagerly accepted before taking my leave of him. His words left their impact on me for many reasons; rather than carry the weight of his past like a stone around his neck, he chose to live life to the fullest. Whether that was right or wrong is not for me to say.

Say what you will about this man; he knew how to make an impression.

Some of my fellow hotel staff would have been horrified by the mere act of serving him and would most likely have been uneasy in his presence. But though I’ve had my dark periods in my role, I’ve always strived to see past my guest’s issues and do my job. Period. And honestly, he made it easy.

So I bear him no ill will because I simply put, I have no reason to.

In my job it’s essential to live by the words of Monty Python and always see the bright side of life.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: 94

#94: The Waiting Really Is The Hardest Part…

So I’m currently sitting at my kitchen table, typing away in a manner that would enrage my high school typing teacher.

Then again, she’s dead, so she’s probably more pissed about that than anything else.

Either way, this one is all about waiting. No, not serving tables at a restaurant or even waiting for a table at a restaurant or at Starbucks or any of the dozens of places we all wait every day. I’m referring to the anticipation/anxiety that comes from time before you receive BIG news, good or bad.

After a two month wait (a rush job by today’s standards), my phone appointment with the orthopedic surgeon who replaced my left hip is hours away and quite frankly, I’m not handling it well…

Truthfully, my mind is a maelstrom of fear, self-loathing and a hide podge of various negative emotions. My new left hip is seven degrees out of alignment and that presents a question mark the size of Texas in front of my life, one that cannot be ignored. 

• Will I have to go under the knife again?
• Can a brace rectify this issue?
• Will my lovely bride decide she’s not willing to play home nurse again? (Trust me , it’s not a sexy as  it sounds.)
• Can I continue to be a Bell Captain, a position that sometimes requires jumping headlong into the hospitality fray to assist guests with increasingly-insane amounts of luggage, coolers, food (so much food these days as grocery prices rise) etc.?

How I got there is anyone’s guess. It may have been from work or it nay be due to two separate minor-but-maybe-not-so-minor falls I’ve experienced at home this winter. Either way, my appliance is out of whack and I’m not qualified to know what that means.

This is about the time you’re probably thinking: “Okay, we’re waiting for the upside, Hook. Let’s have it!”

Well… I’m not sure there is one.

My life may change drastically if I can’t escape another hospital procedure. And as for the position I’ve waited twenty years for at work… it’s anyone’s guess how that will play out.

But life is a series of tests designed to test our resolve and ingenuity. What doesn’t kill us, in theory and according to Kelly Clarkson, is supposed to make us better versions of ourselves. And waiting is a big part of that process. I’m using this time to write these words and impart this message, so there’s your upside. Waiting has its place in the fabric of our lives and how we handle it speaks volumes about our character.

As always, make of this post what you will, my friends.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #95

#95: When The Sizzle Appears To Be More Than The Steak.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime (unless you have a fountain of youth in your backyard) celestial event that plunged my hometown of Niagara Falls and and various parts of the world into near total darkness during what should have been a sunny afternoon – and for weeks it certainly was hyped as such.

But now that it’s over, the question remains: 

Was the Totality really “all that”?

Some onlookers were convinced NASA had a plan to fire rockets at the moon. Others believed the brain trust in Switzerland was prepared to conduct an experiment that would doom us all. There were theories that suggested family pets would be adversely effected and that non-domesticated animals were going to go ape. (Yes, I went there.) A Totality hasn’t occurred in Niagara since 1925, and won’t happen again until 2144.

And oh yeah, our mayor declared that one million visitors would descend upon Niagara Falls like locusts that haven’t eaten in years.

Tourists and locals began camping out at various locales throughout the city (especially along the Niagara Parkway that runs right beside the Falls themselves, of course) in the early morning hours, and I have to say, these folks were truly hardcore about their devotion to science and spectacle. Personally, I secured a parking spot for our family car (we call her “Lucy”) and a small tract of land for the humans by at a nifty little gathering spot known as Firemen’s Park by 10:30 am, hours before the 3:18 pm Totality start time.

The only problem? 

It was cold. Damn cold. And cloudy. Damn… well, you get the idea. 

To say weather conditions on this cosmic event were less than ideal would be as much an understatement as to suggest Trump is currently experiencing a few legal hiccups.

Nevertheless, when the moment finally arrived…

It was cool: The daylight retreated and darkness fell across the land. Bizarre: birds didn’t know just what the hell to do, and flew around appropriately. It was unifying: People from all over the globe gasped, cheered, and celebrated as one, ignoring their usual petty resentments, bigotry and ignorance. And it was unforgettable: A sizzling orange spot in the sky that was as dangerous as it was spectacular.

