{ The things I come up with... }

Heavily Laced With Tangents...

2008-01-07T11:25:00.000-05:00

I had an interesting weekend. I read about how the north was getting blasted with cold weather as I stared out at the balmy 70 degree Florida sunshine. Sure, I could feel bad for the folks up north but it was so darn pretty outside I forgot to.
Shorts and flips-flops, people. Shorts and flip-flops.
Sometimes, I really love living in Florida.
So I was thinking that it's that time of year again. You know what I mean, right?
The New Year's Resolution crowd invades your local Gym.
For the record, I was once one of those people, but I have seen the error of my ways and now walk the straight and narrow.
At least as far as exercise goes.
I get up at 5'ish most days to work out.
I'm no health Nazi, mind you. I like food too much for that, but I do compensate for my eating with some needed cardio and weights and the like. When January rolls around, all the Gym regulars start getting twitchy.
Newb Season. (Not to be confused with n00b season... and yes, there is a difference)
All those folks who, in a fit of guilt from one too many pieces of holiday fruitcake, decide to come to the gym and gum up the works by taking all of the machines in random order. They usually don't have a clue what they want to accomplish and they end up lost.
What the do manage to do is throw everyone else off of their routine.
All the cardio machines being used. And not according to the manugfacturers established guidelines either. Weights? Strewn about like toys in the kids playpen at the local pediatric office.
Honestly. Can't you at least clean up after yourself?
The come in like deer out of the early morning fog. Not quite awake, not quite asleep. Really proud of the fact that they are there at all.
Nice.
Way to go.
You did it!
They sniff around the room and read the posters on the wall that show proper positions for stretching and working those deltoids. Ten minutes on the tread mill a few pumps with the 5 lb free weights and about 20 minutes trying to figure out how to change the weight amount on the nautilus machine (you pull the pin out from where it is and insert it at your desired weight...) and then, when they feel winded, the pack up and leave.
Sometimes, rarely, you'll see them a second day.
Last year we even had a few that lasted almost and entire month.
I wish them well but you know right off the bat who's going to last and who is going to fade.
Inevitably that usually means all of them.
I've never conducted a survey or a study, but I would guess that less than 1 in 20 actually stick with working out in the morning for any substantial length of time. Or even long enough to have an impact on their life.
Sad, but true.
This year has been light so far. I've only seen 3 gym newbs. They seem to have their stuff together so it hasn't been bad.
I'd high five them but they're not here at the moment.
I think that cold snap we had just after New Year's might have put the premature kibosh on the rest of the Resolution crowd.
(And before you get your thermal underoos in a bunch... it was in fact cold here. In the 20's! In Florida! Yeah, I can't believe it either!)
Did the pizza and movie night thing on Saturday which was kind of cool because instead of eating the pizza at home, we ended up sitting in the little hole in the wall joint for some freshness. I guess the crew that ran the restaurant weren't really used to dine-in customers. The accommodations were spartan to say the least but they really went out of their way to make us feel welcome.
Paper plates, napkin and those really high end red plastic cups.
No expense was spared.
It brought me back to my youth in NYC. Eating at one of the seven million Ray's Pizzeria and Delicatessens in the Tri-State area.
At least I think they were all Ray's. Might have been a Joey or Sal tossed in there too.
I think there was a Vito in there somewhere as well.
Good times.
The kids sort of wondered why we were sitting there instead of just taking it to go like we always do until the pizza showed up.
Then it was all about the Pizza.
Isn't it always about the pizza?
Don't forget to stretch yo.

Post Holiday Blahs...

2008-01-04T16:25:00.000-05:00

It's Friday.
Normally a wOOt!-worthy concept. But my get-up-and-w00t! has-got-up-and-went. Where's a good freaking w00t! when you need one? I'm about ready to call in a beer strike.
It's like an air strike but with beer.
Short on the boom but long on the foam.
It's Friday. I think I might have mentioned that already. Friday on a short week no less and I am here pulling out my ever dwindling supply of hair and wondering what is taking 5 o'clock so long to get here. Did it stop for directions? Maybe it decided to pick up some take out for the ride home. Maybe it got pulled over for speeding? Or it could have that stomach thing going around and is currently curled into the fetal position at the closest porcelain throne.
Whatever.
Just get here already.

This wouldn’t be so bad if I had a few sharp pencils to flick into the ceiling tile. That would at least keep me entertained for a bit.
It’s not like I’m not working either. I am . Rendering video, posting web ads, checking my email and stuff.
Good times.
Really.
But it’s Friday. I know we just finished up the holiday season and all that but I spent so much time with family I need more time off.
You know how it is right?
Sure you do.
I’d play with my Christmas present, except I didn’t get one.
Not all that strange. Long story. No biggie really.
You’d think with my behavior I could have finagled a lump of coal or something.
That might have been interesting.

What makes it worse it that everyone around me has Fridayitis. They are all looking for a good excuse to cut out of class early. That leaves me with no one for desktop football.

I think I’m stuck in one of those Sci-Fi show time warp things where the good guys get stuck in some Ground Hog Day-esque loop that drives them batty.
It’s like the clock is permanently stuck on 4:15.
Crap.
I just looked at the clock and it’s actually 4:12.
I’m going in reverse.

A Geek Among Men...

2007-10-25T08:34:00.000-05:00

I know I'm getting to this party late. It's the story of my life. We'll set that one aside for another blog. Right now I want to talk about the current flavor of the day.
Battlefield 2.
It's everything a guy wants in a good action movie. Planes, guns, bad guys, high powered explosives, good times. The best part is that you get to play the hero.
That's right. A video game.
My brother in law and his buddies have been on this kick for like years. Me, never one to rush out and drop $60 on a game, never joined ranks. Still, whenever BIL and I hung out, we'd spool up his 'puter and grab a few man juices (beer to the uninitiated) and veg out while our kids tore up the house.
Good times.
I finally broke down and picked up the game on sale at Wal-Mart and now I'm like a total BF2 Crack head. I've even created a new Avatar just for my BF2 buddies...

I'm not all that good at it mind you.
I get blown up a lot.
Run over by tanks.
Hit by enough artillery to sink the Bismark.
Still, good times.
Even went Uber Geek and joined an online gaming clan.
GASP!!
Yeah. How you like them apples? Now I have something to do since baseball season is almost over.
Look, Battlestar Galactica won't be on for a few more months so I've got some time to kill. At least I've made some new friends.
I'm excited, aren't you?
You are. I can tell.
I have a sense about these things.
If you happen to play BF2 and want to earn a few easy frags, I'm usually playing Friday and Saturday nights. Look for ThePocketgeek. I'll be the one getting shot or blown up or run over...

Old Dog... New Tricks...

2007-07-10T13:02:00.000-05:00

Well, it had to happen sooner or later. Nothing lasts forever. Hey, look, thirteen years is a long time okay? What did you expect? Some relationships don't last nearly as long as this one did.
It's a bittersweet moment for me. It really is.
While I am looking forward to this new phase of my life, I can't help but think about the life I am leaving behind. This isn't the first such moment for me. Does that make it worse?
The one thing I have learned over the years is that change in inevitable and you have to accept that. You have to roll with the punches and you have to remember to take the good memories with you and just let go of the bad.
I won't remember the times she left me high and dry on more than one occasion. Or that she slowly became high maintenance when she use have simpler needs.
I know that it's not all her fault. There were things I could have done to keep things going. To fix the little things in this before they became the big things.
But I am not alone in blame. But thats not what this blog is about today. No.
Instead, being the magnanimous individual that I am, I will fondly recall they way she used to respond to my touch, the way I could set her racing on the very edge of control. It's a rare thing when you connect on that kind of level, you know?
Ah, the good times.
She demanded that sort of expertise. Her smooth curves and graceful body always made me smile. I loved to just run my hands along...
But I digress.
You have to have a steady, sure hand. That sort of confidence is rewarded.
But over the years things have changed. We have grown apart. True, she's not what she once was but that's not why we are going our separate ways. When it comes down to it, I have needs that she is simply not meeting. In fact, her outrageous demands on my time have become tedious.
I just don't have the strength to fight her anymore.
I need a little peace of mind. I need stability, energy.
Fun.
Remember when it was fun to play together?
I guess that I really just can't afford her moodiness any longer. I'm still young, I want to have fun.
Is that so wrong?
I hate myself for thinking it, I'll be honest. I feel no small amount of guilt for abandoning her like this. But the sad truth is that a man has to do what a man has to do.
And when you get a chance to trade in the old model for something as fresh and young as this...
Well. What would you do in my place?
That's right. I thought as much.
You too would ditch the balky '90 Celica for the cute little '04 Mazda 3 with the hot body and the leather bra.

My new hottie...

My kind of town

2007-06-29T15:53:00.000-05:00

I took the family up to visit family over the weekend to Chicago. I haven't been there in 30 years.
30 years!?!
Holy canoli. I'm actually old now. Look, when you can say that you haven't been somewhere for 30 years and you remember the previous time you were there, guess what?
You're old.
Long drive. Did I mention that? Yeah, we drove. With the whole clan. Wife, three kids and only two DVD's that didn't skip.
Flushed Away was a great movie the first 6 times I listened in...
After that the slugs were getting on my nerves.
18 or 19 hours later we were stuck in traffic next to US Cellular Field, a rather impressive piece of Sports Architecture, right at the Southside Sox got underway againt the Northside Cubbies.
Good times.
Too bad I didn't have tickets. Would have been nice to catch a game.
We were there on a mission. Helping a family member or three return to the Sunshine state so there was little time for sightseeing.
I know, sad, right? I thought so too. The trip wasn't a total waste. I did manage to score me a box of fresh off the grill White Castle cheeseburgers.
Oh yeah. More Beautiful.
It was all hot and steamy and gooey.
A belly full of slyders.
Good times.
We also sampled the local version of Pizza. Not the deep dish. Something called a footlong. It was alot better than I have been led to believe. I was always told that Chicago Pizza was nothing compared to the Hey Joeys served in the Big Apple but I will admit that the one we had was different but it held its own.
I suppose the best part of the trip was getting to see family that I have not seen in like a decade.
I hate it when I realize that its been so long. I always end up making a promise to never let it get that way again.
And I am sure I will remember this promise in ten years or so too.
Well. It's Friday and I am ready to go home.
Peace out.

