Category Archives: Game

Family traditions; welcome home baby

Ton 2.0 brought his son home today. Another healthy squaling man child for the Clan Ton. I didn’t go see the boy in the hospital. Not my scene these days, but we left for his place shortly after we got the call and let ourselves in we when got there. We did the typical shit one would expect, drank up his best bourbon, fornicated on his kitchen table, took care of his pets, cleaned up the house and cooked a shit ton of food.

There are things that matter more then life to Clan Ton. I learned these things from my father and his father like they learned them from theirs. Well them and our uncle’s, brothers and what not. When my father brought me home to present me to his father I was laid in a bed with a Confederate flag, an 1858 Remington, a King James Bible and some sliver dollars. I still have that photo. But these are things we value, the Old South and all it stands for, freedom and fire power, hard money and the hard ways of the Almighty.

So when Ton4.0 made it home, my boy brought him to me. This small 8 pound bundle of fragile perfection. Full of potential and promise, not weighted down by failure, regert or tye burdens of life. I held him up, said the same Bible versus we always say and laid him down on my son’s bed. Dead in the center of our stars and bars, silver dollars, King James Bible and our forefather’s Remington.

Of course I Tonierized somethings. I bought the boy some fireworks, a bottle of whisky, a Ford hat, a Harley Davidson onesie, a Henry lever action .22 and a gift certificate for a free pit bull tattoo. Of course the gift certificate is fake, but Ton4.0’s mother has more of a sense of humor then I figured.

These things are symbols, they all mean more then the surface image and they are all traditions. A firearm is more then a tool, it’s your sovereignty as Man. Silver is more then hard money vs fiat dollars. It’s wealth based on reality and the opposition to magic thinking. If the Old South has an official dog, the pit bull is it. Loyal, relentless and called the nanny dog for generations.

Some traditions need to die. Plowing with mules makes no damn sense. With any luck Ton2.0 is the last get from my family. Sometimes new traditions come about. My father and grandfather rode Harleys, same with me and Ton2.0. A goodly amount of having traditions is to reproduce the kind of men and women your family is proud of

I do have a point besides bragging about another grandson. On occasions I hear men bitch about the lack of traditions. Society moves on and change is one of life’s constants, but you have only yourself to blame for allowing your family traditions to die. Only yourself to blame for not creating some. My boys will learn their family’s history, they’ll learn to ride fast, shoot straight and always report the truth. They will know how to hunt, how to fish, and what their forefathers intended to leave behind before yankees fucked shit up. These things are timeless and you can take them where ever you go.  I won’t be around to teach my son’s or grandsons these things but I have full faith in Ton2.0 that our family and our traditions will be projected into the next generation

Alpha in music from the gash’s point of view

 

Hate Myself For Loving You”

Midnight, gettin’ uptight, where are you?
You said you’d meet me, now it’s quarter to two
I know I’m hangin’ but I’m still wantin’ you
Hey Jack, it’s a fact they’re talkin’ in town
I turn my back and you’re messin’ around
I’m not really jealous, don’t like lookin’ like a clown
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart then you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Uh

Daylight, spent the night without you
But I’ve been dreamin’ ’bout the lovin’ you do
I’m over being angry ’bout the hell you put me through
Hey, man, bet you can treat me right
You just don’t know what you was missin’ last night
I wanna see you begging, say forget it just for spite
I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you
Ow! Huh

I think of you ev’ry night and day
You took my heart and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
Can’t break free from the the things that you do
I wanna walk but I run back to you
That’s why I hate myself for loving you

I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself for loving you
I hate myself
I hate myself for loving you

In the intrest of full disclosure, Joan Jett use to make my motor run something ferice

Game Dog Game, humility and who to trust, how far to trust him

A man should have Game. No, not talking about picking up bitches sort of game. Game Dog Game, an innate desire to cross the ring in order to destroy the other guy, ignoring pain, exhaustion, fear and injury. I promise you, if you have Game Dog kind of  Game picking up bitches ain’t going to be a problem. A dog with Game will do this for an hour if that’s what it takes.  Ultimately a man should have “Dead Game”; the desire to keep fighting and trying to kill/ win/ succeed despite being mortally wounded yourself.

