Parenting requires Horse Sense!

Back in 1981, a few months before I turned eleven, I learned a life lesson that is only now beginning to become clear to me.

My family had moved down south from Chicago only a few years before.  We had just recently moved into the first (and only) house my parents ever bought as they had decided that the south eastern coastal town we currently lived in was where they wanted to retire.

As nice as it was, I don't think I ever truly fit in.  However, at the time, we were all still "misplaced Yankees that tawk funny" as I had been informed by someone who still to this very day is surprised the South lost the Civil War because "the Devil thinks he done beat Jesus.  But, we'll rise up!"

This post has nothing to do with anything other than how out of place we were in our new neighborhood and how the lesson I learned gives me a better understanding of current events in my life.

So, back to 1981.  We silly city slicker Yankees had the shock of our lives when a hardcore country boy from Kentucky, who went by the name of "Wild Bill" decided to give us a gift because he liked my Father so much.  My Dad really was a likeable guy.

Now, I'm guessing because he was from "the country" in Kentucky, Wild Bill (a giant of a man) had a different concept of "surprise gifts" than most people would think acceptable.  Sure, if you tell someone something like "hey I like that belt" they might give you a belt like that one day.  Yeah you might say something like "Nice hat.  I really like how the camouflage  blends in with the bass hooked to that fishing line on the front of the cap" and three days later BOOM you have a new fishing hat!

But, if you say "cool dog," that does not mean "hey man, get me a dog."   Don't worry, Ol' Billski didn't give us a dog; that'd be nuts.  On a side note, Bill also liked to put the suffix "ski" at the end of words to sound ironically Russian.  So, he would call my Mom "Momski" or dinner "foodski" or himself "Billski" which is still pretty irrelevant to the story but it tells you some more about Wild Bill-ski.

One day Bill pulled up in our driveway, with no indication he was even stopping by as I recall, in an old 1970's something Datsun pick up with a huge plywood cabin built on the back of it.  When he came to the door we were all surprised and excited to see him.  We were even more surprised when he said, "come on out here and see what I gotcha!"

As we stepped out a friend of Bills was escorting a little Tennessee Walker filly (young female horse) out of the back of his truck and into our back yard.  As it turns out, one day my Dad  apparently said something like "horses are neat" to Bill.  So, we got a horse.

She was black as night with a white star on her forehead and one white sock on a hind leg.  We named her Midnight Star because it was fitting and there wasn't a moderately famous R&B band that we would hear of for another few years.

 

My Midnight Star was no Freak-A-Zoid

At the time, I simply thought I was learning so much about horses.  It was an amazing experience.  We had her for years and I cherished every moment.  I would brush her, clean her, feed her, clean  her stall, walk her, spend my time with her.... All of which are great life long lessons about how to be a human being and treat all creatures, including other people, with respect.

However, that wasn't the most significant lesson or, at the very least, observation.  Yes, I learned to
show my love for another creature by caring for it and assisting it, but, what was most educational was what happened when the horse lived in our back yard.

When Midnight  was in the backyard and alone, she was quite often remarkably unpleasant to be around.  She didn't want anyone to make eye contact with her, talk to her, be near her or touch her, UNLESS you had food.  Then she would tolerate you.  But as soon as we moved her into a stable and she got around other horses, she was so pleasant and sweet!

That last paragraph almost perfectly describes raising a teenager.  For the most part, when they're alone, they are not to be trifled with unless you have food.  When they are with friends, they're pretty sociable.

I had no idea what I was learning raising a horse.

Left to Right:
Plywood stable/ horse transport, Wild Bill, a precious Me in a red denim jacket and white jeans,
The "Momski" & an annoyed tween disguised as a horsey!

If I just saved Godzilla, I hope he remembers me should he ever go all Rampagy one day.

I've learned some stuff on this very morning.  I had some miniature excitement going on for a bit that really thrilled the dog.  After the "thrill" was resolved I ran an extensive google search and learned that the Mediterranean House Gecko is a fairly common little critter in the South Eastern United States that is not only a non-native species introduced years ago but it is also something that exists.  I had absolutely never even heard of these things before this morning.

This is not my hand but is EXACTLY what I found.
Photo Credit http://racieb.deviantart.com/art/Baby-Gecko-24220779

My morning adrenaline rush began when I thought I saw a very large clear/ light tan spider darting around the blinds on my dining room window.  I grabbed my trusty can of bug spray and doused the area where I had seen the apparent arachnid of doom!  Luckily, I suck at aiming bug spray and missed my target.   As it moved again, my 46 year old presbyopia impaired eyes where able to convey to my brain "I don't know what it is, but that is no spider."  Then my brain went into a whole liberal/conservative bitch fest over "WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, SAVE IT" vs. "WE DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS, KILL IT" debate for a few moments while my eyes tried to figure out how to focus on something so small that seemed to blend in so well with my blinds.  All the while my body was doing some sort of uncontrollable "is it on me, get it off, don't step on it and don't hurt it, unless it tries to hurt me" type dance while the dog pranced around as if I were about to throw a ball made of treats. 

I was finally able to make out a shape and decided it was some sort of see through lizard type thing, hopefully of the non-lethal type.  The "SAVE IT"s won.

This was the exact moment I learned that the first baby Mediterranean Gecko you find in your house is a traumatic rescue scenario.  Your sense of urgency to get this precious little angel outside feels like it's your mission in life. I scooped it onto a napkin and got it onto a dew drop covered leaf outside.

My morning education continued upon finding a second baby Mediterranean Gecko in my house.  It was a kind of pleasant surprise.  It was mostly like one of one of those "Oh look. It's another baby Mediterranean Gecko... In my house... Whaddya know... It's a good thing I still have my Mediterranean Gecko rescue napkin in hand... I guess?" type surprises.  I guess this was better than the whole "oh look, it's a Gecko; and he's got an insurance quote for me!"

 

"Pardon me, but, could you not spray bug spray at me?  Thanks mate."
You read that in his voice, didn't you?

I got it onto my gecko rescue napkin and I think I got it to a leaf.

Upon finding a third baby Mediterranean Gecko I reached more of an El Guapo-esque (finding out there are more than Three Amigos) "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE" frame of mind; it's on a leaf now as well.  

After all was said and done I started my google search about whatever type of critter invasion I was dealing with.  At this point I learned that there are typically only two baby Mediterranean Geckos per clutch.  So, in hindsight, the third one may have been the second one again.

If there are any more to be found I hope the dog "helps" them while I am work.

Look, today's post started out as my personal Facebook status but was obviously far too long.  So, I made it a blog post that I thought I'd publish.  I have continued to write over the years but hardly ever publish so much.  I don't know why.  Just enjoy learning something.  I have.

That song now makes me cry in my old age....

I couldn't figure out how to start this one, so here are a few different opening paragraphs to stress my point:

Open 1:  There have been plenty of songs that have reached into my soul and touched me, influencing my life.  Of course, I mean that strictly in a hypothetical type way.  "Come on Feel the Noize" was one of those songs and I think it simply made a connection with teenage hormones.