Slip N Slide forever...

2007-05-14T16:57:00.000-05:00

Slip 'N Slide. Remember that? Long sheet of plastic with a garden hose attachment? You'd lay it out on a nice hot summer day and turn the water on and viola! Instant Good Times.
Except I grew up in Brooklyn where soft grass covering the earth was in short supply. So the only time we got to see a Slip 'N Slide was on TV.
It's not like you could roll out the slide on the sidewalk. Imagine the lawsuits. Nope. We had to settle for fire hydrants with sprinkler heads attached. Instant waterpark. Nothing like cold clean water pouring out in the summer heat. Zooming through the spray on your bike at full speed, until the baseball cards lodged in the spokes were soggy.
The local DJ on the stoop blaring out the Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam on the two story boom box that needed a car battery or 48 D Cell batteries to run.
Click. Yo, flip the tape over.
Yeah. Run DMC.
Good times.
Now, I live in a subtropical suburbia. Complete with clear, clorinated swimming pool and those fold up deck chairs that are part slapstick, part bear trap. Dangerous and funny at the same time.
My kids learned to swim years before I did. Moslty because it's impossible to learn the breast stroke in 6 inches of water streaming along the gutters on Prospect Place. They get 5 feet of ceramic tile ensconsed watery goodness.
Still, I think they would have gotten a kick out of the fire hydrants. That is until New York's Bravest drive by and shut off the water, grumbling something about water pressure and the whole city going up in flames on account of us kids getting a little soaking wet.
(Okay, so the hydrant was wide open and we were using a can with both ends cut off to knock each other off our feet...)
My kids will have to read the history books to find out what that was like. They'll have to make do with the community pool.
Who am I kidding? We would have killed for a pool.
In fact, we would willingly ride for miles on bikes to get to Sunset pool in Sunset park and the cute girls in the bikinis and Cherry lip gloss.
Do they still make that stuff? Does it come in other flavors now?
Now those were good times.
I miss the summer vacations.
I miss riding my yellow magged, chromed out sporty dirtbike with the yellow pads and the lightning emblazoned across, trick pegs front and back thank you very much.
It was the equivalent of a pimp'd out caprice with 20" rims.
Circa 1985.
Remeber when? Remember the cool feel of the water under that blazing august sun when the Mets were hot and those poor hapless Yankees were trading Ricky Henderson away?
I remember.
Sure it's the not Mantle and Mays of another generation but Don Mattingly going 8 straight games with yard shots, Dave Winfield and his outrageoulsy long arms smacking frozen rope home runs over the 385ft sign and that guy that was Mariano Rivera before Mariano Rivera saving game after game.
Hey Rags, I still remember you and that left arm and that high kick and saving both games of a double header.
I miss those days.
I wonder what my kids will remember when they are 20 years older? When the bright summer days have faded into work and home and new families and their own kids? What will they hold onto from the coming summer? Will they remember the new and improved bouncy house / slip N slide that was the main attraction at the local birthday party?
I was impressed.
Yes. Yep. Uh huh, I sure did.
Twice.
It's amazing how fast you can hurtle down that thing when you get a good running start.
Will they remember standing on my shoulders and jumping off? I hope so.
I'll remember their laughter and the miles of smiles. It reminded me of my own summers.
I wish I could save these moments for them. They pass too quickly.
Sure, there will be other summers.
But will there still be Slip N Slides?
I hope so.

Got my whiney pants on today..

2007-05-07T09:11:00.000-05:00

Can I tell you what I miss? I miss writing more often. I miss the freedom of words splattered across a page in open defiance to restraint and common courtesy. I miss just gushing out ink-stained irritations and mindless commentary on the little things that drive me nuts.
But I haven't got the time. I am too busy being busy.
When did that happen?
Better yet? Why?
My head hurts from staring at the screen lately. Means I need glasses probably. That's another thing that sort of snuck in there unannounced.
[INCOMING TANGENT]
The Yankees are still sub .500 and we are supposed to be happy about a soon-to-be 45 year old pitcher? This so doesn't bode well for the post season. But its too early to get all Boston on them yet. And by Boston I mean defeatist. You know constantly expecting the worst to happen. Boston.
[END INCOMING TANGENT]
We have been needing rain here in the sunshine state something fierce. We finally got it in the form of a massive line of Thunderstorms yesterday.
[START WHINE]
Great. Softball was basically a wash. Why can't it rain while I am working? That would be great. If I could, I'd hook up the rain in the summer here to one of those automatic sprinkler timing systems...
[END WHINE]
Oh wait. We have that now. The 4 o'clock afternoon shower.
Good times.
Oh well.
I'm rambling. Frustrated and rambling on incoherently.
I have nothing really to complain about. Just feeling a little whiney. You know what? Just ignore the last few paragraphs. I'll come up with something better and post later.

Godzilla vs Super Telekinetic Make-up Girl!

2007-03-28T08:27:00.000-05:00

I just remembered how much Godzilla rocked! It hit me like a bolt of... well... lightning. I just got my new cell phone and let's just say that I am less than enthused with the choice of ring tones. I don't know what dollar store bargain basement bin they dragged these sad little ditties out of but really, some things are better off not discovered.
Like, say Jimmy Hoffa.
Or those last bits of food from Thanksgiving circa 1992, safely ensconced within the patented burp security of your Mom's Tupperware. Why Lord? Why didn't I just toss it?
I suppose in retrospect it would have been a lot cheaper than the whole EPA, CDC and Department of Homeland Security fiasco.
But I digress.
Godzilla, The Mean Green Machine, Destroyer of Tokyo, King of the Monsters, Terror of terrors, The Creature that Ate Raymond Burr!
You get the point.
I loved Godzilla flicks when I was a wee lad, lo these many years ago.
During the Thanksgiving Holiday weekend in New York City they had the monster movie marathons. Thanksgiving day was all King Kong, all the time, with a helping of Mighty Joe Young and Son of Kong thrown in.
Good times to be sure.
But what we waited for was Friday.
The day after, when everyone was still basking the sumptuous afterglow of leftover turkey and gravy, we would plop ourselves in front of the TV for hours watching Godzilla destroy Tokyo again and again and again (and I think he also nipped Nagano, Okinawa and Kyoto, but I need to double check that..)
Godzilla vs The Smog Monster (How do you like that Mister Gore! Godzilla invented Eco mania! He was so ahead of the curve when it comes to global warming.)
Godzilla vs Mecha-Godzilla
Godzilla vs Monster Zero
Godzilla vs Megalon....
I could go on all day. There is something to be said for a guy stuffed into a cheesy green suit and paid to smash toy cars, tanks, planes and buildings.
And the occasional Astronaut. Yes, Godzilla did in fact fight an astronaut. A particularly dashing and rather robust fellow that gave Terror of Tokyo the old what for. Don't believe me? I have proof! (uh... I have proof somewhere. I will fix and get the link up as soon as I do...)
Good times.
Okay. I feel better now that I have waxed nostalgic about Japanese men in rubber suits smashing things. Basically the whole point of the preceding was that I am looking to get either a Godzilla Roar of THX proportions or the theme song from the movies as my ring tone.
Stay tuned.
So what else is going on? Let me tell you...
Wait a second.

THIS IS NOT ANOTHER WOMEN DRIVERS RANT

True it is about a woman and she was, in fact, driving at the time but the same could easily be applied to Circus Clown and the Invisible Man. Really anyone that spends more that 20 minutes putting on makeup before greeting the world.
I will grant you that women, for the most part, are better suited to multi task. I don't know why that is and refuse to speculate on the grounds that I like my appendages where they are (and as I am skirting the line here already with regard to the differences between men and women, I am going to play it safe okay?)
Color me cupcake.
There I was on the Central Florida Greenway, the 417, minding my own business, watching my mirrors, hands precisely located at the ten and two o'clock position, checking my mirrors every five seconds exactly as prescribed by Florida State Law.
Oh yeah. I am all about the driving.
I look at the car in front of me and notice a young lady doing her makeup.
Wow. Certainly no earth shattering event right? I mean everyone does it nowadays. Shaving, tweezing, plucking, pruning, blushing, glossing, brushing and flossing are all now permissible as long as the implements used in their application are Blue Tooth ready.
I drive on, choosing instead to focus on my own sphere of driving responsibility.
Defensive Driving Superstar!
Only exceeding the speed limit when the flow of traffic absolutely leaves me no choice (and whenever there are no State Troopers in view)
I never drive distracted, one hand on the wheel, the other hand flipping though the play list on my iPod Nano looking for that DJ Tiesto track from back in the day and - Hey, I haven't heard Boys II Men and LL in a minute, lets go with that one...
Where was I? Oh yeah, seventy-five in a sixty-five marveling at the feminine ability to telekinetically maneuver through traffic whilst applying a brand new face.
It was like watching a superhero.
Her eyes never left the mirror. Deftly moving from what I can only assume is lip gloss to blush and mascara (that’s the thing that looks like a pipe cleaner they brush the eyelashes with right?) and running the hands – yes I said hands plural – through her hair, teasing it out in that ultra valley girl style.
I spotted the UCF parking sticker.
Who knew that College Co-eds were that talented?
This went on for the better part of twenty minutes. When we exited the highway and stopped at a light she was still going at it. To tell you the truth I don’t even know what was taking her so long. Her face wasn’t really all that big. How much could you fit on the thing?
And so we parted ways, me off to work and she off to fight the good fight against Bad Hair Days or whatever Telekinetic Make-up Superheroes do all day long.
All I want to know is who is the genius that put a mirror on the driver side visor?
Way to go Sparky. Thanks to you insurance rates across the nation have been on the rise ever since.
Signal before changing lanes people.