Some Game Dogs are barnstormers, meaning they come out of the gate and quickly kill or incapacitate the other dog. They are bad ass, but do they have Game?  Are they ever really tested? This lack of being tested means you have no idea if they have Game or not but everyone loves barnstormers. There is something heroic and thrilling about barnstormers which draws the soul.

My dog Boy is a barnstormer.  When we pulled him out of a fighting kennel, Boy was already retired and in their breeding program, without much in the way of scaring. That is pretty good indication he ran through 3-5 other dogs quickly. My old neighbors thought their dogs were bad ass and they didn’t need to keep their mutts out of Boy’s yard. They rolled up into Boy’s yard while he was chilling in the warm sun. He killed those other dogs out right. It would take me more time to tell the story then it did for Boy to get his job done and the only doctoring he needed afterward was a bath and some hydrogen peroxide. That’s a barnstormer, and it’s bad ass to behold but has Boy’s Game ever really been tested?

My Lady Pit has Game. She is down for pretty much anything. She is happy to jump on the bike and ride, she is thrilled to be on the boat with me, she especially loves the truck and off roading. That’s a low level of Game but it’s there. She loves to hunt and will be hunting pigs with me before long. Thats another level of Gane. She is happy to see friendly people, she is quick as quick gets to stand between us and whatever/ who ever she doesn’t like. She dislikes the lawn mower and will attack it on sight. Funny as hell but a pain in the ass too. More Game. Took her to my buddy’s farm and she suddenly remembered her genetic purpose and went after his bull. The bull sent her flying and as soon as she stopped bouncing she was up and after the bull again. I said she has Game. Didn’t say she was smart but on a more serious note we have a 5 foot or so alligator that likes to hang out on our side of the river. Not big enough to be much of a threat to an adult but plenty big enough to eat her or harm a child. My Lady Pit hates that thing with a burning passion. She is always on the look out for the gator and chases it off when ever she sees it. That’s Game

My dog Girl has Dead Game. Shoot that bitch and she will still run your ass out of the house. That’s how she came to me. I trust my family’s safety to her. I send my Girls and sons on the road or leave them behind with no real concern about men harming them because Girl will not fail to act, even if all she does is buy them time with her life. That’s Dead Game.

See the difference? Some men are barnstormers, some few have Dead Game, a goodly number have Game to vary degreess and a bunch are just prey.

Never trust prey. Ever. They will get you killed, rat you out or fuck you over when the suck shows up. Lucky for us, it’s pretty damn easy to tell prey.

A man with Game can be trusted to whatever extent he has Game. Determining how much Game a man has is tricky bidness outside military life. I know the police and fire academies test for Game. Sports are a test of Game but doesn’t seem to me most boys and men are tested very often or particularly hard.

A man with Dead Game can be trusted. However he is human and will fuck up. Nice thing about men with Dead Game is when they break your trust it’s due to extrene circumstances, or a fuck up not a fuck over. One can be forgiven, the other should never be forgotten

A barnstormer? Who knows? Maybe he has been tested, maybe he hasn’t. I would watch barnstormers the closest.  It’s diffcult to see if men like this have Game because they tend to over come obstacles with ease. It’s natural to trust barnstormers, something about human nature draws us to them, human or k9 version. I suggest you show extra caution with trusting such men.

In all things be patient and wise until it’s time to act, then hit hard, fast and while the other guy ain’t looking.  Figuring out who to trust, how far to trust them and what to trust them with is no different. Slow your roll, wait, observe, weigh their actions.

 

Way back when I was a young Ranger, we had this fat kid in our fireteam. Fat Kid had Game. That fat fuck never once gave up. He probably came in last place on just about everything we were rated on but he always made the standard, no matter what it cost him. Fat Kid never fell out of a road march or run. Even when he broke 3 toes and had 8 clicks to walk.  Fat Kid had Dead Game and as much as we ragged on him for being a fat pain in the ass, the man never gave up and always kept his shit tight when things got bad. You could trust Fat Kid with your life and we did. He was a soild dude

Finding out who has Game is the function of pretty much every non occupation producing military school there is. And most sports worth the name test a man’s Game. Conventional military units are tested much less then SOCOM units but they are tested and there is the tier system within SOCOM. Pee-Wee wrestling tests a boys Game, the Olympic wrestlers are tested a lot harder. The higher up the tier system the harder the tests, the more Game the man has. In simple terms. It’s more complex then that but let’s keep it simple.

