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Monday, December 31, 2012

Christmas is over... I survived and I feel much better for it.

So, I just kind of fell off the map during "The Holidays."  I'm not certain how to explain it without sounding whiny, but I must say, I'm now feeling full of stuff to say.

Christmas is what we celebrate in my family.  I'm not any sort of scholar of any religious belief and I am certainly not going to try to be one now.  Of course, it is encompassed with a religious overtone and I stick to the more modern day Pseudo-Christian evolution of this seasonal celebration.  Many friends of mine celebrate Hanukkah (any way you spell it) so I am somewhat familiar with that though extremely ignorant.

For the sake of this blog, I will discuss the "Holiday" in line with what Christmas has become for me.  Again, I may be whiny as I am not certain where I am going with this this early on in today's post; sorry.

"When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child....."  It was wonderful!

As a kid, Christmas was the pivotal day of the year.  However, contrary to that statement, it wasn't a particular day for my family.  Sure, it was "December 25th" for us as it was for anyone, but outside of any religious significance, it was just a day. 

Dad was in the Navy and often away under the waves for long periods.  Our family celebration of Christmas typically happened whenever his boat returned to port which was never on time.  Sometimes, we didn't celebrate Christmas until January.  So, the holiday season became a time for us to share with our family.  Of course, that's what it is supposed to be about for everyone, a time for family.  That's just my version of how I learned that.  It was not so much for the day (again outside of any religious expectation) but more of a season often spent waiting for Dad to come home.

Now, there is absolutely no denying that I started looking forward to December 25th each year moments after I opened my last present on whatever day we celebrated Christmas.  I can remember digging into a Lego set some time in the 80's thinking "next year I'll have enough to rule the world!!!" or something like that.  It is just a common part of Kid-dom... PRESENTS!!!!

I do like how parents can tell you "remember the reason for the season" in the weeks leading up to Christmas, but a few months before that they also say, "Remember, Santa is watching!!!"  These both kind of cancel each other out in the whole "what is Christmas all about" dilemma society has with Christmas.  So as a kid, you rule out all of the politics and controversy and IT'S ALL ABOUT THE PRESENTS!!!!

I didn't get a lot each Christmas, but I got enough to be grateful.  As a child, I don't think I truly appreciated our one day of gift giving (GETTING) and our family time that we shared; I did not know how good I had it.

As an adult, I look back at that time together and think "Thank You!"



"But when I became a man, I put away childish things."  I had to.

Growing up was forced upon me and at times, I honestly resent it even though it came later in life.

Christmas 1987 was the first "difficult" Christmas I can recall.  I was a bag boy at a grocery store, living at home with my folks and I could hardly wait for the next August knowing I would be moving away for college or whatever! 

Christmas Eve was spent working in the grocery store.  We closed early but before we could leave we had to clean up and stock the shelves.  However, my routine was disrupted when my siblings came knocking on the store front and spoke to my manager.  I had to leave urgently.

Dad was in an ICU... something about his heart. 

I don't recall every detail, but it was during those hours that I started thinking as an adult about Christmas.  It dawned on me that I wanted to be with my family, moving away wasn't such a necessity and "Oh God, please don't take Dad on Christmas!"

It turned out to be not so bad.  As I recall, he spent a night or two in the hospital and was home either Christmas Day or the next.  I'm surprised I don't remember more.  I moved away the following August.

Throughout college, I celebrated the holidays with friends and classmates.  They became an extended family, but I was always back with my family at Mom and Dad's for Christmas. 

1993 was a rough Christmas but only because of real life.  I was out of school and had a job.  I worked until Midnight on Christmas Eve televising a church service.  I would continue to do this for the next 12 years of my life.  In fact, that Christmas Eve Church service eventually became part of my personal Christmas Holiday.  I looked forward to it.  I also looked forward to the overly indulgent Christmas Eve Dinner my co-workers and I would have from McDonald's each year.  These are great memories!

So, December 25 1993, I went to bed at 1 am.  I got up around 6 am and drove a friend of mine to his family's house 2.5 hours Southeast from where I live.  I dropped him off by 10 and drove the 1.5 hours north from his place to my folks house.  I was home for about 5 hours when I drove the 2 hours west back to my apartment and returned to work by 10 that night.  This was my life.  It was worth it.  It was Christmas!

1994 hurt.  I left my job right after our church service and drove to my folks.  I actually ended up staying with a relative in his newly built home.  It was nice.  We woke up that morning very early to the phone call stating that my Grandmother had just died.  On Christmas?  We spent most of our Christmases with her and my Grandfather.  We usually travelled  to their house in Florida for Christmas but now that she had become ill, they had moved up to live near my folks. 

I could not imagine Christmas being such a joy ever again.  It was.

Within a year I had met someone and my life would be forever changed (good and bad of course).  So from 1995 to 2005 I had my routine... Christmas Eve Church Broadcast (McDonald's Dinner)... Christmas morning with her family (as they lived in town) and either Christmas night or the day after at my folks.  It was wonderful.

In 2004 it became the most wonderful time of my life as that was the first Christmas with my daughter and with a complete family of my own.  I did not think life could get any better.

I was right.

2005 was still a wonderful Christmas and at this point in my life, it was the last complete Christmas I ever had.  Sometimes, I wish I had known in advance that it was going to be the last one I'd spend with my Dad.

There was a parallel I have thought of about me and Dad:  it was not "Christmas" until he got home.  Then I was the only one to move away.  Ever since, Mom has held out Christmas until I got home.

Christmas 2006 was when it truly hit me that Dad was gone.  He had been gone for 9 months by the time the holiday rolled around but it was nothing without him.  It was empty.  My God, Mom lost HER MOM on Christmas day and there I was moping about losing Dad 9 months earlier.  It was painful.  I was depressed; the whole family was. 

2007 had potential, but something in my own home was wrong and I didn't know what.  It was an uncomfortable Christmas.  My wife had spent more on my Christmas gifts than anyone ever had before in my life and it just got to the point of feeling awkward.  We separated just before Christmas 2008.

Since then, Christmas has become a painful few weeks.  Who am I to mope, I know I still have it better than a majority of the world but it is no longer what I was trained to believe in.  It is supposed to be a time for family, but my family has split.  I spend the holiday either alone waiting for my child to come home or I spend it with her knowing how let down I am going to be when she has to leave.

But it is still a beautiful time.  It is still an incredible season to try to believe in.  We find a way to enjoy some of it.  I don't need presents.  I want nothing that can be wrapped.  I appreciate anything I received of course, but that is no longer the point.

For me, it has become a season of wishing for peace.  I always thought that the whole "Peace on Earth" thing was to stop war but I now I think it is a time to find an inner peace among all of us.  Sure there is a religious aspect to it all and we all want to be with family, but you cannot always be with family.  And as you lose family, you have to find a way to cherish them during this season.

It is a time that I have to make myself be grateful for what I have and who I have in my life.  It is tough.

Granted for my child, it is a dream of loot!  Unfortunately she is not going to grow up with the stable family tradition I grew up with.  Fortunately for her (I guess) she doesn't seem to know the difference. 

This year alone, she had a night at my house before Christmas opening gifts with the children of a lady-friend of mine (mrrrowwwrrr).  Then a few days later she had a gift opening with her step-family out of state.  On Christmas Day she opened gifts in three different houses with her Mom.  The day after she had Christmas with me and some family at my house and then again the next day at My Moms.

Yes, she knows that there is a strong "Religious" purpose for the season, and she is often sad about growing up in two houses, especially during the holidays, but let's face it... PRESENTS!!!!

It was not lost on her that she had seven different places or times to open gifts.  Coincidentally, she honestly asked me why we don't celebrate the 9 days of Hanukkah.

Yeah, I think she's planning something...

Friday, December 21, 2012

And so this is the apocalypse and what have you done...

Okay, I've been away for a bit.  I'm sorry.... I'm willing to bet that you're okay.

What with staving off a cold and dealing with the holiday season and all the emotional ups and downs that come with these two things, I was kind of looking forward to the apocalypse.  Okay, not really, but how can I avoid the fanfare and bandwagoning that this day brings?

It just seems so unoriginal and somewhat odd that people actually looked forward to this day.  It is almost as though everyone was making such a big fuss about it because, well, what if it really was going to happen?  Man, can you imagine how silly you'd feel if the world was blowing up around you and you were the only person among your peers who told everyone that they were "complete idiots festooned with internal dunce caps eclipsing what limited intelligence they once had" for believing in such a thing?

Instead, if you just joked about the end of the world coming today and commented about it constantly, everyone would know that either a.) when the world actually did end today that you really were a genius, or b.) HAH, you're such the comedian.

As many of you have, I've witnessed several of these "final" days and at least one of them was taken quite seriously.  It was quite frustrating for me was when I had to be at work on January 1st, 2000 at 5 am to be ready to broadcast news of the end of the world.  Seriously, that was normally a morning off for those of us on the morning shift of live television.  We always had a holiday on Jan 1 and got to party it up hard and stay up late on New Years Eve. 

On a side note, when you work the morning shift in television and have to be in before 5 am every day, staying up "late" for you is typically 9-ish in the PM.  So staying up past midnight is a great accomplishment.