Open 2:  There have been many songs that, at different points in my life, I have felt an emotional connection with.  Most songs reached me at a specific age (like the previously mentioned passion of Quiet Riot) when the majority of that age was choc-ful-o youthful hormonal angst in some way or another.

Open 3:  I have a nostalgic feel for a lot of the music from my youth, but very rarely does it mean anything to me anymore.  Ah yes, "Imaginary Lovers" touched me greatly when I fell head over heels in love with the only girl on my baseball team in the third grade.   I tell you I had NO IDEA what that song meant as a kid and having just watched the video for the first time, I am ashamed of myself!

Open 4:  Many songs reached me at a specific time in my life but they only work for that moment in my life.  Dr Feelgood?  What?  Great song.  I'm not certain what I got out of it.  I saw this performed in concert... TWICE!  On a side note, for a Cello exam in college I once played some of this song.  My professor was NOT amused.  Yet, I was impressed with how I expressed myself.  However, given that I only studied cello for such a short period, I'm sure it sounded more like me skinning a cat with cello than anything else... much like the song is supposed to sound, right?


My point is, that very few songs out there are "timeless" to me.  Yes, I can enjoy a song that once meant something to me, but a song that defined my world when I was 18 can have very little impact on my 45 year old self, other than nostalgia.

At least, that is what I thought.

In 1989 one of the best albums to be given to my generation was released.  It was Disintegration by the Cure.  If you haven't listened to it, here's a link to the WHOLE ALBUM on Youtube.  I cannot guarantee that you will like it and I will not try to convince you otherwise if you do not.

I love it.

What you cannot deny is that one of the most poetic, sentimental and heartfelt songs ever written is on this CD (No, not this deemed "the whitest song ever")!!!

The song is Love Song (the video is a little odd).

"whenever I'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am home again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am whole again

whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am young again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am fun again

however far away i will always love you
however long i stay i will always love you
whatever words i say i will always love you
i will always love you

whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am free again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am clean again

however far away i will always love you
however long i stay i will always love you
whatever words i say i will always love you
i will always love you"

That song... those lyrics... they are simply amazing.
That song is cupids arrow put into a melody.
It is so deep and touching.

When I first heard it at the ripe age of 18, I'm certain it made me feel uncomfortable.  I probably said something stupid like "Dude... THAT is so Gay!"  And then I most likely promptly sung it to whomever I was trying to woo at the moment.

And for most of the next 20 years that song had been about falling in love... in the moment...  No, nothing explicit.  Just an emotion.  If you sing it to someone you are actually in love with, it seems to carry an even greater meaning.

However, I recently learned that if I sing it to my child, I turn into a blithering idiot and will cry.

Yup.  The song came on the radio the other day and I looked at my little girl and said "Ooooh, you'll like this song.  It is all a bout how much you love someone."  I couldn't make it through the chorus without breaking down.

Seriously, go back and re-read the lyrics.  If you are not of the mind set that that song is about a romantic interest, but more about a person whom you truly lovely unconditionally as in YOUR OWN CHILD, it is a whole new meaning that simply put, I was not prepared for.

Imagine you have a child and you do not get to see them every day because of your work (like you're deployed with the military), or their school, or perhaps a divorce....  Imagine how when you get to be with your child, you feel "home again" or "whole again" and "young again" even "fun again."  And I would say that you do feel free and even clean.  If you truly love your child and lose time with them, you feel like a better person when you're with them.   Life seems more complete and happier when you get to be with them.

It is when you are without them that you feel so low.

But it's that chorus sung to your child, whom you do not get to see as often as you like:

however far away i will always love you
however long i stay i will always love you
whatever words i say i will always love you
i will always love you

It's true.  My child is going to grow up.  She is going to push my buttons.  She is going to make mistakes.  She is going to hurt my feelings.  She is going to go away.  But I will ALWAYS love her!

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, tears.

The System Continues to Work, Like It or Not.

Yesterday in these here United States of America a lot of people voted in a new President.

Mostly due to a lack of experience combined with his crass and vulgar nature, he was not my first choice... or my tenth for that matter.  Of course, neither was his primary opponent but I felt much better about her especially with her level of experience and her grace.  There was a lot of very negative reporting about both of them as best as I could tell, but their public personas became the best guide for me.

I did not vote for our new President, but I have quite a few intelligent friends whom I respect greatly who did.  I have to have faith in their judgment.  I have to believe in what they saw in him that they did not see in her.  I have to accept this outcome as I am no revolutionary and I believe in our system.  I pray that our allies stay allies and that he can bring about positive changes that do not cause damage on a grand national and international scale over the next four years.

In the wide wide world of social networking the majority of the folks I respect have shown compassion in his victory and they have expressed a hope to move on together.

Unfortunately, in that same world of social networking (and the Internet in general) I have seen some terrible posts and awful levels of gloating from those with the mindset that makes me fear our new leader.  In a somewhat paraphrased "Lieutenant Kijé-esque" composite I can only tell by these awful comments that by all accounts it should now be perfectly legal to run up to any Handicapped Mexican Muslim Woman and firmly grab her by the "Melania" in an effort to throw her back over our newly constructed wall, because, Jesus.  I have seen some seriously deplorable comments out there and all I can say is "That's not how this works.... That's not how any of this works."

I seriously hope faith in our fellow man will outweigh the hate of our fellow man.

No no, it's me, not you. I mean, yeah, you did something, and I'm upset, but it's really just me... until it's you.

I keep trying to write but I fear that since last summer I've simply moved on to a bitchy and at times negative place what with all the anger and violence and politics in the news.  Today I started typing my status update on my personal Facebook page and realized that I was really just venting too much.  So, I've opted to just put it out here:

This is a problem as old as time but, with all the news and social networking posts I see quite often as of late, it's been on my mind a lot.

Why is it that when someone wrongs us, or we're just in a bad mood, it is easier to pick out something different about the target of our frustration (whether or not they are truly a part of our internal dilemma) rather than just address our frustration or accept their action? Is it because their difference is our obvious problem?

"Oh you spoke your mind and I disagree? It's because you're SOME OTHER RACE/ RELIGION/ NATIONALITY than me you jerk!"

"Oh you have a better job/ life than I do? Oh it's obviously because you're PRETTY/ A DEVIANT/ SOME OTHER RACE/ RELIGION/ NATIONALITY than me you jerk!"

"Oh you think your life is important, well, I don't feel adequate in my own life so you must think you're better than me because of ANY REASON I CAN THINK OF you jerk!!!"

And there are simply so many more complaints that I see in a similar vein...

Well, it's childish and it's disappointing and it's making me worry about the world we are providing for our kids. I think we all need to work on this to be more accepting of each other and stop assuming that someones actions or opinions are a direct assault on us! It just seems to be escalating to an environment of intolerance and hate causing some of the more extreme among us to commit a truly direct assault on us.

We've got enough to worry about in our lives we don't need to make it worse by harming others with our judgments.

Anyway, I just couldn't take it anymore and felt I needed to vent when that middle aged balding woman eating an egg mcmuffin, that she obviously didn't need, while driving her beat up old rusty minivan cut me off in traffic this morning because she obviously had to be in front of me more than I needed to be safe, the jerk!!!

I might be grumpy today and I did say WE ALL need to work on this.

