Pizza Dude Sez

Pizza Dude Says: How My Spiritual Journey Began Part II

9/16/2017

My family wasn't overly religious or spiritual when I was growing up. We had a church, and occasionally said "grace" before a meal...usually if it was a holiday or a larger gathering. As I recall, I went to church with my mother and grandmother fairly regularly until I was about 12. My father went sometimes, too, but not too often. I said my prayers sometimes before I went to sleep, but it wasn't a particularly solemn or spiritual thing for me...I was just doing it because I was told somewhere along the way it was a good thing to do.

Church, for me, when I was a kid, wasn't really an enlightening or aesthetic thing at all. It was just sort of something you did, you know. It was more of a community--a gathering of families. I think it seemed a bit like school to me in a way, but I doubt I ever considered that when I was a kid. Though I didn't dread or dislike Sunday School with a handful of other kids, I didn't necessarily look forward to it either. It was nice though that going to Sunday School meant we got to miss the boring parts of the main church service, and we only came in during the part where we sang, prayed, drank juice, and ate crackers. There was a kid in my Sunday School class (I can't remember his name) who used to wait until our teacher had us all close our eyes for prayer, and he would let out a loud fart during prayer. I always secretly enjoyed that part of it, I'll admit. But the very best part of going to church on Sundays was when the main church service let out..it was like when the school bell rang after a long day and you felt free. The adults would gather in the hallways and talk about God-knows-what, while we kids ran off to drink punch, eat cookies, and play extended sessions of grab-ass in the gymnasium.

Now this isn't to say going to church served no purpose for me. I did make some pretty good friends there, and I do believe some good seeds were planted in me. Though I didn't understand the depth of things or why we were really learning them, I do remember the stories...you know, all the ones you hear about: David vs Goliath, Noah's Ark, Jonah & the Whale, etc. I even got a button and bible presented to me by the minister for memorizing all the names of the books of the bible in order.

By the time I was 12, church became optional for me. My mom and grandma would go (my grandma lived with us by then), and I would generally choose to sleep in late instead, and watch the Denver Broncos game when it came on. Yes, I had officially reached that age where football was much more interesting to me than bible stories, cookies, punch, and grab-ass in the church gymnasium. And I'm very grateful my parents gave me the freedom to choose. I honestly believe that very freedom to make my own choice was a huge part of the profound spirituality I would find within myself many years later as an adult. We all still went to church together (even my dad) for special things like Easter or Christmas Eve services and what not. And that was the beginning of a long stretch for me not really thinking about or acknowledging God. It wasn't that I didn't believe in God, it just wasn't something that ever entered my thoughts.

As I got into my teens, my grandmother influenced me a lot spiritually without me ever realizing it at the time. She was so sneaky spiritual lol. She would tell me these stories from her past--sometimes from when she was a kid, sometimes from when she was an adult. She never once mentioned God, church, or the bible in her stories...she was very clever! She would tell me stories about how much she loved the times of the Great Depression she grew up in. How it was such a beautiful time because no one had anything...everyone had lost everything, so no one looked down at others. There was no class warfare. It was just people in neighborhoods coming together to help one another any way they could. Her parents had died when she was young, and she was adopted into a very wealthy family that owned a hotel. But her parents lost the hotel and restaurant and everything else during the Great Depression. This was a strange concept to a kid, you know, so of course I asked her how losing everything could be so great. She went on to tell me about lifelong friends she made while standing in the soup lines, and how one person would find enough work to buy several loaves of bread...and how instead of keeping it for themselves, they would go round the neighborhood and share it with other families that needed it. That did start sounding pretty nice to me, though I hadn't completely bought in at that age. To this day, my grandmother is the only person I've ever had tell me what a wonderful time the Great Depression was. There were many other stories she told me along those lines, but I won't share them here. They all seemed to have a recurring anti-materialistic, caring-for-others theme to them. It wasn't about what you had or didn't have, it was about who you were as a person. This most certainly had a huge impact on my spiritual journey as I got older.

