Ok I got that 100th blog stuff out of my system so we'll start 101 with a new commitment to all of you, a new attitude, a new year, and an older (but newer) me!
First a challenge to all of you. What do you want to know about? Shit, in 62 years I've picked up a couple of things, led an interesting, albeit "un-wealthy" life, and as my darling wife of 40 years this June always says "You have an opinion on everything, but you're not always right!"
If I were a little younger,...no forget it, I'm gonna do it anyhow. I'm going to go hi-tech again and put a "web-cam" up and try this instant messenger stuff. I'll let you know when I get it done and how to "buzz me" or whatever it is you do to IM someone.
On to newer and better things. With the two deaths of friends this past fall I found mnyself slipping into a tad of a depression. Partly my age, partly my diet and exercise programs, (Ahem, WHAT diet and exercise programs? We'll talk later honey, and I'll prove to you Guinness is one of the major food groups.) And probably partly because I've always know your parnets are supposed to die before you, same with Aunts, Uncles, Grand-parents, etc. Hell I even knew that some buddies would die before me, that odd disease that never should have gotten them, that stupid war that they should have come marching home from after it was over, and yes even that tragic car accident, swimming accident, and other oddball things that happen. But I guess I really felt my local "buddies" would all make it through til some time later. My diet (I know wrong choice of word) went to hell. Some days I'd just have some peanut butter and crackers in the evening, that was all for the day. I had a hell of a time deciding to throw back the covers and get up, in fact for a guy who loves getting up at 5am I was tuning into a real sleep until fifteen minutes before you're due in the office, skip lunch or any other "time out" during the day, hit the Pub about 4:30 pm and have several Guinness watch the talking sports heads on the tube, go home and crash with a glass of wine, and hit the bead by 9 p.m. (I guess that qualifies as depressed!)
But Tra-da! It's all over, done, out with the trash, history, etc. I got pissed at myself because I knew I was being an asshole, to everyone, in a real universal manner. My wife was beginning to worry and told me go talk to the Doctor (against my personal philosophy. I got my ass in this position I have to get my ass out of it, and I'm sure as shit not going to some doctor who will most likely have either of two solutions; a) "take this prescription to the drug store, and take....", or door number 2 b) "I'm going to refer you to Doctor Wacko-fixer , he's outstanding in this area of ......."
Not even NO, but HELL NO! Thinking back over my life I started looking for times I was at peace with my self and my life, and enjoyed life. Start ruling out the ridiculous times (No, too old to go join the Navy again and know the next four years are guaranteed pay, healthcare, dental care, traveling around, and then there was the ,...oh shit, Icouldn't live on that kind of money today!) Think about the "Gung ho" and decisions and my decision making processes of twenty years ago (shit that won't work either I can't be living on Spaghettio's and twinkies for months at a time because I knew eventually I could make the business work, I'd wind up with a bloody ulcer!) Oh wait a minute, there was the time I started getting a regular massage. That helped bigtime. I would just let go and let the masseuse work her magic and BAM, kinks and knots all gone, bones turned to jelly, my mind the consistency of warm applesauce and empty of worries, ideas, or concerns. Hmmm, that's do-able, to a degree, maybe only every other week or once a month, but it's a start. So I make a call, schedule an appointment, and Voila!, My body is beginning to thank me. About an hour after the massage I realized I was hungry. First time in a couple of months where eating was a chore and a seemingly waste of time exercise that had occured. So how can I crank this up a little more without having to re-mortgage the house to pay for daily massages or divorce my wife and marry a masseuse! (A little fuzzy logic there folks, but I got over it!)
Then I remembered I used to "meditate" and it also was relaxing. I went upstairs to "the pit", started pawing over my old cassette tapes, CD's, etc. looking for my old meditation music. Then I remebered a book I had bought on TM (Trancendental Meditation, YUP, the same stuff the Beatles did in I think it was '67 when they went to India or Bengaladash looking for the Maharishi dude. Oh wait, this is 2006! Google knows everything so I fire up the old 'puter , hit google and type in "TM" (Shit, also the initials for the term "Trademark"!) Back to full term "Transendental Meditation". Woo-woo, dozens of sites, so like in the old war movies "cover me, I'm going in". A half hour later I got a telephone number off the website, (After digesting the dozens of pages of evidence, testimonies etc.) and I call. "Hi , We're sorry we missed your call, but if you'll.....", so I do, figuring I'll maybe get a call back in six weeks or so. An hour later the phone rings and poof! It's a live person. (By now I've hit a dozen more web sites and found a number of "new and exciting" breakthrough technologies that supposedly accomplish the same thing and was in the midst of checking them out.) I begin talking with this guy and we are chatting along fine and come to find out he is an authorized instructor of TM, lives only 20 miles away from me, and invites me over to explore it more on Wednesday (this is now Friday evening, two glasses of wine into "deep research") I remember last time I was checking out TM about eight years ago there was a fee of $400-$500 for the instruction, so I ask, "Ahh excuse me I'm sure there is a charge for this wonderful training on TM technique, so about how much are we talking? (I'm ready for the $695-$795 inflation upgrade price)
"Well there's no charge for the first meeting and we'll evaluate the reasons you want to learn TM. Then if you are really comitted to make it a part of your life the next step is five meeting in a two week period and we will have you meditating on your own after that, for the rest of your life."
"Hmmm, yes I understand, but how much?"
"Well it's a financial committment of $2500,...but that's all you will ever have to pay, and you'll be meditating for the rest of your life!"
"Ah sounds good, why don't you call me on Tuesday and let me see if I can clear my schedule for next Wednesday to meet with you (NOT!)"
Back to the Web for a better look at the "new technological breakthroughs".
The usual "NLP"(Neuro-lingustic programing") stuff is still around Sort of the "subliminal messaging" stuff. A coded "affirmation" embedded within the sixty-four piece symphonic music. Then there was the "neutral affirmation programs", anoither form of affirmation within a background of constant static that your mind hears but your ear doesn't. Then the plain old affirnmation tapes ( sort of a "you love yourself, you respect yourself, you love others and you respect thier decisions as well" (sort of the "Write 'I'm a shit head' six hundred times on the blackboard type training.)
Then I found this outfit out of Oregon somewhere (lot of that stuff going on out on the west coast). They had this "Holosync Solution" program on CD's,(by now glass #2 of the "smart and raspberryish"Australian Shiraz has mellowed my approach to life, lowered my skepticism, and boosted my curiosity, "Aw What the hell, I'll order it on line" (See how depressed I must have been to buy something on-line from someone I don't know and worse yet with a credit card (it did have a one year money back guarantee!), so I took the plunge.
I started using it about six days ago and my mind is really clearing up and my attitude is really starting to look up big time. I am less anxious, seem to be making more orderly progress, don't let anything bother me as much as it used to, and I'm up in the early hours again! (5:30 this morning!)
Best description I can give you is it's a half hour Stereo CD I listen to through headphones, to a contiuopus track of what sounds like a summer rain on a tin roof with you sitting under the roof on the front porch, oh and to spice it up a bit , there are like bells, or gongs, the kind you hear from Nepal, etc. with random sounds and spacing.
The whole point is obviously the same sort of "subliminal" thing, but is using sounds to move your brainwaves out of the "regular day" level into the three lower levels like sleep, while you stay conscious. At some levels you are more free to be creative than the "day to day level " of consciuosness, etc.
I'll keep you posted, but thus far it is working. I have another full week of using this CD, and then I add another CD to it and go from a 30 minute meditation to a sixty minute and drop down a couple of levels of consciousness to a clearer and better understanding of myself and my stressors, or something like that.
(No I haven't gone crazy, and yes I REALLY do feel more peaceful and balanced, and if any of you is into any form of this type of "meditation" please let me know.
Have a great day! Time to go the the "Christmas Party" I mentioned in my last blog
Peace and calm, life is short, eat dessert first!
-30-
Sunday, December 10, 2006
"It's the big one 'Liz'beth!"
According to the little nebbishes who keep track of this stuff, this is my 100th blog! Actually I knew it a week or so ago, and I wanted to write something special, something that would carry me into the shadow of Hemingway, make me an impoverished "cult hero", and stuff like that. Well, here it is a week later and no cataclysmic revalations have occured,.....so I guess we'll sort of "bullet point" a bunch of stuff for your consideration and entertainment.
1. Company Christmas Party today. 2-5 pm at one of the best restaurants in town, four star at least, sit down meal, awards and recognition, Christmas bonuses, listening to the very well paid tell the rest of us how much we mean to them and how WE are what makes the company grow and prosper and what a priveldge it is to work with such a fantastically talented and wonderful crew, and how we will put it "over the top" again next year,..blah, blah,blah. You get the idea, but guess what NO BAR, NO WINE, and a ton of the "Thank you Jesus" stuff. (Side note, if you don't show up you don't get a bonus!) Oh how I love working for those who have to decide between two rounds of golf next week and which Mercedes to put in the shop for an oil change, and the decision over the trip to Hawaii or Cancun for the holidays and yet can look me straight in the eye, Thank me for personally bringing them over $160,000 in business a year and REALLY think that helps me pay my bills each month, plus all my gas and vehicle expenses, plus my cell phone costs, (averaged over $7,000 for the first 6 months) all of that out of my $32,000 GROSS wages, no overtime, and "praise the Lord" the privelege of being part of thier "health plan" at $260 a month out of my pocket! (Maybe I'll become a Democrat or a bum, with a new Democratic leadership they'll be looking to take care of me big-time!)
2. I am a very proud United States Navy Veteran. I joined in the 1960's when the "hippy movement" and the peaceniks, and the "flower power", and "Equal Rights" folks and all that other crap was happening. I joined to serve my country, where ever and whatever they needed of me. The Viet Nam war was just beginning to really heat up. Our country was becoming totally polarized over it. I was proud, just as proud as those guys who spent weeks in trenches in WWI (World War One) with bullets all around, poison gas in the air, etc. , just like those guys who had to just about freeze to death in the French/ Belgium country side fighting the Nazi menace of WWII, or woke up to a Sunday morning of death and destruction in a place called Pearl Harbor. I speak of all of us who survived and came home, knowing WE made it possible for you to have your freedom to have those little white "buds" growing our of your ears, the freedom to not really give a shit about anyone other than yourself, the freedom to sleep most of your life away wondering who will win the important things of life, like "survivor", "American Idol", and the like. My only regret is the freedoms I gave five years of my life to protect have created a society that has no "cajones" to get a job done, like clean up the middle east. It is very clear the "kinder and gentler" America is going to be the beginning of the end of our society in this world. Like I always say "If you want to do WAR, let's do WAR, people are going to die, sons, daughters,mothers, children, fathers, brothers, sisters, best friends. People you know, love and care a great deal about are going to die. But that's because WAR is death, WAR is destruction, WAR is the perennial battle of light and dark, good and evil, sanity and insanity. So if you want to do WAR, bring it on, and don't you dare even give me shit about it! My job, every soldier, sailor and fighter is the most fundamental law of the earth, and none other,..."kill or be killed and take no prisoners". That is war!
3. Justice, ...what the hell is that? In the past forty years of my 20's to 60's I've sure as shit seen damn little of it around our whole planet. Why are there human beings , Americans even, born, brought up and living in my country with absolutely no health care? Why are there little children starving all over Africa? Why is it that people who WANT to work hard can not be paid anymore than a "living" or a shitty subsistence rate of pay? Why is it the rich get richer and the poor continue to get poorer? Why is it only the really wealthy can afford to "live", while the rest of the masses just barely "live til they die"? (Sorry, I guess I'm supposed to know the answers since I'm asking the questions.) When a man (or woman) kills another, is tried fairly, found guilty by a jury of their peers, and sentanced to death does it take twelve to fourteen years for the sentance to be carried out? And at the same time a man (or woman) who has to resort to stealing from others to personally survive (and I'm not talking "junkies" etc.) or feed thier family and gets caugth ahve to spend years and years in prison and the rest of thier entire life as a "convicted felon"? In that respect human rights are for the wealthy, not the humans.
4. But on a brighter note we all move forward. I have always believed in the dignity of man and the ability of any man (and woman) to rise above themselves, their environment, and thier surroundings,...if they want to. Some folks say I'm a pretty sharp guy, others think I'm a "loose cannon", and still others think I am far to cynical and "not politically correct". To my critics I say , "Up yours!" I am who I am, I am what I am. I can be your friend for life, as loyal and giving as any human who ever drew breath, OR I can make a horror movie look a lot nicer than your life. I'll always give you the choice.
5. On the personal side of life. As you know from reading this column I've lost two dear friends in the past two months. One who was a complete pauper in the world of savings, investments and property and lived the hand he got dealt with dignity and a full love of all mankind. A guy who told the Doctor that if he could just keep him alive until he was 65 and could sign up for the Medicare program he would have any tests the doc wanted done. Well he missed 65 by three months, 90 days, or 2160 hours. Look at your life for the past 90 days are you proud of the way you've lived them, what if you could have a "do over" in those 90 days, what would it be?
The other friend was WEALTHY (capital letters to emphasize the degree of wealthy), best doctors, every test available under his health insurance plan possible, phenomenol stock portfolio, trust funds for every one of his kids, and his grandkids, house on a huge lake for the summer, place on the Gulf of Mexico for the winter months, brand new Cadillac every year, not a worry about a thing, a great guy to talk with, and a guy who in his retirement found out the "dog eat dog" of a career was the price for "politically correct friends", but not the ones who just were generally glad to see him, and sit and "shoot the shit" with who were genuinely concerned about him as a person.
They both left the same way they came in, alone, without a chance to say a good bye to us, and absolutley without taking anything with them. Ain't life funny like that.
6. I would be completely remiss if I did not count the new friends I've come to meet on the net and thier "blogs", Lucy, SuvvyGirl, Rocky Mountain Princess, Jezzy, GBE, Alliecad, WaltonCad, MissDevilish, and the dozens I read and lurk around like Mental meatloaf, Bear tracks, Mimi in NY, Audrey, Bated breath, etc. We all have a place in this world and all of you help me remember I'm not alone, not the only person who is human, and that we are all of the one big marble with similar, but different lives. with similar, but different problems, but boil them all around and guess what? It all comes out the same WE ARE ALL HUMAN!
7. This 100 blog thing is overrated. I'm putting too much pressure on my self to be Hemingwayesque, but gess what it's still silly old me getting older, wiser(?) and still loving my Guinness.
Luck, Life, and Love ,....what more could you want?
-30-
1. Company Christmas Party today. 2-5 pm at one of the best restaurants in town, four star at least, sit down meal, awards and recognition, Christmas bonuses, listening to the very well paid tell the rest of us how much we mean to them and how WE are what makes the company grow and prosper and what a priveldge it is to work with such a fantastically talented and wonderful crew, and how we will put it "over the top" again next year,..blah, blah,blah. You get the idea, but guess what NO BAR, NO WINE, and a ton of the "Thank you Jesus" stuff. (Side note, if you don't show up you don't get a bonus!) Oh how I love working for those who have to decide between two rounds of golf next week and which Mercedes to put in the shop for an oil change, and the decision over the trip to Hawaii or Cancun for the holidays and yet can look me straight in the eye, Thank me for personally bringing them over $160,000 in business a year and REALLY think that helps me pay my bills each month, plus all my gas and vehicle expenses, plus my cell phone costs, (averaged over $7,000 for the first 6 months) all of that out of my $32,000 GROSS wages, no overtime, and "praise the Lord" the privelege of being part of thier "health plan" at $260 a month out of my pocket! (Maybe I'll become a Democrat or a bum, with a new Democratic leadership they'll be looking to take care of me big-time!)
2. I am a very proud United States Navy Veteran. I joined in the 1960's when the "hippy movement" and the peaceniks, and the "flower power", and "Equal Rights" folks and all that other crap was happening. I joined to serve my country, where ever and whatever they needed of me. The Viet Nam war was just beginning to really heat up. Our country was becoming totally polarized over it. I was proud, just as proud as those guys who spent weeks in trenches in WWI (World War One) with bullets all around, poison gas in the air, etc. , just like those guys who had to just about freeze to death in the French/ Belgium country side fighting the Nazi menace of WWII, or woke up to a Sunday morning of death and destruction in a place called Pearl Harbor. I speak of all of us who survived and came home, knowing WE made it possible for you to have your freedom to have those little white "buds" growing our of your ears, the freedom to not really give a shit about anyone other than yourself, the freedom to sleep most of your life away wondering who will win the important things of life, like "survivor", "American Idol", and the like. My only regret is the freedoms I gave five years of my life to protect have created a society that has no "cajones" to get a job done, like clean up the middle east. It is very clear the "kinder and gentler" America is going to be the beginning of the end of our society in this world. Like I always say "If you want to do WAR, let's do WAR, people are going to die, sons, daughters,mothers, children, fathers, brothers, sisters, best friends. People you know, love and care a great deal about are going to die. But that's because WAR is death, WAR is destruction, WAR is the perennial battle of light and dark, good and evil, sanity and insanity. So if you want to do WAR, bring it on, and don't you dare even give me shit about it! My job, every soldier, sailor and fighter is the most fundamental law of the earth, and none other,..."kill or be killed and take no prisoners". That is war!