I Fear your Fears... I Pray for a Solution.

“The only thing we have to Fear is Fear itself!” - Franklin Delano Roosevelt, March 3, 1933

After the events in my home state of South Carolina this past week, I am starting to realize that I Fear the Fears of others.

I have become afraid of those who fear:

• racial equality
• Democrats, Republicans, Liberals, Conservatives....
• gender equality
• losing their “right” to own weapons that are for more than hunting a meal
• religious equality
• letting go of a cultural past and moving forward as a people/ as a species
• The Government
• ANYTHING DIFFERENT/ ANY CHANGE

Why can't we get past the negatives and focus on the positives in life? Is it the media having to fill air time, blowing the negative events in our word out of proportion? Is it the internet continuing a never ending conversation regarding the evils in our world thus creating a mob mentality? Is it just plain Fear?

What has happened to Faith? I do not just mean Faith in God, but Faith in ourselves and Faith in our fellow humans. For most of us, wonderful things happen every day, but they happen so frequently we take them for granted and neglect them. Occasionally something bad happens and it's all we can focus on for days or even years; I include myself in that “we.”

I believe that most of us want to live in peace. Am I naive? Maybe I am a bit. Yes, I am aware that evil exists in this world and that there has to be someway to defend ourselves from it. But where does it end? I believe that evil is purely the Fear carried in ones soul.

• The religious extremists who are blowing up people of other faiths are afraid.
• The homophobes bashing Gay Marriage (aka “Marriage”) are afraid.
• Those who wear a pistol at all times to “defend themselves” are afraid.
• The racially motivated man who killed nine people at a prayer meeting was afraid.

From what I can tell, Charleston is handling this as best as can be expected. There has been no retaliation or riots or exacting revenge. Instead, there are expressions of faith, a joining of communities and an attempt to understand and forgive. I pray to God that this will help.

As a child, when I had to deal with bullies, I was told “bullies are mean because they are afraid.”

Have we ever really lived in a world without Fear? Can we make it better for our children?

I Don't Always Understand Self Expression

I have a tattoo.  It is in a location on my person where I can legally display it in public but I can easily cover it up as well.  Nobody has to know!

When I got my tattoo pretty much no one I knew had one.  It was great.  I was an individual and I was expressing myself.  NOW EVERYONE HAS ONE!!!!  Now I feel less original and more band-wagony.

Most people now seem to be getting tattoos everywhere on their body and some even on their face.  Those tattoos along with piercings seem to be a little overwhelming (and equally career limiting) at times.

"I'm sorry, but you may never make it any further than President of the USA.  In the meantime, please take back these fries and this Big Mac and give me money back.  I seem to not be so much hungry anymore."

Now, I'll be honest, I'm open to most things with a live and let live kind of outlook on life, but I'll be even honester.  Just because I am okay with you doing something for yourself and expressing yourself in most non-physical-harm-to-others type ways, it doesn't mean I like these forms of expression.  The person pictured above may be a very nice and intelligent person.  I would gladly be their friend if we shared some common interests, but I'm not going to have sex with that person under any circumstance!  This is what I would consider to be an At-Arms-Length kind of friend!

Again, if this makes you feel better about yourself, then, go for it.  But, that look is not at all for me.

So, let me scale it back a bit...  I'm a complete traditionalist when it comes to piercings.  I am fine with ear piercings and multiple ear piercings.  After that, my experience is pretty limited.  I've not had anyone in my life who had "extra piercings."

There are many piercings one can get that, like my tattoo, they can easily hide.  Again, Live and Let Live, but, if there's a chance we're going to be intimate, please give me a heads up and a chance to see if I can get familiar/ comfortable with these add-ons.  I do not want that kind of surprise and I may need multiple opportunities to get used to you having such accessories.  I may never get used to them, but chances are, after multiple opportunities, I'm going to like you a lot more than I don't like the lightning rod you've permanently thrust through some collection of nerves on your body!

Now, Pierced Nostrils.... I don't get it.  I understand you wish to express something, but what?  I'm so old fashioned and pathetic (and my vision may be going with age) that I often find myself trying to let people know that they have a big 'ol crusty on their nose.  Then they get all mad at me. 

WHAT DOES THIS EXPRESS?  I SERIOUSLY DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!!

Now, again, just because you have a pierced nostril and I don't get it, it doesn't mean I think you are foolish, and it doesn't mean I don't like you and it doesn't mean I can't befriend you.  It just isn't for me.

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU HAVE A COLD AND YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR NOSE RING/STUD THINGS IN????   Ewwwwwww.....

So, like my tattoo (which I don't regret but am not as thrilled to have as I once was) we sometimes do things in our youth that we might later regret:

Some less physically permanent than others.

I was sitting in Church this past weekend when a lady with a runny nose stood up in the front and made the long walk down the center aisle to the back of the chapel.  Obviously she had made the moral decision that the anxiety one feels walking down the center aisle during the long walk as the Priest speaks outweighed the disturbance she was causing by blowing her nose.  The congregation appreciated her courage.

I was in the back and had the opportunity to watch her for the entire walk; it was as if she was in slow motion.  She was an older woman dressed in the elegant yet casual clothing a woman (maybe in her sixties) might wear to Church on a hot Sunday in the southeast.  She walked with confidence and carried herself gracefully.  She was attractive and I may have had some inappropriate thoughts about how she might've been in her earlier years.  Her skin was tanned; not quite to the leathery extreme but enough so that it may have added to her assumed age.  I can only imagine how long the walk was for her; an eternity I imagine.

As she walked, I had the opportunity to notice that some tissue was stuck to her nose.  It was stuck to the side of her nose.  IT WAS STUCK ON HER DIAMOND NOSE STUD!!!  Everyone had to see it.  Everyone had to wonder?  Perhaps this was akin to someone having toilet paper stuck to their shoe?  Perhaps it was some form of self-expression?

And so.... I felt I needed to break my nearly year long silence to share this flaw in my personality....
 
I don't always understand self expression.

Veteran's Day 2013

On one of my social media accounts today, a friend of mine commented rather negatively on an image of my daughter resting her hand on my Father's headstone at the National Cemetery in which he is buried. the comments offended and irritated me. 

I do not get upset easily but their words upset me a great deal. Whereas I used to be close to this person, many of those who could read their comments are not and would not understand why they would say such a thing, but, after a couple of folks actually reached out to me, I thought I needed to respond. 

This is what I felt I had to say:

Dear, YOUR NAME HERE, as I typically hold back on spouting out my opinion and passion in such a public forum, I had originally deleted your comment about "being a stickler" regarding how I “should not have posted this picture on Veteran's Day because Memorial Day is for those who have died.” However, I feel I must respond because, as much as I have enjoyed your company and respected your opinion in the past, on this particular day you could not have picked a worse image to spew out what I see as a certain level of ignorance under a picture that means the world to me!

First off, my Father served for more than two decades protecting us in the Submarine Service of our Navy. He and so many more heroes lay buried in this National Cemetery, a place that neither you nor I will EVER have the honor of being interred. His sacrifice and those of countless other soldiers and sailors will never be equaled by ANYTHING you and I will ever do for this or any nation.