33 Questions...

2007-03-14T16:10:00.000-05:00

Do you ever get those Questionnaires from (and I use this term loosely) friends and family? It’s bad enough when I get inundated with spam from rogue Bosnian and Ukrainian internet flimflam artists, but when my own flesh and blood does it?
I know it was you Fredo… I know it was you and it breaks my heart.
I just wanna send them fishing with Uncle Vinny, capice?
I get all kinds of stuff and I end up usually snoping them right back. Especially when it’s something about missing kids in Wal-Mart or George Carlin’s latest rant. Amazing pictures that would do Peter Parker proud or incredible tales of the macabre.
Heh. It’s been a long time since I’ve use that one in a sentence. Gimme a second whilst I savor it.
Mmmm. Macabre.
That’s a fun word.
Anyway, I do get one type of email that is less annoying that most if for nothing else than the glimpse into the psyche of friends and family that it provides. The internet questionnaire.
And so, to that end, I have included my answers to the most popular questions for your perusal.

1.WHAT TIME DID YOU GET UP THIS MORNING?
5:04 (yeah... it was dark) For the record, it wasn’t a fluke and I normally get up that early with few exceptions. No, I am not in the Marine Corps and I am not a milkman, paper boy or that guy that used to make the donuts.
I work out. Okay? Happy now?

2. DIAMONDS OR PEARLS?

Pearls... preferably cast before swine... Seriously, if a guy gets a diamond he usually intends to give the blasted thing away as soon as possible. What kind of question is this anyway? You know what? It’s not even a freaking question! This one needs to come off the list and get replaced with something like Strawberry or Grape Jam? or Chicken or the Egg? Or something else along those lines.

3. WHAT WAS THE LAST FILM YOU SAW AT THE CINEMA?
Flushed Away. I have kids. Somehow I think they would miss the historical impact of the battle of Thermopylae so I haven’t taken them to see 300 yet…

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE T.V. SHOW?
Battlestar Galactica / Grey's Anatomy. Gritty camera work, beautiful acting, gripping drama, existential allegory, plot twists and tension galore and something no guy can do without – explosions. Seriously, what’s not to like? And that Battlestar Galactica ain’t too shabby either.

5. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY HAVE FOR BREAKFAST?
Cereal or Oatmeal (whatever the kids have left in their wake). Sometimes I eat candy but I try not to say that out loud too often.

6. FAVORITE CUISINE?
Chinese or Italian or Mexican or Puerto Rican or American or ... well you get the point right? My Dad liked to say that I would eat anything that wouldn’t eat me first.
Oh it’s true.
Seriously.

7. WHAT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME?
John. I know, I can't explain that one either... It has nothing to do with drugs and the end of the sixties or hippies or some obscure Kung Fu Master named Billy Jack. Honest.
You can’t prove it. So there.

8. WHAT FOOD DO YOU DISLIKE?
Shellfish, soup and cheap jelly beans and warm beer. Beer is bad enough as it is but warm? I think our European friends pretend to drink warm beer just to mess with Americans. They wait till we spit it out and cough and then laugh behind our backs.

9. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CD AT THE MOMENT?
Pirates of the Caribbean Soundtrack. I like soundtracks. They go great with all the voices in my head. We can all play and get along that way. And act out ninja movies.
Good times.

10. WHAT KIND OF TRUCK/CARS DO YOU DRIVE?
Minivan. And I totally rock it. I used to have a man type car but that got lost somewhere around the time I stopped pretending I had free will as a married man.

11. FAVORITE SANDWICH ?
Cheesburger. Heavy on the burger. And the cheese. Toast the bun… Heh… I said bun.

12. WHAT CHARACTERISTIC DO YOU DESPISE?
Indecision. wait... laziness... wait... dishonesty… no, wait...stupidity… no wait… indecision... I think...

13. FAVORITE ITEM OF CLOTHING?
Jeans. Yeah. The list pretty much stops there. Moving on…

14. IF YOU COULD GO ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD ON VACATION, WHERE WOULD IT
BE?
Fiji. Yankee Stadium in late October....

15. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHROOM?
It has colors? Beige-ish ... I think. I don't really pay attention what with all the towel and steam and whatnot. I think it’s beige. Okay. Beige. Final answer…

16. WHERE WOULD YOU RETIRE?
On a beach somewhere. Must have a hammock. See Question # 14.

17. WHAT WAS YOUR MOST RECENT MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY?
35. It was the most recent one. Does that mean I am middle aged now? I know I definitely crossed some sort of threshold there on that last one but I get the feeling its like that guy that doesn’t realize that the evil mutant ape creature has somehow gotten out of its cage and is sneaking up behind him and about to peel him like a banana…

18. FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH?
Baseball. Oh, and Curling. Yeah. Curling is AWESOME!

19. FURTHEST PLACE YOU ARE SENDING THIS?
Somewhere in that general direction... ->

20. WHO DO YOU LEAST EXPECT TO SEND THIS BACK TO
YOU?
Someone who's really busy or with spotty internet service... Or the evil mutant ape creature.

21. PERSON YOU EXPECT TO SEND IT FIRST?
Someone without anything better to do...

22. COKE OR PEPSI?
Neither. Water. Shaken, not stirred.

23. WHEN IS YOUR BIRTHDAY?
November 11th. Best. Day. Ever.

24. ARE YOU A MORNING OR NIGHT PERSON?
Either. Any day spent above ground is a good one...

25. PETS?
1 Dog, 3 kids, 3 brothers and a lizard squatting in my office, various bugs...

26. ANY NEW OR EXCITING NEWS YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE WITH US?
Uh, I can still walk and chew at the same time. Does that count? If not, it should.

28. WHAT DID YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU WERE LITTLE?
An Astronaut or Don Mattingly circa 1985. Or Indiana Jones or Han Solo…

29. HOW ARE YOU TODAY?
Groovy. Not Austin Powers groovy... Evil Dead Ash, locked in a remote cabin with a rift torn in the very fabric of the universe with all of hell pouring through and nothing but a chainsaw for a hand as your only weapon kind of groovy...
Sweet.

30. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CANDY?
Candy. All of the above. Yeah. Pretty much all candy. Anything covered, smothered, lathered, bathed, swaddled, cuddles and or snuggled in chocolate. Sour is better though.

31. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?
The ones that haven't been picked yet. Another one on the list of dumb things to ask a guy. Apparently women write these things. Ask me who the greates Kung Fu expert of all time is (and for the record there is only one correct answer to that question: Bruce Freakin Lee man, Bruce Freakin Lee...)

32. WHAT DAY ON THE CALENDAR ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD
Christmas...or is it too soon for that?

33. SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT
THIS TO YOU.
They sent me this really introspective survey that has forced me to really dig deep within my self and learn something about me that I never even knew before…
Or maybe its that they gave me a decent idea for my blog.

Billy Con Carne

2007-01-18T15:03:00.002-05:00

Hello, my name is Billy and I wore a speedo.
Wait. Is that really how I want to start this one? With a speedo?
Eh, why not? Hopefully you have had breakfast already and the speedo images that are sure to rifle through your mental checklist session won't be completely disturbing. Thats right y'all! I had me a speedo and I did, in fact,
once upon a time, lo these many years ago, actually wear it in public. In high school to be exact. Of course, at the time, I actually had a body that was able to pull off the look. Not buff mind you, but not my current physical state.
I rocked the speedo and I am not ashamed to admit it.
No, really, I'm not. If I had a picture of me back then, ensconced in said speedo, I would post it. Oh yeah, you heard me right! I would. But, alas, the proof of my courage under polyester has been lost to the sands of time or something like that (that's my story and I'm sticking to it...). But that's not what this post was about.
Well, at least, not directly. Some of you that have been following along the last year or so know that I have been working out. Exercising. Warring against evil incarnate. That's right, I'm talking about man boobs and the dun lop. What's the dun lop? That's when you belly dun loped over your belt.
(Hey, I didn't make the joke, I'm only repeating so put that rotten tomato down...)
And part of this inexorable march towards the ultimate victory (that being what I have termed the Aqua man body - more on that later)has been fueled by outright victory on the plains of McDonald's, where the once mighty Big Mac now lies ruined, covered in its own special sauce. And also on the oceans of soda, where the sunken, rusted hulks of Coca-Cola cans lie crushed beneath gallons and gallons of fresh water. Put that in your slurpee and drink it!
I have also started to cook more and more. Most of it is pretty edible. Especially chili. Which brings me to the whole point of this exercise.
Chili con Carne.

Heres what you need:

2 lbs of ground beef (85-15% lean-fat ration is pretty good)
1 green pepper - diced
1 red pepper - diced
1 Vidalia onion (the purple one) - diced
1 yellow or white onion (small) - diced
2 cans of beans (Red, kidney, black or chili) - not diced
2 cans of tomato sauce - if it's diced you're already in trouble
2 cans of Rotel chili and tomatoes (mild or hot, up to you)
1 tbsp Fresh Cilantro, chopped
1 tbsp Dried Oregano (Yeah. oregano... not the stuff you try and pass off as oregano)
1 tbsp Garlic powder (no, Garlic salt doesn't count)
1 tbsp Ground Black pepper
1 tbsp Cayenne pepper
1 tbsp Crushed red pepper
2 tbsp Chili powder
1 tsp Cumin powder
1/2 tsp Salt
3 cups Water

In case you haven't noticed, it's pretty spicy so feel free to adjust the condiments to your level of wussyness, okay sunshine? Basically you are going to brown the ground beef in a large sauce pan or whatever you normally use for soups. A note for all the single guys that might read this:

When I say soup, I am not referring Ramen, Campell's, Cup O' Noodles, etc... I mean, actualy homemade soup. No, you can't microwave this dish into existence. It requires ACTUAL cooking so you might want to turnthe X Box off for a little while there, Sparky.
One other thing, a used hungry man tray is not cookware, neither is the aluminum tray you get from the local Chinese restaurant.