Men need to be tested to develop Game Dog Game. Really tested, not stayed after school and worked really hard on his homework when he was having trouble in caculs tested. We admire Dead Game above all else. Those 300 Spartans, Christ facing the cross instead of using His Devine powers to side step the horror of crucifixion, every ballsy mo for with a CMH. We as men respect men with that congressional medal but shake our heads in WTF at congressional  medals of freedom for faggy shit.

Testing men outside the military is a good deal more difficult. We here in the West live in an incredibly soft, civilized, pussy of a world. Typically civilian life is so soft I find it diffcult to related to men who haven’t served. The gulf between their world and reality is usually beyond my ability to bridge. I ain’t bullshitting when I say I trust my rifle, the Ranger next to me and my Pit Bull. They have all been tested again and again. It’s hard to know who to trust, to what degree and what topic to trust them during these soft times.

There are ways men test themselves here in the West. Sports is the easy example and the higher the risk of physical harm the better the test, though I am not sure how reliable a loyalty test it is if it’s an individual sport. There are all sorts of cool shit dudes can do to test themselves and build soild masculine bonds like 36 hours of Uwharrie. If it’s tough on the body, mind and spirit, with a realistic chance of injury and expectation of playing while hurt, it’s a legit test.

Life tests a lot of men. Some dudes get mountian high piles of shit dropped on them. Every man gets beat down, a man with Game gets back up.

Gangs get this notion of testing. To earn your way into a 1% crew you have to spend some time as a hang around where the patch holders get an idea of what kind of man you are. Then you are invited to prospect and if you meet their criteria, all patch holders will vote on your acceptance. 1 no vote and it’s a no. They do this for the obvious reasons like not wanting to patch in an informant, but they want to test you for more day to day shit too. Will you put the patch and club above all else? Do you run from a fight? Do you whine like a bitch on long rides through thunderstorms? Do you do dumb shit that creates problems?

A police and fire acedmey will tests recruits for Game. Everyone else wants to know less important shit like your GPA, which college you went to, credit score and the like

Gangs, the military,  cops and firefighters are all tested for Game. John the IT guy three cubicles over? Probably not so much

I don’t trust men without Game, but even men with Game will fail.

No matter how Game a man is, he can be broken. I remember going to SERE school and the men who thought they couldn’t be broken. We all broke. Not typically through pain or via physical misery but through clever manipulation during a weakened state but none the less, there you are, on video admitting to all sorts of shit it would be physically impossible for you to do. Men have limits on what they can and should endure in everyday life as well. All of this applies to less extreme things then water boarding and being shoved into a 55 gallon drum full of water for 12 hours. Water boarding works in minutes but we all face a more mundane grind every day, some more extreme then others, and we all have our limits. Different limits on different sucks per man

This isn’t a call to trust no one. That’s an empty life but be careful who you trust, why you trust them, how far you trust them and what you trust them with. You may trust one friend to never turn his back on you when things are bad but never want to follow his buiness advice or even confide in him if he is a blabber mouth. Be aware all men have limits, myself/ ourselves included. I’ve been broken. I would rather go back into that 55 gallon drum of water then still be married. Trust tested men, men who have been through some shit and who came out the other end wiser and harder then before but. Keep your own counsel, keep your cards close and realize we don’t live in a movie. We live here in the real world where good men will let you down, sometimes deliberately but often enough through casual negelince and ignorance and on rare occasions due to extrene circumstances.

I think this recognition of our limits and the limits of others is the heart and soul of real world humility. Biblical humility. It’s healthy and natural vs the your a worthless worm version of humility that is preached today. A lot of men carry heavy burdens that would break some other man, while that some other man carries a burden that would break others. It’s the way of things.