Secondly, in dying he did not become any less of a veteran. This day is a day to remember any and all veterans of our military service whether they are living, dead, volunteered or were drafted, served one year or served their entire career.

Each and every day we live in this nation, whether or not we agree with the political climate, we need to be thankful that these heroes have been and are still here for us. Today is the day that we show that gratitude and remembrance on a Federal level. 

If you can't take my word for it, here, read about it on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Veterans_Day

Thirdly, what the hell is wrong with you? Criticizing me posting a picture of my daughter visiting my Father's grave site is never going to be well received. Keep that to yourself!

That headstone and the hundreds (perhaps even thousands by now) out there serve as a reminder to her and so many others of the impact these VETERANS have made and the importance of their lives in the eyes of our Nation.

I hope this small fraction of my thoughts on the matter helps you to better understand what today is about, especially to me.

If you touch me (just barely) I'll scream OUCH!!!

Testicles are an amazing thing (please feel free to stop reading now, but it will get better, I promise)! 

Yes, yes, they contribute to the procreation of our species... 

Mmmm hmmmm.... yes they respond to changes in the temperature what with their own sort of climate control settings (aka "shrinkage").

Yes, for the most part they're easily concealed...

All good points, but what I'm going for is their sensory to pain.

See, any man (and I'll be the man in these scenarios) can take a major impact to the groin, such as being kicked, and it won't phase him or his testicles.  There is no pain.  There is no concern.

However, someone could just toss that same man (me again) a pencil and it could just mildly bump him in the crotchal region and he (I) will be buckled over in pain, nauseated and on the verge of tears for the next hour.  There is a lot of pain, a whole lot of reflection on your life and past mistakes and pretty much an acceptance of, and almost welcoming desire for, dying REALLY SOON!!!

So, I have a theory.

The brain creates a sort of protective combination of realization and pain to serve as a self serving warning system to aid us all in staying alive.  So, if someone runs up and kicks you in the groin, you are well aware of it just by visual stimulus alone.  You know it happened, you couldn't miss it and it's time for you to go.  In most cases, your brain was prepared for the assault on the boys and knows that you are fully appraised of the situation.  The brain will turn off your pain sensors because pain is really just there to let you know something is going on.  Again, that foot feeling in your crotch is enough to tell you that something is going on!

However, it's the little innocent taps to the old batter barn that can bring one to their knees in a very bad way.  See, whether you saw it happen or not, your brain will turn on some serious pain indicators to let you know that there is a pending altercation going on below the belt.  Whether you saw it or not, your brain doesn't care, it DESPERATELY wants you to know that even though nothing traumatic has happened YET, something serious just might be about to go down!

This is what pain is all about.  It is to serve as a warning to let us know that something bad, that we may or may not be aware of, is going on.  So, my theory (which I have read about in articles before but am neither looking up nor quoting as sources as this is simply a blog and not a thesis) is that how we respond to pain is a trained response.

On a side note, as much as I love to work them into most conversations at casual social engagements, this blog is not about my testicles but is more about pain.  They just happened to be the best example I could think of and I will try my best not to mention them again.

You're welcome.

I was born with a very rare medical condition referred to as CIP (Congenital Insensitivity to Pain).  However, when I was born it was referred to as "Ma'am, I'm sorry but we don't know what the hell is wrong with your kid.  We think he doesn't feel pain" syndrome.  I really wasn't even sure if this was a real thing until around ten years ago when Dateline did a story about it.

I look back and think about how truly awful this must have been for my folks and for my Mom especially as Dad was at sea whenever I would experience an "episode."  For the most part, my situations were mild in that I would cut myself and would be completely unaware until Mom noticed the blood.

But twice I had very serious issues:

Once I removed a big toe playing with match box cars (because I'm just that intense when it comes to playing with matchbox cars) and when Mom told me it was time for dinner I told her I was bleeding.  She told me to rinse my cut off in the sink and I told her I couldn't reach the sink.  She came in to help me and I think she screamed and rushed me to the ER.  That's how we all found out I couldn't feel pain.

A second time (by now Mom was a seasoned pro) I managed to remove a heal by getting my foot stuck in the spinning spokes of the back tire on a bicycle whilst racing down hill.  I asked for a band-aid after being carried home to my Mom.  Yup... more screaming... another ER...

I got better.  In fact, as time went by I grew out of it.  Essentially, I am pretty lucky in that now, and probably since I was about 10 or 11, I feel pain.

Both of these events happened to me before I was 7 and as best as I can tell the greatest residual effect of these happening to me are not the small scar on the top of one heal or the one toe that seems to have a false or misplaced tendon underneath.  Nope, it's that I will say "OUCH" without any thought if I feel anything that isn't obviously painful.

See, my folks had to encourage me to say "ouch" whenever I felt anything.  Basically there was always the chance that I'd remove a limb playing with Lego's and the only thing that would prevent me from bleeding out would be me saying "ouch" while I tried to make a house out of all blue bricks.

I was trained to respond to any stimulus as pain.

Anyway, I caught myself saying "ouch" as I put my seat belt on this morning (much like I still say "excuse me" when I burp alone) and suddenly all of these thoughts popped into my head.  So, I thought I'd go ahead and blog for the first time in four months.

Yup, four months of silence and THIS is what I give you!

I hope you are well.

I didn't know I could sprain that.

I've mentioned before that I am blessed at my age to have a full head of hair.  I've also mentioned before that I had every intention of writing a follow up to the my previous article (Titled MOO-1... which I linked too in the third word of this posting).

This is not the follow up.

Just a quick posting to keep you up to date on my hair.

To re-cap, I have two cow-licks on the right side of my scalp; one in the front and one in the back.  For most of my youth I pretty much had a bowl cut (with two unsightly messy spots on the right side) but when puberty came about, I suddenly realized that I needed to impress girls.   So the bowl cut had to go.  I decided that what I really needed to do was part my hair on the left side (to the right) so I could look SECKSIE!

That was in 1984 and in the past 29 years since, I have still not achieved any level of "secksieness" that I am aware of.  It's pathetic.

Please note that I am not obsessed with hair care, or my hair styles.  I only remember it was 1984 because that was the year I started high school.

Parting my hair on the left side (to the right) caused my hair to pretty much poof up and and add about 2.5 to 3 inches to my height.  It was funny looking at best, but at the time it was cool because it was no bowl cut and I was taller.  It was also a pretty healthy distraction from my acne.

After two years of this, I got tired of fighting the urge for the hair on the right side of my scalp to push to the left whilst I was trying to force it all to go to the right.  So after two years of parting my hair on the left (to the right) I gave in to natures demands and starting parting my hair to the left (on the right).

It was much more natural and more comfortable.  The only time it every troubled me was when I would drive with the window down.  Since the driver's side is on the left in the States, the wind would blow my hair to the right thus trying it's best to part my hair on the left (to the right) again making me roughly 2-3 inches taller whenever I finished any particular road trip that involved open windows.

Forcing my hair to part on the left (to the right) again would actually make my scalp hurt back then.  But over the years, I got used to it.