Unfortunately we (me and my crew) had to be at the office by 5 am to report what was expected to be the end of the world due to the failure of all modern technology.  I saw irony in this.  We were supposed to use technology (our computers and all of our computerized broadcasty thingys) to tell everyone that none of their technology was working so they would most likely be dead in any minute.

"What's the point" I thought at 12am that morning as I opened another beer.

So, starting at 5am on January 1st, there were about 10 or 15 or so hung over individuals just lounging about with not so much to do.  Every once in a while we would "cut in" to our network programming to say something like "everything seems to be working... if you are experiencing any technological failures and you cannot see this report, please call us and let us know, in the meantime, here's the weather guy!"

But this happens all the time. 

People constantly think the world is going to end... tomorrow. 

I first learned about this when I watched Poltergeist 2 which was about that weird Pepperidge Farm looking guy convincing all of his followers to bury themselves in a cave because, you guessed it, the world's totally ending soon.  Of course the world didn't end so he had to go door to door and haunt people...
"Good afternoon, can I interest you in a Milano Cookie? 
Oh yeah, if you don't buy one, I'm TOTALLY coming back!"
Needless to say, that movie and that guy in particular gave me nightmares.  But I sure do love his cookies!

So yeah, that freaked me out in middle school and then I started learning about Nostradamus and fortune tellers who kept on predicting the end of the world.  WHY DO THEY KEEP DOING THAT?  Seriously, is there some sort of room in the after-life where all the doomsayers are gathered playing some sort of Apocalypse Lottery?  What do they get if they win?

"Congratulations Nostro....you win the LAST BOX OF TWINKIES!!!!"

So, in short, look at this:


I so love the look on this guys face!

This happened back in either 1988 or 1989.  I love the very first line that says,

"... the most amazing thing about today is that it arrived."

My mother cut this out and sent it to me when I was in college.  She mailed me many newspaper clippings over the years.  My Mom, in fact, most of my family, for that matter, has a GREAT sense of humor!

No disrespect for the South Koreans because every culture tends to do this all the time, but I just wonder if this particular guy is still to this day lounging about thinking "what the hell man?" 

I'm sure he's probably saying that, but in Korean.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Sick Day...

One of the worst things about taking a sick day from work, other than the whole "being sick" part of it, is how good you tend to feel while you sit home idle, doing nothing.

You sit at work one day coughing "stuff" up and dealing with a runny nose.  You're eyes are burning, your lungs are irritated then you get the chills and you have some nausea.  It's not stomach bug nausea but it's the whole "what the hell did my sinuses just pass down the back of my throat" type nausea.  I'm sorry if that's a bit graphic but it's true.  I'm somewhat convinced that ingesting large amounts of mucus is probably not ideal for my stomach!  There's that gross "bit graphic" I was referring to before.... My apologies, again...

So, there you are sitting at work dealing with all of the symptoms and having that whole internal battle with yourself of "I'm dying" versus "No you're not it's either allergies or a cold; don't be stupid.... of course you won't know for sure until you either die or you don't!" 

And you cave in when you realize that:
  1. You feel like hell
  2. Your productivity is really falling quickly
  3. Your co-workers don't deserve to have to deal with all of the obnoxious bodily functions of yours that are suddenly in overdrive
  4. Your co-workers don't need to catch whatever you have if it's catchable
  5. Your co-workers DON'T WANT YOU THERE
  6. Yup, you're dying
So, you slip out of the office when you've had enough and completed all of your necessary work.

That night you take a handful of pills and sprays that some guy you know, who talked to a girl he knows, who just met up someone, who spoke to a pharmacy tech who's studying to be a pharmacist (but really wants to act), recommended for each individual symptom you have, sort of.  And now you've just started your very own private rave in your house.  At least, it felt that way.  You're now exhausted from coughing so much all day but you're FREAKIN' WIRED from all of the meds that are apparently designed to give you enough jitters to simply shake the bad germs out of your system.

You go to bed and stare for a few hours.

Eventually you get up and you know for certain you'll be dead by noon.  It's only five am so it probably isn't the best time to start texting or calling a co-worker or two.  You wait until 5:15 to tell them.  They don't care.  More than anything, they're just happy you're staying away from them.  They are TOTALLY going to talk about you today and most likely assume you are lying....

You have a cup of coffee to start your day and promptly fall asleep for the best 2 hours of sleep you've had all night.  Why did the coffee that usually keeps you up put you to sleep?  It's obvious... YOU'RE DYING!!!

When you wake back you feel somewhat refreshed.  You go to your favorite chair in the living room and you sit and watch tv for a few hours.  And suddenly it dawns on you, "Holy Crap!  I feel GREAT!"

You sit there and run that through your head for a bit.... Is this the peaceful feeling before dying?  Am I really lying?  Did I jitter out all of the bad germs?  What was in that coffee?

And then you do what EVERYBODY always does when they are either in denial that something is wrong, embarrassed that they might really be sick or "HAVEN'T GOT TIME TO BE SICK!!!"  You start doing stuff... What the hell is your problem?

After about five minutes, you suddenly realize that it was the whole calm before the storm thing and you probably have about 5 minutes to live.

That's when you decide it's time go lay back down and stop blogging .... for five minutes.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Sometimes, Rhyming is HARD!

I sat at home and tried to write.
But in my brain there was a fight.
The couch was cozy it just felt right.
What would I do on this here night?

With my laptop sitting by my side
I told myself "I'll write!" I lied.
I stared upon my twinkling keys
and pulled the blanket above my knees.

It felt so good, I felt so warm.
The breeze outside was a chilly swarm.
So I got cozy and planned to write
But instead I pulled that blanket tight.

Above my chest the blanket rose
which complimented the warmth of my clothes.
My laptop sat there all aglow
but my eyelids started getting low.

The puppy watched me from the floor.
She willed me to take her out the door.
I tried to stand but the blanket led
It pulled me back to the couch instead.

As I propped my feet on the couch down there
I felt a pillow brush my hair
I realized I was now reclined.
"This cannot be... I have not dined!"

And so I lay there, warm and cozy
and on tv was my favorite show(zy)
I felt I was starting not to care
For a night to relax is seldom and rare.

So my laundry sat out unwashed and scattered
and dirty dishes by the sink just sat there all splattered.
The puppy gave up and laid on the floor
she had lost all interest in going outside the door.

Cozy in my blanket wrapped like a cocoon
I noticed my laptop had moved across the room.
"How could that be" I stared in wonder
And the blanket got tighter just pulling me under.

My couch was so cozy like a heavenly cloud
I convinced myself reclining was all my blanket allowed.
I had no control in my blankets tight grasp.
I opted to complete not one nightly task!

And so I did nothing I just sat there and stared.
For reclining and relaxing was all that I cared.
So close to two hours I lay there all lazy.
Happily doing nothing while my eyes got all glazy.

I finally broke free of my blankets crude hold.
"But that's all I wanna do" myself I had told.
I let the dog out while I cleared my foggy head.
"I know what I'll do!  I'm GOING TO BED!!!"

The puppy came in and I turned off the lights.
I'm sure in her eyes I was a hell of a sight.
And so we curled up in bed at the ripe hour of nine.
"This sure is early" I thought "and that's fine."

More than nine hours of sleep I got in my bed.
I could not believe how clear was my head.
I remembered things like where I put my keys.
I found lost socks and shoes, "oh this is the bees knees!"

Oh, sleep how I've missed you! I feel energized!
Last night I just wanted to curl up and die.
But now I'm all perked, swimming through my house like the fishes.
Then I got to the kitchen "OH CRAP, there's the dishes!"

Now I have much to do, as I did nothing last night.
But It was all I had hoped for, in my blanket so tight.
So it's morning and once again life feels right.
And I have finally managed to focus and write!



Yup, that's all I got for you.  I don't want to hear any complaints about "showzy" and "bees knees!!!"

Friday, December 7, 2012

"Swine Job" Part III

Yes, this became a three part story.  Part 1; Part 2
Yes, I am amazed at how much I've had to say about this.
No, you're not a bad person if you gave up already.
However, I promise you that you will be thoroughly entertained closer to the end of this particular post thus making it all worth it.

To recap, NINETEEN YEARS AGO:
  1. I had a part time job in college
  2. I didn't like it
  3. I did not respect it
  4. I was out "sick" often
  5. I was let go
  6. They didn't tell me why
  7. I can assume why
  8. Out of desperation, I took a job as a cook in a fast food barbecue joint
  9. It was awful
  10. I hated that job too
  11. I learned a lesson
At the BBQ place, there were two particular days that I hated the more than ever and on one of those days I actually tried to get myself fired.  I failed at getting fired.  I think they were very grateful to have me (or more like anybody) in that position.

The first "worst day" I had was when I came walking out of the kitchen, during the lunch rush, covered in a coat of my glistening pig balm (I'm tired of typing "fat") carrying a tray of chop when I saw three of my former co-workers just staring at me in awe.  I had never told them where I was working after that day I was "mysteriously" let go.  I did not want them to know how low I had fallen. 