In my later teens I started contemplating the concept of God and church more. My entire family had stopped going to church by this time...even my grandmother (who still lived with us). I still believed in God of course, but couldn't wrap myself around the concept of a CRUEL God, and this is when I really started questioning organized religion as a whole. And I don't mean just Christian churches, but ALL religions. It all seemed so hypocritical to me. All these different religions claimed to be the ONLY right one, so at very best only ONE of them was right and all the others were liars...but it was more likely to me that they were ALL liars. If a child were raised in the "wrong" religion, how could a just God condemn them for something that was forced on them by their family? Were they really given a choice? No. Not if they respected their families. Another thing that affected me during this time were all the mega-church televangelists riddled with scandal. Drugs. Fraud. Prostitution. Sexual abuse. Child molestation. And on and on. And these were the people that were going to guide me into the Light? I don't think so, dude. Homie don't play that. I'll find my own way to the Light, thank you very much!

And so I pushed God and faith aside entirely for many many years after that, and didn't feel even the least bit guilty about it. I graduated from high school, and moved to the Chicago area to become a rock star. And that's enough of my story for tonight.

Thank you for coming along with me on this crazy spiritual journey.

I love you.
XX
Kev

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Pizza Dude Says: Something Different From Me...How My Spiritual Journey Began Part I

9/10/2017

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I want to start this entry out with a little disclaimer:

1.You shouldn't worry about what I'm about to write. I'm not going to go into theology, religion, and dogma and such. Just as I wouldn't want anyone telling ME what to believe, I don't want to tell you what to believe either, though I'm always hoping people believe in something greater than mankind, whatever they may choose to call it.

And...
2.I judge no one, not even myself. I am me, flaws, quirks, and all. And you are YOU, flaws, quirks, and all. We all make both good and poor decisions at times, and we all have our paths that we can't always see. I am neither above nor beneath any other human being, and so I don't see you that way either.

I'm not sure how many parts there will be to this entry, but I expect it will take at least a few. I want to be thorough, and I don't like to make a single blog entry too long so that it becomes tedious. In these entries, however many they end up being, I'm going to stick to some strange experiences I've had in my life over the years...things that I believe helped shape me into the spiritual being I am. I believe you are a spiritual being too, whoever you may be, because I believe we are ALL spiritual beings. And, further, that we are all literally connected, despite not being able to "see" that. These experiences I'm going to share here are things I have told very few people about in my life. Things even my own children don't know about me. But my heart is calling me to share now...I suppose so that maybe you are encouraged to turn within yourself and find your own Love and Light within you. Basically, if I can do it, you can too. We live in strange times now, and it's time for more and more things to come into the open. That's what I feel inside. It's time to stop being afraid; time to stop keeping things hidden that might serve a positive purpose for someone else in need. And I'll clarify once more, I'm NOT referring to religion at all. You should know I've never been a big fan of organized religion of any kind, though I acknowledge its place and benefit for millions of people around the world. But it's not for everyone. Some need it, some don't. Neither way is wrong. Just different paths to the same top of the mountain, you know. That's how I see it anyway.

Though I was born in Frankfurt, Germany (on an American military base), I would really consider the beginning of my spiritual journey taking place in a town called Sapulpa, Oklahoma. My biological father was in the Army, which is why I was born in Germany. We moved to Oklahoma when I was about 1 year old, which is where his family came from. His mother, my grandmother, was a full blooded Cherokee Medicine Woman...so he was half Cherokee, and I am one quarter. I mention this because I think it pertains to my spirituality. I have always felt an odd connection not only to nature and the Earth and Universe, but to frequency itself. I sincerely believe this is due to the Native American blood within me. Even from a small child, I was able to "hear" certain people, even when they were silent. When I was a child I thought I was "feeling" them, but as I got older and studied electronics I discovered what was actually happening was that I was hearing ultra-high frequencies that are normally considered to be beyond the range of human hearing. Anyone that has experienced this will know that when you hear high enough (or low enough) frequencies they become more sensations than sounds. You feel instead of hear. As a teenager, I finally put 2 and 2 together and realized that all things give off frequency. To this day, I don't understand it enough to expound on it, but I know it's true. Everything in our universe is in a constant state of motion...down to every single particle of everything that exists. Trippy, huh?