Okay, moving on.
Whilst browning the bovine, over medium to medium high heat, its a good idea to add the salt, ground black pepper, garlic and oregano. Helps the flavoryness meet the meatyness and get all nice and romance novel on you.
Good times.
Okay, once the meat is nice and cooked, you are going to want to drain it. Fight the urge. This you must not do if you used lean meat. In fact, unless you bought the 80%-20% (meat to fat ratio) you should just skip the whole draining the fat thing since there isn't all that much fat left in the pot. Add the green and red peppers, both onions and the cilantro to the meat. Stir that up for a couple of minutes and savor the flavor.
Smells good don't it?
Okay, once the flavors are one a first name basis and in that honeymoon afterglow, you can go ahead and introduce the kids. Toss in the beans and chili and tomato and the water and whatever is left from the menu list I have neglected to mention.
Got all that? Good.
Lower the heat so that it simmers covered for about 20 minutes or so. You want to reduce it a little. Simmer uncovered for another ten minutes and serve with either
white rice or corn chips or tortillas.
It also plays nice with sour cream and sharp cheddar cheese.
Enjoy.
At no time should you be wearing a speedo while cooking or eating this dish. Other have tried and failed, much to their chagrin and the outright glee of plastic reconstruction surgeons.
You have been warned.

Commute My Sentence

2007-01-10T14:31:00.000-05:00

Is there anything of which one can say,
"Look! This is something new"?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
- Ecclesiastes 1:10 (NIV)

I am loving the morning drives. The traffic, the drama, the comedy. I'm convinced morning commutes could become the next great reality show. Not that I'm advocating that. No. Reality TV is the world's latest, greatest oxymoron. First of all, it's not real, okay? Let's just set the record straight. I won't go as far as to call it Wrestling fake
(that's a whole other blog topic in and of it's self...) but it's what industry insiders like to call unscripted.

un·script·ed Pronunciation[uhn-skrip-tid]
–adjective
1. not scripted; lacking a script: an unscripted idea for a movie.
2. Informal. that has not been planned for or anticipated: an unscripted interruption of the speech.
[Origin: 1940–45; un-1 + script + -ed2]
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)
Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

And it's not really TV is it? It's more like digital voyeurism. We get to watch things that, to be perfectly honest, is the exact same sort of thing we go through in our own lives and find incredibly boring. But if the same thing was happening to someone and there is a camera crew involved, it's suddenly television?
Wow.
There really is nothing new under the sun. (See the above scripture...)
Either way, unscripted, fake, the figment of an editor's mind, whatever, I think you get the gist of my reality based sentiments. Filming driving would be better TV than watching past their prime B-List movie stars train to be real cops, lose weight, become frat buddies, selecting you future wife or husband from 30 perfect strangers or stuffing diametrically opposed people – geeks, freaks, atheists and the Amish, they are all fair game, right? - into the same room (why not add gasoline and matches?) and turning the cameras on.
That’s all yesterday’s drama.
Now you get the edge of your seat drama right on the way to work watching a woman in a giant yellow Hummer putting her eye shadow on at seventy miles an hour in heavy traffic.
Of course she can get away with it.
Its a hummer for crying out loud, who’s going to stop her? Besides, hitting a mini cooper at seventy miles an hour would be like running over an empty can of Mountain Dew.
Bug meets windshield.
Oh yeah. I'm smiling just thinking about it.
I really miss Chips...
If we could just get a station wagon to cut her off while simultaneously signaling right and changing lanes left, you'd get one of those spectacular ChIP's-esque car crash scenes were like a Winnebago goes somersaulting through the California sky.
Except I have no Winnebago and I don't live in California.
You could even have a scene were some local law enforcement officer snarls morning traffic simply by being there. Don't get me wrong; personally, I have great affinity for members of law enforcement. They risk their lives every single day by putting it on the line. And in doing so, they also cause massive commuter headaches simply by doing any one of the following:

Getting on the freeway. As soon as other drivers see Smokey Bear, brake lights go on like telephone switchboard lines during the last five minutes of the season finale of American Idol.

Sitting in the median. Sure they need a break too, but isn't that what donut shops are for? (Okay. Maybe the donut joke is passé but there are smoothie joints and McBurger places they can go and take five at. Why the median? Why rush hour? Why are they parked next to each other in opposite directions? At the very least it’s unseemly. )

Pulling a U-Turn across two lanes of traffic. Did Officer Poncherello get lost? (Don't let me get started on Chips...) Did Car 54 figure out where they were? If we can't pull a Uey, why do they? Badge and a gun, man, that’s all there is to it.

Still, they make things interesting. I haven’t even gotten to how brave people get behind the wheel, screaming obscenities that you wouldn’t say to Hitler if he was in the same room you.
Well, you still might go off Adolph and I probably would too but you certainly wouldn’t kiss your Mom with that mouth would you?
I’ve been there, done that. Frustration and anger were my constant companions on the way to work.
Now, I am slightly mellower.
(Mellow... Mello... Mellower... Is that even a word?)
Okay. I’m trying to be mellower. And sometimes, I actually am.
A little prayer goes a long way. Driving to work is becoming less and less a prison sentence and more of an opportunity to find time alone to reflect on what God’s doing in my life or just enjoy the silence.
( I keep the windows up…)
And I occasionally smile at the driver yakking on the phone, drinking his latte, and straddling the lanes.
A State Trooper just snuck in behind him.
It’s great television I tell you.

The Morning Traffic Report

2007-01-04T11:44:00.000-05:00

"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?"
- Matthew 6: 26,27 (NIV)

Even after I wrote that long schpiel yesterday morning about how much I am going to trust God and what a difference Jesus is making in my life, it takes all of fifteen minutes to get hammered again. This is a never ending experience. You live and learn, as the saying goes. I left the house just barely holding on, really wanting to feel God move in my life.
Like right now, God.
Hello? Are you even listening?
I am standing here, foot tapping incessantly, glaring at my watch wondering where in the world are my miracles.
Nice. Perfect. What a great example you are to your kids.
"See how Daddy is so patient?"
I want to kick my own butt sometimes. Let me relate what happened to me after I finished my morning blog. I spent some time on my face this morning, just laying out my fears on God. We are broke. I took a 15k pay cut (not including bonuses) and that basically translates to a $600 shortage in income every single month. To top things off, I am driving 80 miles a day round trip with another $7 tacked on in tolls. Lots going on.
Scared yet?
Yeah. Me too. You know I am just digging all of this. Can't you just see the happy-go-lucky, Kum Ba Ya grin on my face?
Have I mentioned the month or so that I was out of work? So, in addition to the financial shortfall, we are behind in everything - car, mortgage, bills, food, etc.
I think our cell phones are going to get cut in the next day or so. Which wouldn't be such a bad thing, except that it's the only phones we have.
We are completely dependent on God at this point to make ends meet.
The kids have been put on the school bus to come home which I am considering a personal failure as father right about now. I have never left the care of my kids to anyone I didn't trust and here I am trusting the three most important people in my life to a stranger. My youngest daughter nearly had a fit when we said they were going to take the bus to school too. She started to cry. I felt like crap on a stick.
I have literally cried my way to work the last week or so dealing with all this.
Some tough guy right?
So this morning, aggravated, stuck in about ten miles of traffic, about ready to start screaming at God - "MIRACLES, MIRACLES, I NEED MIRACLES!", I pull up to the toll both with the last 75 cents I have in my pocket already dreading the drive home without the toll money to make it go faster. The smell of exhaust fumes wash over me as I lower the window.
"The guy in the car in front of you said have a Blessed day"
"Excuse me?"
"The car in front of you paid your toll."
What? Seriously? Someone else paid my toll?
That, of course, wouldn't be the first time someone paid for something for which I was responsible would it?
I thought of the cross, of redemption.
Jesus.
They say a dollar doesn't go far these days. They, who ever they are, are probably right. But I think that 75 cents can buy a moment of clarity on an expressway when you least expect it.
I drove away, tears streaming down my face.
I don't know if that guy in the pink shirt in the white sedan knows how much that gesture meant to me but I prayed that God would bless him a thousand fold for that simple act of kindness.
Wow. God will provide.
Always.

How Now Brown Cow?

2007-01-04T07:29:00.000-05:00

The LORD will guide you always;
he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.
- Isaiah 58:11

In case you missed it in my last blog post, I am now working. I am working at a Christian company doing my web thing.
Awesome. Great. Fantastico!
But can I be honest?
I’m terrified, sick to my stomach with worry. I don’t want to be that way, I just am. See, I believe that God led me to this company and I am, by divine intervention, at the place I am supposed to be.
But to do that I took a pay cut.
A big one.
How much?
I’m afraid to tell you. You might think me mad. I know I have had similar thoughts. I have to be crazy, one fry short of a happy meal, elevator don’t go to the top no mo’. The world will tell you that money is everything, that having material possessions is the key to happiness.
It’s not.
You can have money and be perfectly miserable. You can have material possessions and still feel empty inside. I know. I have been down that road. I cry out to God on a daily basis to meet my needs because I am staring at the edge of the abyss. On one side I see nothing but financial disaster. If there is no such thing as the Devil then who is filling my mind with images of poverty and hunger and disaster?
Right, I have a very creative imagination, I freely admit that. But there is a spiritual dimension to this world that exists.
So I know he’s there and I know that the fear and trepidation I feel are being fed from him.
Whoa, hold on there Cowboy… Devil? Seriously?
Yeah, Devil, I said it.
See, old pointy ears knows what I am afraid of and he has stepped up his game of late, pressing his advantage, such that it is. Sure he reminds me of all the things I’ve done in my life (and it takes him a long time to go through it all, let me tell you…) but I have accepted my past and the forgiveness that comes with salvation.
Yes. Salvation. You heard me right.
Don’t go yet. I know, you think you can hear a sermon coming right? No sermon. This is just a me story. I’m sharing.
Only one bible verse, honest. There might be an alter call but seeing as I have no alter to come to and this is on the web, we’ll go with the honor system for now.
So I am saved (according to the bible) and that means I don’t need to worry about my past deeds. Good, ‘cuz rehashing the mistakes I’ve made could take a while. But I am saved, redeemed and happy about it.
But I still have life to live, bills to pay and all that. How does this all equate? Okay, because I believe doesn’t mean that my life suddenly has become church hymns and sermons, healthy doses of Kum Ba Ya.
Nope. I still got the same old hang ups, fears, concerns and pitfalls. The difference now is that I am aware of a God that doesn’t want me to go through the rough times alone. He never said it wouldn’t rain, just that he’s the shelter in the storm.
Footprints in the sand.
Ever read that? (For those of you that said no, click here )
So I am still concerned about my finances and what I am doing with my life at the moment but I believe that its part of the plan God has for my life. Jesus promised peace of mind if you have faith (see John 14:27).
That’s the next step for me, hanging on, having faith. Believing in something bigger than my own corner of existence and seeing what God does with my faith.
I’ll be back to let you know how God moved to help me cover my bills (which at last count was close to 2k in arrears). Maybe all of this is happening so that you would see a practical example of how Jesus provides for his own.
I don’t know how my needs will be met, only that they will be.
Trust me, you’ll be impressed. I know I always am.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-24T14:16:00.000-05:00