This trust issue is another reason I lean toward a heavy dose of Stoicism. We can only control how we react to life not the world around us. By all means embrace deep masculine friendships. Go out and do ballys shit as part of a team but have realistic expectations about yourself and then men around you.

Keep on trucking

I don’t normally write much about long-term life with women. Mostly because my marriage was a train wreck and I have had more success pulling chicks and nexting bitches then keeping them around but things with The Girls have been going well for awhile now. Even after this last meat grinder of a year. I can’t recall the last anything resembling a shit tests and when things looked their worst this year, The Girls never wavered. They never bitched when our budget was cut by more then half, they never got pissy when I hit the road to clear my head. No second guessing. No nagging or pitty parties.

That’s a new experience for me. Times past, women added stress. From the beginning The Girls have made it a habit to talk about me in the 3rd person as if I am not there. Its always amused me. When The Girls talk about me/ us etc it’s no longer about how masculine I am, or how I am an asshole or impossible to live with or how could they both love an asshole so much etc etc

These days the Girls mostly mention how much fun they have with me. I am not sure why the evolution in their discussions but it has been an interesting change, one I didn’t notice until recently. Could a sense of shared adventure be key to LTR success? One would think I started out fun then became an impossible to live with asshole, isn’t that the script? I reckon it took them awhile to fully submit to my frame and adjust to The Ton life. Even the small stuff like eating off those tin camping plates, using dutch ovens over open fires to make supper, fire pit,  smores and wine almost nightly is a departure from their norm.

They never camped before me, didn’t know you could wrap eggs, sausage and hash browns in aluminum foil, toss it on a fire and have breakfast in a few minutes. Never caught fish let alone turn the fish into lunch, right there on the beach by wrapping the fish in foil and tossing it on the fire. Or made chicken stew in a Dutch over over a campfire.

Now all that is old news, but last weekend was our 1st trip off roading. During the build, The Girls were all sickly sweet looks and skeptical smiles but I knew they would enjoy the end results. Girl#2 has always been all about mechanical mayhem and I knew she would enjoy it. Girl#1 gets all smiley and pissed when I do burnouts on the bike or Mustang, but you can tell she loves it, embarrassed about loving it, but loves it, so I was pretty sure she would enjoy the off roading trip.

What I didn’t expect is how much they would enjoy it.

Now the truck isn’t the most radical off road ride but she’ll get the job done. And then some. I lifted it and all that kind of stuff but where I went a little off course is setting it up for camping. We have a camper shell on it, put a homemade rail system in the bed so we can store stuff and slide it all out when we need it and built a bedframe above that so we can sleep on a very comfy foam mattress. A roof rack holds the extra tires, fuel and what not, we can put two kayaks on top of the camper shell if we choose. It ain’t pretty but it’s gets the job done.

Girls eat up attention,and we got a lot of attention. The off road truck/ camper combo was a hit with the other people in the camp site, so was the dog. The Lady Pit is striking, with a big, big friendly personality. We cooked out, and in high fashion. Slept on a nice foam mattress, woke up and had those egg, sausage and hash brown bombs….. we were the talk of the camp ground and I could tell Girl#2 was eating it all up with a spoon, and Girl#1 was enjoying herself as well but in her more reserved manner.

Then we got on the trail. The 1st thing I did was some donuts in the mud, slinging that stuff everywhere while the dog tried to climb in my lap and The Girls laughed like fools. We ran two trails, and I let them run a beginner trail and they were all “we love you” and big smiles. And proud of themselves for driving their 1st off road course.

A week later and it’s about all they talk about.

From a Game perspective there is a lot going on; displays of mastery, demonstrating higher value, pre selection as the other girls at the camp flocked around the rig, talked up my cooking etc etc but but don’t ignore Cindy Lauper’s advice either

I have been deliberate in choosing the outdoor life. These things are fun but there is a larger purpose behind most of what I do. There are certain things I want my son’s to learn. About themselves and about the world, some of which can only be learned outdoors. Some things can only be learned in the ring, others in team sports but the boys are to young for the ring or the ball field.  There are family tradtions I want to preserve for another generation. Skill sets I dont want to see pass away. There are things I want them to do. I want my family to eat certian things and in certian ways. I want these things because they will make my boys better men. I was deliberate in choosing off-roading vs dirt bikes too. I prefer two wheels to 4 but it will be years before the boys can sit a bike but at this point it should all be fun

Have a mission, bend them to your will, have fun

Intelligence and tingles

For whatever vagaries of life, intelligence and tingles seems to have come up rather frequently. Mostly in comment sections, and mostly men bitching that women prefer less intelligent men, followed up with some speculation less intelligent men being easier for women to manipulate.