3. Justice, ...what the hell is that? In the past forty years of my 20's to 60's I've sure as shit seen damn little of it around our whole planet. Why are there human beings , Americans even, born, brought up and living in my country with absolutely no health care? Why are there little children starving all over Africa? Why is it that people who WANT to work hard can not be paid anymore than a "living" or a shitty subsistence rate of pay? Why is it the rich get richer and the poor continue to get poorer? Why is it only the really wealthy can afford to "live", while the rest of the masses just barely "live til they die"? (Sorry, I guess I'm supposed to know the answers since I'm asking the questions.) When a man (or woman) kills another, is tried fairly, found guilty by a jury of their peers, and sentanced to death does it take twelve to fourteen years for the sentance to be carried out? And at the same time a man (or woman) who has to resort to stealing from others to personally survive (and I'm not talking "junkies" etc.) or feed thier family and gets caugth ahve to spend years and years in prison and the rest of thier entire life as a "convicted felon"? In that respect human rights are for the wealthy, not the humans.
4. But on a brighter note we all move forward. I have always believed in the dignity of man and the ability of any man (and woman) to rise above themselves, their environment, and thier surroundings,...if they want to. Some folks say I'm a pretty sharp guy, others think I'm a "loose cannon", and still others think I am far to cynical and "not politically correct". To my critics I say , "Up yours!" I am who I am, I am what I am. I can be your friend for life, as loyal and giving as any human who ever drew breath, OR I can make a horror movie look a lot nicer than your life. I'll always give you the choice.
5. On the personal side of life. As you know from reading this column I've lost two dear friends in the past two months. One who was a complete pauper in the world of savings, investments and property and lived the hand he got dealt with dignity and a full love of all mankind. A guy who told the Doctor that if he could just keep him alive until he was 65 and could sign up for the Medicare program he would have any tests the doc wanted done. Well he missed 65 by three months, 90 days, or 2160 hours. Look at your life for the past 90 days are you proud of the way you've lived them, what if you could have a "do over" in those 90 days, what would it be?
The other friend was WEALTHY (capital letters to emphasize the degree of wealthy), best doctors, every test available under his health insurance plan possible, phenomenol stock portfolio, trust funds for every one of his kids, and his grandkids, house on a huge lake for the summer, place on the Gulf of Mexico for the winter months, brand new Cadillac every year, not a worry about a thing, a great guy to talk with, and a guy who in his retirement found out the "dog eat dog" of a career was the price for "politically correct friends", but not the ones who just were generally glad to see him, and sit and "shoot the shit" with who were genuinely concerned about him as a person.
They both left the same way they came in, alone, without a chance to say a good bye to us, and absolutley without taking anything with them. Ain't life funny like that.
6. I would be completely remiss if I did not count the new friends I've come to meet on the net and thier "blogs", Lucy, SuvvyGirl, Rocky Mountain Princess, Jezzy, GBE, Alliecad, WaltonCad, MissDevilish, and the dozens I read and lurk around like Mental meatloaf, Bear tracks, Mimi in NY, Audrey, Bated breath, etc. We all have a place in this world and all of you help me remember I'm not alone, not the only person who is human, and that we are all of the one big marble with similar, but different lives. with similar, but different problems, but boil them all around and guess what? It all comes out the same WE ARE ALL HUMAN!
7. This 100 blog thing is overrated. I'm putting too much pressure on my self to be Hemingwayesque, but gess what it's still silly old me getting older, wiser(?) and still loving my Guinness.
Luck, Life, and Love ,....what more could you want?
-30-
Friday, December 01, 2006
"All of me,...why not take all of me,..."
Ok folks, what's this tune from and sung by whom?
Moving right along. I apologize for not being on the 'net sooner. Monday evenings news about my friend Ron was a kick in the gut, but there is a brighter side. Unlike Mikie who just "died", Ron had his life in order, right down to the list of friends for his son and daughter to call, his broker, his attorney, etc. Shit he did it all for us, and we just had to remember him. That's going out in style!
A number of the "mates" at the pub, asked me what we were going to do for Ron. At first i was really concerned about it, but as I heard more about how much Ron did himself, well, ... he did it all, he really did not need us in his dying process,...so be it! But we want to do "something"! At first we bantied about sending flowers, then we realized his friends in Michigan did not know us from a sharp stick in the eye. We then talked about making a donation to his favorite charity (a list of which his son gave us when I talked to him on monday evening) and we decided it would in fact be a "drop in the ocean". So what was the final resolution? Here it is.
Ron spent about eight or none months a year with us here in Florida. We drank togehter, we went out to dinner together, we had him over for the holidays his family wasn't going to be here, he hooked me up with his broker (a really great guy as well!), we traded stock "tips", we even invested in a couple of horses together. (Just for shits and giggles!). Ron came here to be with us to dump the stodgy old Vice President of one on America's top ten companies image to just sit and have a scotch and water (DeWar's) argue with us, defend his position amongst the "literatti" of our pub, join us each January for the giant SuperBowl party and get "blitzzed" like the rest of us. We bet the ball games toether, we bet the "ponies", shit we'd even bet on whether the "regulars" would all be in tonight. In short we enjoyed life together. The result? We are all going to Buster's one Friday evening in January, (date T/b/A) and have a few drinks with Ron's memory. He wasn't with us for the donations to the "Conservency Fund" or any other such thing. He was with us to be a unique person, like each of us, put in his two cents worthe, take shit from a "day laborer" that he never would have ever seen as a full Vice President, get harassed by a lowly retired machinist, whom he never would have ever said "hello" to in his "other life, about his terrible golf shots, and partied with us "regular folks" and enjoyed it so much.
The one thing we will all remember about ROn was his handshake. Every time he saw you his hand went out, and every time he had a "killer" grip. Just the mere "pressing of flesh" was Ron's way of making you know, "God, I care about you, and I value you as a friend."
Frankly I can't think of any thing more that would honor me than that handshake. I will most surely miss it. God speed Ron, we all loved you!
Moving right along. I apologize for not being on the 'net sooner. Monday evenings news about my friend Ron was a kick in the gut, but there is a brighter side. Unlike Mikie who just "died", Ron had his life in order, right down to the list of friends for his son and daughter to call, his broker, his attorney, etc. Shit he did it all for us, and we just had to remember him. That's going out in style!
A number of the "mates" at the pub, asked me what we were going to do for Ron. At first i was really concerned about it, but as I heard more about how much Ron did himself, well, ... he did it all, he really did not need us in his dying process,...so be it! But we want to do "something"! At first we bantied about sending flowers, then we realized his friends in Michigan did not know us from a sharp stick in the eye. We then talked about making a donation to his favorite charity (a list of which his son gave us when I talked to him on monday evening) and we decided it would in fact be a "drop in the ocean". So what was the final resolution? Here it is.
Ron spent about eight or none months a year with us here in Florida. We drank togehter, we went out to dinner together, we had him over for the holidays his family wasn't going to be here, he hooked me up with his broker (a really great guy as well!), we traded stock "tips", we even invested in a couple of horses together. (Just for shits and giggles!). Ron came here to be with us to dump the stodgy old Vice President of one on America's top ten companies image to just sit and have a scotch and water (DeWar's) argue with us, defend his position amongst the "literatti" of our pub, join us each January for the giant SuperBowl party and get "blitzzed" like the rest of us. We bet the ball games toether, we bet the "ponies", shit we'd even bet on whether the "regulars" would all be in tonight. In short we enjoyed life together. The result? We are all going to Buster's one Friday evening in January, (date T/b/A) and have a few drinks with Ron's memory. He wasn't with us for the donations to the "Conservency Fund" or any other such thing. He was with us to be a unique person, like each of us, put in his two cents worthe, take shit from a "day laborer" that he never would have ever seen as a full Vice President, get harassed by a lowly retired machinist, whom he never would have ever said "hello" to in his "other life, about his terrible golf shots, and partied with us "regular folks" and enjoyed it so much.
The one thing we will all remember about ROn was his handshake. Every time he saw you his hand went out, and every time he had a "killer" grip. Just the mere "pressing of flesh" was Ron's way of making you know, "God, I care about you, and I value you as a friend."
Frankly I can't think of any thing more that would honor me than that handshake. I will most surely miss it. God speed Ron, we all loved you!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
ok,...I'm getting pissed!!!!
Sorry for not writing until today, and even at that I'm going to be VERY brief!
Monday I went into my favorite pbu, Buster's, for a couple of pints and some comraderie with my mates. Then Glen, our faithful bar tender comes over and leans into me and says," Hey Tom, the blonde chick over there is talking to me about some guy named Ron who used to come in here and drink,...she says he died. She wants to know if anyone knew him. You want to handle it?"
"Yeah sure Glen, I'll talk to her."
I go over and say, something like , "my buddy Glen says you're asking about someone who hangs here who died. Can you give me a little more info and I'll see if I can help."
"Yeah, he was an older guy, you know sixty or seventy, white wavy hair. He went out with my friend Paula. You know who I'm talking about?"
Oh shit! That sounds like my buddy Ron!
"Did you know his last name?" I asked.
"Yeah it began with a T."
"Oh shit, was it Ron T*******?"
"Yeah, that's him. You know him?"
NOT AGAIN? WITHIN A FUCKIN' MONTH!!
I'll write agian tomorrow, I'm having a hard time with this.
-30-
Monday I went into my favorite pbu, Buster's, for a couple of pints and some comraderie with my mates. Then Glen, our faithful bar tender comes over and leans into me and says," Hey Tom, the blonde chick over there is talking to me about some guy named Ron who used to come in here and drink,...she says he died. She wants to know if anyone knew him. You want to handle it?"
"Yeah sure Glen, I'll talk to her."
I go over and say, something like , "my buddy Glen says you're asking about someone who hangs here who died. Can you give me a little more info and I'll see if I can help."
"Yeah, he was an older guy, you know sixty or seventy, white wavy hair. He went out with my friend Paula. You know who I'm talking about?"
Oh shit! That sounds like my buddy Ron!
"Did you know his last name?" I asked.
"Yeah it began with a T."
"Oh shit, was it Ron T*******?"
"Yeah, that's him. You know him?"
NOT AGAIN? WITHIN A FUCKIN' MONTH!!
I'll write agian tomorrow, I'm having a hard time with this.
-30-
Saturday, November 25, 2006
"Valley in the Clouds"
A new age CD by David Arkenstone, try it you'll like it!
As I got up today I had a number of things on my mind, not the least of which is a new "Weekly Report" my bosses want. It's of course and excel spreadsheet report designed to let them know exactly what the status of each of my clients is each week. It's not like I have time to play this silly mind fuck game, my job is to keep my clients happy, and that's forty to sixty hours a week by itself! Long story short I'm hoping this is just a "phase", you know, crack down for a few weeks until they don't have time to bother reading it anymore, then I just keep changing the date and develop "on-going" items which then become timeless as to start date, completion date, priority, cost, ownership, etc. (someone needs to seriously stop reading those top ten management books, or at least taking them seriously!)
Anyway on to blog 95.
What with everything happening, the world getting faster, me getting slower, and my personal timeclock registering mid afternoon my mind turns to seriously learning to simply settle itself into a calming place and gain a respite there whenever I want. Years ago I found myself studying different meditation techniques, trying meditation and trying to focus my self inward to a quit calming place. I must admit, I had some success, and I completely enjoyed the experiance. In fact I would be willing to bet you my energy levels were higher, my capacities for virtually everything was higher, and in particular my tolerance levels. Things that used to just "bug the shit" out of me became "bearable", I found myself less judgmental, more understanding, and mentally a lot clearer all the time. So what happened to that?
The world my friend, the world! One day I probably said, "I'm just to busy to meditate today, one day without it won't hurt.", and one became two, two, three, three, four, and here we are about twenty something years later. My feelings of being "unfocused", my level of "concern" about things, and numerous other things have caused me to decide I'm right back where I was and it sure as shit is not a good place to be, both physically and mentally,...so I damn well better do something about it before it does something to me!
Being a pack rat is a good thing beause I know I saved several of my meditational "tapes", a few books on Transendental Meditation, etc. now I begin the quest! "Where the hell did I put them?" Then I can begin the quest to heal my mind and train it to the true realities of life.
What are the true realities of life you ask? (Oh, you didn't, well tough shit you're gonna hear about them anyway!)
First of all, Man was not put here to spend life being tormented to any degree, nor any time, but in pursuing the flavor, the essense, the joy of this life. But somehow we all get sucked into the whirlpool. We need "stuff", "stuff" costs money, money is not free, and no matter how hard we work to get the "stuff" we think we want, it's always stays just a hair's breath away from our reach. Moral: like Clint Eastwood (a/k/a Dirty Harry) once said, "Well punk, do you feel lucky?"
We are all lucky, even though we sometimes don't believe it, realize it, or dare not grasp it firmly and claim it as our own. Luck is your life, learn to live with it. Make the adjustments you need to so it fits. Life is not like a pair of shoes, you can't wear them from a sixe 8 to a size 10, if you try you end up screwing up your feet, feeling pain and discomfort, and otherwise being miserable. Like the shoes if you, where you are now, does not "fit" better go make some changes or get another pair of eyes to look at life or just like the shoes, you'll do damage to you, and others!
As I got up today I had a number of things on my mind, not the least of which is a new "Weekly Report" my bosses want. It's of course and excel spreadsheet report designed to let them know exactly what the status of each of my clients is each week. It's not like I have time to play this silly mind fuck game, my job is to keep my clients happy, and that's forty to sixty hours a week by itself! Long story short I'm hoping this is just a "phase", you know, crack down for a few weeks until they don't have time to bother reading it anymore, then I just keep changing the date and develop "on-going" items which then become timeless as to start date, completion date, priority, cost, ownership, etc. (someone needs to seriously stop reading those top ten management books, or at least taking them seriously!)
Anyway on to blog 95.
What with everything happening, the world getting faster, me getting slower, and my personal timeclock registering mid afternoon my mind turns to seriously learning to simply settle itself into a calming place and gain a respite there whenever I want. Years ago I found myself studying different meditation techniques, trying meditation and trying to focus my self inward to a quit calming place. I must admit, I had some success, and I completely enjoyed the experiance. In fact I would be willing to bet you my energy levels were higher, my capacities for virtually everything was higher, and in particular my tolerance levels. Things that used to just "bug the shit" out of me became "bearable", I found myself less judgmental, more understanding, and mentally a lot clearer all the time. So what happened to that?
The world my friend, the world! One day I probably said, "I'm just to busy to meditate today, one day without it won't hurt.", and one became two, two, three, three, four, and here we are about twenty something years later. My feelings of being "unfocused", my level of "concern" about things, and numerous other things have caused me to decide I'm right back where I was and it sure as shit is not a good place to be, both physically and mentally,...so I damn well better do something about it before it does something to me!
Being a pack rat is a good thing beause I know I saved several of my meditational "tapes", a few books on Transendental Meditation, etc. now I begin the quest! "Where the hell did I put them?" Then I can begin the quest to heal my mind and train it to the true realities of life.
What are the true realities of life you ask? (Oh, you didn't, well tough shit you're gonna hear about them anyway!)
First of all, Man was not put here to spend life being tormented to any degree, nor any time, but in pursuing the flavor, the essense, the joy of this life. But somehow we all get sucked into the whirlpool. We need "stuff", "stuff" costs money, money is not free, and no matter how hard we work to get the "stuff" we think we want, it's always stays just a hair's breath away from our reach. Moral: like Clint Eastwood (a/k/a Dirty Harry) once said, "Well punk, do you feel lucky?"
We are all lucky, even though we sometimes don't believe it, realize it, or dare not grasp it firmly and claim it as our own. Luck is your life, learn to live with it. Make the adjustments you need to so it fits. Life is not like a pair of shoes, you can't wear them from a sixe 8 to a size 10, if you try you end up screwing up your feet, feeling pain and discomfort, and otherwise being miserable. Like the shoes if you, where you are now, does not "fit" better go make some changes or get another pair of eyes to look at life or just like the shoes, you'll do damage to you, and others!
Secondly, what is the rush? When I owned my Country Western Nightclub one of the Bands used to play a tune, by Alabama that went like this;
I'm in a hurry to get things done
I'm in a hurry to get things done
Oh I rush and rush until life's no fun
All I really gotta do is live and die
But I'm in a hurry and don't know why
I leave in plenty of time
Shakin' hands with the clock
I hear a voiceThat says I'm running behind
Better pick up my pace
It's a race and there ain't no room for someone in second place
Love that song, it speaks to the futility of trying to make life fit into us, rather than us into life. As my rebellious daughter, and by the way rebellious grand daughter as well have been known to say, "You aren't the boss of me!"
I'll wrap this one up with the good news that I just broke away from the keyboard, found the book, and a couple of my old "cassette tapes". Step number one see if I can get the tapes to record in my 'puter, then dump them to CD's. The one thing that used to annoy me was when side one of the tape ended and I'd have to turn it over. Kind of like a phone call during the "dirty deed"!
Back tomorrow with another report. Oh if any of you know much about TM or meditation techniques PLEASE get in touch and enlighten me. Like I said the clock is in mid afternoon, I need a few short cuts to Utopia, Nirvana, "the zone" or where ever I'm going with this.
(p.s. Being the male of the species you surely must know I am not going to look at a map, but I will ask directions, I've learned that much humility.