They did not know what to say, but I could tell by the looks on their faces that they did in fact know how far I had fallen.  They just smiled politely all wide eyed and confused and simply said "hi." 

I fell lower.  I can only hope that they saw me in my lowness, learned from my pain and never missed a day of work ever ever again!!!

The second worst day and the day I tried to get myself fired was just an intense and stressful day in the barbecue world.  It was... A Sunday!!!  Everyone comes by after church lets out.  So, by noon we're busy, by one we're swamped and by two, we're just lucky if we can keep up.

It was on this day that the manager straight out of college who didn't handle pressure well (mentioned in Part 2) snapped.  And I snapped right back at him.

I was in the kitchen alone trying to chop ham as fast as I could and turn it into fat free fat laden chop.  Out front the cashiers were taking orders as fast as they could.  I felt like they were messing with me.

The manager kept coming in to check on me, criticizing my speed in my 100+ degree kitchen but refused to offer any help.   I resented that just a bit.

It was not a big restaurant and although the kitchen was hardly visible from the dining area, you could hear everything going on in there throughout the building.  So, every employee and customer knew that the service was slow and that the manager was blaming the one guy in the kitchen.

As if to get his point across more clearly, the manager got onto the intercom and announced over the store p.a. "we need more chop from the kitchen please" only seconds after walking away from me.  My blood was boiling.  I immediately brought out what I had ready.  As I was putting the tray into the serving bin for the food prep folks, the manager got back on the intercom, standing maybe three feet away from me, looking at me and announced again over the p.a. "we need MORE chop!"

This is when I snapped. 

See, this wasn't my career choice by any means.  I was actually working this job whilst fulfilling my internship at a television station; a station which had mentioned to me that that may hire me in a month when my internship ended.  In fact, a month later they did hire me (sort of) and I ended up working there for the next thirteen years.  I say sort of, because the guy who hired me never told me that he had hired me.  He just started putting me on the schedule and never thought to inform me of such.  About two weeks later I called the station to thank my internship advisor who's first words on the phone with me were "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?  THEY'RE GOING TO FIRE YOU IF YOU DON'T COME IN TODAY" to which I replied "What, I was hired?  I never even applied?"

Anyway, I could have cared less about the barbecue job.  I had only stuck it out so long because of my new found work ethic.  I HATED THIS JOB!!!  I had tried so hard to respect it, but at that very moment, I hated it enough to do this:


I hope the pictures make this so much cuter!
I was not in a good place.

That's me re-enacting what I pretty much yelled as I walked back into the kitchen to make more chop.  Oh yes, everybody in the restaurant could hear me as I called for the piggie and oinked back to myself a downright cute and precious little piggie response.  As I slammed the cleaver on the chopping block and made little piggie screams I felt a warmth in my heart like no other.

Eventually, shortly after the piggie screams started, the manager came running into the kitchen and skidded across the floor as he slipped in pig fat... "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!" He enthusiastically enquired in a panicked furor.

"I'M GETTIN' YOU MORE CHOP BOSS MAN" I replied followed by a few more cleaver thumps and piggie screams......... 

I was sent home to think about what I had done. 

I still think about it to this very day. 

They actually did not fire me or take any action against me other than to send me home that day, which is honestly all I really wanted.  In fact, they asked me to stay on after I graduated in a few months.  I politely told them "NO!!!."

I had learned that summer that as an employee you should not take any job for granted.  Likewise, I also learned that as an employer, you should not take your employees for granted.  In that one year I seriously grew up so much... no... seriously!

The next job I had was in my chosen career and when I left that job thirteen years later it was for personal growth and on good terms (I hope).

I still cannot eat at my former barbecue restaurant even though they're still around.

I do make really good barbecue though.  I think it's because I talk so nicely to my piggies!


Wednesday, December 5, 2012

"Swine Job" Part II

In a recent post I told you about how in 1992 I took a lackluster job printing for a large business.  It was something like being Michael J. Fox working in the mail room in the movie Secret of My Success in that it was absolutely nothing like that, but I liked to think of myself as Michael J. Fox whenever I was at work; that was my "happy place."

I wasn't at work as often as I should have been. 

Now, much to my chagrin, in that "job" where five of us did the job of one and we took turns each day with one of us working and the rest of us not, I was very bored and unsatisfied.  I was absent, quite frequently.  I justified my absences in that I wasn't goofing off, I was probably working somewhere else and I only called in on the days I wasn't supposed to be working.  I mean, yeah, I should have been at work, but as I mentioned before, just because we were at work, it didn't mean we were "working."

Also, I will remind you that this was a "budgeted" position that tied up money for this company until they found somewhere better to use it.

With all of that, I could completely justify my slack attitude, but in all honesty and hindsight, I handled it irresponsibly, I took it for granted and did not appreciate how lucky I was to have a job that worked with my school schedule.

Sooooo, after, nine months of me calling in sick roughly 4 times a month, I was "let go."  I like to think that it was because they finally found a purpose for my income and since I was the last hired I was the first.  However, it was most likely the absence thing.  Honestly, they never told me.  I got to work one morning (after an unscheduled day off) and the only other person in the office told me "We have to let you go.  We'll mail you your check."  They did.  It was short one day.  To this day, I do not know if I was fired or laid off. 

Regardless, I had learned a valuable life lesson in that I have since opted to respect all aspects of a legitimate job and not abuse my workplace (or co-workers).  The rude awakening really helped me grow up and build a work ethic fast... granted, it took some time to sink in.

I then spent two weeks unemployed and I have not had two weeks off since that time back in 1993.

By the end of those two weeks, I had become desperate and was willing to take any job out there.  I did just that.

Now, here's where I point out how much I hate the whole "twisting the knife" thing that happens sometimes.  You know where you screw up, get punished and then someone (perhaps your sister) keeps reminding you and everyone how much you screwed up and ergo they drag out your suffering for a bit.

Well, that is EXACTLY what fate had in store for me.

As if to drive home how much I had screwed up a good "cushy" job, the only job I could find next was as a cook in a fast food barbecue restaurant.  I'm not knocking either fast food or barbecue jobs, but if you put them together in one place... well, that's what I'm knocking!!!

The interview was odd at best.  It was as if I had walked into an Über Christian cult homestead (you decide what that looks like for yourself) with sky blue walls and people in sky blue and white suits walking around talking very softly.  It was the kind of room where you'd expect to find a Jim Bakker type curled up in a ball crying, next to a Jessica Hahn type.  Also there was Christian and Confederate literature on a counter by the front door. 

Outside the door it was the smokey parking lot of a barbecue restaurant.  Inside the door, it was all that in the last paragraph, plus some sort of joyful noise elevator music being played throughout the office.  It made me dizzy trying to comprehend it all, but I didn't care.  I needed a job!

I got the job.

They assigned me to a "Store" not too far from my residence and they taught me the basics.  Pretty much I shoveled hot cinders out from the bottom of a fire box and put those cinders into the bottom of one of three ovens.  The three ovens were all built together with the firebox.  It was all really well done.  Each oven had I think four racks that could hold something like 3 to 4 hams and had doors that were six to eight inches thick.  Flames from the top of the fire box rushed over the top of each oven.  So there was hot cinders at the bottom and fire at the top cooking the hams from both sides.

This was good stuff!  And the hickory smoke smelled good.... for about a day.  Eventually everything I owned smelled like smoked hickory.  Great when you're hanging with the guys.  Bad way to find a date.

I do not recall how long we slow roasted these things, but when they were ready, the meat would literally fall off the bone.  Then I was trained to carefully cut away all the fat and then chop up all the meat.  From then on it was referred to as chop. I learned to hate chop!

Oh yeah, we even advertised that we cut out the fat but after a few weeks on the job I was informed by my manager, and personally by the owner, to stop cutting out the fat.  Soooo, the fat stayed in. 

Did you ever see that scene in Carrie where she had all of that "stuff" dumped on her at the prom?  Well, here is a bad rendition of it.  I felt like that every day.  Not that I was covered in pig blood, but the fat.  SO. MUCH. FAT!!!  Seriously, I looked like I was trying to tap into my Italian roots my hair was so slicked back by the end of the day.  I do that intentionally some days, but not with pig fat.  It was awful.

This was a family owned business and the owners daughter was our assistant manager.  She was a very nice lady as I recall.  I think she resented that other men were hired to be managers above her, but these were guys with Business Degrees straight out of college.  I'm not kidding.  Manager's had to have a college degree.  However, they weren't family so they rotated a lot. 

We had one manager who was remarkably passionate about the place.  It was as though he had been brain washed to worship this place.  However, he didn't handle stress well and one day, he pushed me hard.  I'll get to that part later; essentially, I snapped and did one of the funniest things I've ever done in the work place and to this day I am amazed I did not get fired (again, later)!

We had another assistant manager who totally sexually harassed me.  I was 100% A OK with this! Kinda... She was a temptress and as country as the day is long (I don't what/ if that means anything, but it sounds country).  She was a little farmers daughter cutey and if she ever needed me to do something for her, she would catch me in the freezer, corner me and flirt.  She was married and absolutely nothing ever happened, but damned if I could resist doing her favors.  I'd get cornered and suddenly I was unloading pickles from shelves....  I dunno... She might've been a Jedi.  Maybe she liked her men slathered up in pig fat?