So, for the past 27 years of my life, I have parted my hair the same way.  Sure, it's been longer and shorter at times.  It was cut like a mushroom once in the late 80's.  It was either the style of the day, or the woman cutting my hair hated me.  Seriously, the mushroom cut was where they essentially gave you a stylish bowl cut by damn near shaving your head from just above your ears and down the back of your neck while cutting the rest of your hair one length but making sure it never intruded over the shaved part.

I don't know if I described that well, but I don't care.

Before that, I had a mullet with short hair on the side, long bangs (I've always liked long bangs) and shoulder length on the back... Damn I was smooth!!!

And once, I cut my hair so short it was almost clean shaven.  I did that for a friend who was on chemo when a few of us opted to get together and shave our heads for him.  I don't think he ever lost his hair, no one else did it with me and my friend never saw me or knew that I had done so until my hair grew back...

I grew it all back and it is still quite thick.  I like it short in the back and on the sides and I like longish bangs.  It works for me.

So, this past Saturday (today is Monday) 27 years into my hair being parted on the right (to the left), my lovely child wanted to "do (my) hair."  It's very sweet when she does this as she does it every few months and it has never been a problem.

She spent an hour on it and I'm pretty sure I fell asleep once.  It was very relaxing until the last 15 minutes or so.  About 45 minutes into it, my hair started to hurt.  I'm sure it was my scalp where the roots are that actually hurt, but I could feel it in my hair.

As it turns out, she parted my hair to the right (on the left) essentially forcing my hair to go against nature and 27 years of tradition.   When my hair would not listen to her, she used "product" to make it happen.  She won and made it happen.

When she finished, she was all excited and told me how it made me look taller.  She was right.  It also made my hair shinier.

About a half of an hour after she finished my scalp was really aching.  I compare it to the feeling one has in their jaw after the orthodontist tightens their braces.

It's been two days now.  It still hurts to run my fingers through my hair and it isn't comfortable to sleep and rest my head on my big giant pillow.

MY GOD... I THINK SHE SPRAINED MY SCALP!!!

On a quick side note, if you haven't caught on, I don't know if you describe a part by where it is (on the right or on the left) or by which direction it goes (to the left or to the right).  I apologize for the unnecessary words used to explain which side my part was on and which direction it was forcing my hair to go....

The volcano may be turning dormant.

Well, as of today, it has been a year...  What a grand experiment!

I started this blog on June 21 of 2012 mainly because many many many people complained about my long winded status updates on my personal Facebook page.   Then, one person highly recommended that I start a blog.  By "highly recommended" I mean that she pretty much threatened me with death or worse, to unfriend me on Facebook, if I didn't find another outlet for my thoughts.

She mentioned blogger.com and that was all I needed.

This pretty much became a "Dear Diary" therapeutic type thing for me and it helped me express myself as I wished without having to impose upon those on Facebook whom I consider "friends."  What amazed me and continues to do so is that, people actually read this!  Thank you.

As I recall, I wrote every day in a row for the first 63 or so days.  How I did that, I am not entirely sure but it was a lot of fun simply writing about what was on my mind.  However, I gave myself some rules in that I refused to write about the things that truly anger me, depress me or are controversial in most senses of the word.  I didn't start this blog to change anything or anyone and I haven't done it to convince anyone of any personal issue or to impact any one's life in anyway.

However, by setting those rules for myself, I've kind of limited myself.  By avoiding anger and controversy, sadness and pain, I have the happy to write about, but I just cannot get too personal.  So I opted for the happy inane thoughts and events in my life.  I'm actually surprised to admit that my whole life isn't as inane as I had thought when I first started this.  And in limiting myself, I found myself not having as much to write about as the year has gone on.

I liken my brain to Vesuvius (sans the death toll) in that, I was full of thoughts, I was overwhelmed by the pressure to get these thoughts out, I vented a few here and there and then suddenly I erupted into the Blogosphere upon an unsuspecting Pompeii (that'd be those of you reading).  I imagine some people got stuck staring at this blog from time to time, simply trapped as if they have been turned to stone by the volcanic ash of my Vesuvian-verbiage!  Yup, I made that up!!!!

As of the moment I am composing this, I have published 144 posts in 365 days of which the first 63 or 65 of them happened in the first 63 or 65 days.  I also have 15 currently waiting to be published some of which have been in the "draft" phase since day one.

It dawned on me early on that people all over the world randomly read blogs on a daily basis.  I am amazed that I have readers all over the planet.  In the last year, the TOP TEN nations to read the blog have been:

1. The United States
2. Russia
3. Germany
4. United Kingdom
5. Latvia
6. France
7. Canada 
8. Sweden
9. Turkey
10. India

And those are just the double to quadruple digit nations (and blogger only keeps track of the top ten at any given time).  In the last month Spain and Switzerland have checked in often.  And in the last week Japan, Poland, Uruguay, Pakistan and Indonesia have been following me.

THIS AMAZES ME!!!

I have a few friends who write blogs.  Forgive me for not directing you to their blogs but I'm going link free today.  Some of them use their blog as a place to practice their writing skills.  Some are happy and some are dark.  One friend writes a brilliant review of foods she likes to make and places she likes to eat.  Another has made of a career of traveling to places and blogging about it for the places she visits.  What a great career!  I had no idea that any of this was going on when I started.

The thought of making money on this was very intriguing!  Blogger offers a way to make money but I have to say they seem to be rather vague in their rules as to how one may generate an income and from what I understand, one doesn't make too much form them.  Essentially you apply with them to allow them to place advertisements on your page.  They find an audience to cater to after reviewing your site and BINGO, you make like 1 dollar a month!

I tried.  The first step was to create a Facebook page to compliment and direct people to the blog.  It kind of worked!

I say "kind of" because, well, whenever I post a link to my latest blog addition on the Facebook page, I do see a quick response in readers.  However, by creating the Facebook page no one had a reason to follow the blog when they could just follow the page.  I know that it's kind of the same thing as one relates to the other, but... well I don't know, but something about that just seems wrong.  I don't know why.

Regardless, it works.

Originally I was posting the link to the blog on my personal Facebook page but I think that still managed to drive "friends" nuts.  The new Facebook page for the blog turned out to be a hit and maintained readers.  However, it did not appease the advertising Gods.

Upon reviewing my blog for advertising, I received a message that broke down to saying that I don't really have a particular audience.... 

So much for this as a fall back career!

 Now, I have learned that I truly enjoy the writing and putting my thoughts to page, but, I always have to hold back.  Mainly, I hold back out of respect, or perhaps, fear....  I have family whom I wish to not ostracize, but DAMN they create such fun and awkward situations.... I have friends, whom may not forgive me if I spout out our Vegas-esque escapades... I have people, or at least one person, who read this to find out what awful things I may say that they could use against me in a court of law... and then, I just don't want to turn this into a one sided bitch-session.

Seriously, there are what, like 7 billion people on this planet and at any given moment, my life has got to be at least 50 times better than maybe 6 billion of those people!  Yet, daily, something is going on in my life that just might be "THE WORST THING EVER" as I often hear any dramatic experience described in the elementary school social scene!