:)
-30-
Friday, November 24, 2006
Are you lonesome tonight, are you..."
Ok! no contest, this is Elvis!!
Now onto reality. As a "blogger" I tend to write it "like it is", at least from my prospective. Now I would like to challenge you to help me out.
My Granddaughter, (ie. ten days into being fourteen, got "busted" trying to buy marijuana. Is this a bad thing? I don't pass judgement.) My wife and I have offered to have her come to our home in Florida for a "few weeks" to relax, comtemplate her "mistake" and see what the real world is all about.
As she is a teen, I predict she will not be "thrilled" with my way of life. (old fart existence!!) But what I challenge you, my friends in the "blog" world, is to talk to her. Tell her of your experiances in life, your hopes, and regrets, and your feelings for the next fifty years.
At 62, the probability of me "making it" for another twenty years is "slim to none". I accept that. But I would like to know that beyond me (Bamp) there are other people, that she's never even met, or even hope to meet, who have a care about her life. Perhaps I'm selfish, but I watched this girl be born into this world, watched her grow into the young woman she is, and as a "prophet" can see the absolutely SUPER lady she can be be in the "new world". Help me out here and share with her your thoughts and feelings on being a part of this new world we all face.
I will set her up with her own "blog" and ask you to respond directly to her. As my one and only grand daughter I amy be biased, bit she is worth it!!!
Mr. Guinness
Thank you!
Mr. Guinness
-30-
Now onto reality. As a "blogger" I tend to write it "like it is", at least from my prospective. Now I would like to challenge you to help me out.
My Granddaughter, (ie. ten days into being fourteen, got "busted" trying to buy marijuana. Is this a bad thing? I don't pass judgement.) My wife and I have offered to have her come to our home in Florida for a "few weeks" to relax, comtemplate her "mistake" and see what the real world is all about.
As she is a teen, I predict she will not be "thrilled" with my way of life. (old fart existence!!) But what I challenge you, my friends in the "blog" world, is to talk to her. Tell her of your experiances in life, your hopes, and regrets, and your feelings for the next fifty years.
At 62, the probability of me "making it" for another twenty years is "slim to none". I accept that. But I would like to know that beyond me (Bamp) there are other people, that she's never even met, or even hope to meet, who have a care about her life. Perhaps I'm selfish, but I watched this girl be born into this world, watched her grow into the young woman she is, and as a "prophet" can see the absolutely SUPER lady she can be be in the "new world". Help me out here and share with her your thoughts and feelings on being a part of this new world we all face.
I will set her up with her own "blog" and ask you to respond directly to her. As my one and only grand daughter I amy be biased, bit she is worth it!!!
Mr. Guinness
Thank you!
Mr. Guinness
-30-
Thursday, November 23, 2006
We have a winner!!
A Gold Kudo, for Mike. Yes indeed it was ABBA!
It's Thanksgiving afternoon and I'm sitting here writing to all of you, my wife is on her computer in the next room trying to figure out the Web cam I just installed for her. (Damned if I know how it works!)
Thanks to Rebeka for your really sincere and honest note, can't wait for you guys to get back, even if it's only for a visit. (P.S. I bought Barb the web cam last Christmas and being the KING of procrastinators on some things, forgot all about installing it until I read your e-mail, soooo, I installed it and she can figure out how to make it work. Drop her a line if you know how, or tell me and I'll try and look like the hero!)
Usually my Wife cooks a HUGE meal, we have friends over, I get yellow cards and always an eventual red card as I insure all the beer and wine is adequately "tested" so as not to risk any of our guests being "poisoned". But this year we decided to just go out to dinner for the holiday. (For my Aussie friends Thanksgiving is a celebration of the bounties of our lives based around an old tradition that when the "pilgrims" (oppressed religious types not welcomed any longer in England around 1620 a.d.) set sail and landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts, USA aboard a DAMN small little boat called the "Mayflower". One story goes that they lived in peace and harmony with the Native American Indians of the area, another goes that they not only brought new customs and other "stuff", but smallpox, which decimated the Indians. But anyhow they supposedly sat down together and ate together, and thus was born Thanksgiving. (That is the deeply abridged version)
Anyhow, we crazy Americans eat lots of Turkey, 'taters, cranberry sauce, turnips, squash, desserts, and mandatory "snacks" and liquid replenishments. Then we all collapse and watch a couple football games on TV, fall asleep about 8pm, and look forward to three more days off if you are lucky.
If you are in retail,...well another whole ball of wax. Not only do you have to go to work for the next three days, including Sunday, but it is the closest thing to a human feeding frenzy at 5a.m. and earlier as these stupid people all descend on the retail stores for what is knownas "Black Friday". Retailers have always made a big deal of it as it signals the Christmas buying season and they all want all your money TOMORROW! They open at 3, 4, 5 a.m., they offer insane "early bird" deals (80% off for the first 300 people, three for one pricing, etc.) All manner of civility disappears, people push, yell, run, swear at each other, drag kids around like rag dolls for fifteen hours,....all in pursuit of "the deal" for Christmas shopping. Most retailers, being so "employee sensitive" (excuse me I just choked!!) won't even let thier people off for lunch, they have "junk food" brought in to keep them working! Thank God I got out of that rat race last year!!
Yes my pretty, this year I am off thursday, friday, saturday and sunday. And I'm not doing SHIT!! (probably not true as I will get bored as hell by Friday afternoon, I guarantee!)
Well it's getting close to dinner time and I'm getting hungry, time to get appetite going with a little glass of Merlot or Shiraz, you know ...prime the pump.
Happy day to all, I think I'll do a few more blogs before the Weekend is over. (Just realized this is number 92! Coming up on 100 blog articles in a week or two, and the thought police have not showed up yet!!
-30-
It's Thanksgiving afternoon and I'm sitting here writing to all of you, my wife is on her computer in the next room trying to figure out the Web cam I just installed for her. (Damned if I know how it works!)
Thanks to Rebeka for your really sincere and honest note, can't wait for you guys to get back, even if it's only for a visit. (P.S. I bought Barb the web cam last Christmas and being the KING of procrastinators on some things, forgot all about installing it until I read your e-mail, soooo, I installed it and she can figure out how to make it work. Drop her a line if you know how, or tell me and I'll try and look like the hero!)
Usually my Wife cooks a HUGE meal, we have friends over, I get yellow cards and always an eventual red card as I insure all the beer and wine is adequately "tested" so as not to risk any of our guests being "poisoned". But this year we decided to just go out to dinner for the holiday. (For my Aussie friends Thanksgiving is a celebration of the bounties of our lives based around an old tradition that when the "pilgrims" (oppressed religious types not welcomed any longer in England around 1620 a.d.) set sail and landed in Plymouth, Massachusetts, USA aboard a DAMN small little boat called the "Mayflower". One story goes that they lived in peace and harmony with the Native American Indians of the area, another goes that they not only brought new customs and other "stuff", but smallpox, which decimated the Indians. But anyhow they supposedly sat down together and ate together, and thus was born Thanksgiving. (That is the deeply abridged version)
Anyhow, we crazy Americans eat lots of Turkey, 'taters, cranberry sauce, turnips, squash, desserts, and mandatory "snacks" and liquid replenishments. Then we all collapse and watch a couple football games on TV, fall asleep about 8pm, and look forward to three more days off if you are lucky.
If you are in retail,...well another whole ball of wax. Not only do you have to go to work for the next three days, including Sunday, but it is the closest thing to a human feeding frenzy at 5a.m. and earlier as these stupid people all descend on the retail stores for what is knownas "Black Friday". Retailers have always made a big deal of it as it signals the Christmas buying season and they all want all your money TOMORROW! They open at 3, 4, 5 a.m., they offer insane "early bird" deals (80% off for the first 300 people, three for one pricing, etc.) All manner of civility disappears, people push, yell, run, swear at each other, drag kids around like rag dolls for fifteen hours,....all in pursuit of "the deal" for Christmas shopping. Most retailers, being so "employee sensitive" (excuse me I just choked!!) won't even let thier people off for lunch, they have "junk food" brought in to keep them working! Thank God I got out of that rat race last year!!
Yes my pretty, this year I am off thursday, friday, saturday and sunday. And I'm not doing SHIT!! (probably not true as I will get bored as hell by Friday afternoon, I guarantee!)
Well it's getting close to dinner time and I'm getting hungry, time to get appetite going with a little glass of Merlot or Shiraz, you know ...prime the pump.
Happy day to all, I think I'll do a few more blogs before the Weekend is over. (Just realized this is number 92! Coming up on 100 blog articles in a week or two, and the thought police have not showed up yet!!
-30-
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Money, Money, Money,...it's a rich man's world!
Ok, usually I tell you the song and the group that did it, but this time it's your turn! If you know who sang the title song of my blog send a comment with the answer. The first five right answers (that's 'cause it's really easy!) win a genuine, gold plated "kudo" and the right to move on to round two,..."Where are they now?"
This is a sort of short blog becasue I've been getting real lazy. I used to be up and on the 'puter around 5 a.m. sucking the bottom from the coffee cup and all, but the last month or two I've kind of been pulling the covers over my head and drifting back to oblivion til seven-ish. (Got to be at work at eight!)
While I love this new job I can honestly say it's ,as the announcer of the original Superman used to intone with his deep baritone voice, "battling the forces of evil everywhere". The faster than a speeding bullet part is a real pain in the butt. Apparently my firms concept of the "job" is that of something akin to Viet Cong guerilla, run in, pop a few small rounds about, plant a couple of "booby traps", and take off and go to the next one. If all the accounts are in a perpetual washing machine cycle of "fill", "wash", "agitate", "spin" and "drain", well they will never really get to the part where they have to go in the dryer and get all warm and fluffy!
Voila! That constant state of "organized turmoil" reinforces the fact that without you they are doomed and aside from asprin you are the cure of every headache, problem, and thing that happens to them, and thier best bet is not to bother you since YOU and YOU ALONE will ferret out the (rich deep baritone announcer time again) "...truth, justice , and the American way!"
I guess it's really more like the old dude that used to be on "The Ed Sullivan Show" (if you are under 50 years old you most probably don't have a clue what that was, but it was the VERY first place the Beatles appeared before United States television audiences, and Elvis, and on and on and,..well you get the idea, OLD and black & white).
Back to the old dude. He used to have this table, about ten or twelve feet long, regular height, and about every foot or so in the table for it's entire length was a three foot, or so, rod, or dowel sticking straight up. They were flexible. He had this "gorgeous sexy assisstant" who went to this table behind him and took a regular dinner plate and brought it over to him. He would take the plate and put it on the end of the rod and start spinning it, she would go on and give him another plate and he would repeat it, and again and again, then he would have to keep running back to the original one and give it a "boost" and get it spinning strait again, add another plate to another stick, run back and "boost" a couple more, etc. After a few minutes he would have fifteen or twenty plates all spinning in some form of "decaying spin" as he raced faster and faster to keep up with the decaying spin and the "boosts" (Guess that's the origin of the old expression "keeping a lot of plates spinning")
Finally when it looked like it was all going to come to a crashing disaster he would run down the whole line and recover every single plate with nary one broken. The auduence would burst into wild applause and hurrahs. Then you realized you had been holding your breath for the last five minutes. (Ok, so little things amuse little minds! I wonder if anyone does that trick any more?)
This is a "happy blog" becasue I have a long hard day today and decided I needed to write an "upper" to motivate myself to go fight the forces of evil and triumph in the battle for (deep baritone announcer time again!) "....truth, justice, ...and the American Way!"
I think I'll do a really nice blog for Thanksgiving since I have the four day weekend off and we decided to go out to dinner for Thanksgiving this year as family is all scattered all over the U.S., Mikie is no longer around to have over, and the rest of my friends all are traveling for the holidays.
Sometimes a quiet four days is perfect as the way to enter the "Holiday Season" and the retail feeeding frenzy begins and we are buried in a lot of that stupid repetative retail holiday crap that passes for sincereity! (Better stop, the cynic is waking up and I need him asleep for today!!)
-30-
This is a sort of short blog becasue I've been getting real lazy. I used to be up and on the 'puter around 5 a.m. sucking the bottom from the coffee cup and all, but the last month or two I've kind of been pulling the covers over my head and drifting back to oblivion til seven-ish. (Got to be at work at eight!)
While I love this new job I can honestly say it's ,as the announcer of the original Superman used to intone with his deep baritone voice, "battling the forces of evil everywhere". The faster than a speeding bullet part is a real pain in the butt. Apparently my firms concept of the "job" is that of something akin to Viet Cong guerilla, run in, pop a few small rounds about, plant a couple of "booby traps", and take off and go to the next one. If all the accounts are in a perpetual washing machine cycle of "fill", "wash", "agitate", "spin" and "drain", well they will never really get to the part where they have to go in the dryer and get all warm and fluffy!
Voila! That constant state of "organized turmoil" reinforces the fact that without you they are doomed and aside from asprin you are the cure of every headache, problem, and thing that happens to them, and thier best bet is not to bother you since YOU and YOU ALONE will ferret out the (rich deep baritone announcer time again) "...truth, justice , and the American way!"
I guess it's really more like the old dude that used to be on "The Ed Sullivan Show" (if you are under 50 years old you most probably don't have a clue what that was, but it was the VERY first place the Beatles appeared before United States television audiences, and Elvis, and on and on and,..well you get the idea, OLD and black & white).
Back to the old dude. He used to have this table, about ten or twelve feet long, regular height, and about every foot or so in the table for it's entire length was a three foot, or so, rod, or dowel sticking straight up. They were flexible. He had this "gorgeous sexy assisstant" who went to this table behind him and took a regular dinner plate and brought it over to him. He would take the plate and put it on the end of the rod and start spinning it, she would go on and give him another plate and he would repeat it, and again and again, then he would have to keep running back to the original one and give it a "boost" and get it spinning strait again, add another plate to another stick, run back and "boost" a couple more, etc. After a few minutes he would have fifteen or twenty plates all spinning in some form of "decaying spin" as he raced faster and faster to keep up with the decaying spin and the "boosts" (Guess that's the origin of the old expression "keeping a lot of plates spinning")
Finally when it looked like it was all going to come to a crashing disaster he would run down the whole line and recover every single plate with nary one broken. The auduence would burst into wild applause and hurrahs. Then you realized you had been holding your breath for the last five minutes. (Ok, so little things amuse little minds! I wonder if anyone does that trick any more?)
This is a "happy blog" becasue I have a long hard day today and decided I needed to write an "upper" to motivate myself to go fight the forces of evil and triumph in the battle for (deep baritone announcer time again!) "....truth, justice, ...and the American Way!"
I think I'll do a really nice blog for Thanksgiving since I have the four day weekend off and we decided to go out to dinner for Thanksgiving this year as family is all scattered all over the U.S., Mikie is no longer around to have over, and the rest of my friends all are traveling for the holidays.
Sometimes a quiet four days is perfect as the way to enter the "Holiday Season" and the retail feeeding frenzy begins and we are buried in a lot of that stupid repetative retail holiday crap that passes for sincereity! (Better stop, the cynic is waking up and I need him asleep for today!!)
-30-
Monday, November 13, 2006
Sittin' on the dock on the Bay,..."
I love to start each post with whatever "pops" into my brain as a musical inspiration. Oh yeah,...Otis Redding, ..what a tune!
Sometimes we feel like we're just "sittin' on the dock on theBay, watching as time flows away, yeah". (Old Fart Rant coming! Strap on you're helmets young'uns and get ready!)
I got to thinking a lot about time today. And I mean a lot.
This Saturday is the service we're having for Mikie. (God I miss that dude already!) I have his ashes and we scheduled a "get together" at the Whale's Tail (a local watering hole right on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, about twenty five feet to the water) The plan is a simple one that I hope even Mikie would be happy about. We gather at 3p.m., have a drink and chat about our honored guest's final farewell. Maybe there's tears, maybe there's hugs, maybe there is laughter. It's been a full month, and the schock has past, the memories are flowing in all of us like that cold morning when you reach down and pull a blanket up over you and feel the warmth. There were some recriminations, some disputes, but it's over, for this is Mikie's last time to be physically with us. We have a list of folks who want to "share" , and I'm the last one on the list, because someone close to him has to bring us all to closure, and set our friend free to be above, below and all around us, bringing that periodic dumb goofy memory of him that will keep the dude alive in us.
After I say my goodbyes, I will take a portion of the ashes, walk down to the Gulf, and scatter them (totally illegal by the local ordinaces, but it's Mikie, so f**k 'em!) then I'll invite all the other folks to do the same, until we have put Mikie totally to rest.
Having grown up Roman Catholic, taken years to realize so many things are not a "sin", learned that we are all people who IF we choose to live by a faith must discern the truths of that faith and learn to separate the "human intervention" in that faith, from the true meaning of that faith, I have come a long way.
So what do I want done with me? (Sorry if I'm freaking some of my younger readers out, but I am closer to facing the reality of life than you,...we are all bound to die, eventually.) No I'm not a "Jesus freak", or a "born again" person, nor a anything. I choose to believe what I believe, what I define as my "faith". Faith in a lot of respects is like a custom made Armani suit. Sure I can "buy off the rack" , but with that comes the legs that are too long, the button that has to be moved, the "butt" that is great as long as you don't bend over. I'm just not an off the rack kind of guy when it come to faith.