End of the road (part II)

2006-12-14T21:48:00.000-05:00

"To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven."
Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NKJV)

Okay. Where were we?
I was at my brother’s house setting up an appointment for a Friday interview with Strang Communications. It’s in Lake Mary. For those of you outside of the Orlando general area, it’s far.
How far? Like Driving to Jersey from Long Island far. Like Oakland to San Jose far.
Perhaps a slight exaggeration, I don’t know. I’ll have to get back to you on that one. Suffice it to say Wifey was concerned. The distance, the tolls, the other financial considerations, etcetera, etcetera.
She said as soon as I hung up that I was going to get hired and that the job was mine.
Not that she was happy about it mind you. She was not happy about a lot of things but mostly that God seemed to need us to take this whole sacrificing thing a little further than we initially wanted to.
I was looking forward to getting something close to home making the same money or better than I was before and letting life get back to some semblance of normality.
Nope. Someone has another plan.
Figures.
So I get up and go Friday morning, making pretty good time all things considered (just under 40 minutes!). My commute wouldn’t even make top ten most aggravating drives nationally.
Forty measly minutes? Bah!
But when you’re down to one working car, it puts a strain on you mentally.
The interview goes amazingly well, all the time I am thinking that God definitely has plans for me working there and, wouldn’t you just know it, the folks there are thinking the same thing. In fact, and I am absolutely positive that you have most likely NEVER heard this in a job interview:
“We were praying about you yesterday.”
My brother in law, to whom I related the details of the interview and is not a practicing Christian, though he may make an appearance or two at mass on the days when you are required to (Christmas, Easter, etcetera), was impressed.
Apparently it was a new concept for him too.
Praying for little ol’moi?
Okay, I know that this is crossing over into Billy Graham territory, but come on! When was the last time someone told you they were praying for you the very first time they met you?
Huh? Huh!?! I didn’t think so.
So you can see why I think this is more than just some odd set of circumstances. There is a higher power at work here.
They told me they had one more interview for the day but that they liked my resume and attitude and they have a good feeling about me. They think that maybe God wants me there.
I love to hear that sort of stuff, don’t you?
Not in a narcissistic way, I mean in a man-I-really-needed-to-hear-that-right-now kind of way.
It’s been a long month what with the whole getting fired and no money for food, bills or Christmas and all that, right?
So the waiting game begins and the weekend starts along with it. We end up at my brother-in-laws place on Saturday morning for a Christmas parade after which we retire to his home with the children, play a little BF 2142 and grill a few burgers. It was a nice afternoon. Pleasant, sunny and none of the kids lost an eye (unless you call slamming into a PAC Walker at 240 knots while defending the EU Titan at the Sidan Power Plant a bad thing).
Definitely a win-win for all involved.
Sunday morning rolls around and we mosey on over to church to meet my brother and his Wifey. Good times. The pastor was talking about Christmas prophecies and the like, quoting some of the more infamous predictions of the twenties century. He gets to one that involves Debbie Fields of Mrs. Fields Cookies fame. It was something about an executive telling her that no one is going to want soft baked chocolate chip cookies.
And that’s when he starts tossing his cookies into the congregation. Unfortunately I was sitting too far back to benefit from the soft baked deluge.
They looked good from where I was sitting though.
My brother thought it was great. He’s been struggling a lot lately and I was glad to see him laughing, even if it was in church and possibly inappropriate.
Then again, the Pastor was tossing cookies, so who am I to judge right?
He who is without sin, cast the first Toll House.
We had breakfast after the service and the girls (the Wifeys) went home with the kids while my brother and I decided to visit my Dad’s church.
Before you go and say something, I am not trying to accrue Holier-Than-Thou points or anything, I was just going to support my brother. Besides, I wanted to see my father too.
Let’s just say that the second sermon had a whole lot more than flying chocolate chip cookies going on. The preacher for the day was a guest speaker. Joe Deveraux I think his name was. He was good, got the congregation all motivated and hollering.
“Preach it!”
“Uh huh, you tell ‘em Pastor!”
You could feel something brewing in the air. He talked about the spirit of God being able to break chains, set you free and he had us all believing.
I was even joining the rest of the folks with an amen here and there. I normally like to sit tight during the a church service. I'm not likely to run up and down the aisles.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
My brother was like a pot of soup left on the high heat too long, ready to boil over and right when the holy ghost showed up towards the end…
(and for the record, yes, the holy ghost showed up)
... he bolted upright out of his chair, bawling uncontrollably, calling out to Jesus.
Screaming really.
His hands were raised to high heaven at it was as though someone took a massive weight off of him. I was nervous for a second. I'd never seen him like this and I placed my hand on the small of his back to steady him. He was rocking on his heels, weeping uncontrollably. I felt his strength leave him and caught him as he collapsed.
I held him as he sobbed, tears flowing for the both of us as I asked God to give him peace.
I know what he has been through recently and I can completely understand the need for divine intervention.
Have you ever met the Holy Ghost? The Holy Spirit?
Words alone can’t really describe what its like to be in the presence of something so seemingly abstract and yet so tangibly real.
You can’t see it. You can't hear it.
Oh but you can feel it, you can be moved by it.
You feel it in the way you try to remain detached and logical and so very contemporary as your brother stands up in the middle of a crowded church and cries out for God to save him and you feel something pouring off of his being like a cool breeze.
Like that fog in the Ten Commandments.
It wraps around you and you feel something you’ve never felt before and then next thing you know you are crying. Joy, pain, fear, hope, they come spilling out of you as you absorb the fact that the other hundred or so people in the room are being moved in the same way.
Mass hysteria?
Sure, I could see where you might get that idea, but that just tells me that you have never been there, that you have never wanted to believe in something bigger than yourself. How can you want it and not get it? It seemed so effortless to experience it.
All you had to do was want it.
After the service, my brother and I were standing near the pulpit talking to my Dad when the church’s pastor walks up and embraces my brother. He starts to pray for him and before you can say Benny Hinn, he’s laid his hands on him and PLOP!
He falls over in tears and prayer, speaking in tongues.
Yeah. Just like on TV.
And I am like, wow. I’m not sure what just happened but I am wondering what it feels like to get knocked over like that by something you can’t see. Too bad that can't happen to me.
The pastor walks up to me and extends his hand and I take it, thinking he just wants to say hi.
Wrong.
He puts his other hand on my chest and says in a soft voice, “Your dry season is over. Bring forth creativity.”
And then I feel it. The room fading away, an explosion of something inside me breaking loose and as I fall over I realize that nothing really knocks you over. There is no invisible hand that smacks you square on the jaw, buckling your knees like a prize fighter.
It’s a soft kiss, a whisper of love, it’s a still, small voice asking if you have faith.
Asking if you believe.
Asking you to surrender.
“Let me love you”
And I did.
I was on my back, sobbing with something akin to relief. Relief that it was real, that the folks on the TV were not faking, they were simply believers. They were clinging to the presence of the Creator of the Universe.
How often do you get to do that?
I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted to stay there and let God love me.
I sat up after a moment, wiping the tears from my eyes and I knew that what the pastor told me before I was laid out was the truth.
Have you ever just known something, known it down to the very core of your being?
The dry season is over.
The rest of the day was basically afterglow. Trying to remember the feeling of the moment, remember the sounds of the room as people worshiped and were blessed by something supernatural.
In the early afternoon the following day, Monday, I received a call.
I got the job.
They prayed some more and felt like God wanted me there.
I’m not some superhero. There is really nothing all that special about me. I am an average Joe for the most part. A nice guy to be sure but I am also a broken, willfully disobedient and often times sinful man too.
And he wants me there.
Who am I to say no?
I am really beginning to like this journey. I can’t wait to see what’s next. I’m suddenly part of some grand master scheme and even though my part may be small, he makes me feel like it’s the most important part of all.
Here comes the rain, son, the dry season is over.