And with this aforementioned Medicine Woman grandmother is where some of the strangeness with me really began. I don't recall it myself, of course, but this is how my mother relays the story to me:

I was almost 2 years old and I still wasn't walking at all. I could take steps if someone held me up, but I still couldn't walk on my own. My mother became very concerned, of course, thinking I might have some sort of disease or what not. As the story goes, we couldn't afford to go to a doctor at the time to get me checked out, so she decided to call my grandmother. My grandmother came over and looked me over thoroughly. Then she told my mother, "I'll be back in a little while. I have to go get something from the woods." A few hours later, my grandmother returned with a bird's nest. She tried to explain to my mom what the nest was--my mom only remembers that it had to be a nest from a specific type of bird, but she can't remember which. We speculate it might have been a robin's nest.

Next, my grandmother, the Medicine Woman, told my mom to bring me outside, and so she did. Then my grandmother placed the bird's nest on the ground and lit it on fire. Once the flame was large enough, my grandmother took me from my mother's arms and held me in the flame. My mother says I never cried or seemed to express any pain at all. When my grandmother was satisfied, she took me out of the flame and stood me up on the ground. And I've walked just fine ever since.

So this is what I consider the beginning of my spiritual journey...in this body anyway. Who knows what other existences I might have lived? I certainly don't know.

Thank you all for being a part of my journey.
I love you.
Kev.
XX

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Pizza Dude Says: Tips & False Senses of Control

8/28/2017

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Many of my thoughts the last couple days have centered around the terrible storm Henry and all the people of Texas (and everywhere too, since technically it affects ALL living things) whose lives are going to be changed forever because of it. So of course I've been praying a lot while delivering pizza lately...more than usual even. I scrolled through Twitter a time or two here and there hoping to see some sense of unity among people with genuine unconditional compassion for others. And, thankfully, I did. But I saw a lot of the usual political rhetoric that seems to dominate our world these days too*sigh* So I hide out in my car mostly, delivering pizza, and trying to magically emit positive energy to all that need it, and keeping my conversations short as possible so as not to break my form of meditation.

Delivering pizza so many years has benefited me greatly, I believe, in learning to be conscious of just how little control we have over things in this life. And Henry emphasized that even more, of course.

Though I earn an hourly wage, I rely on tips to pay my bills on time. Many kind customers are aware of this, and I'm grateful for them. But I'm grateful for the ones that don't tip too. For some of those people have changed my life in other good ways, and there are a number of reasons a customer might not tip. Though some delivery drivers will insist that anyone that doesn't tip is a mean and unfeeling person, I can tell you from many first-hand experiences that simply isn't true. As in all aspects in life, there are things we have control over, and things we don't. As a delivery driver, I can increase my chances of getting a tip by taking care of my end of things (not forgetting items from their order, getting them their food warm and in good condition in a reasonable period of time, smiling and being polite, etc). And though it would seem I have control over those things, in actuality I have very little control over most things (ie how busy we are--sometimes we're so busy that the ovens are full and the orders are late even when they're coming out of the oven; And there's traffic, road and weather conditions, construction zones, accidents, flat tires etc). Some people tip regardless. Some tip more the faster you get there, and less when it takes longer...all the way down to zero if they feel it took too long. Some aren't going to tip no matter how quickly you arrive, how warm the food is, and how friendly and pleasant you are. So, in summary, I basically have no ACTUAL control over income that I use to pay my bills on time. So I have to be smart with my money...I DO control how I save and spend my money. It can be scary at first, if you've never lived this way before. But if you do it long enough, you learn to budget properly, maximize your odds at getting tips, and most of all to just relax and know that you'll be okay. It sort of requires an element of faith, though not necessarily in a spiritual way per se.