Betas should be very careful in how they word things as generally speaking, such bitching just makes them look like bitches. Any experienced man will be able to tell the difference between wondering about a topic and bitching. Anything close to bitching about bitches will have bitches labeling you as a bitch in nanoseconds.

Chicks dig masculinity. If you display your intelligence in a masculine manner, chicks will dig you. If you display your intelligence through nerd culture or lecturing regular folks about shit they don’t care about you’ll come across as beta, dorky or pretentious…. maybe all 3.  The smartest guy I know likes to lecture Star War nerds on why the science stuff in Star Wars is pure bullshit…..Yup he has to pay for pussy.

My grandfather had a PhD in physics. Way back when the atom still needed splitting, super nerds were working on that and my maternal grandfather was leading a Ranger platoon on D-Day. After that he became a rocket scientist. No shit. His area was guidance systems. In his days, most smart guys grew up on a farm. They had masculine bodies, masculine hands, masculine hobbies ( mine was into killing deer and hot rods) and mostly like had killed some kruts or japs… mine was apparently better at logistics and intell stuff.

Yes he was a math nerd but he also killed deer and duck when he got the chance, fixed all the shit around the house, built his own motors for his hot rods, witnessed a shit ton of nuclear tests and at work, the nerds built and installed the guidance systems. No farming out the grunt work

He was also a hard drinker, gambler and ladies man. In his younger days.

Today’s smart guys tend to be the biggest pussies imaginable. That’s on top of how soft most men seem to be in general. Also what you as a smart guy find intresting might not be of intrests to other folks around you. Especially women.

If you are an intelligent man and struggling with women, take an honest look at your life, hobbies and how you present yourself. That’s what’s holding you back. Not how smart you are.

Red Pill music

 

 

Ladies Love Outlaws”

Bessie was a lovely child from west Tennessee
Leroy was an outlaw wild as a mink
One day she saw him starin’ and it chilled her to the bone
And she knew she had to see that look on a child of her own.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Linda was a lady blonde and built to last
Benny was a no good guitar picker runnin’ from his past
She heard all of his songs tellin’ nothin’ but bad news
But she made her mind up to try to get him win or lose.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Jessi like the Cadillacs and diamonds on her hands
Waymore had a reputation as a ladie’s man
Late one night a light of love finally gave a sign
Jessi parked her Cadillac and took her place in line.

‘Cause ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul.

Ladies love outlaws like babies love stray dogs
Ladies touch babies like a banker touches gold
And outlaws touch the ladies
Somewhere deep down in their soul…

Cut off and happy

I loved watching the storm last night. I opened all three French doors, pulled the recliner over, grabbed a bottle of apple wine, put my Lady Pit in my lap and settled in. The Girls slid up next to me before long.

I am, at this moment, physically cut off from the rest of the world. Its a good feeling. The road that takes us from my little sliver of the inter-coastal waterways to the main land is under water. Not sure how deep, don’t much care, but it’s a couple hundred feet wide. Don’t much care about that either. If I did, I’d put my kayak in the water and find out the depth, maybe find the road under the water, mark the path and drive my truck into town. If driving to town is posdible. Doesn’t seem to be much of a current but if there was, it woukd only take me to town. Which I am happy enough to be separated from.

It’s a peaceful easy feeling. We lost power some time back. Made our inlet nice and quiet. Of sorts. The storm was noisy, but there is no hum from the refrigerator either. I have a generator. Haven’t used it yet. I am enjoying the sounds of nature, family and my neighbors to much. Maybe I’ll crank it up when I run out of ice. Yeti coolers are money, so maybe I won’t run out of ice.