Then you have the quasi-agnostic, whose idea of religion is as non-sensical as oragami. Pretty to see and talk about, but can you cut it?
So what do I believe? I believe the truths of Christianity are good. The tenants of the whole "love thy neighbor as thyself" a truly phenomenally deep truth for everyone. Do I have to go to church each Sunday? No! Can I want to delve deeply into transendental meditation? Most assuredly. Would I deliberately want to, nay, even be able to, consciously hurt another human being, be they Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddist, or "other"? No!
You're faith is about your very innnermost soul, the place that only you can go, and only you can be totally intimate within. Do I love to drink, Damn right! Do I enjoy the hell out of sex? Are you brain dead, mais certainment! But my "faith" allows for that and not to be a "bible quoter" (for I really don't have much respect for folks who have to use what someone else says as thier thought, spit out on you're own, by God you are unique, be that way!
I love mankind, I love people, and I love the fact that none of us, and I mean none of us, including me, come anywhere near being perfect!
My buddy Carl drives a $200,000 Bentley sedan. I once asked him "Where do you take it to be serviced?" He looked at me like I really should have known this and said, "They come and pick it up in a truck and leave me a car to use while they fix it." Now Carl and I know each other from the Pub, we both love football, Guinness, and frank conversation. Is he rich?, Yeah,...in fact freakin' filthy rich, and he's trying to give it all away before he dies because he knows, ...you will never , ever, see a hearse with a U-haul behind it. I like Carl because he's human, he's been to the summit, and he knows. It's about you , me, us and making folks believe they are unique, and that they count.
Sorry , I digressed. The end of me is simple, call the "1-800" number, they'll drag my old shot bones to a crematorium. Then take the next four weeks and seek counsel, get my affairs in order, hug my children, let my friends hug you, cry when you need to, snuggle up to my cat instead of me, because he will most certainly miss me just as much, clean out my "stuff", and wake up every day with one simple thought, "life is for the living", I've had my life, you still have your's,....live it!
In four weeks do what you want, have a church service, scatter my ashes, keep them on the mantle, it doesn't matter. The "Me" you knew still loves you 'til all the stars in the heavens burn out, ...but I'm gone. Remember me, but don't idolize me, go on with your life, ...for that is what life is about,....life! God what a beautiful gift we have,... do we appreciate it?
-30-
Sometimes we feel like we're just "sittin' on the dock on theBay, watching as time flows away, yeah". (Old Fart Rant coming! Strap on you're helmets young'uns and get ready!)
I got to thinking a lot about time today. And I mean a lot.
This Saturday is the service we're having for Mikie. (God I miss that dude already!) I have his ashes and we scheduled a "get together" at the Whale's Tail (a local watering hole right on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, about twenty five feet to the water) The plan is a simple one that I hope even Mikie would be happy about. We gather at 3p.m., have a drink and chat about our honored guest's final farewell. Maybe there's tears, maybe there's hugs, maybe there is laughter. It's been a full month, and the schock has past, the memories are flowing in all of us like that cold morning when you reach down and pull a blanket up over you and feel the warmth. There were some recriminations, some disputes, but it's over, for this is Mikie's last time to be physically with us. We have a list of folks who want to "share" , and I'm the last one on the list, because someone close to him has to bring us all to closure, and set our friend free to be above, below and all around us, bringing that periodic dumb goofy memory of him that will keep the dude alive in us.
After I say my goodbyes, I will take a portion of the ashes, walk down to the Gulf, and scatter them (totally illegal by the local ordinaces, but it's Mikie, so f**k 'em!) then I'll invite all the other folks to do the same, until we have put Mikie totally to rest.
Having grown up Roman Catholic, taken years to realize so many things are not a "sin", learned that we are all people who IF we choose to live by a faith must discern the truths of that faith and learn to separate the "human intervention" in that faith, from the true meaning of that faith, I have come a long way.
So what do I want done with me? (Sorry if I'm freaking some of my younger readers out, but I am closer to facing the reality of life than you,...we are all bound to die, eventually.) No I'm not a "Jesus freak", or a "born again" person, nor a anything. I choose to believe what I believe, what I define as my "faith". Faith in a lot of respects is like a custom made Armani suit. Sure I can "buy off the rack" , but with that comes the legs that are too long, the button that has to be moved, the "butt" that is great as long as you don't bend over. I'm just not an off the rack kind of guy when it come to faith.
Then you have the quasi-agnostic, whose idea of religion is as non-sensical as oragami. Pretty to see and talk about, but can you cut it?
So what do I believe? I believe the truths of Christianity are good. The tenants of the whole "love thy neighbor as thyself" a truly phenomenally deep truth for everyone. Do I have to go to church each Sunday? No! Can I want to delve deeply into transendental meditation? Most assuredly. Would I deliberately want to, nay, even be able to, consciously hurt another human being, be they Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Buddist, or "other"? No!
You're faith is about your very innnermost soul, the place that only you can go, and only you can be totally intimate within. Do I love to drink, Damn right! Do I enjoy the hell out of sex? Are you brain dead, mais certainment! But my "faith" allows for that and not to be a "bible quoter" (for I really don't have much respect for folks who have to use what someone else says as thier thought, spit out on you're own, by God you are unique, be that way!
I love mankind, I love people, and I love the fact that none of us, and I mean none of us, including me, come anywhere near being perfect!
My buddy Carl drives a $200,000 Bentley sedan. I once asked him "Where do you take it to be serviced?" He looked at me like I really should have known this and said, "They come and pick it up in a truck and leave me a car to use while they fix it." Now Carl and I know each other from the Pub, we both love football, Guinness, and frank conversation. Is he rich?, Yeah,...in fact freakin' filthy rich, and he's trying to give it all away before he dies because he knows, ...you will never , ever, see a hearse with a U-haul behind it. I like Carl because he's human, he's been to the summit, and he knows. It's about you , me, us and making folks believe they are unique, and that they count.
Sorry , I digressed. The end of me is simple, call the "1-800" number, they'll drag my old shot bones to a crematorium. Then take the next four weeks and seek counsel, get my affairs in order, hug my children, let my friends hug you, cry when you need to, snuggle up to my cat instead of me, because he will most certainly miss me just as much, clean out my "stuff", and wake up every day with one simple thought, "life is for the living", I've had my life, you still have your's,....live it!
In four weeks do what you want, have a church service, scatter my ashes, keep them on the mantle, it doesn't matter. The "Me" you knew still loves you 'til all the stars in the heavens burn out, ...but I'm gone. Remember me, but don't idolize me, go on with your life, ...for that is what life is about,....life! God what a beautiful gift we have,... do we appreciate it?
-30-
Friday, November 10, 2006
Friday is when the world says "Enough!"
Hey folks, sorry I haven't written this week. It's like the old saying, "when it rains it pours" It's been so bad I'm not even getting to the Pub on time for my daily "Vitamin G" infusion! But as I look across our virtually empty office, check and see if my watch is still ticking, and realize there is still another three hours in the workday, ...but there is no one here to work! I guess my whole office is having a "bad week". But I'm the "old trooper" who stays on the job until quittin' time.
No applause please!!
So what's up for the weekend? Well tomorrow I guess I'll try my newest hobby, (sleeping in til 7am) since I don't have to go to work. Then a leisurely breakfast (eight or ten cups of coffee), perhaps go "shopping" with the wife,....but then again,...well we'll see on that one. Cruise the book store and see what's new, maybe "piddle around" on my computer and try and figure out how to "secure" my new wireless access point thing, pop by the pub for a pint, maybe get a movie, relax and go to bed.
Then again maybe I'll go rent a Harley, cut the sleeves off my shirt, get a tatoo and go for a ride. (NOT!!!) A friend of mine offered to sell me thier Harley, it's a 2004 Sportster with virtually no miles on it, for $7,500. (I'm thinking about it!)
Or maybe I'll go down to the docks, see if I can get a slot on one of the sport fishing party boats and go out in the Gulf of Mexico and see what I can catch for dinner. ($150 for a slot, three hours out, three hours back, if it's really rough seas it's puking all the way, about two hours "on-spot",... naw, it's a lot easier to go to the fish store and get some, and a lot cheaper too!
Or maybe I'll just go tourist and drive around town taking left turns with my right turn signal on, hit the restaurants all day and steal sugar and salt and pepper packets, complain about the food and get even more off to keep me from making an "old fart" scene, hit the clothing store and look for a flaw of any kind or a loose buttin and then demand a 40% discount for "shoddy" products. Then I can go to a local sports bar scream and yell and swear for some college football team, scoff a few free beers from fans who think I'm with them. "Man they are killing us, we need to kick some serious butt here,....oh man look at that, that's aggrevated assualt, not a tackle, ...call it ref, call it,.. you blind mo****-f****r" Shit I lost my wallet, anyone spot me a beer til I can go out to the car?"
Or maybe go and "lurk" at Starbucks. Man, whoever had the balls to charge those prices for a cup of coffee, now there's a dude with steel balls! It's only coffee, get over it!!!
Speaking of get over it, someone just came through the office to tell us that for $25 you can go down to the local drug store and get a flu shot, while they last! Now you say something like that and it's the senior set's feeding frenzy. "I was in line before you and I'm sicker than you." Listne you old battle axe you want to see sick look at the size of my joints from the arthritis. I'd slug you but my osteoperosis would cause all the bones in my hand to shatter!"
Oh boy, the sleeping in and going shopping with my wife is looking better and better. (As long as she doesn't get into the shoe department! I swear I could put shoes on half the women in China with just what's in her closet! (Ok, by now you've figured it out that she doesn't know my "blog" name, and Annonymous (a/k/a my daughter) if you tell her you are no longer in my will and I'll become a Rastufarian!
God, I've only killed a half hour here in my cubicle! Maybe I'll re-arrange my cubicle,...naw theat would make the guy in the next one happy. He hates that I LOVE the "handsfree mode" on my phone. this way I can continue working, occasionally mutter a "Yup, I know exactly what you're saying", or be able to give my callers a two handed "bird" knowing they can't see me. Ooops! Just noticed my "message waiting" light is on, ...hang on I'll be right back.
Just as client's secretary wanting me to tell her how to get an extra cable tv hookup done for her boss. (real answer? Get off your ass and call around and find out yourself. Don't ask some poor thing you barely pay enough to pay her bills and eat to find out how you can get something for you oceanfront "weekend place" while she has to sit home and sweat with not even air-conditioning! Sorry, I tend to rant at this type of shit!
got to go,
-30-
No applause please!!
So what's up for the weekend? Well tomorrow I guess I'll try my newest hobby, (sleeping in til 7am) since I don't have to go to work. Then a leisurely breakfast (eight or ten cups of coffee), perhaps go "shopping" with the wife,....but then again,...well we'll see on that one. Cruise the book store and see what's new, maybe "piddle around" on my computer and try and figure out how to "secure" my new wireless access point thing, pop by the pub for a pint, maybe get a movie, relax and go to bed.
Then again maybe I'll go rent a Harley, cut the sleeves off my shirt, get a tatoo and go for a ride. (NOT!!!) A friend of mine offered to sell me thier Harley, it's a 2004 Sportster with virtually no miles on it, for $7,500. (I'm thinking about it!)
Or maybe I'll go down to the docks, see if I can get a slot on one of the sport fishing party boats and go out in the Gulf of Mexico and see what I can catch for dinner. ($150 for a slot, three hours out, three hours back, if it's really rough seas it's puking all the way, about two hours "on-spot",... naw, it's a lot easier to go to the fish store and get some, and a lot cheaper too!
Or maybe I'll just go tourist and drive around town taking left turns with my right turn signal on, hit the restaurants all day and steal sugar and salt and pepper packets, complain about the food and get even more off to keep me from making an "old fart" scene, hit the clothing store and look for a flaw of any kind or a loose buttin and then demand a 40% discount for "shoddy" products. Then I can go to a local sports bar scream and yell and swear for some college football team, scoff a few free beers from fans who think I'm with them. "Man they are killing us, we need to kick some serious butt here,....oh man look at that, that's aggrevated assualt, not a tackle, ...call it ref, call it,.. you blind mo****-f****r" Shit I lost my wallet, anyone spot me a beer til I can go out to the car?"
Or maybe go and "lurk" at Starbucks. Man, whoever had the balls to charge those prices for a cup of coffee, now there's a dude with steel balls! It's only coffee, get over it!!!
Speaking of get over it, someone just came through the office to tell us that for $25 you can go down to the local drug store and get a flu shot, while they last! Now you say something like that and it's the senior set's feeding frenzy. "I was in line before you and I'm sicker than you." Listne you old battle axe you want to see sick look at the size of my joints from the arthritis. I'd slug you but my osteoperosis would cause all the bones in my hand to shatter!"
Oh boy, the sleeping in and going shopping with my wife is looking better and better. (As long as she doesn't get into the shoe department! I swear I could put shoes on half the women in China with just what's in her closet! (Ok, by now you've figured it out that she doesn't know my "blog" name, and Annonymous (a/k/a my daughter) if you tell her you are no longer in my will and I'll become a Rastufarian!
God, I've only killed a half hour here in my cubicle! Maybe I'll re-arrange my cubicle,...naw theat would make the guy in the next one happy. He hates that I LOVE the "handsfree mode" on my phone. this way I can continue working, occasionally mutter a "Yup, I know exactly what you're saying", or be able to give my callers a two handed "bird" knowing they can't see me. Ooops! Just noticed my "message waiting" light is on, ...hang on I'll be right back.
Just as client's secretary wanting me to tell her how to get an extra cable tv hookup done for her boss. (real answer? Get off your ass and call around and find out yourself. Don't ask some poor thing you barely pay enough to pay her bills and eat to find out how you can get something for you oceanfront "weekend place" while she has to sit home and sweat with not even air-conditioning! Sorry, I tend to rant at this type of shit!
got to go,
-30-
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
God, I love these toys!!!!
Just a quick blast, I decided toi try wireless and have successfully installed a wireless "access point" on my four station hardwired network. Only five hours last night and two tonight, not bad for a "technologically challenged" old fart.
Now I can take my laptop down to my recliner, sip a delicate bordeaux, watch the old Law & Order re-runs and blog til I fall asleep.
Ready for the first blog tomorrow night?
Oh for you younger folks. Raising our three kids (now ages 39,37, and 30 ) it was heel on wheels. We strongly suspect the youngest found the drug scene, but he's still alive, cleaned up his act and just got married, so there's hope. But my wife got a call from our daughter today and our barely 14 (September 18 birthday) just got expelled from school for getting busted in a Marijuana buy at school!!
Life was supposwed to get better. I really wanted to be the soft, cuddly , fun "Grandpa", but looks like I'm going to have to go back to the kick ass drill sargent and find out what the hell is up with this shit.
Am I opposed to Mary J, not at all, but at least give the rest of your life as a child (i.e. up to and including your college, or University years) a complete run through, then as a quasi adult try what you want.
But 14? That's pure bullshit any way you cut it!!
Chat with you tomorrow.
-30-
Now I can take my laptop down to my recliner, sip a delicate bordeaux, watch the old Law & Order re-runs and blog til I fall asleep.
Ready for the first blog tomorrow night?
Oh for you younger folks. Raising our three kids (now ages 39,37, and 30 ) it was heel on wheels. We strongly suspect the youngest found the drug scene, but he's still alive, cleaned up his act and just got married, so there's hope. But my wife got a call from our daughter today and our barely 14 (September 18 birthday) just got expelled from school for getting busted in a Marijuana buy at school!!
Life was supposwed to get better. I really wanted to be the soft, cuddly , fun "Grandpa", but looks like I'm going to have to go back to the kick ass drill sargent and find out what the hell is up with this shit.
Am I opposed to Mary J, not at all, but at least give the rest of your life as a child (i.e. up to and including your college, or University years) a complete run through, then as a quasi adult try what you want.
But 14? That's pure bullshit any way you cut it!!
Chat with you tomorrow.
-30-
Sunday, October 29, 2006
"Just when you think you're out,...they drag you back in...."
( Quote from Michael Corleone, Godfather III)
I hate to share this with you, it fucks up my faith in mankind,...and scares the shit out of me!!!
I've blogged about my mate "Mikie", and his tragic death a week ago. I've shared my memories and my thoughts as well as my comments on "Mikie" telling me he's ok. But what I say now is beyond my comprehension, beyond my understanding of human nature, and beyond my sense of human dignity!
As I related to you, last Saturday I had asked Mikie to go to the Florida State/Boston College football game with me, and took my wife and spent the day remembering Mikie, and the last two seconds of "success" from an "arm that came out of the pile" and secured the Boston College victory.
While I was at the game remembering Mikie more than watching the "game" , several 'friends' were going through his belongings, supposedly "looking for informnation" which we could use to trace Mikie's background and next of kin. Supposedly they found nothing except his birth certificate.
Yesterday his old roommate ( a woman who had been beaten by her boyfriend, that Mikie took in for ten months) called me to tell me they were "cleaning out his stuff".
His most prized possession, his computer, was removed by a person I know Mikie would not even walk across the street for, amd in fact had called a "scumbag". And today find out the same person took all of his tools out of his vehicle to "sort them out and clean them up". BULLSHIT!!!!!