I could write a blog solely on all of the negativity that is around but, man, have you looked out there at all the negative blogs?  It ain't me!  I could see where it would feel very good to write a bitchy blog, much like truly cursing someone out (who totally deserved it) or quitting a terrible job feels GREAT, for about fifteen minutes until reality sets in...  But once you tap into that negativity, you just encourage it and strengthen like a muscle until, eventually, it's all you know. 

Seriously, I know at least one furiously self-absorbed negative person who has grown so accustomed to being angry all the time that they've decided everyone around them is always angry all the time too and is therefore defensive towards and angry at EVERYONE!  I pray they're wrong.  Maybe I'm naive....

I'm getting off point....  That's my thing!

So here it is, soon to  be published post #145.   At the time of writing this, I've had 3987 hits on this page and hope to break 4k with today's post.

After today, I'm not sure when I'll post again.  As you can see on this page (to the right) my monthly posts have seriously dwindled since I started.  I think a post a week is healthy, but man, did I set my standards high when I first started.

When I first started, something would happen to me, or I'd notice something from a different perspective, and I'd think to myself "I need to write that out RIGHT NOW" and I totally would.  Now when something pops in my head that I should write out, I find myself thinking "I need to write that out, RIGHT NOW!... orrrrrr, I could go over there and do something else...."  and I'm distracted.

I liken this to waking up in the middle of the night because you have to go to the bathroom, but you are too tired to get up and go and so you convince yourself to just lie there and go back to sleep. It takes time, but you eventually fall back asleep and then have those awkward dreams of wetting the bed and so you finally get up about five minutes before your alarm and make a mad dash to the bathroom only to have your alarm go off while you're in there and then suddenly everyone in the house is awake because you refused to address a necessity that needed to get out in lieu of your own personal desire to sleep you selfish bastard!!!

Wait... what was I saying? 

Oh yeah.... so, I have these thoughts to write down but I try to get to it later and in putting it off, I create more of a frustration when I try to get to it later....

I don't know what I'm trying to say here anymore today.

I think I'll stop here and come back around in July... or maybe August....

I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to go to the bathroom.  C-ya.

If I yell at my TV it will still NOT turn itself on. And the same goes for squirrels!

One of the kids I spend my days with got really mad the other day.  Really REALLY mad!

She simply started yelling, dropped her paperclips put her hands out in the air in a surrendering gesture and stepped away from the table as if she just shot the guy across from her.  As it turns out, I was the guy across from her, so I'm grateful there was no gun play.  It was not me she was yelling at.

She was yelling at the paperclips.

Yes, the paperclips.

She was trying to manipulate them and do something with them that they apparently did not wish to do.  By her reaction to the lack of accommodation or compromise that the paperclips were willing to give her, she opted to yell at them as if they were a living being choosing to be a pain in her ass.

At this point, the father figure in me opted to make this a lesson.  I seem to remember this happening to the Beave' in one of those episodes where Ward was trying to help him make a puppy out of an erector set... or something like that.

So, I discussed with her:
- the merits of controlling ones (mostly hers) temper
- you cannot scold or correct the behavior of inanimate objects
- paperclips are inanimate objects
- that means they aren't alive
- no, they don't think
- no, there are no Mommy and Daddy paperclips
- no, yelling at them won't change anything
- no, the problem is with what you're trying to do
- no you're not stupid, you just have to practice
- here let me show you
- how did you get me to do this
- just, just don't yell at things....

So, yes, I found myself make a keyring out of a paperclip on which to place all of the other paperclips.  By the time I was almost done, she had moved on.

I'm sure this is a phase we all go through.  Some of us grow out of it.  Some of us (you know who you are) do not.  But like most anything a parent tries to instill in children, you have to say it to them a couple of THOUSAND TIMES before it finally sinks in.

Anyway, this got me to thinking....  I am not a yeller.  I am not an angry person.  Although people who are angry at me because they're really mad at themselves seem to think I am an angry person.  I do get angry.  It takes a lot to get me angry.  You do not want to make me angry.  Seriously, it's counter productive and I'm not good at it.

So, I too once had to learn the life lesson of not yelling at or trying to scold or even correct the behavior of inanimate objects (or angry people).  They just will not respond to anger or loud noises.  And their lack of response tends to make angry people angrier.

Granted, it still happens from time to time.  Surely you can think of an example?  Like when you are trying to load the black ink cartridge into the printer, you know, the one you JUST took out to shake up and now it won't go back in.  So you try it from every angle but it just wont fit.  So you try to cram it in... smash it in... force it in there so hard that you hope to make it an example for the other printer cartridges (magenta, cyan and that yellow one whatever it's called) so they know to never be as difficult.. and eventually you have to buy a new printer because, well, things escalated and it turns out that the printer was in cahoots with the cartridge and now it had to die so that the rest of the printers would learn how we deal with bad printers!!!!

Or like when your weed eater keeps breaking the line too quickly and it gets so frustrating that you have to swing the whole thing over your head and smash it to the ground in front of you into teeny tiny bits just like you're the Hulk acting out the song "I've been working on the railroad!!!"

Just take a deep breath... in and out, in and out... find a happy place....


So, you get the picture.... we just have to grow up and learn to take deep breaths and pray that our children never learn the deep dark secrets of what we did to that printer... and its friends....

I think kids have to act out these issues and learn these lessons early.  It helps them learn to not yell at animate objects either. 

For example, just today, I went home for lunch and discovered that the squirrels ATE ALL OF MY DAMNED MARIGOLDS!!!!  I just filled my planters a week ago.  I thought I'd liven it up a bit and I planted Vincas, Begonias, Petunias and Marigolds in my planters.

If there's anything you should know about me, it's that I am not good with keeping flowers alive.  As seen in this article here:  By the way, the plant in the cup has since died.... 

And so here I am, trying to make my home all homey for my lil' homie (my kid) by planting flowers AND THE DAMN SQUIRRELS ARE EATING THEM!!!

But what can I do, I can't yell at them, I can't punish them and I certainly can't make an example of them.  Seriously, I don't know what fight the car tires in my neighborhood have going on with squirrels, but they make an example of a squirrel a day on average and it's just not getting through to the little rodents.

If I were a squirrel, I'd move out of my neighborhood and leave people's marigolds alone.

Come to think of it, I think they ate my Petunias too.  I'm telling my tires!!!

I got off point again somewhere....

Pantlet- Act 3 Scene 1

To wear pants, or not to wear pants: that is the question: 

Whether 'tis nobler in the summer to suffer
The fabric and rubbing of outrageous pants legs,
Or to take arms (legs) against a sea of denims,

And by opposing end them? To wear pants: to wear shorts;
No more; and by shorts to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural socks
That flesh is leg hairs to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To wear pants, to wear shorts;
To wear shorts: perchance to feel the breeze: ay, there's the rub;
For in that legless clothing of leglessness what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this knees and legs covering coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long pants legs;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of walking around in nothing,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's costumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy pants,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bottom? who would Levis bare,
To grunt and sweat under a weary restraining pant leg,
But that the dread of something after pants,
The uncover'd legs from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bare those legs we have
Than zip up our fly to others that we know not of?
Thus pants (and all constricting clothing) does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native pantless hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er the pale legs,
And enterprises of great fashion sense and practicality
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy short shorts
Be all my shorts and kilts remember'd.