I wanted to cover this mainly because of the way I see so many people treating each other online so much these days. It seems to me a lot of the anger stems from a false sense of control. I think people often fail to realize that you can't FORCE someone to see a particular point of view. And insulting them or calling them names makes them even less likely to listen to what you have to say. Just like I can't force someone to tip me. How would you respond if you ordered a pizza, didn't tip the driver, then the driver went off on a tirade about how evil and selfish you are and started calling you names? Would that make you change your mind and tip them? No. Of course not. It would make you call the restaurant and tell the manager/owner what the driver did and that you're never ordering from them again. Right? So why should it be any different when you try to tell someone online they must believe the same as you. It makes them want to block and report you. It doesn't open minds, hearts, and set the stage for constructive dialogue. Even though your intentions may be good, holy, and pure, you're not going to change someone's thoughts and feelings by upsetting them. If you have a cause that's dear to your heart that you want to raise awareness to, by all means, Tweet about it. Share your viewpoint, articles about it, etc. But let it be general, in the open--for ALL--not @ anyone in particular. And try to be respectful, best as you can. And if someone reacts with anger to your tweets, you're under no obligation to reply to them. You actually control that. And you can block and report them if you feel you need to. No matter how well you think you know someone, if you've never lived inside their skin, you don't really know them. You don't know their story, what they've been through. You're in no position to judge them.

One of my all time favorite customers we have is a disabled person that orders a small pizza from us about once a month. They live in a small and humble apartment. Instead of answering the door, they shout for me to come in please, and to set the pizza on the table for them. They are paralyzed from the waist down and rely on disability for their income. They have a very old television...with a tube even! And they are always very nice and polite to me. But this customer rarely tips me. And I understand exactly why...they live on a fixed income and have to be very cautious how they spend their money. The small pizza they order from us once a month is a special treat they give to themselves, and I'm always truly honored that we are a part of their beautiful existence. And I am always honored to smile and say hi to them, and place their pizza gently on their table. One time they actually tipped me $5 and I was truly humbled, but sort of felt bad at the same time. But mostly I was grateful. As I always aim for. In all aspects of life.

May this find you well. Life is beautiful beautiful.
Continued prayers & oodles of positive energy for the people affected by great tragedy.
Thank you.
I love you.
XX

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Pizza Dude Says: Change Comes From Within: Danny the Dragonfly

8/22/2017

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Today I saved a dragonfly's life. And I named him Danny.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, already.

Last night I delivered to a most lovely lady in a trailer park. It was a large order. Her adorable daughter (who appeared to be 4 or 5 yrs old) looked on as her mom and I greeted each other and I started handing her the food. I said hi to the little girl and asked her how she was doing and if she was ready for some pizza. She didn't answer. She just looked at me sort of sheepishly then hid behind her mom's leg and peeked around at me. The quietest and shortest game of Peek-a-Boo I've ever played! I didn't press the little girl to speak, because being an introvert myself, I know it's not good to try and force a person to speak that doesn't want to. They have their reasons, you know. I've delivered to this residence a few times before, so I already knew they were a kind an loving family. I'd never seen the young girl before though. Normally, who I assume is her older sister, answers the door and helps the mom. And the mom chastises them if they take too long to answer the door, lol. In a gentle way, though.

So finally we confirm they have all their food and the mom hands me the money. I didn't bother counting the money (it feels rude to me to count it in front of the customer to me), knowing the lady is always nice and that she'd never short me intentionally. I smiled, thanked the mom, and asked, "Do you need any change?"

The nice lady smiled back and said, "Oh no, Honey, change comes from within. That's for you!" I thanked her again and smiled and waved at the little girl once more before going back to my car. The little girl came out from behind her mom's leg finally and watched me, but didn't wave back. It felt nice getting back into my car. My heart was warmed, and I had a peaceful smile on my face as I drove off.

And now we get to today. Lunchtime at work. And how I saved a dragonfly's life.