I guess as a human being I'm schocked that another human being could not wait the two or three weeks it takes for "no next of kin" to be declared to "pick the bones". I am totally disgusted!!!!
I had offered that individual the "jobs" that Mikie had open to comlete through the end of the year!!
Guess what? Tomorrow all bets are off! I'll get someone else to finish up "Mikies" jobs, to complete them with a sense of "honor" (look it up, it's something that meant something to those of us who knew it's meaning!).
Mikie, I'm sorry death is more painfuthan life, but you were dead on right,....the same folks you never trusted when you were alive, are those who you would never trust when you're dead!
I'm doing my best man, and those who know you know it!
(Thanks for the big play last week at the FSU/BC game,...I know it was you. Rest in peace. We damn well will make sure you go out with dignity, ..trust me on this!
-30-
I hate to share this with you, it fucks up my faith in mankind,...and scares the shit out of me!!!
I've blogged about my mate "Mikie", and his tragic death a week ago. I've shared my memories and my thoughts as well as my comments on "Mikie" telling me he's ok. But what I say now is beyond my comprehension, beyond my understanding of human nature, and beyond my sense of human dignity!
As I related to you, last Saturday I had asked Mikie to go to the Florida State/Boston College football game with me, and took my wife and spent the day remembering Mikie, and the last two seconds of "success" from an "arm that came out of the pile" and secured the Boston College victory.
While I was at the game remembering Mikie more than watching the "game" , several 'friends' were going through his belongings, supposedly "looking for informnation" which we could use to trace Mikie's background and next of kin. Supposedly they found nothing except his birth certificate.
Yesterday his old roommate ( a woman who had been beaten by her boyfriend, that Mikie took in for ten months) called me to tell me they were "cleaning out his stuff".
His most prized possession, his computer, was removed by a person I know Mikie would not even walk across the street for, amd in fact had called a "scumbag". And today find out the same person took all of his tools out of his vehicle to "sort them out and clean them up". BULLSHIT!!!!!
I guess as a human being I'm schocked that another human being could not wait the two or three weeks it takes for "no next of kin" to be declared to "pick the bones". I am totally disgusted!!!!
I had offered that individual the "jobs" that Mikie had open to comlete through the end of the year!!
Guess what? Tomorrow all bets are off! I'll get someone else to finish up "Mikies" jobs, to complete them with a sense of "honor" (look it up, it's something that meant something to those of us who knew it's meaning!).
Mikie, I'm sorry death is more painfuthan life, but you were dead on right,....the same folks you never trusted when you were alive, are those who you would never trust when you're dead!
I'm doing my best man, and those who know you know it!
(Thanks for the big play last week at the FSU/BC game,...I know it was you. Rest in peace. We damn well will make sure you go out with dignity, ..trust me on this!
-30-
Life in the fast lane,....sort of!
Well another weekend is winding down, it's Sunday afternoon, I'm just popping off a blog before I go to the pub and watch a bit of football with my mates.
Here I am 62 years old and I'm becoming a "clothes whore"! I think I've spent more on clothes this year than in the last twenty combined!! All of a sudden, (and don't tell my wife or I'll have to kill you!), I decided I wanted to look better,...at 62,..for what, to wow the government clerk when I go apply for social security next year?
You're talking to a "basic dude"here. By that I mean the ultimate in male simplicity in terms of dress. I don't like jeans, Levi's, Wranglers, or anyone elses name, sewn across my butt. I'm your basic "tan pants" kind of guy. Call them Khaki's, Dockers, I don't care, just light tan slacks. They work in every circumstance (ok, not in "formal", but you would not want to invite me to one of those things anyhow, I'd be the guy asking for the Guinness, not the "perky little Chardonnay"). Now given the fact that I have at least ten pair of tan pants, oops my mind is beating the inside of my head to say something "pithy", I can't hold it back,...it's forcing it's power into my arms, down my fingers to the ,...agrrr....,
(ATTENTION: Deep philosophical questions here: Why do they refer to pants as a "pair", and it ain't because it has two legs, and then why are they called "slacks"? Twelve "kudo's" to anyone with a good answer. Later we'll deal with the "Why" when men and women can both wear "slacks", but men can only wear "pants" while women call them "Capri's", "Toreadors", and a number of other things besides "pants"!)
OK, I re-gained control from that little wise-ass. Now moving on to the rest of the wardrobe. Fifty "kudo's" for anyone that can name a single above the waist garment that will not go with tan pants! Male or female everything goes with Tan pants! A formal tuxedo shirt, a ratty old tee, a designer golf or polo shirt, an old football uniform jersey, even the old "wife-beater" shirts work! So there you have it. Tan pants and whatever has the least amount of wrinkles on top, "voila", and a guy is "good to go".
Ok, at the risk of offending women, besides a ratty old set of (tennis, running, walking, etc) shoes, a pair of loafers, and some "Birkies" why would there be a need for anything else on my feet?
And to top off the "ensemble de jour" of course a baseball cap, but not necessarily of a baseball nature. A lot of guys (yup me too!) have vast collections of them. Everytime I go somewhere I gotta buy a souvenier hat to take home. I may never ever wear it again in my life, but I gotta buy it for that day, in that place, at that time. (I think there is a clause in the United States Constitution about the "inalienable right for guys to have favorite hats", or maybe it was the Bill of Rights or the Magna Carta,...hmmm, I'l have to look that up.)
OK now for Mr. Guinness's pet peeves in life, (relative to clothing that is, we'll deal with my other "peeves" another time!)
#! Girls, "birds", women, or any other term you want to use, look absolutely marvelous in anything they wear. (Alright, it's a very broad, (no pun intended), even collossal generalization, but more generally truer than falser) ANYTHING that is EXCEPT "ball caps". In my entire 62 years on this earth I can only recall about four women who actually looked good in a ball cap. (Sorry Ladies, but the truth shall set you free!) I don't know if it's the "way" you wear them, the way you adjust them, or if you were all just were born with wierd heads!! Now as I said I really appreciate the female of our species, but so far as ball caps are concerned don't do it ladies, we know how dorky they are on women! Don't believe me, then ask a few of your male acquaintances to be brutally honest with you and tell you if you look good in a "ball cap". If they move their lips, they are lying! If they say something like "Honey, I'd love to see you in just a ball cap." Slap them alongside the head and go out and ask a stranger. If they say you look great in one then tell them you're entering a contest for best looking female in a ball cap, and I'll bet they try and talk you out of it (that's true love!). And if they say they "really would rather not comment" either marry them, or send them to Lucy for they are the proverbial honest man!
(IF YOU CHOOSE TO PROVE ME WRONG SEND A PIX (with the Ballcap in place) IN YOUR "COMMENTS" AND I"LL LET THE READERS MAKE THAT DECISION.
Ok, stop seething and wanting to pull my tonsils out through your computer moniter, guys also PISS ME OFF when they don't "work the bill"(Brim) of a ball cap. Have you ever seen anything more dumb than a ball cap with a perfectly flat "brim"? It looks like you just got popped off the latest assembly line for a Plutonian impression of a "humanoid". Roll them brims guys, it's your trademark!
I was going to stop here and go watch the game and have a couple pints, but the "backwards thing" on ball caps just clicked on in my head, and I can't stop, I gotta throw my two cents worth in. The ONLY human beings on this earth who have a God given right to wear ball caps backwards are farmers and field hands, (or "rednecks", a now derogatory term relative to the crude, rude, neanderthal, primary number of braincells collectively held by the family, folks of this world. BUT, it didn't used to be that way! "Redneck was a good term used for those hard-working people who worked in the fields every day and the "sunburn" on the back of thier neck. DUH!, I guess that's why there are no "rednecks" in the big cities, or other bastions of "highly evolved social behavior and grace". Or are they simply better educated and politically correct?) And of course there is the group who must be "different" and rather than 180 degrees turned, opt for the 30 to 45 degree angle. Now how dumb is that?
How did I get here? Damn, I must be ranting!
Anyone got a drop dead, killer, beef stew recipe? Let me know. And have a great week, back at you mid-week for sure!
-30-
Here I am 62 years old and I'm becoming a "clothes whore"! I think I've spent more on clothes this year than in the last twenty combined!! All of a sudden, (and don't tell my wife or I'll have to kill you!), I decided I wanted to look better,...at 62,..for what, to wow the government clerk when I go apply for social security next year?
You're talking to a "basic dude"here. By that I mean the ultimate in male simplicity in terms of dress. I don't like jeans, Levi's, Wranglers, or anyone elses name, sewn across my butt. I'm your basic "tan pants" kind of guy. Call them Khaki's, Dockers, I don't care, just light tan slacks. They work in every circumstance (ok, not in "formal", but you would not want to invite me to one of those things anyhow, I'd be the guy asking for the Guinness, not the "perky little Chardonnay"). Now given the fact that I have at least ten pair of tan pants, oops my mind is beating the inside of my head to say something "pithy", I can't hold it back,...it's forcing it's power into my arms, down my fingers to the ,...agrrr....,
(ATTENTION: Deep philosophical questions here: Why do they refer to pants as a "pair", and it ain't because it has two legs, and then why are they called "slacks"? Twelve "kudo's" to anyone with a good answer. Later we'll deal with the "Why" when men and women can both wear "slacks", but men can only wear "pants" while women call them "Capri's", "Toreadors", and a number of other things besides "pants"!)
OK, I re-gained control from that little wise-ass. Now moving on to the rest of the wardrobe. Fifty "kudo's" for anyone that can name a single above the waist garment that will not go with tan pants! Male or female everything goes with Tan pants! A formal tuxedo shirt, a ratty old tee, a designer golf or polo shirt, an old football uniform jersey, even the old "wife-beater" shirts work! So there you have it. Tan pants and whatever has the least amount of wrinkles on top, "voila", and a guy is "good to go".
Ok, at the risk of offending women, besides a ratty old set of (tennis, running, walking, etc) shoes, a pair of loafers, and some "Birkies" why would there be a need for anything else on my feet?
And to top off the "ensemble de jour" of course a baseball cap, but not necessarily of a baseball nature. A lot of guys (yup me too!) have vast collections of them. Everytime I go somewhere I gotta buy a souvenier hat to take home. I may never ever wear it again in my life, but I gotta buy it for that day, in that place, at that time. (I think there is a clause in the United States Constitution about the "inalienable right for guys to have favorite hats", or maybe it was the Bill of Rights or the Magna Carta,...hmmm, I'l have to look that up.)
OK now for Mr. Guinness's pet peeves in life, (relative to clothing that is, we'll deal with my other "peeves" another time!)
#! Girls, "birds", women, or any other term you want to use, look absolutely marvelous in anything they wear. (Alright, it's a very broad, (no pun intended), even collossal generalization, but more generally truer than falser) ANYTHING that is EXCEPT "ball caps". In my entire 62 years on this earth I can only recall about four women who actually looked good in a ball cap. (Sorry Ladies, but the truth shall set you free!) I don't know if it's the "way" you wear them, the way you adjust them, or if you were all just were born with wierd heads!! Now as I said I really appreciate the female of our species, but so far as ball caps are concerned don't do it ladies, we know how dorky they are on women! Don't believe me, then ask a few of your male acquaintances to be brutally honest with you and tell you if you look good in a "ball cap". If they move their lips, they are lying! If they say something like "Honey, I'd love to see you in just a ball cap." Slap them alongside the head and go out and ask a stranger. If they say you look great in one then tell them you're entering a contest for best looking female in a ball cap, and I'll bet they try and talk you out of it (that's true love!). And if they say they "really would rather not comment" either marry them, or send them to Lucy for they are the proverbial honest man!
(IF YOU CHOOSE TO PROVE ME WRONG SEND A PIX (with the Ballcap in place) IN YOUR "COMMENTS" AND I"LL LET THE READERS MAKE THAT DECISION.
Ok, stop seething and wanting to pull my tonsils out through your computer moniter, guys also PISS ME OFF when they don't "work the bill"(Brim) of a ball cap. Have you ever seen anything more dumb than a ball cap with a perfectly flat "brim"? It looks like you just got popped off the latest assembly line for a Plutonian impression of a "humanoid". Roll them brims guys, it's your trademark!
I was going to stop here and go watch the game and have a couple pints, but the "backwards thing" on ball caps just clicked on in my head, and I can't stop, I gotta throw my two cents worth in. The ONLY human beings on this earth who have a God given right to wear ball caps backwards are farmers and field hands, (or "rednecks", a now derogatory term relative to the crude, rude, neanderthal, primary number of braincells collectively held by the family, folks of this world. BUT, it didn't used to be that way! "Redneck was a good term used for those hard-working people who worked in the fields every day and the "sunburn" on the back of thier neck. DUH!, I guess that's why there are no "rednecks" in the big cities, or other bastions of "highly evolved social behavior and grace". Or are they simply better educated and politically correct?) And of course there is the group who must be "different" and rather than 180 degrees turned, opt for the 30 to 45 degree angle. Now how dumb is that?
How did I get here? Damn, I must be ranting!
Anyone got a drop dead, killer, beef stew recipe? Let me know. And have a great week, back at you mid-week for sure!
-30-
Friday, October 27, 2006
Sometimes I wanna' go home
This should be a good blog, I'm sitting here with a glass of my favorite Shiraz/Merlot blend, Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake pumped up on my speakers, in my "comfies"and ready to talk to you, my real friends! I say that because you are there for me, not the mortal "capsule" my spirit is enclosed within, not for an "erudite" prose or comment, but because I tell you who I am from the heart, whenever this damn keyboard gets in the way of my fingers.
No morose comments tonight. No flashbacks to the past week. But let's look ahead!
The sun comes up each day, and it shines with brilliance. What the hell more could one ask for!
Ahh! But I've thought of something!
I wish there was a web site that we could all share that after, and I stress after, only 100 "blogs", you could click into and see "who your friends are".
The past week has been tough, but the past several months have been great!
How so you ask!
Easy, I've connected with human beings all over this planet. My mind boggles at the thought of being able to "hit a few keys" and chat with "Lucy", and Jezzy" in Australia, "Suvvy" in Nebraska, "Allie" about ten miles away from me in Florida. Do you realize how connected we are?????
(Rant coming on, please tune out if you are that offended!)
As a kid (I know, before automobiles, planes, tv, and ipods) it never dawned on me how big our world was! Sure I studied geography, and all that stuff, but that was "book-learning". I never knew a girl in Australia, actually two of them, would touch me as deeply just pounding on these keys.
I never even concieved of even knowing someone in Nebraska, USA, let alone someone ten miles away ready to put her life on the line for a way of life!
So what am I "rambling about"? It's about you , me, and the whole damn world! Are we really that different? Sure some of us (sorry Lucy!) may talk funny, some of us (Jezzy, I apologize!) are looking to the sky's and wondering "why me?", and some of us,(Sorry Suvvy!) just look at the world and say" imprefect is a norm, but I'll live with it!".
And then there are the places I "lurk". I won't list them, but they are indeed "life".
So I guess I'll tag everyone who stumbles on this blog and reads it.
As the who said, "WHO are you?, WHOOO, are you?, Who , who , who!"
Why do you write? Why do you care? Do you think we make a difference, or are we all "spinning our wheels"?
Do I care about United States policy, or the reality of this world, or that there are poor people and rich people, and kind people and cruel people. Do I care that as I write this how many people are dying because they have no food to eat, no food for thier children? Do I care if Lucy, Suvvy, Miss Devilish, Jezzy, GBE, or anyone else live thier live's and make a difference? Couldone of them find the cure for Cancer, diabetes, or any other factor of this world? Or could any one of them bring into this world the child that will? OK, maybe I'm off target, but these are my friends, and I know they care. Sure we each ahve our own life to be concerned about, but in these folks I sense a difference. May the force of life be with us!
-30-
No morose comments tonight. No flashbacks to the past week. But let's look ahead!
The sun comes up each day, and it shines with brilliance. What the hell more could one ask for!
Ahh! But I've thought of something!
I wish there was a web site that we could all share that after, and I stress after, only 100 "blogs", you could click into and see "who your friends are".
The past week has been tough, but the past several months have been great!
How so you ask!
Easy, I've connected with human beings all over this planet. My mind boggles at the thought of being able to "hit a few keys" and chat with "Lucy", and Jezzy" in Australia, "Suvvy" in Nebraska, "Allie" about ten miles away from me in Florida. Do you realize how connected we are?????
(Rant coming on, please tune out if you are that offended!)
As a kid (I know, before automobiles, planes, tv, and ipods) it never dawned on me how big our world was! Sure I studied geography, and all that stuff, but that was "book-learning". I never knew a girl in Australia, actually two of them, would touch me as deeply just pounding on these keys.
I never even concieved of even knowing someone in Nebraska, USA, let alone someone ten miles away ready to put her life on the line for a way of life!
So what am I "rambling about"? It's about you , me, and the whole damn world! Are we really that different? Sure some of us (sorry Lucy!) may talk funny, some of us (Jezzy, I apologize!) are looking to the sky's and wondering "why me?", and some of us,(Sorry Suvvy!) just look at the world and say" imprefect is a norm, but I'll live with it!".
And then there are the places I "lurk". I won't list them, but they are indeed "life".
So I guess I'll tag everyone who stumbles on this blog and reads it.
As the who said, "WHO are you?, WHOOO, are you?, Who , who , who!"