The End of the road (part I)

2006-12-11T21:21:00.000-05:00

"Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others"
- Philippians 2:4 (NIV)

Okay, so I had a really interesting week. I met with some incredible people on during the week (and especially Friday), had a barbecue Saturday and got smacked upside the head with the Holy Ghost on Sunday.
That’s a lot to take in one sitting huh?
Yeah. Sure is. Let me start at the beginning…
We, the Wifey and I, were out in force last week, checking out the government job services places and stuff. They have this really impressive operation going at One Stop Career Center. Think Wal-Mart for the unemployed.
Well, maybe Super Wal-Mart.
Friendly, courteous staff, eager to help you out and get your resume all filed away nicely and stuff. They really had the processing down to a science. Ushered from one spot to another, you were registered and searching the job database pretty quickly. They have all sorts of resources, computers, copy machines, seminars, et cetera. I got a phone call during the seminar but since I was smart enough to put the blasted thing on vibe I was able to avoid the tsk-tsk-dirty-look-fest that was sure to have followed. It was a nice seminar, even had a well produced orientation video and everything.
You have to love orientations. Especially how they leave you feeling anything but.
We left when it was over. I knew I sort of struck out at the Quicky Job place. There was nothing really in my field but at least I felt like I was doing something, making an effort and they were so helpful it was hard to feel bad.
You know what I mean? I was starting to resent the fact that I was stuck at home, jobless, waiting for my eBay auctions to sell for billions. That’s right, I said BILLIONS (insert pinky into edge of smirk, laugh maniacally).
Nothing doing on that end, although I have to admit, its starting to pick up a little. It’s kind of like fishing, except there are no worms.
And no beer. I think they would have frowned upon adult beverages at the Job center.
And the Dramamine. Who gets sea sick at a Job center?
So we leave the Quickie-Job place and grabbed a burger. Okay, we splurged.
We each had our own individual burger!
Scandalous!
I know, I know, I feel so guilty too. Here we are broke like the Liberty Bell, noshing on Sonic Burgers.
They were so good though. You should try it when you get a chance. Assuming, of course, that you eat meat. I remembered that call I received during the orientation seminar and felt it was time to return it.
It was from one Elias Solomon.
Who? That's exactly what I was thinking. I had no idea who he was.
Metro Orlando Urban League.
Oh, that sounded more familiar.
Let me explain. No, there is too much, let me sum up:
Spoke to Mom last week and she was concerned that we didn’t have the mortgage money (we still don’t) and said that the Metro Orlando Urban League might be able to help.
With me so far? Good.
So, wham, bam, alakazam I am set up to come in the following morning for, yep, you guessed it, more orientation. MOUL, as they like to refer to themselves, is in the same line of work as the Quickie Job Mart folks over at One Stop; basically helping those that need to find work, though the lovely people at MOUL also help those with housing needs.
Salt of the earth, man, real salt of the earth, everything you hoped they would be. There is something to be said for Faith Based Initiatives. In both places I got the sense that they were really trying to help. I grew up poor. Welfare offices and public assistance offices are places with which I am all too familiar. They can be cold and callous there. I’m sure that years of doling out food stamps to the numbed faces of societies forgotten masses can wear on a person.
But at One Stop and MOUL there was still that sense of hope.
We sat through the orientation session led by one Elias Solomon, a jovial, effervescent individual if I ever met one. He entertained and enlightened the ten or so people in his little conference room, doling out helpful advice on being of sound mind and body as you searched for employment.
I sat there during the morning, wondering what I was really doing there . It was all rudimentary stuff, Job Search 101. I know how to fill out an application and how to make up a resume for the most part. But I got the sense that the orientation was only a preamble to my being there.
I got this weird sense of anticipation. It's really hard to explain.
I asked God, “What gives? Why am I here?”
I had this thought just pop into my head. You know, just like a funny thought does when you are desperately trying not to laugh (it always happened whenever my Dad was yelling at me).
“You’re here to meet someone.”
Oh? And here I thought I was looking for work.
“To meet someone” The thought would not leave me. We sat around waiting for our (yeah, Wifey was with me yet again) turn to speak to the staff about assistance and the thought popped in, burping up through my consciousness like spicy food the day after.
It was finally our turn and it was no surprise that there weren't a lot of leads for my line of work. Customer Service? Check. Entry level? Tons, veritable ream upon reams of job openings.
Web Developers? Nada.
“Oh wait”, she said as she stood and walked out of the room rather abruptly.
She returned with someone that looked around my age, wearing a confident, friendly smile. Not used car salesman smile, like a person that you know you could be friends with for life.
Okay. So I was there to meet this one individual. He sat in the small office with us and read over a copy of my resume that the social worker handed him.
“I have a job for you.”
Not a maybe, not a question, no doubt in the sentence at all. It was a definitive statement.
I know a few people that talk like that. Nearly all of them carry Bibles.
I knew that God had led me there for the sole purpose of meeting this guy, Anthony Mitchell, Full Sail graduate and gospel singer.
A man of God, as the saying goes.
You just feel it in your bones, you know it like you know that ice cream gives you brain freeze if you eat it to fast and that you are going to step in that hot sticky gum bubbling in the summer heat on the sidewalk despite your best attempts to avoid it.
I mean that in the good way.
Sometimes things happen in life and they seem terrible or confusing at the time but there is a purpose to it, a reason for the season. You can realize that things align according to a purpose and try to get with the program or you can avoid it, get mad and get lost in transition from bad luck to divine intervention.
I wanted the divine intervention personally.
Okay. Long story short, his wife needs a website. She is planning on launching a faith based diversity magazine online and he thinks I have what they need.
All this from my resume? Wow. Even I am impressed. I had no idea that my writing skills had advanced to Jedi-like proportions. I glanced down at my resume to see what he does because lets face it, at this point my self confidence has fled the scene to avoid prosecution.
God. I knew it. There goes that snap, crackle, pop, in the head again (apparently He’s serving Rice Crispies in the brain).
“He sees what I see.” There is that though popping in again.
Anthony casually mentions that his wife knows someone looking for a web person and he takes my resume to make some copies. After a few minutes of conversation, we part company and she offers to contact us if she hears anything. Anthony asks me to call him later that evening.
As we are driving away I tell the wife that I think the whole reason for us going there was to meet that one guy. She agrees.
That makes it official.
The next day we drop off the application for free lunches at the district school offices and decide to visit my brother and his wifey. Apparently God was serving the one liners to the wife too since it was her suggestion. She said she felt like we should go.
We are there for a bit talking over things, I'm inviting my brother to come to Church on sunday seeing as how he could use a bit of positivity in his life when I get a call from a company called Strang (like strange without the e) Publications.
Apparently they print all sort of books and magazines - all sorts of Christian magazines and books.
Interesting, I think.
“We have a job we would like you to come interview for.”
Very interesting, I think.
Have I mentioned that the last three jobs I have had I never had to apply for?
Yeah. That’s right. You know what I am going to say even before I say it.
Okay, one time I can maybe say that it was luck; but three consecutive times?
I’m good, but not that good.
It was, as my could-be-blonde-valley-girl cousin Lisa would say, totally God.
And she says it like “ OH MY GAWD TOTALLY GOD!”
Strange but true.
God provided the jobs for me. I wasn't even going to church last year at this time. I was avoiding God like broke people avoid collection agencies. But his fingerprints were there, all over the things in my life.
This is getting a little long in the tooth for one blog so I will continue this tomorrow. Don’t worry, I will get to the Good Friday, the Saturday BBQing and the smacked upside the head by the Holy Ghost and I will even explain why Pastor David was throwing soft baked chocolate chip cookies at the congregation on Sunday.
No, seriously, he was throwing cookies during the sermon.
Hasta manana…

A whole lotta nothing...

2006-12-08T18:03:00.000-05:00

Consider it all joy... when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
-James 1:2-4 (NASB)

I have been pretty busy the last week, sending out resumes, emails, making calls and the like. You know, the standard operating procedure for the unemployed. I won’t say that the week has been without its disappointments but they are more of the “God, you’re not answering my prayer fast enough” variety as opposed to actual disappointments.
Patience can be such a pain when its something that you need as opposed to something you expect from someone else.
It wasn’t all quiet. I did get a response from one person (or governmental entity to be more precise). I was approved for unemployment compensation so I got that going for me. Of course, they have yet to send me anything but I’m hopeful it will get here eventually.
Soon.
Like right now.
No, seriously, like now God!
The wife and I have been discussing what our options are at this point. We have discussed selling the house and moving somewhere less expensive. Like, say Arkansas.
Can’t you just smell the fresh air?
No? Me either.
Still, it’s on the table. I won’t rule anything out at this point. Running away and joining the circus is one particularly attractive option. So is falling on a hand grenade.
Neither one is particularly feasible. We have had some family members ask why I’m not working at Home Depot or Burger King or something yet.
Beggars can’t be choosers, you know.
I’m not insulted that they have suggested those jobs. I worked for Burger King once before and I can tell you with absolute certainty that I can’t go back.
Not because I feel a job like that is beneath me.
I gained 30 lbs in six months when I worked there.
I just lost those 30 lbs over the last year or so. I’m not in a hurry to get them back anytime soon.
The fact of the matter is that if I take a job that pays less than a certain amount, I’d lose my house anyway. There is a floor that I need to stay above in order to stay where I am.
What, me worried?
Yeah, a little. I’m human right?
Over the last week I have struggled to stay positive in the complete absence of action.
What does that mean?
Well, I like to see things getting done. Especially when they are things I need. I need a job so I like to see me sending out the dusted off resume and getting call back faster than I can mail them out.
It irks me when the phone doesn’t ring.
Hello? Didn’t I pray last night God? What are you doing anyway?
See, me and the Almighty are not working in the same time frame. I have my schedule and he has his.
Guess who wins out?
Yeah, and still no calls.
I think that this is one of those great lessons in patience my Dad was always telling me about. “You need to pray that God give you some patience, boy.”
Great advice.
Except that in order to have more patience you need to basically wait longer right?
I wish I realized that before I started to pray for patience. I have since learned my lesson and started to pray for two things and two things only.
Trust and acceptance.
Now acceptance is the thing I need to allow God time to work. (Notice how that sounds a lot like asking for patience without asking for patience?) Okay. I got the whole acceptance thing down pat. What else am I going to do? Complain? Whine?
Been there, done that, got the tee shirt.
Now trust is something I need too.
I need more trust like Pac-Mac needs the power pellets. I got Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde on my tail and I need to chase them back to where they came from. I’d settle for a Cherry or a Banana or one of those cool holes in the map that leads to the other side.
Wakka, wakka, wakka…

Saturday night's all right....