There were also a few college kids like me.  We were all very confused and broken.

Now I must say, I was equally inspired and confused by the man who managed the kitchen.  He was a black man and was in his fifty's.  He had been in the south his entire life and had grown up during the civil rights movement.  He had seen the worst of human prejudice and had lived through a time that I can never understand.  He had dealt with a pain that I am blessed to have never dealt with.  As much as I could empathize with him, I could never truly comprehend how he grew from his experiences.

Working in this kitchen, that I hated so, was his greatest accomplishment.  As he would say it, "Look at me look at me... when I was just a boy I wasn't allowed to come in the restaurant.  I could only order from the back door.  But now... now I manage the kitchen!  Look at me look at me.  Thank you Lord!"  I could never forget that.  His joy was the only thing that helped me stay focused in what I thought was an awful job.  To him it was a Major Victory.  He was David and this place was Goliath. 

I would honestly think that in that situation I would want nothing to do with the place.  I would leave it alone and let it rot.  But not him.  He needed his victory and his victory would hopefully inspire someone and heal old wounds.  It inspired me and I know that I could never truly understand his perspective, but I respected it.

And that was the only serious thing I ever felt in this job.  But I tried my best to display an ethic.  I only worked there for one summer and I never called in sick once... but I hated every day.

And once again, I have spouted off too much and must give you a break.  I am sorry that this has become a three parter, but I promise you that it is worth it... I'm going to try something new in my next post.

Try to contain your excitement!!!

Monday, December 3, 2012

The more I try, the more I have to do....

You know how you don't want to touch any of your wood furniture for fear that you'll make a cleans spot and then you'll have to clean all of the dust off of of everything?   The same goes with making a clean square foot on your child's bedroom floor. 

It often simply doesn't seem worth the effort.  If you make one clean spot then the rest looks messy and altogether crappy and then you have to do work.

So, I raked my yard yesterday. 

The leaves were like four to six inches deep in my backyard thanks to the two pecan trees and one pine in the back, plus an uncountable amount of azaleas and other weeds that have grown into full blown shrubs!

I started the backyard at 7:30 am and raked 14 massive piles.  The spaces between the piles looked FABULOUS!!!  As long as the piles were still there.

Honestly, I thought my yard looked great before raking.  I like walking through the thick leaves on the ground.  It feels as though I am walking through the forest on a cool fall day.  But, as it is my yard (and not a forest) and I have neighbors, I had to rake.

I loaded each pile into my garbage can and rolled them out to the curb in my front yard.  I managed to get 1.5 to 2.5 piles into each load.  I made a pile that was initially 4-5 feet tall in spots and over 10 feet long.  I say initially because once the leaves settled after a few hours, the pile was down to about 3 feet high.

Upon finishing removing all the piles, I surveyed my handiwork.  My yard now looks trashy to me.  There are small leaves casually strewn across my yard now.  These were the stragglers that slipped out and got away during my work.  It's too much to go back and get them and I don't own a lawn vacuum; yes, they make those. 

So, now I can see the trashy leaves on my grass, whereas before all I saw was a thick bed of leaves and no grass.  The grass I do see now is browning and not necessarily a consistent pretty green.  Of course there are green splotches, but that simply adds to the now trashy look I have created for myself. 

It's heartbreaking I tell you.

The front yard was just coated in a light dusting of oak leaves and the occasional magnolia leaf.  I used my lawn mower to suck up most of those leaves and redistribute what it could not catch.  No, a blower is not an option for me. 

So, I raked my yard to make it better.  Now it looks worse to me although I am sure it is better off.  On top of this, I am sore and I have blisters on my hands because, perhaps I am a big Nancy boy....

I walked into my house broken, sore, exhausted and distraught and saw some toys on my daughters bedroom floor and some clothes on her bed.  I left them there.  They looked fine the way they were.  god knows what I'll find underneath them...

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Swine Job!!!

I've been reflecting a lot on my past lately.  In fact, I reflect on my past all the time.  So, I could've written this a long time ago and you'd be none the wiser.  So, you just gotta have faith that I wrote this recently.  Because, I totally did! 

It doesn't matter when I wrote this... seriously... I'm moving on!

I learn from most of my past mistakes.  Unfortunately, I cannot forget them.  I'd like to have my brain remember the importance of the lesson learned but forget the consequences that got me there. 

But that's not my point.

I'm going to tell you a story that taught me a valuable lesson about being employed.

In 1992, as a college student, I got a job out of necessity. The Production Studio I was working at had gone out of business, and that wasn't my fault.  So, I went to the campus career center and looked for a job.  I saw one that seemed to work with my schedule and I called the number.  They told me to come in at 9 AM the next day.

At 9 AM I showed up for the interview and they had someone give me a tour of the facility explaining what we did.  I was shown where micro-fiche was printed every hour, where the film had to be delivered throughout the building and then where all of the items that had to be printed on paper and distributed each day were collected, "burst," "enveloped" and shipped.   I was taking this "tour" for almost two hours before I realized I was not on an introduction to my interview but that I had actually been hired and was already on the clock.

I was surprised as this made me the fifth person in the department to do a job that one person could do easily.  I knew right then and there that I was not a necessary employee.  I was just a body meant to fill a budgeted position until the monies poured (more like dripped) in to that position were needed to be utilized in some other manner.  This made sense to me, but I did not respect it.

So, I did not show this job any manner of respect.  I did what was asked of me when I was there and I collected my check.  However, the key phrase was "when I was there!"  I worked three other jobs, or, should I say, I had three other sources of income at the time, of which all were musical.  I was a paid member in a church choir, I ran a sound system for my school and I was in a rock band.  In my mind, those were all more important than the stable but pointless day job I had just started.

I went on about my life as responsible as a 21 year old in a rock band could go, while working in a job he had absolutely no care for.  Seriously, there were five of us to do this mundane job and each day we took turns working.  One of us would work one day while the other four sat at a table and either read or did homework.  So, I called in sick... almost once a week.  I was irresponsible and damn near useless.  Again, I did not respect the job.

Lo and Behold, after about nine months of this, I was let go!  "Screw them," I thought, "I don't need that job"  I knew!!!

I was soooooo wrong.  It turns out, that right when they let me go, my summer had started.  No sound system school-gig during the summer; very few "rock star" gigs during the summer and the church choir was just enough for beer money (yup this is where I was as a not-yet-overly-responsible student).

I had rent and bills to pay too because wouldn't you know, my roomates moved home for the summer.  I had to get another job... AND FAST!!!  I ended up getting what I still consider to be the worst job EVER! 

Now before I go any further, to aid in my finances during school, I did many different jobs. 

I was:
  1. A bag boy, which is not as glamorous as it sounds
  2. A roofers assistant, shingling roofs on weekends at a discount
  3. A carpet cleaner, which was awfully hot and miserable in the summer
  4. A Tiler's assistant, I have tiled many a small bathroom
  5. A sausage and cheese distributor, meaning I drove a van distributing well preserved sausage and cheese products of a particular company to stores during the holidays
  6. An editors apprentice at a production house (that went out of business due to nothing I did wrong; I swear)
  7. And the previously mentioned Musically themed side jobs and mundane printing gig
These were not glamorous jobs... other than the ROCK STAR gig (which still wasn't overly glamorous as I was not a star by any means).  But they proved that I was willing to do anything (legal and maintaining my dignity) to afford school.  I was making an attempt at being responsible, keeping in mind that I felt beer was a responsible priority! 

I had just been fired from a job. 
I was scared. 
I was humbled. 
I was depressed and it was my own fault. 
I was humiliated. 
I thought I couldn't feel any lower.

I was soooooo wrong!

However, I was old enough and on the verge of becoming responsible enough to realize that I had just been taught a very valuable lesson.  I learned that very rarely is any job going to be a wonderful job.  Very rarely will even a good job always be good.  I learned that any job (legal) is worth it if it is covering your bills and keeping you alive. 

Mostly I learned, that no matter what I think, I have to show up and do my job responsibly and professionally.  I have tried my best to follow this with any job I have had since and for the most part, I have done well. 

I've only had three jobs since I was "let go" of which the last two are in my actual chosen career and have carried me through the past 19 years.  However, it's that first job, right after my dismissal, that was awful.  It was my first attempt at "trying" to follow the lesson I had just learned about respecting and appreciating any and all employment opportunities!  I tried and I think I failed, but I could not get fired.

As I said, I didn't think I could feel any worse (lower) than I already had felt, but I was wrong.  After being let go, back in 1993, out of desperation I took the first job I could get. 

I'm sure there are worse jobs.
I know there are better jobs.
But this turned out to be my worst job ever.

I worked.... as... a barbecue cook....

Boy this is getting long winded... I guess this one will be a two parter... I'll let you know how it turns out later.


Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Ahhhhh Holiday Decorations.... GRRRRRRR

I decorated my house for Christmas yesterday.  I must admit, it's not as much of a thrill as it used to be.

When I was married decorating for the holiday was a "family affair (no pun intended)" and we would all contribute! 