Okay, so, it took some work, and I had to change some of Shakespeare's wording (or at least, the words he

 most likely stole from someone else) but I think I've made my point.

I DON'T LIKE WEARING PANTS!!!

Yesterday has taught me something... I'm not quite sure what it is, but, I think I'm getting older.

I woke up yesterday very tired from the night before.  I've no idea what I did the night before other than have a glass of wine and get to bed before ten.  At 6 am I was beyond sleepy whereas I usually wake up closer to 5 am annoyingly ready to go.

Perhaps I got too much sleep?  I guess it could happen.

I had a banana for breakfast.  I often have bananas for breakfast.  Sure, I could tell you something like "I'm trying to eat healthy" but that's not really the case.  I just really like bananas.

I've had a few people ask me if I'm eating that to lose weight?  I could do to lose some weight but that's not my intention.  Really, I just have a hard time with breakfast and a banana is a good size meal for me.  I have to make myself eat something.

Besides, I don't think eating bananas is good for weight loss.  Have you seen a gorilla?  THEY'RE FREAKIN' MASSIVE!!!!

I eat bananas and that is why I am the size I am... and y'know, come to think of it, my back hair is turning a lovely shade of silvery grey!!!  So, there's that too.  I may be one of those mysterious Silver Back Gorilla Dads.

And see, that's one of the clues to my aging body issues... I'm a Dad.

I love being a Dad.

Before becoming a Dad I had spent nine years getting to work by 4:30 am.  I should make a point to mention here that I did not become a Dad at 9 (although I totally coulda).  No I had spent 33 years simply existing before the gift of fatherhood arrived at my doorstep.  It just happened to be from years 24 to 33 that I spent going in to work by 4:30 am!

Anyway, I never needed coffee during all those years and I almost never had a bite of food before 9 am.  It just wasn't my nature to get up and eat.  And of course, with all of my hyper spastic energies, I never needed coffee.

About two days after becoming a Dad I started drinking coffee.  I LOVE THE STUFF!!!!

I also realized I had to feed my child first thing in the day and last thing at night... and a few times during the day... and a few times during the night...  Suddenly I found myself eating first thing in the day.. and the last thing at night... and  a few times....etc...

I needed the energy in order to try to keep up with the kid.

8 years later I work a regular 9 to 5 and I have coffee for breakfast; most days, with a side of banana.

So, aging has forced me into the go-juice and nanners morning meal.  Good stuff.

Now, back to my story...

Yesterday was my daughters last day of the school year.  It was... A HALF DAY!!!!  For the past several years I have either taken a half day as well or the whole day off.  Yesterday I took a half day.  Good times!

Upon arriving to work that morning, I sat at my desk and did very little as the clock slowly ticked on.... It seems like the day is longest when you know you're going to get out early.  Although it actually feels longest on the last day before a vacation.

Anyway, my half day lingered.  I ate my banana at my desk around 9-ish.

I did not have lunch.

I picked my child up around noon along with two other kiddos.  The four of us were going to have A DAY!!!

But I was still so tired.

They had eaten lunch at school so we opted to go out and get some "FRO-YO!"  Apparently that's how we trendy people (I did not know I was trendy) are supposed to refer to our FROzen YOgurt.  So, we went to one of those do -it-yourself frozen yogurt places where they give you a bowl, let you fill it up with whatever you want (yogurt and toppings) and then they weigh your order and charge by the pound.

Why is America so obese now? 

So, for me, it was FRO YO for lunch!  That seemed healthy enough.

I only had some sort of cake batter "low fat" yogurt with some granola on top... and some crushed oreos... and maybe some white chocolate chips... AND THAT'S ALL!!!!  Sadly, they had no chocolate covered bacon for my YO.

Altogether, three elementary school kids and I ordered $25 worth of weighed food.  It's easy to be a glutton if you say "screw it" to your budget.

After we finished my lunch and their second lunches, we opted to go back to the house and play video games as it was way too hot outside.  So the kids played video games and I went to take a nap.  1 Banana and 9 to 10 pounds of FRO YO (and stuff) apparently does not help much with the low energy.  But then again, Gorillas sleep all day, covered in their banana leaves, and they're the picture of health.

So I tried my best, but somewhere along the way my nap went horribly wrong.  I was aware of this when I awoke to three kids (and a large dog) in bed with me, all watching TV.  I tried my best to ignore them, but eventually the waves of "what the hell did I really have for lunch" nausea got me up!

After a while, it just seemed better to go outside and do something.

On a side note, why didn't I enjoy taking a nap when I was a kid?  What the hell was wrong with me?

We decided to get in the pool.  Me and three kids (all under four feet or close enough) in a pool means only one thing:

I AM THE TARGET!!!
and THEY'RE GOING TO SCREAM!!!
and MY EARS ARE GOING TO HURT FROM ALL THE SCREAMING!!!
and I AM AN ISLAND THEY ARE GOING TO TRY TO CLIMB ON!!!
and WHEN THEY GET ON MY SHOULDERS THEY ARE GOING TO JUMP OFF!!!
and I AM GOING TO HAVE TO TRY TO THROW THEM!!!
and THAT WILL EXHAUST ME!!!
and I AM GOING TO HAVE TO SWIM UNDERWATER TO GET AWAY FROM THEM!!!
and AT LEAST ONE OF THEM WILL HANG ON TO MY SHOULDERS WHILE I DO SO, YOU KNOW, " FOR THE RIDE!!!"

So, okay, it means actually all 9 of those things happen pretty much every five minutes over the course of two hours.  Of course, that's not all that I had to do.  There was more, like the fact that I was the life guard and I was the referee and I had to be the grown up and, oh yeah, I had to remove the SNAKE FROM THE POOL!!!

"I'm just a harmless dolphin ma'am."

It was just a baby rat snake, but, as it turns out, kids (and silver backed gorilla dads) do not care much for snakes slithering past their heads in a pool!  That's what I get for living in the Southeastern USA.

After that, I was spent.  I cooked a dinner of pasta Alfredo with chicken and broccoli (finally a meal) and then watched some TV before going to bed.

Then, this morning it dawned on me that, as it turns out, although gorillas can spend a whole day tossing luggage around their room, much like one might toss three elementary kids around a pool, they pay for it the next day.

This morning, I woke up sore.

I woke up slow.

I woke up tired.

I woke up not wanting to eat.

I knew why!

I had my coffee.

I skipped my banana... I had it for lunch.

Just a little something about nothing.

I once wrote song lyrics about how I had nothing to sing about.  I presented it to my band mates and they didn't like it.

The lyrics evolved.

I re-submitted the little ditty and it was now about how little I had to sing about because I was lost without some girl.  The band mates refused it.

I was confused because how can you go wrong if your following the whole "boy meets girl, girl meets boy, boy sees a life long relationship forming between them, girl sees a boy, boy tells her of his undying love for her under a star lit sky, girl sees a silhouette  of some other boy while the first boy is telling her something about nothing really under a star lit sky, boy doesn't understand why girl is walking away, girl just needs space already or at least, just enough space to talk to the other boy, first boy is heart broken, second boy meets girl, girl is just awful..." formula?  "It's a HIT Baby!"  Is all I thought to myself.