I had a few minutes before a delivery I was waiting on was done, so I decided to go out to the back alley and break down some boxes for the recycle bin...instead of standing around in the kitchen and inviting unwanted attention from my boss. It was a great choice, because otherwise I would never have met Danny the Dragonfly. I'm not sure if the dragonfly was ever called Danny before I named him that, and he never told me either way. And I'm not sure exactly why I decided to call him that. It just sort of came to me, and rolled off my tongue...so to speak. It may have been because I had been listening to the audio book version of John Steinbeck's "Tortilla Flat" recently, but I'm not sure about that either. But he felt like a Danny to me, and so that's what he became to me. For me.

Danny was inside one of the boxes I was about to break down for the recycle bin. On the edge, not moving. I thought at first he was dead. I'm so glad I saw him before I squashed the box (and him along with it!) I looked at him more closely, but I hadn't thought to name him yet. He was a beautiful combination of black and yellow, and a bit small I thought, for a dragonfly. But not tiny. Just smallish. I touched his body gently with my finger and he still didn't flinch in the least. That's why I thought he was dead. But he didn't quite "feel" dead to me, if you know what I mean. I knew that I needed to move him out of the box so I could crush it, but I had the feeling I shouldn't try and grab him by the wings--in the event he was still alive and I might damage them. So I tore off a little piece of paper from my pocket and sort of scooped him off of the edge of the box. It worked perfectly. He slid perfectly onto the paper--still didn't move or flinch in the least. But as I went to transfer him safely to the top of the recycle bin, he buzzed his wings a few times. Subtly. I could feel and hear their vibration. He was still alive! Beautiful beautiful!

Then I slid him off the piece of paper onto the top of the recycle bin, and that's when I decided I would call him Danny. Yes, Danny just needed some rest, that's all. But he stopped buzzing his wings again, and remained motionless. I went back to breaking down boxes, but kept my eyes on Danny as I did so. I stopped breaking down boxes after another minute or so and decided to look more closely at Danny. I massaged his fuzzy little back so gently, careful not to disturb his wings. Still he didn't move. I got my face close to his as I continued to stroke his back. No movement at all. I assured Danny the Dragonfly that it was going to be okay. But deep down, I felt his time had just come. And I was very honored to have been there to be with him as he crossed over. It was a blessing to know that I was the last thing Danny the Dragonfly would see in this world. A small honor or none at all to many, but a tremendous honor to an odd person like myself. I almost walked away to break down more boxes and decide on what I should do with Danny's little fuzzy corpse.

Then something I can't explain emerged from my heart. I remembered that we were put on this earth to Love and to heal with the gifts we've been given. I felt as though my heart was chastising me for giving up so easily; that it's a shame we forget the power we have within us to heal. And so I decided I wasn't going to give up on Danny. Not now. No. I imagined my heart sending him loving and warm energy. And I stroked his fuzzy back once more. He moved!!! Just a tiny bit. And he didn't buzz his wings. He just stood up on his skinny little legs, and held himself up on his own power. Or, as I like to believe, the power of Love. Oh how tall he stood! I smiled gratefully and told Danny the Dragonfly how proud of him I was that he didn't give up. My heart told me to place my hand, palm down, in front of him and extend my index finger. Very slowly, Danny took a few steps forward and stepped up onto my finger. But he was still very weak. He was only able to get his front legs up on top of my finger, so that his head rested right above it. That's as far as he went. And then he started turning his head..and he lifted up his front legs and started sort of wiping them above his eyes. It was so adorable. It reminded me very much of my cat when she cleans her own face. That's it!!! Danny the Dragonfly was taking a little bath, cleaning himself! That's how it felt to me. So very adorable! Turning his little head side to side and cleaning it with his tiny legs. I was frozen in time for that moment, just enjoying the magic of Love and life that surrounds us everywhere. If only we take the time to recognize it. Then Danny finally stepped all the way up onto my finger and looked straight at me. I'm not sure he was thinking or speaking anything at all, but I like to imagine he was thanking me. And I thanked HIM! And suddenly Danny jumped up off my finger, buzzed his wings, and disappeared into the trees. I watched him fly off until he was out of my sight, and I wished him well. Life is truly beautiful beautiful! I hope you all see that every day.