HAH!  Who am I kidding?  I wasn't allowed to touch a thing and decorate the inside of the house for the holidays.  I was there to get stuff out of the attic, move furniture and put stuff back in the attic.  I think that is the role for many men (or non-decorating spouses).  Oh yeah, we're allowed to do lights outside, as long as they are properly approved. 

However, I could never get approval for the landing strip and lights that spelled out "SANTA LAND HERE" on the roof.  Now that I'm single, I just don't feel the excitement about trying that anymore...

I must admit, decorating is not my forte'!  Sure, I have stuff hanging around my house like my daughter's artwork, pictures of my daughter and swords, but, who doesn't have those things (their own daughters, not mine) hanging around.  I also have a lot candles.  I may also have a collection of hats and remote controls. 

Ahhhhh, the modern era where we must have a remote for every electronic device in the house.  The theory is that we don't have to get up and move to do anything, but the remotes keep being moved and so I must get up and find the remotes.  That there's irony!

Anyway, so yeah... I almost died getting five large bins of stuff out of my attic.  Although, I'm pretty sure I looked all cool, like Atlas, bringing those things down.  Had I died in the process, my dog, as she was the only one present, would have thought something like "he sure looked cool!"  Followed shortly thereafter with "how do I get to my treats now?"

I couldn't find anything holiday related to watch whilst decorating the tree so I simply took a shot in the dark and flipped to a random channel.  Luckily I caught a movie that was just starting and would take two or so hours which should get me through the process. 

So there I was rolling the piano out of my living room into the dining room to make room for the tree whilst watching Boogie Nights; a holiday classic!  It's right up there with "It's a Wonderful Life" in the holiday happy film genre if you ask me.  Please don't ask me!  Actually, the movie was on for maybe thirty minutes before it dawned on me what I was actually watching.  I do feel a little awkward about this.  But hey, it was just me and the dog didn't care!

In fact, I think my dog was more in awe that I single handily built a TREE!!!  That must be extremely amazing to a dog when it's Master looks like Atlas (in his later years) and then makes NATURE in the house!  I know she sees me in a new light and is more and more intimidated by me!  She watched me as I fluffed and inserted every branch of my oh-so-not-real tree!  But she didn't care.  It had that new tree smell that only a dog can truly enjoy.  I thought it smelled like year old attic myself.

After creating nature and coating it with multi-colored LED lights, I then unloaded two more containers of just stuff to put around the house.  I wish my child had been with me, but she was not.  I did save the tree for her to decorate with me, but I took care of the house.

Around the house, she has certain things that must go in certain places, so I followed her guidelines as beast as I can remember.  I have a few snow globes.  The all go around the entertainment center.  Her thinking is that they are pretty and should be near the TV where we are looking a lot of the time.  My thinking is that they are full of water and should they break... NEW 3D TV FOR CHRISTMAS BABY!!!

Then I have a few Nutcrackers.  They are soldiers and they are there to protect the Baby Jesus.  So, yes, all Nutcrackers go around the Nativity.  It's as if the manger is surrounded by giant nut crushing Transformers! Yeah, it's pretty cool.

Then there's all the little things that as cute as they are, and have so many memories attached to them, ARE A COMPLETE PAIN IN THE ASS TO FIND PLACES FOR ALL OVER THE HOUSE!!!  They go in the book shelves, hall shelf, bathroom cabinets, kitchen window, on top of the fridge, on top of the hutch..... they go all over.  I was exhausted when I finished. 

The dog just sat like a Sphinx staring at the tree... worshiping it.

Now that that is all done, I can relax inside my house.  I'll get to the lights this weekend (sorry neighbors)... they do get kind of bright.

But tonight, I will come home to well decorated house with the tree all aglow (it's on a timer).

I hope the dog doesn't pee on the tree today while I'm gone.....

Monday, November 26, 2012

I'm too tired to think of a title for this one! Think of one yourself and let me know.

I had a post that I wanted to publish today but I simply couldn't muster up the energy to edit it.  So, you're getting this one.

It. Is. MONDAY!  It has been all day.  Not only is today Monday, but it is the "POST THANKSGIVING HOLIDAY WEEKEND" Monday; PTHW-Monday for short.

It's a very exhausting Monday.

I'm spent, but not from Holidaying for the most part.  My life is odd and all over the place. 

So, Thanksgiving Eve, I worked my "day job" and then took my Child down to Mom's for the holiday.  We made pies that night and helped Mom do stuff around the house.

Thanksgiving Day I made coffee n breakfast, which pretty much just involved heating stuff up, so there was ZERO challenge for me.  After a while I started to help make Mom's super secret traditional family stuffing but I got fired and replaced by my child.  When playing the "Grandma" role, no mother can be trusted to look out for her own child's best interest if it is more fun for the Grandchild.

Thanksgiving Day was kind of a blur from about 9 am until 8 pm.  I know I took my girl to my Sister's so she could help her make another pie (again, after I got knocked out of learning the secret stuffing) and then I drove some cakes back to Mom's from Sisters.... then I peeled a WHOLE BUNCH of potatoes both sweet and regular. 

Then, there was all the butter I had to bring up from the "garage fridge."  I am convinced that no dish on Thanksgiving is properly made unless an entire stick of butter has been used in each and every recipe... yes, even the green beans!

So, eventually we all six of us sat down for our huge meal of cleverly disguised butter both roasted and baked, oh yeah and mashed and sauteed.  Then we cleaned dishes.

Afterwards came 2 cakes and 3 pies (for six of us).  SO MUCH MORE BUTTER!!!  Somehow we managed to play a round of cards and watch a movie before giving into our onset of butter comas.

Friday AM, I got up, heated water through coffee grounds and heated up another breakfast.  The child and I went back home.  I went to work and she went to her Mother's due to the ever prevalent wisdom of divorce court and custody settlements... so healthy....

Friday night, I was still weak and sleepy from butter.  I slept. 

Saturday I got up and drove 3-ish hours to go do my "weekend job" and televise a football game.  Sure this game was between my alma mater and it's rival, but I really am non-biased in these games.  I love seeing my team win, of course, but all I really care about is that I really don't want the game to go into overtime, so I basically don't care who's winning in the end.  I just want a solid set up of gear during the day, a clean broadcast of the show and a quick strike!  I got just that, plus a win.

Of course, it was a late game and I did not get back to my car until closer to 1 AM and I did not get to my hotel until closer to 2 am.  I was tired.  The hotel served it's purpose but I did not sleep well.  It's not the hotels fault.  It's just that I sleep best in MY BED!!!

Up at 7 am for the drive home.  I got home close to ten.  I took a nap for about 30 minutes which did very little to restore my energy and probably did more damage to what little energy I did have.  Soooooo, I went ice skating.  Makes sense, right?

By 5 PM last night I seemed like I had been taking a steady diet of Xanax for a few days( I had not)...  but I did have very low energy, almost no emotion and not much care in the world.  I slept for 10 hours and the dog let me.

In fact the dog let me sleep later than normal and even seemed irritated with me when I woke her up this morning!!!  Apparently the trip to Grandma's (aka Moms) and the two days of play and one night sleepover she got to have at another house while I traveled was rather hard on her.  She was literally dog tired.  I could pick up her paw and just let it drop and she wouldn't even acknowledge me with the opening of an eye.  Nothing.

So, today I have been tired and have had no energy to think about anything other than how all over the place the last five days of my life have been.

Sooooooo... I typed about it.  Cuz' that's what I do.  It's how I roll!

I'm going back to bed real soon!

Thursday, November 22, 2012

I am thankful today and every day.

I'll just tell you right now, that it is perfectly acceptable for you to skip to the end of the list.  Really, the point I'm trying to make is at the end.

(start skipping)
1.)   I woke up this morning.
2.)   I was in a soft bed.
3.)   I had sheets and a blanket to cover me.
4.)   They were clean.
5.)   I had pillows.
6.)   I got up in a warm house.
7.)   There is carpet on the floor.
8.)   I have running water.
9.)   I have a healthy child.
10.) I know she is healthy because she climbed in bed with me during the night and kicked me several times in her sleep.
11.) I have a healthy dog
12.) I know she is healthy because she climbed in bed with me during the night and kicked me several times in her sleep.
13.) I have lights to help me walk down the hall out of my room.
14.) I had a warm cup of coffee
15.) I had a window to look out while I poured my coffee.
16.) There are trees outside.
17.) I own the truck I can see through the window.
18.) It works.
19.) I have a couch to sit on.
20.) I had a blanket to cover up with on the couch.
21.) I have a light to turn on next to the couch.
22.) I have a news paper to read.
23.) I have family around me
24.) They are healthy
25.) They did NOT climb in bed with me during the night
26.) I have a television to watch while I sit
27.) I have a pillow to rest my head on the couch
28.) There are more channels that I know what to do with
29.) I have a tablet to pre-occupy me
30.) I have the internet/ wifi to access the world n my tablet
31.) I have a cell phone that does most of the same things as my tablet
32.) It also is useful as a phone
32.) You're not really reading this are you?
33.) I have some money in the bank (not much but some)
34.) I can afford to pay for my phone
35.) I can afford to fuel my truck
36.) I can afford to feed my child
37.) I can afford to feed my dog
38.) I need to spend less on feeding me
39.) I am healthy
40.) I have a place to shower/ bathe
41.) I have warm water
42.) I have soap
43.) I have what I need to shave
44.) I have deodorant (be grateful)
45.) I have a towel to dry myself
46.) I have clean clothes to put on
47.) I have a comb/ brush for my hair
48.) I have hair on my head(for now)
49.) I have a warm breakfast
50.) I have a frumpy child who just woke up and hugged me
(stop skipping)

That was only FIFTY things that I have or have happened to me in the last 45 minutes of my day.  The majority of them are things I really don't need.