The song evolved.

Submitted.

Rejected.

Evolved.

Submitted...

Rejected...

You get the point...

Eventually the lyrics were just what the band felt this song needed.  And so, the song was me singing a true story about how a developer came in and wiped out a local forest where I grew up and built a false lake and planted new trees so they could develop lake front houses in a brand new forest and sell the houses for a quite a large profit.  All of which is still a metaphor in my mind for the whole previously mentioned silhouette chasing skank!

But it worked.  We released the song locally (on cassette because I'm old and that's all we had back then) and it was received pretty well by those who I might be able to call "fans" but who were mostly just charitable friends willing to fork out a few bucks for a cassette.

Fast forward to today, 20 something years later...

I have absolutely nothing to write about today.  I've been so busy that my mind is overly preoccupied with the day to day goings ons that this is all I have for you.  It's good to be busy, but my mind appears to wander less.

When my mind wanders less I believe I am genuinely much happier as I have less time to think about all the things that suck.  However, I have equally less time to expand on all the things that intrigue me.  If I have less time to expand on intriguing things, I find it difficult to reach my inane points.  And of course, if I am unable to reach an inane point, I find it difficult to type out a blog for the sake of my own well being.

So, this article... me typing out what appears to be a lot about not much... this is what I have to offer you today.

I submit it to you.

You may reject it if you like.

I will evolve.

Have a nice day.

I want to compliment you Miss, but perhaps I should just shut up instead.

I once had an "acquaintance," who was really just a former co-worker, whom I never really got along with although he did have some acceptable qualities about him.  For example, he knew he was an ass; I could accept that.

This post isn't about him, but I must start off by using his words.

He paid a woman a compliment one day.  A compliment that I would NEVER pay someone.  A compliment that I would find offensive, but to him it was not.  To him, it seemed acceptable and for her it appeared to make her feel good.

In his deep southern drawl, he simply said:
 "You know, you don't sweat much for a big girl.  You smell clean.  I like that."

As best as I can tell, she liked it and he was sober.  I thought to myself "wow, there's someone for everyone."  Perhaps his wife agreed?  I wondered if he would pay her such a compliment?

A small part of me respected him a little for his courage to pay such a compliment. In all actuality, I respected him for attempting any compliment.

I am afraid to go out and pay a woman a compliment most times.

I fear women.

I feel much anxiety when I take the risk of trying to say something I think is nice!  I've gotten myself in trouble before.

I learned long ago to NOT COMPLIMENT THEIR ANATOMICAL DIFFERENCES FROM MINE!!!  Typically, that would only happen when drinks were involved, and I was particularly crass, stupid, foolish, young and did I say "drinks were involved?"  yes, I did...  When I am involved with drinks I say dumb things.

As I grew older, and the women I knew started having kids of their own, I learned not to compliment them on their baby bumps.  Mainly because sometimes, that's not what that bump is.  As it is, I have a "baby bump" these days.  No one makes the mistake of complimenting me.

I fear the risk of "the trap" question/ compliments... You know something like these:

     - "How does this dress make me look?"
     - "Do you prefer the COLOR OF PARTICULAR OUTFIT HERE or the OTHER COLOR OF OTHER/ MAYBE SIMILAR OUTFIT HERE?" 
      -"Do you think I should cut my hair?"
      -"Do you think I need to lose weight?"

THERE ARE NO RIGHT ANSWERS. EVEN IF YOU TRY TO ANSWER WITH A COMPLIMENT,  YOU ARE BEING SET UP!!!!

These are traps that men have been up against since the beginning of time.  "Og, does this saber tooth skin make my butt look too big?"  Og's safest bet was to simply say "Og be right back" and then either go club himself in the head or just jump into a volcano.

Of course, I can easily  get myself in trouble by paying a compliment and saying "You look radiant today!"  I've learned over time that I need to not use the word "TODAY!"  That one word can get me into so much trouble.

As George Carlin once said, "There are no bad words.  Only bad meanings.."  He said something like that.  He was right!

"TODAY" can have such an awful meaning when you compliment someone on how beautiful they are.  It must've taken me 100 times, or perhaps thousands, of saying  some variation of "you look pretty today" before I realized that each and every time the compliment would be completely avoided and I would get the response of, "Today? Did I not look good yesterday?"

Of course, I would dig myself into a bigger hole by saying something stupid like "Of course, you were beautiful yesterday and every day I've known you. But today you've obviously made an effort and I appreciate it!"  Which would get a response of "Oh, so now I need to make an effort for you to find me beautiful?"  And so on and so on and so on...

Eventually I would leave and look for a volcano...

I have to add right now that this has happened to me several times with a few different women, but has NOT HAPPENED IN YEARS.... I REPEAT NOT IN YEARS!!!! 

Seriously though, I have heard it said that those who spend too much time making themselves beautiful on the outside are not as beautiful on the inside and in some of my experience, I have found that to be true.  But how do you compliment someone on not trying too hard and therefore being a more beautiful/ less self-centered person?

"I love you... You don't care how you look... You don't even try... and that's what makes you beautiful!"  NOPE!!!!


So yes, even after years of experience and learning from my mistakes, I still screw up....

As a Dad, I've come to realize that I had a GREAT childhood and I am reliving some of it through my kid.  I am constantly reminded of things that made me smile, or that I found beautiful growing up.  If I compliment a woman and that compliment reminds me of my childhood, I am being very sincere!

For example, I went out of my way to compliment the wife of a friend of mine on her outfit one night.  She is actually my friend as well, but I must specify the whole "she is a wife and I like her husband" thing because I had NO AGENDA.  I just wanted to be nice.  So, I told her how much I liked her dress and necklace because it reminded me of Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble!

My First Loves!

This is a HUGE compliment from me!  These women were my first indicators that there was much more for me out there besides just Star Wars and Legos.  I loved Wilma and Betty!  They were classy and hot!

So, the friend wife of the friend was in a sort of dress/ wrap thing with a large beautiful necklace on.  I said what came to mind first, which was the Flinstones thing.  She didn't speak to me again that night.  He says she wasn't upset and that he thought the same thing, but that he would've never said that to her.  She speaks to me now, it's been a year... We've never spoken of my compliment again.

I learned nothing....

Recently I ran into a friend of mine and his family, his wife is my friend as well too but again I must specify the whole "NO AGENDA" thing.  They all had different hats on as they were in the sun.  I told the daughter that her hat reminded me of one I had from Disney Land as a kid.  I told the son that I liked the team on his baseball hat.  I told the husband that I liked his Panama Jack hat but that he looked like he was trying to be Panama Jack in his later years "you know, after he gave up and let himself go..."  Because that is the kind of compliment men pay men.

I told the wife that I loved her hat and that it reminds me of the Abominable Snowman in Miami with Bugs Bunny!

Ahhhh... Childhood Memories.

I am still learning.  Apparently, one should never use the words "Abominable Snowman" and "You look like" in the same sentence when complimenting a woman.  Who knew?

I think the safest bet for me, you know, to compliment women I am attracted to, is to tell them how much they remind me of my Mom!  Women like that, right?