2006-11-28T08:01:00.000-05:00

“And he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
2 Corinthians 12:9

Do you have those thanksgiving horror stories? Did you have a drunken relative causing a scene at the main family gathering? I thought about that on Thanksgiving during the day. They were giving a movie with like the worst Thanksgiving family moments ever.
It was depressing really.
I asked the Wife why she was watching it.
I even suggested that it wasn’t the right thing to watch for the occasion. You know, mindset, frame of mind, that sort of thing. I could feel my mindset shift, becoming more and more susceptible to a gloomy mindset. I saw in that movie the grim visage of Christmas coming. Those things were weighing heavily on me all week coming up to the holiday. As our bank account dwindled and the phone continued to remain silent, no hits on job inquiries, I started to feel the edges of despair creep up on me, like nightfall in winter. I think I was fourteen when I first noticed that it got dark a lot earlier in the winter.
It just hit, BAM, like a snowball in the face.
It was four in the afternoon and we were banging the basketball of the milk crate nailed to the brick wall of the cleaners we used as our basketball court when it dawned on me that it was dark, gloomy, cold.
Winter had snuck up on me.
That’s how I felt as night descended on Thursday.
I didn’t want to go to my Mother in law’s house. It was her turn to host. We did it last year. Did I ever tell you about Virgil our turkey last year? He was awesome. Anyway, I was finding excuses to delay our arrival. I think that the Wife understood, worse still, she was feeling what I was I think.
I went, she went, we all went as a family.
To be more precise, I was there in physical form but I was miles away mentally. I was lost on that edge again, caught looking over the precipice trying to see into that darkness beyond and figure out what Christmas was going to look like.
Will we be moving out of our house?
Would I be working?
So many unknowns and here I am supposedly the answer man. Billy knows, ask Billy.
Well I will tell you a secret that I have been dying to tell for years.
I don’t know anything about anything.
I just don’t know.
I don’t know half of what people expect me to know, and I am even less sure of the things I thought I once knew implicitly.
Confidence?
Whatever grains of confidence I had squirreled away have gone. Crushed under the weight of false expectations and that murky, foggy foundation I set up for myself. I deluded myself into believing that I could skate through the rest of my life leaving nothing in my wake.
What did it matter? I wasn’t happy where I was working, doing the work I was being paid to do, working with the people I was paid to work with (which in my defense, turned out to be wholly accurate since they jumped at the first opportunity they had to dump both me and my salary).
I was empty at work, empty at home too for that matter. Life was turning all different shades of gray.
I was fading into my own background, irrelevant in my own life.
Can you become your own afterthought?
Absolutely, and that is what I was quickly becoming. With all that already going on in my head, you can imagine the wreckage that was left sprawled across the landscape of my mind and soul after getting canned.
Canned. Like a fish.
Call me Charlie Tuna.
I was looking forward to Thanksgiving with all the enthusiasm of a turkey. I didn’t want to be thankful, I wanted to plant that seed of resentment and let it grow; nurture it until its vines choked the rest of my miserable existence away for good.
Weed in the garden? You better believe it.
I shivered through the evening, gliding between family members like a ghost. Not really acknowledging anyone. I managed to find twenty minutes of silence dropped in a chair next to the pool, echoes of laughter mocking me from people who were still alive.
Me? I was the ghost of Christmas future.
I was angry and bitter.
I know what you are thinking and you’re wrong.
I wasn’t really thinking about my former job at all. I have come to terms with the fact that it’s all over. That part of my life was crumpled up and thrown out like a two week old section of the Sunday paper. I felt like all that effort and experience was as useless as last year’s black Friday coupons.
And so out it went.
What I thought about, as I leaned back into the cold vinyl of the pool chair, was my father. I was wondering where he was.
More to the point, why wasn’t he there with me.
My Dad, if you had bothered to ask me years ago when there was life in those deep pools of brown beneath my eyebrows, was my hero. I wanted to be like him, kung Fu master, the hoodlum priest, respected by everyone, friend to everyman, devout follower of Christ.
A hero.
At least to me.
Well damn the devil, I have learned a little in this, the unenviable affliction of mid life crisis. He is just a man. A man with fears and dreams not realized and hope and he is weary.
Gray cracks in the armor, snow on the mountain, shaved and bare as it is.
He doesn’t call. He doesn’t come to me to console, to council, to tell me it gets better, light at the end of the tunnel, the darkest hour is just before dawn.
I would have settled for a stitch in time saves nine.
Insert your own cliché here.
I was mad at him for not being there.
Is that fair?
Do you know why he wasn’t there? Well, at least my opinion of it? I think he feels that I am strong enough to get through this, that somehow I am man enough to fight my way out of the shadows and come through like a champ.
In short, he looks at me the same way I looked at him as a kid, infallible, Herculean, imperturbable, a man’s man.
Guess what? He’s wrong too.
I got over the shadows and gloom and the whole daddy’s not here, waa, waa, waa, poor me long enough to stuff some hot turkey (better you than me pal) and other traditional food stuff into my gullet.
I passed on saying grace when offered the opportunity.
Just let me have my misery with a side of pity party to go with the gravy and stuffing thank you very much.
Friday came like morning always does, too soon and just a little too brightly for my tastes. But it was okay, I had a thing to do, a meeting to make, a prospective client to woo.
I thought it went well.
After I got home my brother in law came over and we basically blew stuff up online. LAN parties, you gotta love ‘em. I was pleasantly distracted until about 1 am with hover tanks, drop ships, titans and mech walkers.
Bang, bang, boom.
Saturday was so much better. I had fun the night before just goofing off and it was a beautiful day. We spent most of the day in the park with family and friends and I even got a call from my buddy Moe (yeah, the Moe listed up top as a contributor on the blog yet never posts… trust me he contributes behind the scenes).
He said he felt like a bad friend because he hadn’t spoken to me all week.
I laughed.
Are you kidding me, a bad friend? I don’t think he realizes how much his call helped. When someone is going through a tough time, we tend to leave them alone, not sure of what to do, or what to say.
I know, that’s usually what I do. I figured if I was in a pinch I would rather be alone and it is for the most part true. But what I need is different from what I want (and that topic is a whole other blog entry). I was glad for his call.
After the party in the park wrapped up we returned home, smiles on our faces, feeling really good.
Then I checked the mail box.
My last paycheck was in there.
I was determined to not let it get to me. So what? I’ll make more money somehow. I will get another job or I will make enough money freelancing to keep us going. It’s going to be okay. God said so.
I could see that shiny, glowing bit of hope above me.
It’s so pretty hanging there above my head like that. Makes me wanna just snatch it up in my hands and…
Then I opened the envelope and looked at the check.
I was expecting a full two week paycheck for whatever reason and there was only one week in there. Instead of enough money to cover the car payment, mortgage and get some food, there was enough for the car and food.
Suddenly that shiny bit of hope turned into a hook and I felt like I was yanked from the water and reeled in.
Ha! Got one! Look at the size of this one! Woo hoo!
Charlie Tuna.
I felt like someone had gutted me.
Pass the butter.
Wifey and I had officially reached our end point. What came next was about an hour of wailing and gnashing of teeth. What do we do? Why is this happening? We know people that are worse that seem to never have this kind of trouble, waa, waa, waa, poor us.
In the end Wifey needed a walk and left, disappearing into the warm night air.
The kids were in and out of my office yammering away, oblivious to the doom in the air.
Don’t you see it kids? It’s game over man, game over.
I was done.
Verklempt squared.
I quietly asked them to go watch a little tv for a bit, I had work to do. Hey, at least I had that $30 logo auction I sold on eBay!
They retreated to the living room, giggling and laughing all the way. I wish I was that young again, that innocent. I think back now and I can see my father sitting in the shadows during those days when we struggled financially and I get it know.
I so definitely get it.
I felt bad as the tears started to scald my face. Yeah, the burned. The greater the grief the more fire in the tears I think.
I tried to get up and walk out, to go sit with the kids and borrow some of their hope in the form of hugs and kisses and I love you daddy, you’re the best daddy in the world.
It’s the best medicine. A cure all.
I never got past the door.
I crumpled near the door, woozy and weak and struggling to contain the sounds of failure as I slumped to the floor sobbing. Who wants their kids to hear them falling apart? Night had finally descended on my life. It was dark and cold and so far from dawn. I felt the heavy wet blanket of despair cover my completely and I was lost in its darkness.
I cried to God. I asked why he hated me, why? Was I evil? I know that I am no saint. I know I have done things in my life that ought not to have been done. I cried out for forgiveness, for what felt like the one millionth time.
At least a million, probably more than that.
“I can’t take it. I can’t take it. Please, please God, please, all I want is a little hope. Hope. Please.”
The words spilled out of me, jumbled, bleeding, washed out of me with the tears.
They pooled at my feet. I wanted to lay down and give up.
Bankruptcy, foreclosure, near divorce, I had survived all of it before but I was at the very end.
“Please Jesus, I need some hope…”
Ah, the delicious weight of the world on you, the sweet, crushing press of all your guilt and shame and wasted opportunities.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
I felt like I needed air suddenly and I took a breath like a man that had his head held under water for too long.
I gulped that breath down, swallowed it along with what was left of my tears.
And it was gone, the weight, the gloom, the doom, the anxiety, gone.
Someone had taken that blanket off of me.
I stood up and wiped my face clean. I could feel my legs under me, I could breathe again.
The problems were still in the room with me but I was no longer afraid of them.
Yeah, weird huh? I had, dare I say it? Hope.
Hope.
I want to say it again.
Hope.
It showed up in a crumpled heap on the floor in the corner of my office on a Saturday night.
It’s still night outside as far as I can tell but I know that dawn approaches.
The glow is in the horizon people.
Dawn comes and I will wait for the new day.
Hope.