So okay, there was a plan to break a Guinness World Record for the most people dressed as the sun that actually succeeded, thus simultaneously making Niagara cool and cheesy as hell. And yes, the nutjobs were out in full force. And oh yeah, the mayor’s math was a tad off. To say the least.

But though the hype fell short for most of the day, the cosmos delivered – and how.

CliftonHill.com

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #96

#96: Phoning It In.

As you may or may not be aware, I am a Bell Captain at the circus hotel I have labored at for the last 24 years.

Yes. I am actually “Captain Hook”. Shut up.

As such, I have occasion to use my managerial skills to resolve issues my immediate subordinates and other team members face on a daily basis. Case in point one early morning:

THE HOOK: (While approaching two members of the Housekeeping department who were diligently examining a spot on the metal racks that have been installed in the entranceway for visitors to wipe their feet before entering the lobby proper.) What seems to the problem, guys?

(I like to keep things, “cas”, as the young folks say.)

BETTY THE LOBBY ATTENDANT: Some kind of deep red… something… has spilled into the grooves and we can’t get it out! And you know Management… they’re going to have kittens if we can’t get this out!

(Betty takes her job seriously and was quite distressed at the prospect of this unknown substance getting the better of her.)

JEFF THE HOUSEMAN: The scraper won’t budge it and anything we spray in there won’t break it down. It’s sticky and it looks sugary and we can’t even tell what it is, but it’s not blood… for once!

(The modern hospitality landscape is a true jungle, kids.)

At this point, the entranceway began to get a lot of foot traffic with a conference group heading out for the day. So, with an audience watching, I utilized the full extent of my years of experience and managerial skills…

THE HOOK: Just drag a mat over it, guys. And if worse comes to worse… blame somebody else.

Problem… solved.

My audience roared. Jeff and Betty carried out my instructions and were free to move onto other spills and stains, of which there are always an endless supply in a thousand room hotel.

One man’s “lazy” is another’s “brilliant act of leadership”, Readers.

Whatever needs to be done – and I do it well.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #97

#97: Growing Old.

Okay, so bones become brittle, hairlines recede, eyesight weakens, and a million other physical and mental challenges can present themselves…

But so what?

You’ve survived!

Do you know how rare that is – especially in this day and age? Endless varieties of cancer, suicide, viruses, wars, natural disasters, even killer birds in Australia, there are literally a million ways we can meet our maker on any given day.

So take the win, you’ve earned it.

But don’t feel too bad. Personally, I’ve never felt my age until recently. Now, after a broken hip and several personal and professional setbacks, I’ve been looking back with painful longing at my teens, my twenties, my thirties, even my forties…

Daaaamn, I’m old!

But so what?

I’m still here. My new hip’s out of alignment but it hasn’t slowed me down. (Much.) My hairline’s a thing of the past and I haven’t exactly hit the personal and professional marks I envisioned as a young man, but from where I’m standing my life is nothing to be ashamed of.

So congratulations to those of us that have survived the rigors of time and life in general. Take a moment and savor the feeling of the sun on your face, the rain on your skin. We’re all winners, kids.

Your story’s far from over.

100 Reasons Life Ain’t So Bad: #98

#98: An Overpriced Beverage.

I’m the first to admit, life’s been a bit bumpy these days – sort of like taking a voyage on the Titanic if it were sailing across a sea of nitroglycerin.

But we all have those days, right?

In fact, it appears “one of those days” is the Isle of Fate’s main export the last few years. We’ve all taken more hits than Rocky in all of his cinematic bouts combined and the same can be said for the business world. Restaurants in particular have been reeling like that guy whose ear Mike Tyson decided to chomp on back in the day.  

Which is why prices have skyrocketed lately. (It’s not just greed, kids, though that’s certainly a factor that can’t be ignored.)

Still…

Today my lovely bride and I hopped (in my case, limped) into our Honda (that we’re still paying off) and sped off to a local purveyor of coffees, confections and high-end breakfast foods for what has become our new favorite drink.

A concoction of chocolate that’s hot, topped with enough cream of the whipped variety and syrup to put anyone into a glorious sugar coma – served in a ginormous ceramic cup.

Ambrosia.

The cacophony of sounds that surround us are a welcome bonus:

• Hushed (mostly) conversations between friends, lovers, would-be business associates.
• The clinking of spoons after their mixology duties are complete.
• The occasional cough. (That still sends chills down spines.)
• Kitchen devices dispensing the aforementioned beverages.
• Cash registers signifying that commerce is alive and well.

So what if it all costs more than the car I’m still paying off? The sweet scent emanating from the mug before me fills my nostrils with something other than the stench of anxiety. The cream is fluffy and satisfying, the ridiculously smooth beverage itself a delight for the tongue and throat.

With each sip I can feel my worries melt away faster than the whipped cream. It’s official: I’m declaring it as therapy/medical expenses on next year’s tax return. 

I’m a genius…