Why do you write? Why do you care? Do you think we make a difference, or are we all "spinning our wheels"?
Do I care about United States policy, or the reality of this world, or that there are poor people and rich people, and kind people and cruel people. Do I care that as I write this how many people are dying because they have no food to eat, no food for thier children? Do I care if Lucy, Suvvy, Miss Devilish, Jezzy, GBE, or anyone else live thier live's and make a difference? Couldone of them find the cure for Cancer, diabetes, or any other factor of this world? Or could any one of them bring into this world the child that will? OK, maybe I'm off target, but these are my friends, and I know they care. Sure we each ahve our own life to be concerned about, but in these folks I sense a difference. May the force of life be with us!
-30-
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
"One step over the line sweet Jesus, one foot over the line"
"....waitin' on the train to go home sweet Jesus, one foot over the line."
Many, many thanks to all of you who write, called, or otherwise expressed your thoughts on Mikie. We still have more to do before we can finally lay him to rest, (actually scatter his ashes over the Gulf of Mexico). Being in this legal world we all live in let me tell youit's a pain in the butt!!. I've finally tracked down the attorney who handled Mikie's brother's estate about four years ago, and he is looking through the old files to get Mikie's sister's telephone number for me. She is legally the next of kin.
Mikie's roommate and three of our friends went through his "stuff" Sunday, and even in death Mikie get's the last laugh. He has succeeded in leaving no papertrail whatsoever amongst his "stuff". No bank account, no actual address (always used a post office box), if it wasn't a check it got trashed. We did find a birth certificate. He did know before they could bury you the dumb bureaucracy will indeed make absolutely sure you were born, ergo a birth certificate. Thanks Mikie.
Tracking his sister down has been an experiment in patience, and an enlightening experiance in knowing you can run, but you can't hide, on the Internet! But depite all the "bullshit" privacy rules and all that legal crap it's nice to know human beings still have compassion. And boy did I get good at working that today!
From the Police department 500 miles away that insisted they couldn't tell me anything, as the clerk sat in front of the computer screen with the complete police report on it about Mikie's brothers tragic death (Hit the back end of a parked bus at 60 mph.), back in 2003. BUT if I would send them a cashiers check for fifty cents they would be glad to mail me a copy, but they could not give out any information over the phone!
With an Academy Award performance of a whimpering fuss I was able to ply the full name of his brother from here and promised to get the check out today.
Next I went to the Registry of Records and found three documents for his brother, a death certificate, a homestead form, and a transfer deed. (Mikies brother was a special forces "he did'nt exist" dude so paperwork was also non existant. When Mikie went down to bury him in '03 and get a military burial he found his military service file and the majority of it was "blacked out" with security blocks on it. Mikie was proud of him, no matter where he had been or what he had done!) Back to the chase. As I sought each one I was confronted with a block indicating that the information was governed by the privacy act and could not be viewed on line, but that a written inquiry could be made. So again go find the humans and try and do the John Barrymore performance for them.
After a twelve button "automated menu" I got a human being. I explained my dilemma to the deaf ears of another County employee.
"Look mam, I don't want any of the information in the documents, trust me it's perfectly safe, I promise. All I want is the name of the attorney who filed them, and in advance I'm not going to sue him, simply ask him for my friends sister's telephone number."
"Well if you send us a cashiers check for one dollar and twenty-five cents we will be glad to send you a copy of the documents, sir."
"Mam, please let me explain this to you very slowly, and simply so you can understand my situation. Would you please allow me to do that, and I guarantee you it will take less than one minute of your time, in fact you can hang up on me if I'm lieing. May I?"
From the other end of the phne I heard a, "hmmph", so i continued.
"Mam, by buddy died, we didn't find him until two days after he died, the state required an autopsy to be performed, and they won;t release his body to anyone who is not next of kin. I'm trying to find his sister to let her know and if I can't get to her and let her know the probability is that his body will be thrown into "potter's field" and that's the end of it. We are his friends and we don't want that to happen, but if we can't find the attorney who has her name and number that's exactly what's oing to happen! How alone can you die, particularly when you have friends that want to take care of you, but legally have thier hands tied! Can you help?"
Another long pause and then, "The attorney who file these documents was "--------- and his telephone number is --------, I hope that helps you, it;s the best i can do."
"Thank you mam, you've been a big help,...and thank you very much from all Mikie's firends."
From there it got a little easier and after talking to the attorneys office they are now looking up the info and will get back to me tomorrow.
Now I've got to figure out how to deal with the sister and then take care of Mikie as well. I guess it's time to get an attorney involved.
Boy life was simpler in the old days!!
-30-
Many, many thanks to all of you who write, called, or otherwise expressed your thoughts on Mikie. We still have more to do before we can finally lay him to rest, (actually scatter his ashes over the Gulf of Mexico). Being in this legal world we all live in let me tell youit's a pain in the butt!!. I've finally tracked down the attorney who handled Mikie's brother's estate about four years ago, and he is looking through the old files to get Mikie's sister's telephone number for me. She is legally the next of kin.
Mikie's roommate and three of our friends went through his "stuff" Sunday, and even in death Mikie get's the last laugh. He has succeeded in leaving no papertrail whatsoever amongst his "stuff". No bank account, no actual address (always used a post office box), if it wasn't a check it got trashed. We did find a birth certificate. He did know before they could bury you the dumb bureaucracy will indeed make absolutely sure you were born, ergo a birth certificate. Thanks Mikie.
Tracking his sister down has been an experiment in patience, and an enlightening experiance in knowing you can run, but you can't hide, on the Internet! But depite all the "bullshit" privacy rules and all that legal crap it's nice to know human beings still have compassion. And boy did I get good at working that today!
From the Police department 500 miles away that insisted they couldn't tell me anything, as the clerk sat in front of the computer screen with the complete police report on it about Mikie's brothers tragic death (Hit the back end of a parked bus at 60 mph.), back in 2003. BUT if I would send them a cashiers check for fifty cents they would be glad to mail me a copy, but they could not give out any information over the phone!
With an Academy Award performance of a whimpering fuss I was able to ply the full name of his brother from here and promised to get the check out today.
Next I went to the Registry of Records and found three documents for his brother, a death certificate, a homestead form, and a transfer deed. (Mikies brother was a special forces "he did'nt exist" dude so paperwork was also non existant. When Mikie went down to bury him in '03 and get a military burial he found his military service file and the majority of it was "blacked out" with security blocks on it. Mikie was proud of him, no matter where he had been or what he had done!) Back to the chase. As I sought each one I was confronted with a block indicating that the information was governed by the privacy act and could not be viewed on line, but that a written inquiry could be made. So again go find the humans and try and do the John Barrymore performance for them.
After a twelve button "automated menu" I got a human being. I explained my dilemma to the deaf ears of another County employee.
"Look mam, I don't want any of the information in the documents, trust me it's perfectly safe, I promise. All I want is the name of the attorney who filed them, and in advance I'm not going to sue him, simply ask him for my friends sister's telephone number."
"Well if you send us a cashiers check for one dollar and twenty-five cents we will be glad to send you a copy of the documents, sir."
"Mam, please let me explain this to you very slowly, and simply so you can understand my situation. Would you please allow me to do that, and I guarantee you it will take less than one minute of your time, in fact you can hang up on me if I'm lieing. May I?"
From the other end of the phne I heard a, "hmmph", so i continued.
"Mam, by buddy died, we didn't find him until two days after he died, the state required an autopsy to be performed, and they won;t release his body to anyone who is not next of kin. I'm trying to find his sister to let her know and if I can't get to her and let her know the probability is that his body will be thrown into "potter's field" and that's the end of it. We are his friends and we don't want that to happen, but if we can't find the attorney who has her name and number that's exactly what's oing to happen! How alone can you die, particularly when you have friends that want to take care of you, but legally have thier hands tied! Can you help?"
Another long pause and then, "The attorney who file these documents was "--------- and his telephone number is --------, I hope that helps you, it;s the best i can do."
"Thank you mam, you've been a big help,...and thank you very much from all Mikie's firends."
From there it got a little easier and after talking to the attorneys office they are now looking up the info and will get back to me tomorrow.
Now I've got to figure out how to deal with the sister and then take care of Mikie as well. I guess it's time to get an attorney involved.
Boy life was simpler in the old days!!
-30-
Sunday, October 22, 2006
To all,... a humble thanks, ...from Mikie
The other night when I sat down to write a "journal of the day", and again when I wrote about Mikie, it was for me. Being a "tough ass Irish guy", whom emotions are not a "public side" of, I was sitting in my "pit", just me , the keyboard, and my memories. My intent and indeed my deep desire was to write to Mikie,...not you. To tell him what he meant to me, personally, and to open my own feelings to an "ether-world", not to write to you.
But a strange thing happened, a number of you read my entry, and wrote me very kind notes on it. And I must say I am so pleased I can not tell you. I used to mention my "blog" to Mikie, who gave me shit about it all the time. He used to tease me about it, and shoot a zippy one-liner every time he had a chance. He used to say things like, "Yeah, like you're a Hemingway, shit probably only perv's and whacko's do that shit!", and "Who really gives a shit what you think?". Occasionally he would give me crap about using the blog for "internet sex", and I'd tell him he was nuts,...a really dumb shit if he thought I was that "kind of person". He really knew how to push my buttons in terms of getting "my Irish" up. But by the same token he really knew me and knew that was not the fact, and every once in a while he'd ask, "You still writing that stupid 'blog" shit?"
When I e-mailed our buddy "Security Guard Mike" about Mikies passing I mentioned the blog so he could read the details for himself. My wife married him and his wife a couple years ago, Mikie was thier "adopted son". I can't count the times he and "Security Guard Mike" wrestled and played like brothers, and the number of times Mikie slept on thier couch becasue he couldn't move any further. But that was Mikie.
I guess my ramblings have come down to this. Mikie is gone. We all know it. We are all trying to get all the "shit" done so we can take care of him. I've had at least twenty-five people call or write and tell me they will take a "piece of the action" for whatever it takes to give Mikie a send-off even he'd blush and be "Irish" about (self deprecating, humble, and totally overwhelmed). So here's the plan.
I talked to Vince, his roomy, today, and Mikie, true to being Mikie, left no history, no papers, not follow-up "stuff". He left this world just like he came in, quiet, and alone. So I've set the deadlines, (NO PUN INTENDED) , if I can not find his sister and talk to her by Wednesday, I'm going to have a buddy, who is an attorney, to whatever the shit has to be done to make me his "next of kin". I've already contacted the National Cremation Society and for a price, they will pick up his remains, take them and have them cremated, return the death certificate and Mikie's ashes to us (i.e. me as legally responsible for him). I will set a date in the next two weeks and ask everyone who loved him to join us at "The Whales Tail", and we will all spend a moment in silence, and then I'll ask each person to silently scatter some of Mikie's ashes into the surf, along the beach , or into the air. (The Whales Tale is a beach bar, right on the Gulf of Mexico where Mikie spent untolled hours just relaxing, talking with locals, tourists, and anyone else who happened by.) I would then ask everyone to have a shot of Samboucca and salute our friend who is now amongst the stars. End of service, end of ceremony. Go home, take your memories of Mikie, and miss him the way we all will.
I went to the Florida State/Boston College football game yesterday and I took the other love of my life, my wife Barbara. Mikie was supposed to go with me.
We watched the game, and the final play of the game where a Boston College player reached up into the air, amidst a sea of other players and snagged the ball, with one hand, and tucked it in as the play clock hit "zero". One arm out of about twenty in that pile of players. The first win for Boston College, Mikies own home town, over Florida State University, bragging rights for the "guys from New England" for the next year!
If I were a supersticious dude, I'd really wonder if Mikie did not have a "hand" in it,....telling us he's ok, he's gone beyond, he misses us as we him, but the world goes on, even without him.
Thanks Mikie, we appreciate the win, we appreciate the "final word" from the other side".
God bless you , and love you, ... for he sure knows we did!
-30-
But a strange thing happened, a number of you read my entry, and wrote me very kind notes on it. And I must say I am so pleased I can not tell you. I used to mention my "blog" to Mikie, who gave me shit about it all the time. He used to tease me about it, and shoot a zippy one-liner every time he had a chance. He used to say things like, "Yeah, like you're a Hemingway, shit probably only perv's and whacko's do that shit!", and "Who really gives a shit what you think?". Occasionally he would give me crap about using the blog for "internet sex", and I'd tell him he was nuts,...a really dumb shit if he thought I was that "kind of person". He really knew how to push my buttons in terms of getting "my Irish" up. But by the same token he really knew me and knew that was not the fact, and every once in a while he'd ask, "You still writing that stupid 'blog" shit?"
When I e-mailed our buddy "Security Guard Mike" about Mikies passing I mentioned the blog so he could read the details for himself. My wife married him and his wife a couple years ago, Mikie was thier "adopted son". I can't count the times he and "Security Guard Mike" wrestled and played like brothers, and the number of times Mikie slept on thier couch becasue he couldn't move any further. But that was Mikie.
I guess my ramblings have come down to this. Mikie is gone. We all know it. We are all trying to get all the "shit" done so we can take care of him. I've had at least twenty-five people call or write and tell me they will take a "piece of the action" for whatever it takes to give Mikie a send-off even he'd blush and be "Irish" about (self deprecating, humble, and totally overwhelmed). So here's the plan.
I talked to Vince, his roomy, today, and Mikie, true to being Mikie, left no history, no papers, not follow-up "stuff". He left this world just like he came in, quiet, and alone. So I've set the deadlines, (NO PUN INTENDED) , if I can not find his sister and talk to her by Wednesday, I'm going to have a buddy, who is an attorney, to whatever the shit has to be done to make me his "next of kin". I've already contacted the National Cremation Society and for a price, they will pick up his remains, take them and have them cremated, return the death certificate and Mikie's ashes to us (i.e. me as legally responsible for him). I will set a date in the next two weeks and ask everyone who loved him to join us at "The Whales Tail", and we will all spend a moment in silence, and then I'll ask each person to silently scatter some of Mikie's ashes into the surf, along the beach , or into the air. (The Whales Tale is a beach bar, right on the Gulf of Mexico where Mikie spent untolled hours just relaxing, talking with locals, tourists, and anyone else who happened by.) I would then ask everyone to have a shot of Samboucca and salute our friend who is now amongst the stars. End of service, end of ceremony. Go home, take your memories of Mikie, and miss him the way we all will.
I went to the Florida State/Boston College football game yesterday and I took the other love of my life, my wife Barbara. Mikie was supposed to go with me.
We watched the game, and the final play of the game where a Boston College player reached up into the air, amidst a sea of other players and snagged the ball, with one hand, and tucked it in as the play clock hit "zero". One arm out of about twenty in that pile of players. The first win for Boston College, Mikies own home town, over Florida State University, bragging rights for the "guys from New England" for the next year!
If I were a supersticious dude, I'd really wonder if Mikie did not have a "hand" in it,....telling us he's ok, he's gone beyond, he misses us as we him, but the world goes on, even without him.
Thanks Mikie, we appreciate the win, we appreciate the "final word" from the other side".
God bless you , and love you, ... for he sure knows we did!
-30-
Friday, October 20, 2006
And life goes on,....
Ok I've accepted Mikie is gone, now let's clean it up! (The following can be somewhat graphic, but frankly at my age, it's mere reality, and I HAVE to accept it!)
As I told you yesterday, I think, the forensic investigator told us the entire bedroom in which Mikie was found needed to be "mitigated" by a crime scene clean-up team. He was kind enough top give me a few names and numbers.
REALITY FACT #1 - It ain't like the movies folks! Regardless of what you see on TV, when you die your muscles ALL relax. "Bodily fluids" abound! Enough said.
The fact that Mikie had been dead for two days compounded the problem. The "mitigation" people came out this morning (we were warned to simply close off the room he was in when he died, turn the Air Conditioning down to 60 degrees, and wait for the mitigation people.) At $170 dollars an hour, and four hours later, the "scene" was declared "inhabitable". Both Vince , his "roomy" and I have no desire to even enter the room until at least Sunday. The "mitigation specialist" threw out half his computer system, (keyboard, printer, connecting cables, etc.) the table and chairs it sat on, and ripped out the carpet in the room and threw it as well.
REALITY FACT # 2 - Legality is pure SHIT! I called the ME (Medicaol Examiner's) Office and asked if they could tell me anything, like what would happen top Mikie's body, was the autopsy complete, what was the cause of death, all the usual. The answers, "Yes the autopsy is complete (my stomach is queasy), but NO we can not tell you what the cause of death was unless you are next of kin. "Shit lady, he was my buddy for eight years we had beers at least three times a week, we worked together on jobs and helped each other, I hired him and gave him work for three years, if that's not "kin" what is?"
"I'm sorry sir, only a blood relative is "kin" as you say it."
REALITY FACT #3 - Friends are friends,....forever, and then some! Vince, his "roomy" fouind an uncashed check for work he had done for a friend, I found a check he hadn't picked up yet at my company, and we "conspired". The big check Vince found was from a buddy who Mikie worked for. We called him and we burned that check at the Pub this afternoon. He in turn wrote a check for the "Bio-hazard Mitigation", in full, and threww a few hundred more into "the fund".
I'll probably forge Mikie's name and cash the check from my form and it too will go into "the fund".