I was up early as I always am and the 1st thing I noticed (beyond the Hell jounds and the Girls) was the silence. No wind, no rain, no sound from the refrigerator. Quick check of the house while Girl glares and my Lady Pit bounces around. Neither would go out for the bathroom in the rain. Ton Spawn was sleeping in, the storm kept him up, the house was intact.

The water is high, maybe 5 ft, right at the edge of our retaining wall and over lapping my dock. We use to be surrounded by wet lands. To our front, the river/ bay, ocean and one of our larger and more popular barrier island. Which i am sure did its protecting us from the wind and storm surge. On the other three sides was wet lands and a road. Now  they are under Lord only knows how much water. I climbed up to the roof/ bbq area of my boat shed and checked out my street. We all did well. The one tree in my street, happens to be in my yard, fell. Ground was to wet to hold it, and it fell across the street. Not much of a tree or obstacle but since you can’t really drive around it now, it needed to be #1 on my to do list. Our little road was cut, and since no one was hurt, or in immediate danger, restoring our high speed avenues of approach became the priorty #1.

I love the silence. We are always quiet,  but this morning it was silent. I wanted to keep it going so I used a pocket saw instead of a chain saw. Made two cuts, which made three peices of tree and cleared the road. A short walk took me tout the next obstacle. Water. The road was cut at the community boat ramp. Not much one can do about that so I turned around and walked back.

And I do have power of sorts. Couple solar panels, couple of deep cycle marine batteries and we have been keeping our phones and tablets fully charged. Could do the same with either the truck or the SUV, but I haven’t cranked either. My neighbors have. In fact the guy at the far end of the road has a small generator going. I hear it occasionally and he came by to let us know we could stash food in his freezer, charge our phones etc. Which we took advantage of. The food storing.

He laughed when I told  him I had a generator but wasn’t using it. They all think I am crazier then a shit house rat but seem to enjoy my company any which way

I did cook for everyone earlier today. By God’s good graces we don’t have much clean up to do. Us even less because I stashed most of our stuff. Nothing major, burgers and dogs, some chicken and fish. Stuff we needed to cook before it went bad. I cooked, kept an eye on some older kids and drank slightly chilled homemade wine while they all worked.

One of the other guys tried to AMOG me.  Some lame joke about me cooking and baby sitting. I laughed, said I didn’t want to break a nail and took a long pull off my bottle of wine. Amature. There he was picking up various bits of debris,  there I was enjoying myself, grilling, drinking and watching the kids and dogs run.

It’s a pretty good life

Truly we are blessed

Life is funny. I could tell the road being cut bothered some people. A quick plan, made up on the fly settled them down. Overt displays of masculine confidence and mastery over the world around you always settles the bitches. Of both sexes. The Girls slid up next to me after the ad-hoc meeting. Daddy likes

All the shit I have on hand for emergencies and I’m not really using any of it. It’s been a very mild disaster for us. More like camping at home. I could be bossier, but why?

I had some regular non treated 2×4’s stashed in the rafters of my garage. A little work with a hand saw and now we have some fire wood. I invited the neighborhood over, all 5 families but not sure any will show up.

Almost everything amuses me. This storm hasn’t been any different on that front. Was interesting watching the Betas be stoic and sort of flippant about the storm. Good, strong  family men. Yeoman worthy of the tittle. The kids have had a blast. My Lady Pit has run wild today because there is no place for her to run off to now that we are a mini island. She has knocked all the kids down at least once. On purpose each time. Girl hasn’t left Ton Spawn or the Girls alone. She sticks to them like glue these days.  I can tell the other dudes wives are happy. Their men were right, no need to evacuate, they can now rest in the strength and decsion making skills of their man. Lest for a few days.

Everyone enjoyed that feeling you get when things are better in the morning. I could tell they all took pride and enjoyment out of cleaning up after the storm, pride and enjoyment in the various clever tricks they came up with to over come the obstacles of having no power, running water and what not. Plus the shared experience of sheltering in place

Time to go put sauce on the chicken and check my trout line before it’s fire pit, wine and pitching woo time

I know many folks are suffering right now, but the Lord was kind to me and mine last night.

Y’all take care now