They are all things that happen almost every day.

They are things that most likely the majority of the people on the earth don't have.

They are things that are VERY EASY to take for granted each and every day.

I know that I can think of 100 things each and every day that I am grateful for that happen so frequently I forget to be grateful for them.  I can think of at least ten things that upset me daily that haven't happened to me in a very long time yet they linger within me.

Okay, so, here's my point: 

We have so much to be grateful for everyday but they happen so often that we get used to them and overlook them.  The negative things happen so few and far between that they seem SO MUCH easier to focus on and SO MUCH harder to forget.

Try to focus on the positive and simple things that happen every day.  I try to and it is not so easy.

In the meantime, HAPPY THANKSGIVING EVERYONE!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Really it's THIS Century Club!

So last Wednesday a posted a "short story" about Golden Fury on this blog.  It was really precious and if you haven't read it, you should go ahead an do so.  DO IT NOW!!!

I had intro'd this one on my blogs Facebook page stating:

"And this one is the one that started it all.  I'll explain later!"

And so, today's posting is to explain what I meant.

But first, for those of you who haven't, if you have the time, please "Like" my Facebook page for this blog.  It certainly isn't necessary as this blog and the page are pretty much open to the public.  However, when you like my page a.) I have a better idea of whom I am talking to when I write and 2,222,222.) I see a BIG number of likes that makes me feel all warm deep down inside.  Granted, the number is somewhat meaningless unless I am trying to make a career out of this.  With the way the economy and my career field is going, I honestly may have to try to make a career out of this at some point and I don't know if that's quite possible.

I actually did opt to allow ads on my page because supposedly I could get a check for like 50 Cents a month!  WHOO HOO!!! However, I got an e-mail from google ads saying something along the lines of "Ummmm, so yeah, we'll get back to you if and when we can find anyone who is interested, errrr, we mean, relatable to what you are writing about...."  I never should have crossed the Keebler people all those months ago.

So, I am moving on (more like back) to my original point!

So, on June 21, 2012 the tale of Golden Fury was my status on my personal Facebook page.  A few months before that post, I noticed that Facebook had started allowing status updates larger than 412 characters (or whatever the hell their old limit was) and I ran with it.

If you haven't figured out by now, God Help You, I can be long winded.  Many of my Facebook friends did in fact figure this out a while ago and quite a few of them egged me on to start a blog.  Sure they tried to sound all nice and sweet about it by saying things like "You know what you should do?  Instead of posting these long status updates on here, you should TOTALLY start a blog!  You'd be GREAT AT THAT!!!"

I ignored them.  It sounded like work.  In fact, it IS work.  I wanted nothing to do with that.

More friends tried to convince me that this would be my outlet.  "START A BLOG!!!" they would say.  "NUH UH!" I would say back.

So, on June 21st, I woke up upset with my dog for chasing a squirrel in her sleep, on my back.  I decided to status this experience!  Golden Fury was born!  Then another Golden Fury came after my post when a person near and dear to me (with golden locks and a sh*tload of fury) pretty much said "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!?  THIS IS TOO LONG FOR FACE BOOK!!!" Then she calmed down and said, "You know what, go to this blog website and start a blog!"  So I did... mostly out of fear for my life.

That day I posted this.  I look back at it now and I chuckle.  Especially where I decide by the 3rd sentence that this may not really be work! 

And thus it began!  I posted every day for the first 30 days I believe and then I started to slow down.  In fact, actually, no.  I didn't slow down.  I'm pretty certain that I posted daily for the first 60 days.  This was mentally exhausting for me.  It really was. 

You know, if I did do this for a living in a nationally syndicated things, well, I'd be thrilled, but mostly, I'd probably only have to knock out one of these a week!  Instead, I was pumping them out daily.  Most of them I like to think are pretty good, but some of them really sucked.  I was just putting something out to get it out. 

It was hard for me, but I finally realized that I needed to slow down.  So I opted to start posting every other day.  I still write a lot, but I try to post in a pattern now.  Monday, Wednesday, Friday of one week followed by Tuesday and Thursday of the next.  This has made me feel more relaxed about writing.

Writing is the key for me.  I have NEVER liked writing but I have always been way to elaborate in most things I say.  Now I find this therapeutic for me.  Nothing may come of it but I feel better getting these words out of me.  I feel even better being able to go back and read these words and see where my head was at any particular time.

Now, I have said in the past that I wish to not write about controversial thoughts or depressing scenarios, but sometimes, it has proven unavoidable.  Life is hard for all of us and so many people are just too angry about most everything.  I don't want to feed any of those fires, but the feelings are there within me as well from time to time.  This takes me back to going back and reading what I have written.  I know how I feel about the election.  I know how I feel about extremist religious wackos (and now you probably do too) but in a year, I don't want to look back and see that I was mad about them and re-ignite that anger.  It's pointless for me to spend anytime focusing on anger towards those issues now, it will make less sense for me to get mad about it again when I look back.

So, as I have so clearly pointed out, I am focused on the inane and often pointless ramblings that go on within my head and in the world around me.  I'm good with this.  This is pretty much my diary and although I do not consider myself an extrovert, I am happy to share it with you.  In fact, I thank you very much for reading.

Those of you who do read these things often enough are more than aware that I can so easily get off point.  It works for me.  It works very much well!

So, what's my point today?  When am I going to explain my Facebook comment about Golden Fury?

Well, the Golden Fury blog entry was my 100th post in this blog (100 things achieved = Century Club).  I'm very excited about this!  I didn't know that I could write 100 different entries in a year let alone 5 months, but I did!  On Friday of last week I tried to publish my 101st blog highlighting this achievement, but instead, I simply commented on drinking games and bike rides.  Yes, I got distracted and I got WAYYYY off point.  Sorry.

So there you have it.  If you had planned this out in advance, through experience gained by following my blog, you would have probably thought to just scroll on down to the last few paragraphs and find out my point. 

It's how I write. 

It's how I roll. 

It's kind of like an episode of Cosby where everything wraps up neatly in the end.

As always, thank you for reading!

Friday, November 16, 2012

I'm in the "Century Club!"

No, not the thing we did in our early twenties. 

You know, where a group of us would sit down with a bunch of beer and shot glasses with the SUPER COOL (aka ridiculously stupid) goal of doing a shot of beer a minute for 100 minutes.

We would keep up for quite sometime and stay relatively focused on the important task at hand.   Sixty minutes into it we would celebrate the "POWER HOUR!"  Which was aptly named as is it was when you drank a shot a minute for 60 minutes. Essentially, we had powered through 5 beers in an hour.  That's not too unheard of, but it is still remarkably foolish.

However, after the first sixty, and knowing you were over the hump, the next forty shots were damn near impossible.  By this time, you're really getting silly and your focus is a bit fuzzy mentally and visually.  You and your group will always lose count, even if you're using a clock.  You will remember a shot and you will think you've done too many.  Then there are also the bathroom breaks that take longer than a minute. 

This is where we all learned "breaking the seal is bad."  This essentially meant that if you peed once, the beer would start going straight through you.  I am not certain if there is any logic to this but it sure seems to work that way.

We would try to get one friend to be the designated timer which was the same as the designated driver as this person was not allowed to drink.  NOBODY wanted to be that guy and eventually they would cave and join in.  They would start to be the "substitute drinker" for those who had to pee for ten minutes or so.

And once you completed the 100 minutes, you were useless, but felt ultimately cooler knowing (not really) that you had just had about 8.3 beers in less than two hours. 

STUPID!!!!  Yet, we tried.

I tried this once playing "Scarface" with 40 ounce containers of the oh so sexy malt liquor variety.  This is when you watch the movie Scarface and you drink a shot every time Tony Montana drops an "F-bomb".  This is another foolish game.  The 90's "love of my life" girlfriend called me to "talk" that night, as we were having troubles.  The problem is that she called during that brilliant round of beer play. 

She and I didn't speak again for almost ten years.  Yup, Good times!

But, no actually.  The mindless health risking drinking games of my early twenties are not the Century Club of which I speak.

Neither am I speaking of the polar opposite Century Club which was the attempt to ride 100 miles on your bicycle (in one ride).  You wouldn't know it to look at me now, and you wouldn't have known it by looking at me then either, but I once considered myself to be an avid cyclist.  I never did a Century ride mainly due to time.  But on the weekends, I would often do a "half century plus 3" which was a much cooler way of saying a 53 mile ride.