The "inner circle", Mikie's real friends met agian this afternoon, and we've committed to do what ever we have to to gain legal control of Mikie's remains, we've rounded up more than $1,300 to have him cremated, and we will organize, orchestrate, and have a full service for Mikie.
The plans are now to set a date, tell all his friends far and wide to come, go down to the Gulf of Mexico on the white sands Mikie loved and hung out on, say absolutely nothing, but think of the Mikie we each knew and loved so much, and then set his ashes free in the breeze to swim in the emerald waters, lounge on the sands and watch the "eye candy" (gorgeous young women in bikini's), or just become "one with the air that supports us" , it's Mikie's call.
I'm going to the Florida State/Boston College football game tomorrow, and I'm taking my wife instead of Mikie. Why? Because I can't think of anyone I love more than Mikie, than Barbara. To go anywhere with someone you love is always more better than anything else.
She misses Mikie as well. We used to invite him over for Christmas, Thanksgiving, and any other time we could. He loved her cooking, flattered her to a fare thee well everytime he was here, and never left empty-handed. I will set aplace for him this season, what else are friends for?
-30-
As I told you yesterday, I think, the forensic investigator told us the entire bedroom in which Mikie was found needed to be "mitigated" by a crime scene clean-up team. He was kind enough top give me a few names and numbers.
REALITY FACT #1 - It ain't like the movies folks! Regardless of what you see on TV, when you die your muscles ALL relax. "Bodily fluids" abound! Enough said.
The fact that Mikie had been dead for two days compounded the problem. The "mitigation" people came out this morning (we were warned to simply close off the room he was in when he died, turn the Air Conditioning down to 60 degrees, and wait for the mitigation people.) At $170 dollars an hour, and four hours later, the "scene" was declared "inhabitable". Both Vince , his "roomy" and I have no desire to even enter the room until at least Sunday. The "mitigation specialist" threw out half his computer system, (keyboard, printer, connecting cables, etc.) the table and chairs it sat on, and ripped out the carpet in the room and threw it as well.
REALITY FACT # 2 - Legality is pure SHIT! I called the ME (Medicaol Examiner's) Office and asked if they could tell me anything, like what would happen top Mikie's body, was the autopsy complete, what was the cause of death, all the usual. The answers, "Yes the autopsy is complete (my stomach is queasy), but NO we can not tell you what the cause of death was unless you are next of kin. "Shit lady, he was my buddy for eight years we had beers at least three times a week, we worked together on jobs and helped each other, I hired him and gave him work for three years, if that's not "kin" what is?"
"I'm sorry sir, only a blood relative is "kin" as you say it."
REALITY FACT #3 - Friends are friends,....forever, and then some! Vince, his "roomy" fouind an uncashed check for work he had done for a friend, I found a check he hadn't picked up yet at my company, and we "conspired". The big check Vince found was from a buddy who Mikie worked for. We called him and we burned that check at the Pub this afternoon. He in turn wrote a check for the "Bio-hazard Mitigation", in full, and threww a few hundred more into "the fund".
I'll probably forge Mikie's name and cash the check from my form and it too will go into "the fund".
The "inner circle", Mikie's real friends met agian this afternoon, and we've committed to do what ever we have to to gain legal control of Mikie's remains, we've rounded up more than $1,300 to have him cremated, and we will organize, orchestrate, and have a full service for Mikie.
The plans are now to set a date, tell all his friends far and wide to come, go down to the Gulf of Mexico on the white sands Mikie loved and hung out on, say absolutely nothing, but think of the Mikie we each knew and loved so much, and then set his ashes free in the breeze to swim in the emerald waters, lounge on the sands and watch the "eye candy" (gorgeous young women in bikini's), or just become "one with the air that supports us" , it's Mikie's call.
I'm going to the Florida State/Boston College football game tomorrow, and I'm taking my wife instead of Mikie. Why? Because I can't think of anyone I love more than Mikie, than Barbara. To go anywhere with someone you love is always more better than anything else.
She misses Mikie as well. We used to invite him over for Christmas, Thanksgiving, and any other time we could. He loved her cooking, flattered her to a fare thee well everytime he was here, and never left empty-handed. I will set aplace for him this season, what else are friends for?
-30-
Thursday, October 19, 2006
I don't want to write this,...but I have too!
If you can't stand reality, click out now. You have been warned!!
This morning Thursday October 19th, was like every other morning for me, I got up, showered, shaved. got dressed and headed out to one of my accounts where we were beginning a $500,000 renovation project. I drove the thirty two miles to the site thinking about my other accounts and other business. My mind drifted a bit, and I thought about the Florida State University football game against my favorite team Boston College this coming Saturday, and the fun I was going to have. I had invited my friend and "buddy" Mikie Riordan to go with me. We'd have to leave at 8 a.m. to get there by game time and be in the stands. I'd scored two tickets at mid-field halfway up, the best seats in the stadium of 100,000 from a business contact. FSU is really bad this year and B.C. is good. I was relishing the two guys from "Bean town" swaggering out at the end of the game knowing how good Boston College was, and being glad our team won. Mikie and I are both from Boston, and when I scored the tickets I couldn't think of anyone who I'd enjoy going to the game more with, and who would enjoy "bragging rights"...and then my cell phone rang.
"Tom here, who's this?"
"Tom, it's Vince (My friend Mikie's room-mate). Mikie's dead."
" Hey Vince, you're shitting me, right?"
" No,...I hadn't heard from in two days and it bothered me, so I knocked on his door and he did'nt answer, so I went in and he was slumped over his computer. I shook him but he didn't respond and he was as cold as a rock,...so I just called the Sheriff. Can you come over?"
"I'm about a half an hour away Vince, but I'm on my way."
About thirty minutes later I go there, and was painfully aware o fht etwo ploice cruisers and the obviously unmarked police car pulled up in front of Mikie's apartment.
"Oh Shit, this can't be happening!" I remember thinking, as Mikie and I were sharing beers at our local Pub, Buster's on Sunday afternoon.
I had tried to call him Monday and thought he might be doing some work for a mutual friend about forty miles away in an area where cell phone contact was "scetchy". I had given his cell phone number to another tradesman to call on Tuesday to see about some work Mikie had been willing to show him about. I tried to call him yesterday to see if they had "hooked up", but again no answer.
For those of you who have followed my blog I've introduced you to Mikie. The last of the original "hippies" from the 60's. My "bud", or mate, a guy who would go anywhere and do anything for you even if you never asked.
As I got out of my car Mikie's old room mate Janey ran over to me, sobbing her eyes out and threw her arms around me, sobbing. I knew at that moment, Mikie was not "of this earth" anymore.
Everything moved to second place at that instant,...Mikie became number one!
The Sheriff's department investigator came out and saw me holding and comforting Janey and asked if I knew "the deceased". I answered "Yeah, he's my buddy,...is it true?"
He nodded his head, and said, "I'm sorry."
I won't fill the next umty-ump pages with memories and such, ...but suffice it to say it was a BITCH of a day from there on out.
Everyone looked to me as "the strong one", and I guess I am. I talked to the Sheriff's investigators, the Medical examiner, the Sheriff's deputy assigned, I consoled the girl's who lived next door and knew Mikie, I hugged his "roomy", I gathered info, and I "hung in there".
Mikie loved hanging out at our local Pub, Buster's, as did I. My cell phone started ringing as word got around, "What can we do?, What happened? Is it true?" All for "my buddy",...I'm in schock!
A voice "popped" into my mind, and I begin telling everyone, "Look, It's still unfolding, and I'm doing what I can, but I'll be at Buster's this afternoon at four p.m. and I'll share whatever we know with any of you, thanks for calling.
The day wore on, Mikie was slumped over his computer, his bottle of nitroglygerin two inches from his hand and untouched, no sign of struggle, extreme pain, etc. According to the investigator, "he went quick and painless". For that I'm thankful.
I stayed until the Medical Examiner came and pronounced him dead, and then the van came and they took his body away in a plastic bag to the coroner's office.
The 'investigator" told me he appeared to have passed away at least two days ago. And under Florida law an unattended death would require an autopsy.
Time blurs!!! Sure I've seen CSI, Grey's Anatomy, House, etc., but this was Mikie, my buddy, my friend, my alter-ego in life! DEAD!
At four o'clock I went to the pub, ordered a Guinness, and sat, thinking of Mikie. By 4:10 there were over forty people there. All friends of Mikie!! We talked, we drank, we hugged, we shared stories of Mikie. We laughed, we teared up, and we remembered.
Mikie we miss you, and we all loved you, and we will take care of you.
I'm trying to find your sister from the internet as I write. We love you, and we miss you, but I will vow that you will be remembered by all of us, and we will see that you end up at "The Whale's Tail" to watch all the eye candy on the beach.
Miss you already!
-30-
This morning Thursday October 19th, was like every other morning for me, I got up, showered, shaved. got dressed and headed out to one of my accounts where we were beginning a $500,000 renovation project. I drove the thirty two miles to the site thinking about my other accounts and other business. My mind drifted a bit, and I thought about the Florida State University football game against my favorite team Boston College this coming Saturday, and the fun I was going to have. I had invited my friend and "buddy" Mikie Riordan to go with me. We'd have to leave at 8 a.m. to get there by game time and be in the stands. I'd scored two tickets at mid-field halfway up, the best seats in the stadium of 100,000 from a business contact. FSU is really bad this year and B.C. is good. I was relishing the two guys from "Bean town" swaggering out at the end of the game knowing how good Boston College was, and being glad our team won. Mikie and I are both from Boston, and when I scored the tickets I couldn't think of anyone who I'd enjoy going to the game more with, and who would enjoy "bragging rights"...and then my cell phone rang.
"Tom here, who's this?"
"Tom, it's Vince (My friend Mikie's room-mate). Mikie's dead."
" Hey Vince, you're shitting me, right?"
" No,...I hadn't heard from in two days and it bothered me, so I knocked on his door and he did'nt answer, so I went in and he was slumped over his computer. I shook him but he didn't respond and he was as cold as a rock,...so I just called the Sheriff. Can you come over?"
"I'm about a half an hour away Vince, but I'm on my way."
About thirty minutes later I go there, and was painfully aware o fht etwo ploice cruisers and the obviously unmarked police car pulled up in front of Mikie's apartment.
"Oh Shit, this can't be happening!" I remember thinking, as Mikie and I were sharing beers at our local Pub, Buster's on Sunday afternoon.
I had tried to call him Monday and thought he might be doing some work for a mutual friend about forty miles away in an area where cell phone contact was "scetchy". I had given his cell phone number to another tradesman to call on Tuesday to see about some work Mikie had been willing to show him about. I tried to call him yesterday to see if they had "hooked up", but again no answer.
For those of you who have followed my blog I've introduced you to Mikie. The last of the original "hippies" from the 60's. My "bud", or mate, a guy who would go anywhere and do anything for you even if you never asked.
As I got out of my car Mikie's old room mate Janey ran over to me, sobbing her eyes out and threw her arms around me, sobbing. I knew at that moment, Mikie was not "of this earth" anymore.
Everything moved to second place at that instant,...Mikie became number one!
The Sheriff's department investigator came out and saw me holding and comforting Janey and asked if I knew "the deceased". I answered "Yeah, he's my buddy,...is it true?"
He nodded his head, and said, "I'm sorry."
I won't fill the next umty-ump pages with memories and such, ...but suffice it to say it was a BITCH of a day from there on out.
Everyone looked to me as "the strong one", and I guess I am. I talked to the Sheriff's investigators, the Medical examiner, the Sheriff's deputy assigned, I consoled the girl's who lived next door and knew Mikie, I hugged his "roomy", I gathered info, and I "hung in there".
Mikie loved hanging out at our local Pub, Buster's, as did I. My cell phone started ringing as word got around, "What can we do?, What happened? Is it true?" All for "my buddy",...I'm in schock!
A voice "popped" into my mind, and I begin telling everyone, "Look, It's still unfolding, and I'm doing what I can, but I'll be at Buster's this afternoon at four p.m. and I'll share whatever we know with any of you, thanks for calling.
The day wore on, Mikie was slumped over his computer, his bottle of nitroglygerin two inches from his hand and untouched, no sign of struggle, extreme pain, etc. According to the investigator, "he went quick and painless". For that I'm thankful.
I stayed until the Medical Examiner came and pronounced him dead, and then the van came and they took his body away in a plastic bag to the coroner's office.
The 'investigator" told me he appeared to have passed away at least two days ago. And under Florida law an unattended death would require an autopsy.
Time blurs!!! Sure I've seen CSI, Grey's Anatomy, House, etc., but this was Mikie, my buddy, my friend, my alter-ego in life! DEAD!
At four o'clock I went to the pub, ordered a Guinness, and sat, thinking of Mikie. By 4:10 there were over forty people there. All friends of Mikie!! We talked, we drank, we hugged, we shared stories of Mikie. We laughed, we teared up, and we remembered.
Mikie we miss you, and we all loved you, and we will take care of you.
I'm trying to find your sister from the internet as I write. We love you, and we miss you, but I will vow that you will be remembered by all of us, and we will see that you end up at "The Whale's Tail" to watch all the eye candy on the beach.
Miss you already!
-30-
Monday, October 16, 2006
Feets don't fail me now!!
It's Monday evening, on the one hand my last night of "freedom" (Miss Barbara, truly my better half, is coming home tomorrow after almost two weeks away on business!). I went to the Pub, had three pints, ran into an old friend from Nashville who wrote "Tequila makes your clothes fall off!", had a good time, called our friend Doug in North Carolina and told him this guy came all the way here to see him, and he had the "cajones" to move to North Carolina and this guy was strangling me!! (All in good fun!)
Anyhow, came home finished the Chinese from Saturday night, killed the last glass of Shiraz in the bottle ("Would you care for another bottle sir?" Twenty seconds of thoughtful meditation, and "Does a bear shit in the woods?")
Checked my favorite blogs, all my "blogger buddies"are in good shape, wrote a couple of quick replies, and now it's my turn to comment.
Questions for the "blog world":
Is there really a God?
For being faithful to my true love for forty years, will I be happy when I have to "check out"?
How can I ever explain the magnitude of true love to anyone?
Ok, so I miss my wife. But when I called her this morning on the cell, she answered "Hi Honey, I love you to pieces!" instead of "Hello?"
Men are as strange as women, we just get all "macho" about it. Now twenty years ago I never would have even admitted I missed her. I would have been one of the guys in the pub saying, "Did you check out the rack on the one that just came in?", or "Oh baby, come to Daddy."
So what's different now, albeit thirty years later?
First of all if a "10" approached me, flashed me, groped me, and other wise "encouraged me" to move to "the next level",....I'd probably be on a respirator with umpty-ump cc's of epheneferine being pumped into me! Would a fantastic F*** with a 10+ be a "once in a life time" experiance, not to mention a HUGE thrill? Of course it would,...but the rest of my life I would have to live with it! Trading a 10+ night of great sex, every way I could imagine and some I could never even dream of, for God only knows how many nights of knowing I , no not you, but "I" betrayed my vows to you! Even I can't rationalize that!!
Ok, so I'm an old fart, but by God the woman I love is the woman I love,....forever!
I personally like the simplicity of one man, one woman...til death do you part.
Now that's just me. Could I fantasize about me and Cindy Crawford (sorry kid's,... look her up in google, she was definately a "hottie" in my time.), or me and Racquel Welch? Sure I can, but it's not the fantasy, it's the reality that makes the difference. Would I trade my love and faithfulness for it,...NEVER. And I would be sure that my "wife" would not trade "Fabio" or some such "tight butt, great pec's. rock ab's "dude" for fifteen minutes of the big "O" for cuddling up with me at three a.m., monday thru sunday, and the depth of knowing what love is all about.
As you can tell from this, there will be NO blog tomorrow evening, as I will be "otherwise occupied" until at least Thursday!
Sorry if this is "soupy" , but I'm really comfortable being "me" and loving "her"(24/7). My wish for the world would be that every single one of you could find and know the love I have for "my friend", ...my wife.
-30-
Anyhow, came home finished the Chinese from Saturday night, killed the last glass of Shiraz in the bottle ("Would you care for another bottle sir?" Twenty seconds of thoughtful meditation, and "Does a bear shit in the woods?")
Checked my favorite blogs, all my "blogger buddies"are in good shape, wrote a couple of quick replies, and now it's my turn to comment.
Questions for the "blog world":
Is there really a God?
For being faithful to my true love for forty years, will I be happy when I have to "check out"?
How can I ever explain the magnitude of true love to anyone?
Ok, so I miss my wife. But when I called her this morning on the cell, she answered "Hi Honey, I love you to pieces!" instead of "Hello?"
Men are as strange as women, we just get all "macho" about it. Now twenty years ago I never would have even admitted I missed her. I would have been one of the guys in the pub saying, "Did you check out the rack on the one that just came in?", or "Oh baby, come to Daddy."
So what's different now, albeit thirty years later?
First of all if a "10" approached me, flashed me, groped me, and other wise "encouraged me" to move to "the next level",....I'd probably be on a respirator with umpty-ump cc's of epheneferine being pumped into me! Would a fantastic F*** with a 10+ be a "once in a life time" experiance, not to mention a HUGE thrill? Of course it would,...but the rest of my life I would have to live with it! Trading a 10+ night of great sex, every way I could imagine and some I could never even dream of, for God only knows how many nights of knowing I , no not you, but "I" betrayed my vows to you! Even I can't rationalize that!!