A lot of you know how much I enjoy using my imagination to color things, but I assure you the events I wrote in this chapter happened exactly as I experienced them in real life. The Sacred Garden stories I write on the other blog are highly embellished, often completely fictitious. Not here. The point of this blog is to share my real life as I experience it. Reality can be beautiful too, so long as we choose it to be. Even when it doesn't always give us what we want.

Change comes from within, Honey!
Gratitude.
I love you.
#PizzaDudeSez
XX

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Pizza Dude Says: Simply Complicated

8/18/2017

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Like a lot of things in life, pizza delivery is very simple on the surface: you bag the food, you deliver the food, you collect the money, you give the money to your boss & whatever's left over is for you. It's so simple that literally anyone with a license, car, insurance, and a clean driving record can do it. But only in theory...not in actuality. I do believe if you were to take only one delivery at a time, that probably anyone could do it in actuality too, but you don't make money that way, and the customers and your boss wouldn't be happy at all if you only took one delivery at a time. Only the one customer you delivered the food to would be happy. All the neglected ones would be highly upset with the whole restaurant.

By that logic, being an architect is very simple too: you get a ruler and some paper, draw some lines, roll the paper up, put it in a tube, and hand it someone and tell them to build it. Yes, it's a very good thing I'm not an architect! Or a doctor!! Oh man, that would be awful.

But as I've learned, there's a lot more that goes into things than outsiders often think of. I'll stick to pizza delivery since that's what I actually know. First off, there are generally several orders on top of the oven when you show up to work. It starts very simply: you check the tickets to see which one is the oldest time. Then you put it in a warming bag and check the other tickets to see which ones go the same direction. Still pretty easy, right? But that's actually when it starts getting complicated. How far away is your oldest time, and how long do you have to get there? What are road & traffic conditions like? How many other drivers are on shift at the moment? Will another driver be back shortly? Are there a lot more tickets on the rack that are coming, and are any almost done that are going your direction? Do you have a hotel, hospital, or office building delivery that's going to require extra time to get in and out of? What floor? Will you have to check and sign in with security? If you do, do you have time to drop your other deliveries first and come back and do the time-consuming one last?

Even all those questions aren't always easily answered. For instance, the question of how many drivers are on shift: you can't actually just count the heads of the fellow pizza dudes that are there, because it also depends on WHICH drivers are there. We have a couple of drivers that actually = 2 drivers (because they're overly greedy and drive too fast), and we have a couple of drivers that are the equivalent of only 1/2 of a driver (because they tend to take a very long time on their deliveries for whatever reason). We even have one driver that is equal to -1 of a driver, because he makes a number of mistakes that other drivers end up having to fix. You think I'm joking, don't you? I'm actually not. I, myself am the average 1 for a driver. So if we have a lot of deliveries on the oven and we're pressed for time, I'll have to stop and do some basic math: 1 + 2 + 1 + 1 - 1 + 2.= 6, we have 6 drivers on shift. Ask the cooks how many just left recently and get a rough idea of how many should be back approximately when. More math that I won't do here.

It's been my experience that it takes a certain type of brain to make a really good pizza driver...I suspect a very visual one. It goes without saying, of course, that one has to have a good understanding of the layout and numbering system of the city...but even with that knowledge it requires the ability to visualize possible routes you might take given a number of factors. Even some that are unpredictable.

Some types seem completely incapable of doing it. I've seen highly intelligent people not make it through their first day without getting fired. One, in particular, was going to school for his PhD and already had a Master's degree in some sort of engineering. And a nice guy too. But on his first run, he had one delivery that was literally about 4 blocks away from our restaurant and one that was on the opposite end of town (about 9 miles away through heavy traffic). He decided to deliver the food that was 4 blocks away last, since the one on the other end of town was the oldest time. The customer 4 blocks away, of course, was very angry that it took them almost 2 hours to get their food. And rightfully so! My boss let the engineer go in less than a total of 4 hours of employment at our restaurant.