Naked Bob and I would ride for about 3+ hours and really enjoy ourselves.  Naked Bob was a cycling fanatic and rode off road daily.  He wasn't a competitor and he was about 15 to 20 years older than me, but he was impressive.  I got him into road cycling.  Luckily, he didn't ride naked so that's not where I came up with his nickname.  No, he wore cycling clothes.  He wore them all the time. In fact, when I would pick him up to go for a ride he would get into my truck dressed in cycling clothes.  As soon as we got to our starting point he would strip down buck naked right in front of my truck (and me) and change into other cycling clothes.

Voila, "NAKED BOB!"

As it turned out, Naked Bob had done a lot of drugs in the late sixties, early seventies, mid and late seventies, most likely throughout the eighties and probably right on through to today.  I haven't seen him in 5 or 6 years at least, but if you saw him, the long grey pony tail and cycling clothes are a dead giveaway.

He probably did a lot of Century Clubs of the beer variety as well.

So here's the thing...

I have gotten SOOOOOO way off point explaining to you what Century Club I am not a part of that I do not wish to make you read anymore. 

With that, I will make this a two-parter and get back to you with it on Tuesday or so!

I hope the suspense doesn't get to you.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Golden Fury

The Sun hung low in the sky as night began to fall over the Serengeti. The animals dared not move in the squelching heat and dry dusty air; all except the lioness were still.

She was not your typical lioness. As all lionesses do, she supported her pride and was very good on the hunt, but she was too good. She had become obsessed with the hunt to a point of being greedy. She was in it for the sport and that would be her undoing on this night.

She spied a tired and overheated wildebeest standing near a dried out puddle, desperately awaiting the banks to replenish themselves with water; any amount would do. The wildebeest was exhausted and every breath of the desert air burned. There was very little fight in this creature.

The lioness saw her chance and charged the wildebeest. In it's peripheral the beast saw only a yellowish form moving aggressively in it's direction. With what little energy it had, the beast kicked it's hind legs out just as the lioness bit into it's haunches.

A lucky shot caught the lioness off guard and hit her in her breast knocking her several feet back. Dazed, the lioness got back up and shook off the pain as she saw the wildebeest trotting away. She knew the beast would soon be her third conquest for the day. She didn't even need the meat, just the victory.

The lioness charged the wildebeest with all of her strength. The wildebeest knew it's moment was drawing near and soon it would not need to worry about the water anymore. It could not go on. It's calves would have to grow up alone.

Just as the lioness was about to tackle the beast and celebrate the kill, a blur of Golden Fury came from nowhere, leaving a trail of dust as far as the eye could see, and tackled the lioness. The wildebeest stopped and stared in awe as the bodies of the lioness and this Golden savior contorted into a ball rolling together across the desert sand.

With one clenching grasp of it's mighty jaw, Golden Fury snapped the lionesses front left leg leaving her unable to hunt EVER AGAIN!!!! Golden Fury left the lioness lying on the desert floor and simply gave the wildebeest a reassuring nod before disappearing into the sunset. The wildebeest rushed home to hug it's children!!!

THIS, is what I like to think my dog was dreaming about when she woke me up at 3 AM clawing at my back and yelping.

She better NOT have been dreaming about a damned squirrel!!!!

Sunday, November 11, 2012

WHOO HOO!!!! I WON THE LOTTERY!

Well, actually, that's not entirely true.  In fact, there is practically no measure of truth in the title of this one.

Nope.  It didn't happen.

In fact, the truth is more like "whoo hoo.... I didn't LOSE the lottery!" 

Now THAT is absolutely 100% Grade A Prime TRUTH BABY, becasue, I didn't play.

I want to play the lottery.  I really do.  And, I want to win.  Yes, I'd like that very much please.  But, I don't want to be rich.

"Come Again?"  You might say.
"Not now, I'm typing."  Is all I've got for you.

I want to be stable.  If I had a big lottery winnin' my family would be cared for, a chunk of the money would go to the Church (just in case they're right), My daughter would NEVER have to worry about finances again as long as she doesn't become some sort of money obsessed spender, some would go to charities (I hear The Human Fund is a good one) and then I'd want to be financially stable. 

I just don't want to worry about making ends meet or paying bills.  I want to work.  Maybe I'd go work for a charitable organization in town.  Who knows.

But, I don't need extravagance or big things.   I think the extremely wealthy simply lose touch with reality in having too much.  I believe that the more I have, the more I have to lose.  Maybe I'm simple?  I don't want too much, is just don't want to have to worry about losing what I do have.

So, like many people I know, I fall asleep at night dreaming about winning the lottery.  And that's what I plan.  All that stuff I just said about how I'd spend it.  That's my dream.  It's not much but that's what I'm all about.

Of course, I rarely ever play the lottery. 

"Why" you ask?
"Be patient!" I say.  Seriously, do you ever find that if you just wait one more second before asking a question when someone is talking or whenever you're watching a movie, that the answer to your question is happening as you speak?  Sheesh... what is it with you?

I rarely play the lottery because every time that I do not win, which has literally been every time I've EVER played, I get sad and upset.  I know, it's pathetic.

I really don't know how people survive having bought a lottery ticket at the same gas station where the lottery winner bought their ticket!  That would drive me nuts!!! 

A few years back some guy in my current city won and I was miserable.  "HOW COULD THAT NOT BE ME!!!!  I LIVE LIKE ONLY TEN MILES FROM THAT GAS STATION, IN FACT, I'M NOT EVEN SURE WHERE THAT IS AND I'VE NEVER BEEN THERE, BUT... THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEEE!!!" 

That's pretty much exactly how I felt.  Imagine how I'd feel if I actually had bought a ticket from that gas station that particular time.  Yes, I would have been lost.  So, on top of all of my feelings of frustration and misery I would also need to pile on the feeling of being lost.

So, I hardly ever play the lottery.  But that way, I do not have to deal with the pain of losing.

No, I'm not like this about relationships, or sports, or job interviews, or games or... or in pretty much anything where I have to take any sort of risk of failing in order to  participate.

But, the lottery...

                        SO HIGH
Your hopes get                  when you play even though your chances of winning are
                                                                                                                           SO LOW!

Didja see what I did there?  Did it confuse you?  I'm sorry about that.  I've been reading a lot of books with my daughter lately that do that sort of play on words, so I thought I'd try.... SCREW WHAT YOU THINK!!!  IT WAS FUN!!!

Anyway, back on point...

If I don't play the lottery, I don't lose.  If I don't lose, I don't get mad.  If I'm not mad, I have happy dreams and in my happy dreams I WIN THE FREAKIN' LOTTERY!!!!

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

I voted.

It's Election Day.

I had a completely different blog all ready to publish today, but I can hold on to it. Perhaps I need to type about my experience voting and my opinion on the significance of today.

I woke up very early, somewhat due to my mind racing and somewhat due to the change in time.  I did a workout for about 45 minutes to clear my head.  I was really working out most of that time too. Anyone can say "I did a 45 minute work out" and they could really just mean that they took 45 minutes to do one rep.  I got all sweaty.

I took a shower, got dressed, drank my coffee and waited for a family member to come over and watch my child.  I left her sleeping.  I'd so much rather be with her, but I need to go and cast my vote.  I feel that It is my obligation to do so.

This has been a tough one.  I feel very little for either presidential candidate.  I have lost touch with the two large parties, or perhaps they have lost touch with me.  What happened to Presidents representing a moral and progressive ground for our nation?  Have they ever filled that role?

I guess only the history books can tell us how they do as President.

I stood in line for an hour and twenty minutes.  The line was very long. 

When I walked into the school to vote, the auditorium where the voting took place was only 100 feet in front of me to the right.  However, the two lines (organized by last names) to that auditorium started 200 feet down a hall right in front of me to my right.  As I turned the corner to get in line, my heart broke seeing how far I would have to go.  I almost turned and walked away.  Many did.

As I stood in line, I saw the same heartbreak on the face of every person who had to turn that first corner to get in line.  Deep inside I felt their pain and I laughed at them as I had laughed at myself when I first got in line.

Many of us in line chatted and formed deep lasting relationships that you typically only find on a long elevator ride.  We all bonded.  By the end we were great friends who may never see each other again, have no idea who the other is voting for and don't even know each other's names.  All I know for certain about most of the people around me is that half of their last names started with A through K and the other half started with L through Z.

When I finally reached the auditorium it was as though I had run a marathon or received an academy award.  I felt I had accomplished something great!  I swear the air was cleaner in the auditorium.  By the time we reached the auditorium, it was as though we were an elite group of VIPs.  Only about 20 voters were in there at any given time with 5 pollsters.  One pollster was already at the breaking point scolding people for taking too long, "We'll be here 'til midnight if everyone keeps working at this pace" he spouted at the people in line; it was only 7:45am by that time.  The polls had only been open for 45 minutes.  I fear he will not make it to midnight.

I got to my booth and cast my ballot.  I was done within three minutes.  I got my "I Voted" sticker and I left.  As I exited the auditorium I had to walk between the two lines all the way down the hall.  I wanted to do so dearly, but I resisted the urge to run down the hall high fiving everyone as if I were Michael Jordan being introduced over the PA as starting for the Bulls tonight!!!  I felt like a STAR!!! 