How am I doin'!?!? How YOU doin'!

2006-11-22T15:12:00.000-05:00

How you doin’? Me? I’m great… just peachy. See? I’m smiling! That means I am good to go. No need to check up on me. Everything is hunky dory.
Hunky dory I tell you!
Why is it that we could be dying on the inside and yet when someone asks us, how are you, you tell them fine, just fine, with this pained, one-flew-over-the-cuckoo’s-nest sort of smile?
And then, here’s the kicker, you get upset if no one reaches out to help.
At least I do... and the wifey. She does too. Maybe it’s me. I used to be able to tell when something was bothering someone and, once upon a time, I would ask if there was anything I could do. I hated to see someone in need and not do something.
Then I changed. Over the years I became more and more self centered.
It got to the point where even I didn’t like me. Now? Now I am trying to get back to where I used to be. You know, caring about my fellow human being and stuff.
Did getting fired make me change?
I don’t think so. This isn’t the first time in my life I have been through a rough patch or three.
I don’t know what’s different.
Maybe I am just sick of me, at least the old, recent version of me.
I’m not going to be Mother Theresa. For one thing, the habit won’t fit and for another, I’m not strictly speaking Catholic and the last time I checked you had to be Catholic to be a Nun, or at least Whoopi Goldberg. (Yeah, I had to add Whoopi to the old Microsoft Dictionary…)
And another thing, I’m not a woman though I have cried like one (once Johnny… once – softball liner back up the middle meets manhood, ‘nuff said)
I have no idea where this thought was going.
Uhm, well, forget. It will probably come to me just as I doze off to sleep tonight anyway.
No bites on the eBay auction. That’s more than a little disappointing but I am hoping for one of those zany Bad News Bears style comebacks.
And I don’t mean the one where the Yankees win after the coach gives his kid the Uber-Dad "slap that look off your face mister" slap on the mound in front of the whole stadium and they do that whole 2-4-6-8-who do we appreciate? Bears! Bears! Yay Bears!
No. Not that one.
I mean the whole, “Let them play! Let them play! Let them play!” thing at the old Astrodome.
Yeah. I need William DeVane to get the crowd watching my life whipped up into a frenzy rooting for me to win one for the Gipper… or who ever they were playing for.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to start on my list of things I am thankful for.

Chicken Noodle Soup for the soul...

2006-11-21T17:27:00.000-05:00

‘Soups on. I just finished up a nice bowl of Lipton Chicken Noodle soup. I decided that it was a little too plain so I livened things up with some bacon bits and a bit of fresh ground pepper (this year’s father’s day gift…) some garlic and oregano.
Good times.
So, freshly sated and slightly caught up with my work I’ve decided to get my daily notes out of the way.
I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your daily dosage.
Let’s see. Nothing major happened last night. I posted my first ebay auction for logo design on the web Sunday night. No bites as of yet. A few hits but I am an eBay virgin so no one is sure what to do with me I suppose.
I need to get something sold under my belt and get that whole feedback thing going. At least that’s what my sister-in-law says. She’s a professional eBay auctioneer.
Is that like a mouseketeer? Maybe.
She has an eBay Sellers Group that she invited me to join, so as to being my lucrative career as an eBay guru.
I was thinking of offering a few freebies to get things going and as if God was agreeing with me, she suggests the very same thing not ten minutes later. Weird to say the least.
I offered up 5 free logos to the first 5 folks that responded to my thread and voila!
Five volunteers lined up.
Sweet. That was too easy.
Oh yeah. They’re freebies. I won’t be earning anything on them. But the hope is that they will use them and people will see them and want their own and THEN I can earn some more soup money.
I love it when a plan comes together.
Oh yeah, good news. I got random call from a guy that said the got my resume from some temp agency or another (it started with a V… I don’t remember the name) and he wants me to come in to talk about possibly doing some web work. It’s not too far from where I live and if I can work in a telecommuting thing, I’m golden baby!
I told you God had a plan. Phht. You didn’t wanna believe me. Ha!
Told you so.
Okay, before you get all I-never-said-that-God-wouldn’t-do-nothing on me (yeah.. I know, I know, a double negative… relax. It’s a blog not the New York Times) I was looking in the mirror and pointing to myself as I said that.
So the told you so is for me.
I feel good today. Calm. I know things are going to be okay. It’s just hard to see beyond today and that is scary. At least for me.
Heh. A six foot, two hundred fifteen pound scaredy cat…
Go figure.
Everyone is afraid of something I guess.
Good thing God is bigger than the boogeyman.
(and if you got that joke you’ve been watching Veggie Tales…)
Hasta manana.

Woe is me...

2006-11-20T08:45:00.000-05:00

A poor man is shunned by all his relatives-
How much more do his friends avoid him!
Though he pursues them with pleading,
They are nowhere to be found.
-Proverbs 19:7(NIV)

I hate whiners. Yeah, not very Christian hating an entire segment of humanity like that. But you know what they say. You do know what they say right? Right!?!
(All together now, “No, what do they say?”)
We hate the things in others that we hate in ourselves.
I am in the mood to party, people.
Yep, I’m going to throw me a party - a pity party!
Imagine going through what I have gone through (some of you don’t even have to imagine, some of you are going through it now or have already gone through this sort of thing) and then trying to talk to family members about how you feel and looking for encouragement.
But what if all you get it is, “Wow, that’s too bad. Let me tell you about the drama in your brother’s life.”
I have been trying to talk to my Dad for more than a week now. Just to sit him down and get some spiritual advice or some older, experienced man’s perspective on how things in life don’t always work out and here, son, is how as a man you need to handle things kind of pep talk.
Waa, waa, waa, poor me.
I feel like Anthony Michael Hall in the Breakfast Club when Judd Nelson is making fun of his home life, except the dark sinister part of me is sort of like Judd Nelson wanting to kick the living Fruit Loops out of my softer more gentile Anthony Michael Hall side.
Golly gee Dad, can we talk for a minute?
Every time I call him he’s literally on a mission from God. He spends most of his retirement days volunteering in some capacity at his local church. If it’s not that, then he is dealing with my brother who is going through his own problems. The same brother I went to encourage the day after I got canned.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s great. I am proud of him. I’ve met the folks at his church and they love him to death. But right now I am feeling a little selfish. My kids want more time with their Grandfather. I need more time with him.
Waa, waa, waa, poor me.
I feel stupid for even complaining about it.
But that’s how I feel at the moment and so there you go.
At least he’s still alive right? I have a few friends that have lost their fathers already.
It sucks.
Wifey is going through the same thing, except when she calls her Mom, she gets the whole “your sister is driving me crazy” routine.
Waa, waa, waa poor Wifey.
Poor us.
Excuse me while my Judd Nelson side gives my Anthony Michael Hall side a wedgie.
This has to stop, seriously. If I am really trying to turn my problem over to Jesus like they taught us in Sunday school, why am I worried about what are parents are doing? Isn’t God supposed to be running the show anyway?
But they are our parents. Aren’t parents supposed to be there for their kids? Even when they are all grown up? We look to them for guidance and encouragement. Who else can we turn to for support of not them?
I have been reading this other verse, 1 Timothy 5:8.

“If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.”

It’s a little on the harsh side I think but when I read it I thought of my Dad. And guess what? That sounds just like me. Oh I don’t mean me not having a job. That is a different matter entirely. I mean being there for my kids, for my wife, for my family. For the last two years or so I have been supremely selfish. I don’t even have a mission from God to fall back on. I just have me, making excuses for the things I did or, rather, didn’t do.
I’m seeing that more clearly now.
There’s nothing like a little perspective.
Okay. I am done whining. I need to start my day now.

The Luckiest Man Alive...

2006-11-17T07:48:00.000-05:00

I made an executive decision last night. I’m going to attempt to grow a beard. That’s right. You heard me, a beard.
No shaving.
This isn’t some rabbinical tangent here. We are talking going all Grizzle Adams. Why not? It’s not like I have to impress a boss or anything, know what I mean? Why not just relax for a week and see what sort of vegetation grows in.
That I am not willing to spring ten bucks for replacement razors is beside the point.
I spent my first day at home yesterday. The work slate with the Confesor was light so I decided to work on my Mom’s website. She sews, knits, you know, all those lovely grandmaesque things. She’s good at it too. Make my little girl’s dresses each Christmas.
Oy, such workmanship! You know, it gets me right in the kishkes when I think about it.
And yes, I had to add oy and kishkes to my dictionary.
I also sat down and watched television for the first time in a week. It felt good to catch my breath for a bit.
I finally got to see The Man from Snowy River.
Great movie.
I loved the whole charging down the mountainside with the cracking of the whip and the beating of the horse hooves in the dirt. It was, to say the least, impressive, most impressive.
I was back at the gym this morning, trying to get some sort of routine re-established. The normal 5 am crowd were all “Where have you been all week?”
I laughed. It’s nice when people notice when you aren’t there, even if you don’t say more than hello in the morning. Makes you feel like part of the world in a weird don’t look at me while I am sweating on the treadmill kind of way.
I can’t help but feel blessed this morning.
I know that sounds crazy but let me explain. I saw their story on the news last weekend. A family of five was out boating when the boat sank. Tossed in the water, the father grabbed his youngest child, a three month old baby, and swam to shore. His wife survived but he lost a son and a daughter.
Last night, my kids where laughing and running all over the house. At one point they all jumped on me, giggling and laughing. They hugged me and kissed me and laughed some more.
I am the luckiest man alive.
I prayed for that family this morning. I prayed that God would somehow get them through this.
I know there are those of you out there that have lost children; my prayer was for you too. A pain like that doesn’t ever really heal. I don’t really know what else to say really. I was nearly in tears this morning at the gym listening to this man heart broken voice as he was interviewed. He spoke about how it wasn’t something that you survive day by day but rather minute by minute.
He is going to be on my heart all day today. And so will all of you that read this. (Yes, all ten of you…)
I will pray for you too just because.