And it works the other way too. I remember a hilarious episode from many years ago. It was a busy lunch rush, and our restaurant was hopping. I was loading my bag, and I overhear the girl up front telling my boss there was a customer on the line that needed to talk to him. I see my boss getting very agitated, asking the person on the phone, "What do you mean? How is that possible? Put him on the phone please." Then my boss said some things I won't repeat here, but he was talking to the driver who was standing there in front of the customer who had called to complain. As I recall, my boss told the driver "Next time deliver my @#@=& balls!" before slamming down the phone. Apparently the driver forgot the salad the customer ordered to an office...and the order was ONLY a salad. Which means somehow the driver entered the office building empty-handed, except for the ticket to collect the money. So yes, the driver delivered only a bill. No food. None of us have ever figured out how that's possible. But I know for a fact it happened. And the really strange thing is that he was actually a really good driver. No, he didn't get fired. Because he was a good and usually reliable driver.

So there seems to be no direct correlation between intelligence and pizza delivery aptitude. At least that's been my experience. Seems to me some of us were born for it, and some of us weren't. Which, I suppose, is like a lot of things in life. I'm so grateful that I was born for it, because there's no job I could love more.

Have a fabulous start to your weekend, to whom it applies. And thank you for riding along with me for a few!
I love you,
Kev.
XX
#PizzaDudeSez

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Pizza Dude Says: An Introduction

8/16/2017

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I've been a pizza delivery driver for many years now...by choice. I truly love this job, and fully intend to do it for as long as this life will allow me to. Right here, in beautiful Anchorage, Alaska...which I also love very much. But I know nothing lasts forever, so I'll just enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts. I wasn't always a pizza delivery driver--I've actually done a lot of different things in my life (I'm 46 years old at the time of this writing), but nothing job-wise has ever felt as perfect for me as delivering pizza.

So why start a blog about such a mundane thing?
Multiple reasons, really. But first off, why NOT start one? I firmly believe that every single life on this planet has an interesting story to tell...if only they'd all realize that and choose to share it. Thankfully more and more are doing so, which is wonderful. And nothing in this world is mundane if you take the time to notice it, and sprinkle in a little imagination. Instead of breaking down the other reasons, I'm going to tell you the processes that led me to decide to create this blog (which I only decided to do a few hours ago), and I think the other reasons will become clear:

A few days ago, while delivering pizza, of course, something that felt very surreal to me happened: I delivered to a house that I hadn't delivered to in many many years (I can't remember how many). I didn't recognize the address on the delivery ticket, but I remembered the house immediately when I pulled into their driveway. I remembered the family--they used to order regularly back in the day. And I remembered the son who would arrive at the door with his mom--he looked to be 7 or 8 years old. He stuck out to me because he spoke so well and was so well-mannered. His mom used to have him give me the money and collect the pizza while she looked on to make sure nothing went wrong. She was a nice lady too, I remembered. That was then. The other day, however, there was no mom when I delivered the pizza--just this massive teenager. He handed me the money and I handed him the food. He was very pleasant and well-spoken. Then it hit me! This massive teenager was the little boy who used to hand me the money way back when. I told him I hadn't delivered to this house for many years and asked him, "You were the little boy that used to hand me the money while your mom looked on aren't you?" He laughed and confirmed that he was, though he didn't indicate whether or not he remembered me. I didn't ask. Then I went on to my next delivery.

On the way to the next delivery, I had sort of an epiphany: people inside their houses tend to be frozen in time from my perspective. I wondered if this was due to my own self-centered tendencies, or if it was like that for others. The customers don't age to me generally. The kids don't grow up, the family pets don't grow old and die; a lady or dude in their 20's is ALWAYS a lady or dude in their 20's to me. Even though that's not true in the real world, it is in my own mind. That's my perspective. That fascinated me.

Then I started thinking about just how long I've been delivering pizza, and all the changes that have occurred in my own life during that time. So many. I've lost my father since then, I've had two kids since then. And a few relationships that came and went--both friendly AND romantic. I had a dog that died, and adopted a cat who is now my companion (Kaylee, my cat from space, I call her. From somewhere near Orion's belt, I do believe).