I saw the look on the other voters faces.  I had that face earlier.  You know the pathetic face that looks deeply into someone else's eyes and says "you lucky bastard... I wish I was you!"  Everyone in line wanted to be me; or they wanted be to done, but I like to think they want to be me!

 I was asked to do an exit poll.  I declined.  I drove to work praying that I've made the right decision.

Only time will tell.

My greatest relief is the lack of political bs on all the television stations and social networking outlets.  I'm looking forward to being able to have pointless conversations with friends again.  I'm looking forward to focusing on other issues and working on accepting what ever changes in policy affect me.

I cast my vote.  I hope it counts.  I hope our politicians get better at representing our nation and not their parties.

But here is what I am certain of;  I believe in our system.  I believe in my nation and I firmly believe that no matter who wins, whether I voted for him or not, THAT person is MY President!

I hope you vote today.

Monday, November 5, 2012

The Myth of the Penn.

I woke up this morning with a decades old song stuck in my head.  It came out in '89 when I was in college and it really is a great song.  I love this song, but it doesn't play very often.  It just reminds me of a pretty much care free life.

I must admit, that was the hardest part of college; that I had a "carefree" attitude about it.  The only thing that made college harder than high school was that I was carefree and didn't have teachers holding homework over my head or parents holding a schedule over my head.  Growing up and becoming a responsible adult (sorta) was the greatest education I got out of those years on campus.  Of course, I feel whenever anybody leaves the "nest" and is suddenly on their own without their parents standing over them, whether they join the work force, or the military, or get married, the hardest part has got to be the whole "becoming a responsible person!"

Kind of deep huh?  Well, that's all you get for this particular post.  I'm focused on the song from '89.

All I knew was that it was a catchy little tune by Crowded House.  I can just see the Brother's Finn strumming the acoustic guitar standing outside somewhere. I'm sure I'd seen exactly that in the video for the song, but, honestly, I didn't really know. 

In High School a dear friend of mine introduced me to a little known band from New Zealand known as Split Enz.  I loved their stuff and even have their Greatest Hits album; "Six Months on a Leaky Boat" and "One Step Ahead" and "Hard Act to Follow...." it goes on.  Their music was great!  The Finn's were a part of this group and I loved it!  Split Enz eventually broke up and one of the Finn brothers went off and started Crowded House.

I loved their music and it followed what seemed to me to be the logical evolution of Split Enz.  However, I own not one (in fact none) Crowded House Album.  They've had quite a few.  All of their stuff has been great and often is too catchy to the point that if someone even says the words "!revO s'tI maerD t'noD" (not backwards), that song will be stuck in your head all day.  HEY NOW!!!

So, for me personally, Crowded House's greatest flaw was that their hits were just too darn catchy!  And this particular mystery song was my favorite of theirs!

Which brings me to this particular morning in 2012 when I have a song of theirs from 1989 stuck in my head.  It's driving me nuts.  I have called friends and sung what I think the words are and they say (politely) "ummmm yeah... that might sound familiar..."  Then I fear they hung up with me and deleted me from their contact lists.

Of course in typing it, I may sound crazier, especially if I type the guitar part to you and then the only words I think I know, but it goes a little something like this (hit it):

Guitar- "brummmmBOP bedop b'dop bop
              brummmmBOP bedop b'dop bop..."
Lyrics"What if I had Romeo in Cashmere?
              Something something something something cold beer
              something something something else
              someone to laugh with?"
Guitar- "brummmmBOP bedop b'dop bop
              brummmmBOP bedop b'dop bop..."

Anything?  Know what it is?

HAH!!! Well guess what!  I WAS WAY OFF!

I caved and I went to Google and I searched for "what if I had Romeo in Cashmere."  I even went to search YouTube for "Crowded House Romeo in Cashmere."  I even tried spelling it "Kashmir!"

I GOT BUTKUS(the first one)!!

Then, I saw a teeny tiny eency weency reference to "Romeo in Black Jeans!" 

"What the hell?"  I thought, have I been singing this Crowded House song incorrectly for the past 23 years?  I could believe I would do such a thing.  After further investigation I discovered that I had in fact NOT been singing a Crowded House song incorrectly.

I had been singing a Michael Penn song incorrectly?  Who the HELL is Michael Penn?  Did he quit Crowded House and start his own career or something? 

Well, NO, no he didn't.  As best as I can tell, he might've heard one of their songs once and decided to base his first (and only) greatest hit on their sound!  There, I said it!  This guy, who is a successful and talented musician has taunted me for 23 years by writing an excellent song that sounds like Crowded House. 

What really sucks, is that THIS WAS MY FAVORITE CROWDED HOUSE SONG!!!


No Myth (aka, Romeo in Black Jeans)

So, there you go.  Now you have endured the torment I have suffered all day.  I am greatly humbled by the revelation that the last 23 years of my life have been a lie thanks to Michael Penn. 

On a really cool note, he's Sean Penn's brother and also the brother of that other famous Penn brother. 

Sorry if this is stuck in your head now.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

PART II: But, what am I?

"I know you are, but what am I?" 

I practice these words each night before I go to bed in preparation for a battle that may never come!  My preparation is my nuclear deterrent as it were.  My nemesis knows that I practice and knows that the next time, I will be better prepared.  So, we stay in a stagnate state between each other always knowing what each other is but always waiting for the answer as to what we ourselves are.

This is no way to live.

I recently described to you how handily I was defeated by a sixth grader in a classic match-up of IKYABWAI ("I know you are, but what am I?" ... I don't know why I even take the time to think up these Acronyms if I'm going to have to keep explaining them to you) but only barely touched the tip of the iceberg on how this defeat effected me emotionally.

To re-cap, I got confused and essentially shot myself in the foot by saying "I know I am, but what am I" which assured a quick defeat for me.  It was awful.

But, me being me, this is where I went off on a tangent of thought.

"I know I am" and I do know that I AM.  I exist!  I have roots.  I have offspring.  I AM!  "But, what (exactly) am I?"  What constitutes what I may be?

Here's what I know... I am male.... and that about sums it up for me. 

Is that all that defines me? Sure there are events in my life and roles I have fulfilled that have defined who I may be, but they change. 

For example, I have been and always will be my parents child. First I was just their child and then I was their child in elementary school, and then middle school and then the school play and on the baseball team and then their child in high school and then I became their child in college... you see this one goes on  and on...

So, that helps me think this through... I am a male and my parent's child!  I'm getting somewhere with this.

Then I met someone and got married.  So this added two new identifiers to me in that I am male, heterosexual, my parent's child and the guy that woman met in a bar

WHOO HOO!!! As Navin R. Johnson and I both screamed out the first time we appeared in the phone book... "I'm SOMEBODY!!!"

The "guy in the bar" part was kind of a demotion for me but at least the hetero part answered some questions...

My existence stayed at pretty much "male-hetero-married-employed at- parent's kid" for quite some time.  But I am not certain that where I work contributes to my self being as much as what I do.  This is like friends... they make me a better person as a whole, but unless they play a daily role in my life, I do not see them as defining who I am... granted, yeah, if I had a bunch of friends who were ax-murders, I guess that would play a role in defining who I am. 

In fact, I was only quite recently discussing this very thing with my Scandinavian friend Björn Axmurderersfriend.

So yeah, perhaps work and friends don't truly define who I am although they do impact who I am in some way.  They are probably more of a reflection of who I am.

So, I am back to being hetero male married child of parents.  But alas, life changes.

I became a parent.

Even In my parents eyes, I was downgraded.  I became hetero male who was present at the creation of an angel! And the only part that truly mattered was the angel part!

But yes, at my basic core and my greatest belief I was a husband and father.  Everything else was secondary. Granted, I just can't seem to shake the whole stigma that comes along with being a "hetero male" which seems so socially unacceptable these days! And I will always be my parents child so I'm stuck with that too I guess.

But again, things change and I was downgraded yet again (or upgraded given the circumstances and/ or how you look at it) and I was no longer a husband. 

I was just a hetero-male of my parents creation what has created offspring!

In fact, (in contradiction to what I just typed) minus any medical assistance and/or uses of technology, being a Father, in my case, nullifies the need for me to specify "hetero-male."  So there I am.  I am a Father!  That is all I am sure of other than the fact that I am my parent's child.

Everything else changes accept for those two points. 

I AM my parent's child (and my sibling's sibling). 
I AM my daughter's Father!

I can live with this.  I am pleased with this.

As I've grown up, I've come to realize that I had a GREAT family and GREAT parents.  And as much as I can I want to give my daughter what I had.

I am what my parents raised me to be.

I am a Father!  This is where you hum Pomp and Circumstance (you'll hear it at the 1:50 mark) or even the Imperial March (which is much cooler).

So take that sixth grade kid!!! Sticks and stones may break my bones but I am that kid's DAD (and so much more)!!! 

Yeah yeah yeah... that kid... the one that was on your side... and wanted. you. to... to beat me... just like you did.

Regardless...

Nyah nyah ny-nyah nyah!!!