A couple days later, I started thinking about life in general...not just my own, but everyone's. I started thinking about how much negative energy has been spread in our world for a while now. How people seem more and more each day to become comfortable treating each other horribly. And I started thinking about how I might make some little difference in the world while delivering pizza. And how I already had been for many years now! And that made me smile. Then I started thinking about how life is a lot like delivering pizza...and came up with several analogies. Just a thought exercise for myself at that point--I hadn't decided to write about it yet. I mean I thought of firing off a few fun tweets, of course, but then it seemed like there was really a lot of ground to cover here. Felt like I was onto something. Something really worth sharing. I considered that one of the beautiful things about pizza is that (at least here, in the U.S.) it transcends race, politics, religion, and even sports (though sports goes very well with pizza & wings of course!) Pizza unites, it doesn't divide. If people are hanging out and decide to order pizza, they discuss it and order a pizza. They DISCUSS it! If one likes pepperoni and one likes sausage, they don't argue and try to convince each other that they are right and the other one is wrong. No one ever says, "Pepperoni is evil. If you order pepperoni, you are evil too, and I'm leaving and I can't be your friend anymore." No, they simply order the pizza half and half or as many pizzas as they need (the more pizza the better, is my opinion, but I'm biased of course!) Something actually innocuous in our crazy world, right? And something sensible. Something that unites rather than divides. And in the event their were people triggered enough to argue over their pizza, I wouldn't have to see it or be a part of it...other than being the "good" guy no matter the outcome. Because I'm simply delivering the pizza. And isn't it so perfect that pizza is generally in the shape of a circle?

So I decided I would write an essay on these things, and post it to one of my other blog pages. I started organizing the paragraphs and layout in my mind as I continued to take deliveries. But the end of my shift was nearing, and it was seeming like there was way too much in my mind to cram into one posting. So then I realized this was worthy of its own blog. That I could share life from the perspective of a pizza delivery dude in Alaska. This seemed to have a lot of potential for fun. Then I got even more excited to get home from work (though abiding by the speed limits of course!), and thought it would be cool if people started leaving comments here and it could turn into sort of a happy, drama-free forum over time. And how I could be silly and do sort of a Dear Abby sort of thing where people ask the Pizza Dude advice regarding life's questions (or pizza questions), and he could answer them. He could be sort of a silly, fun problem solver. And I decided #PizzaDudeSez would be a really fun hashtag. Then I remembered that we don't need to do that here, since we have Twitter! So before I created this blog and started writing, I created a new Twitter account, @PizzaDudeSez . So people can tweet me their life's questions there using the #PizzaDudeSez hashtag, and I will share my quasi-pizza dude wisdom with you. And this really feels like it could be a lot of fun. And something not dark and negative.

For those that have known me as KeV Atomic and XanaduDead in the past, I will still be those dudes too, of course! Just adding another online hat now, that has the potential to make lots of us smile over time. And I will keep writing the Sacred Garden stories of course too, but I really want to keep those more intimate--for people that have known me for a long time and have enjoyed my silly stories. So those stories will be published via CawCawCarl. The Pizza Dude Sez blogs will be for everyone, and I will tweet links to those much more openly.

On a personal note, this solves another problem I've been having lately: namely that with all the added tension in the world, I've found the need to write more and more lately in order to maintain some sort of balance within myself. Writing heals me. The Garden Stories are generally too long and involved to release multiples of them each week on a regular basis. I don't want to cheapen them by writing too many too soon. And I don't always have the time and energy to write a chapter when I want to. Life happens, you know? So the Pizza Dude Sez blog will give me an outlet that I can use to heal in between the Sacred Garden chapters.

Anyway, to those of you reading this, thank you for joining me on this journey. Can we put our troubles aside for a few minutes here and there and just enjoy our lives? Life is beautiful beautiful!

Let's ride!
I love you.
XX

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Pizza Dude Says: How My Spiritual Journey Began Part II

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Pizza Dude Says: Simply Complicated

Pizza Dude Says: An Introduction

Kevin

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