Ok, so I'm an old fart, but by God the woman I love is the woman I love,....forever!
I personally like the simplicity of one man, one woman...til death do you part.
Now that's just me. Could I fantasize about me and Cindy Crawford (sorry kid's,... look her up in google, she was definately a "hottie" in my time.), or me and Racquel Welch? Sure I can, but it's not the fantasy, it's the reality that makes the difference. Would I trade my love and faithfulness for it,...NEVER. And I would be sure that my "wife" would not trade "Fabio" or some such "tight butt, great pec's. rock ab's "dude" for fifteen minutes of the big "O" for cuddling up with me at three a.m., monday thru sunday, and the depth of knowing what love is all about.
As you can tell from this, there will be NO blog tomorrow evening, as I will be "otherwise occupied" until at least Thursday!
Sorry if this is "soupy" , but I'm really comfortable being "me" and loving "her"(24/7). My wish for the world would be that every single one of you could find and know the love I have for "my friend", ...my wife.
-30-
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Ready for the weekend!
Fall is coming to Florida. I was actually a little chilly this morning for a meeting I had to attend for my job. Infact the first thing I did when I went into the room was go straight to the thermostat and turn the temerature up to 72 degrees(F.)
I'm home now,(Duh!! Where else would you be if you're blogging stupid!) It's about 1 iin the afternoon and I'm fighting the temptation to go to the Pub and watch a football game (it's not a question of if I go, but when!) I've got another short meeting around three or four o'clock and I'd rather do that meeting and then go to the pub. Tomorrow is "Crash Program Day" you know, whip the house into line for the wife's homecoming tuesday, sand blast the dishes in the sink, time the washer, dryer, and vacuuming so everything gets completed at once. Drag a wastebasket into the living room and sort out the mail, oh yeah, water the plants so they will stand up again and stop floppy all over the floor around the pot. (I never notice them until it's almost too late)
I started thinking about food just now, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do for supper, in fact I don't really have much of an appetitte right now anyway, so why was I thinking about food in the first place? Maybe I'll take a ride to the mall and poke around a bit and see what's new.
OH, ok , I just remembered what I was going to write about (another example of the dreaded new disease affecting our senior population,...CRS syndrome. It is a real hard thing getting old and having your spouse see the early signs of CRS forming, and even trying to discuss it with you,...but CRS can be very dibilitating, to the point of not even wanting to talk about it.
Jezzy, don't bother with the books, and forget the medical journals, and no you didn't miss that in school. Got your attention now? My wife discovered this ailment and actually named it. The layman's translation is Can't Remember Shit,.....gotcha!
Back to a lucid moment.
On my desk when she left for Boston, my wife laid a couple of pictures off the internet of ring settings with a little "baggie" withher engagement ring in it and a note on it saying "T. Don't lose the ring! B." Being smarter than the average bear it only took a couple of days for me to figure out she wanted her ring reset into something like in the pictures. (And she's like trusting ME to pick out the setting and all! ...now that is real trust!)
So off I go one morning this week when work reached the "escape valve needed" level, to the local jewelers. I explain my plight and he proceeds to dig out about a zillion catalogues of ring settings! It was at that point I did the honorable, manly thing.
"Look Mr. Jeweler, don't waste your time, or mine with these, because my taste has been surgically re-attached to my foot. You got the pictures, just get me close!"
" Well sir there are so many variations, and the size and clarity of the stone, and the need to potentially balace the setting with bagettes. (Ah, I know this one, roughly translated it means "I'm going to bagette you for another couple of hundred bucks by implying the microscopic size of the diamond you are resetting needs to be enhanced so you don't look like a cheap wanker").
Fortunately my Blackberry alerted me to an incoming e-mail, so I turned to him and said, "Look get a couple of setting things close to these pictures, I have to deal with this incoming"
I politely walked to the other end of his shop, stared intently at my Blackberry like this was a real serious thing (actually an offer for a shitty little piece of software for $19.99, as a "valued customer") after a few minutes I noticed he finally started to mark a couple of pages in one of the catalogues, so I went back over and said, "What do have?"
"Well I came across three that might do the trick so far."
"Listen that e-mail I recieved I'm really pressed for time so three is as good as it's going to get,...show me please."
"Well sir the first one is a little 'bolder' and I really...."
"That's good let's do it, here's my credit card, when can I pick it up?"
"But the other two sir,.."
"No need, I believe you go with your first instinct, and besides if you are any good in sales you are giving me your best shot, then going to show me a bunch more and be sure to comment negatively on everyone of them to circle us back around to this one, so let's just do it and be done, OK?"
"Are you sure sir, I mean perhaps your wife could come in and look at the settings to see if she..."
"No way, I'm sure you'd start her out at least $500 higher and load up on the bagettes. Nope, I'll take that one."
Two minutes later I'm back in the car tooling up the road with his promise to call me when it is ready, but being sure to let me know he had to order the setting, and then perhaps re-size it to fit her, and maybe have to make a few other adjustments, etc.etc.etc.
Guess what, the next day, less than 24 hours even, RING, RING.
"Your ring is ready sir"
(So where is all the ordering nonsense, and the "adjustments"?)
Made him wait another day and then dropped in to pick it up. Of course the entire staff , all three of them, had been briefed to be sure and oooh, and aaah as the jeweler showed me his handiwork, and then the obligatory comments of "Oh that is so pretty sir" and the "my wife would just love that, it's so exquisite"
Do I sound a little cynical? Naw, but guess what? My Christmas shopping is done, it's the regular usual stuff from here on out. I don't have to agonize over that "special" Christmas presentfor her.
Off to the races.
-30-
I'm home now,(Duh!! Where else would you be if you're blogging stupid!) It's about 1 iin the afternoon and I'm fighting the temptation to go to the Pub and watch a football game (it's not a question of if I go, but when!) I've got another short meeting around three or four o'clock and I'd rather do that meeting and then go to the pub. Tomorrow is "Crash Program Day" you know, whip the house into line for the wife's homecoming tuesday, sand blast the dishes in the sink, time the washer, dryer, and vacuuming so everything gets completed at once. Drag a wastebasket into the living room and sort out the mail, oh yeah, water the plants so they will stand up again and stop floppy all over the floor around the pot. (I never notice them until it's almost too late)
I started thinking about food just now, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do for supper, in fact I don't really have much of an appetitte right now anyway, so why was I thinking about food in the first place? Maybe I'll take a ride to the mall and poke around a bit and see what's new.
OH, ok , I just remembered what I was going to write about (another example of the dreaded new disease affecting our senior population,...CRS syndrome. It is a real hard thing getting old and having your spouse see the early signs of CRS forming, and even trying to discuss it with you,...but CRS can be very dibilitating, to the point of not even wanting to talk about it.
Jezzy, don't bother with the books, and forget the medical journals, and no you didn't miss that in school. Got your attention now? My wife discovered this ailment and actually named it. The layman's translation is Can't Remember Shit,.....gotcha!
Back to a lucid moment.
On my desk when she left for Boston, my wife laid a couple of pictures off the internet of ring settings with a little "baggie" withher engagement ring in it and a note on it saying "T. Don't lose the ring! B." Being smarter than the average bear it only took a couple of days for me to figure out she wanted her ring reset into something like in the pictures. (And she's like trusting ME to pick out the setting and all! ...now that is real trust!)
So off I go one morning this week when work reached the "escape valve needed" level, to the local jewelers. I explain my plight and he proceeds to dig out about a zillion catalogues of ring settings! It was at that point I did the honorable, manly thing.
"Look Mr. Jeweler, don't waste your time, or mine with these, because my taste has been surgically re-attached to my foot. You got the pictures, just get me close!"
" Well sir there are so many variations, and the size and clarity of the stone, and the need to potentially balace the setting with bagettes. (Ah, I know this one, roughly translated it means "I'm going to bagette you for another couple of hundred bucks by implying the microscopic size of the diamond you are resetting needs to be enhanced so you don't look like a cheap wanker").
Fortunately my Blackberry alerted me to an incoming e-mail, so I turned to him and said, "Look get a couple of setting things close to these pictures, I have to deal with this incoming"
I politely walked to the other end of his shop, stared intently at my Blackberry like this was a real serious thing (actually an offer for a shitty little piece of software for $19.99, as a "valued customer") after a few minutes I noticed he finally started to mark a couple of pages in one of the catalogues, so I went back over and said, "What do have?"
"Well I came across three that might do the trick so far."
"Listen that e-mail I recieved I'm really pressed for time so three is as good as it's going to get,...show me please."
"Well sir the first one is a little 'bolder' and I really...."
"That's good let's do it, here's my credit card, when can I pick it up?"
"But the other two sir,.."
"No need, I believe you go with your first instinct, and besides if you are any good in sales you are giving me your best shot, then going to show me a bunch more and be sure to comment negatively on everyone of them to circle us back around to this one, so let's just do it and be done, OK?"
"Are you sure sir, I mean perhaps your wife could come in and look at the settings to see if she..."
"No way, I'm sure you'd start her out at least $500 higher and load up on the bagettes. Nope, I'll take that one."
Two minutes later I'm back in the car tooling up the road with his promise to call me when it is ready, but being sure to let me know he had to order the setting, and then perhaps re-size it to fit her, and maybe have to make a few other adjustments, etc.etc.etc.
Guess what, the next day, less than 24 hours even, RING, RING.
"Your ring is ready sir"
(So where is all the ordering nonsense, and the "adjustments"?)
Made him wait another day and then dropped in to pick it up. Of course the entire staff , all three of them, had been briefed to be sure and oooh, and aaah as the jeweler showed me his handiwork, and then the obligatory comments of "Oh that is so pretty sir" and the "my wife would just love that, it's so exquisite"
Do I sound a little cynical? Naw, but guess what? My Christmas shopping is done, it's the regular usual stuff from here on out. I don't have to agonize over that "special" Christmas presentfor her.
Off to the races.
-30-
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Whoa!!! I'm doing this technical shit again!!
trying to "crossover" to the new beta blogspot so I can play with pix's, (at the same time uploading the new Microsoft Office '07 (beta) on my laptop, petting my cat (who feels particularly in need of love today), making up my list of "stuff" from the Office Supply store a little later, getting ready to shut everything down and watch my New England Patriots game at the Pub, and otherwise "relaxxing"!
Maybe I'll write again this evening.
Mr. G.
Maybe I'll write again this evening.
Mr. G.
Friday, October 06, 2006
This has to be immoral, illegal, or fattening!!!
Friday night, the missus is about 1500 miles away in Boston (yeah, the tea party town!) on business for two weeks. My diet for the past two days has been 1 absolutely drop dead, to kill for, chocolate donut with chocolate frosting, a "fried egg sandwich" (it's a Southern U.S. thing, a fried egg (hard yolk), a slice or two of spicy breakfast sausage. a slab of cheese (above and below), two slices of regular, un-healthy white bread (grilled like a grilled cheese), you take it, tear it apart, put VERY generous slathers of Mayonaisse on it, and ....VOILA!, a breakfast meal to jump start you entire body! Listen to those artieries closing, the sound of the cholesterol cranking up there with every bite, and GOD, when you liberally apply salt to both sides of the bread before consuming,.....this is what an oral orgasm is all about!!
(Sorry, I got carried away. :( )
This afternoon I had a meeting with a client until noon, she suggested lunch at a fantastic sort of Parisean Cafe place called the "Smiling Fish". Grilled Yellowfin Tuna, an herbal mayo, with the "don't eat them or you'll die!" french fries, and then another meeting, and then my "crew" and a couple pints of Guinness at Buster's. (Ain't life grand!!)
Now I'm home, re-heated a culinary "piece d'resistance"from the other nights left-overs ,... fried spam, white American cheese, plain old white bread, God life is good!!
(Sorry again, if you are not hanging over the "porcelien god" wretching from my all to "shitty" descriptions, then you are a "soul-brother" of flat out "comfort food".
OK, so a bit over the top, but now I'm here at my keyboard,(you can tell from the mispellings) with my second "goblet" of a delicate Shiraz from "down under" called Jacob's Creek Reserve, sharing my inner soul with you!
Sure I'm going on 62, sure I've got a "Guinness prothesis" that announces my arrival and lost me the role of Fabio's "body double", but all that's in my "drug drawer" is Vitamin C, Vitamin B complex, a 200mg Milkthistle tablet(take good care of your liver, you only have 1), and a "baby aspirin" (81 mg.). Like I'm preaching to everyone, "Guinness is the second coming of penacillin"!
Ok, serious aside. Ready?
Mr. Guinness's philosophy on health and longevity:
God is definately no "Idiot", look around you, he did it all in a few days!
God is no "bad guy", what point would be in that ?
God KNEW we, the humanoids, would work extra hard to fuck up what he put out there for all of us.
God put a solution out there for everything, we just have to find it.
And on the afternoon of the seventh day God said, "Who's got the Guinness?"
(No disrespect intended, but dump the freakin' "perscription" solutions, forget the "over the counter" cures, put a stop payment on the last check fro you're personal "psychic", and go have a few pints of God's nectar, Vitamin "G", the "ultimate solution" for health,....have a pint of Guinness. (Don't believe me? A good friend saw an interview with Brooke Sheilds, and she was extolling the merits of Guinness for thier newborn child!)
Am I too far over the top?
Screw it!!!
Hope you enjoy a "happy rant".
Mr. G. (Alec to my friends, thank you Lucy!)
(Sorry, I got carried away. :( )
This afternoon I had a meeting with a client until noon, she suggested lunch at a fantastic sort of Parisean Cafe place called the "Smiling Fish". Grilled Yellowfin Tuna, an herbal mayo, with the "don't eat them or you'll die!" french fries, and then another meeting, and then my "crew" and a couple pints of Guinness at Buster's. (Ain't life grand!!)
Now I'm home, re-heated a culinary "piece d'resistance"from the other nights left-overs ,... fried spam, white American cheese, plain old white bread, God life is good!!
(Sorry again, if you are not hanging over the "porcelien god" wretching from my all to "shitty" descriptions, then you are a "soul-brother" of flat out "comfort food".
OK, so a bit over the top, but now I'm here at my keyboard,(you can tell from the mispellings) with my second "goblet" of a delicate Shiraz from "down under" called Jacob's Creek Reserve, sharing my inner soul with you!
Sure I'm going on 62, sure I've got a "Guinness prothesis" that announces my arrival and lost me the role of Fabio's "body double", but all that's in my "drug drawer" is Vitamin C, Vitamin B complex, a 200mg Milkthistle tablet(take good care of your liver, you only have 1), and a "baby aspirin" (81 mg.). Like I'm preaching to everyone, "Guinness is the second coming of penacillin"!
Ok, serious aside. Ready?
Mr. Guinness's philosophy on health and longevity:
God is definately no "Idiot", look around you, he did it all in a few days!
God is no "bad guy", what point would be in that ?
God KNEW we, the humanoids, would work extra hard to fuck up what he put out there for all of us.
God put a solution out there for everything, we just have to find it.
And on the afternoon of the seventh day God said, "Who's got the Guinness?"
(No disrespect intended, but dump the freakin' "perscription" solutions, forget the "over the counter" cures, put a stop payment on the last check fro you're personal "psychic", and go have a few pints of God's nectar, Vitamin "G", the "ultimate solution" for health,....have a pint of Guinness. (Don't believe me? A good friend saw an interview with Brooke Sheilds, and she was extolling the merits of Guinness for thier newborn child!)
Am I too far over the top?
Screw it!!!
Hope you enjoy a "happy rant".
Mr. G. (Alec to my friends, thank you Lucy!)
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
"Hump day" (or Wednesday for the wealty!)
Where that term came from I don't know. But I suspect it originated from a war situation, in that you are "over the hump" and on the downside of a situation. (Yeah, I'll buy that!)
Anyway this will be short, it's 7:30PM my time and my wife has a 6:30 flight tomorrow morning from and airport 65 miles away! Shit , one of those 4 a.m. mornings to drive to the airport and by the time I get back it's already time to be at work! (Shit!!)
Anyway, I'll miss her a whole bunch!! (Forty years of marriage and I'm still a whimpering wuss when she has to go away on business!) One of my mates has a different theory which involves being the "party guy" for a couple weeks! Shit, I'd be worn out, dead, and in a definate state of rigor mortis if I followed his advice!
Frankly, not much will change, I'll still pop into Buster's, have my three or four "pints", head home, "nuke" something to eat, watch the tube for a couple hours,(or blog "under the influence" after a few "goblets" of merlot or cabernet) head into the bed room and cuddle up with my cat "Mr. Hiss" and drift off til morn'.
OK so I am a wuss, ok so I miss the shit out of her! I guess i'm one of those dudes who are born to be with my "soul-mate" (and frankly hope I die first because as "The Highlander" said, "There can be only one!". I guess that makes me a romantic, or a part of a very small majority.
I take my marriage seriously! I swore an oath! If the woman I loved in 1966 was good enough to love then, then what the hell has changed today?
I know the net, and "blogs" are primarily for the "younger set", tell me where I screwed up. I met my wife because a buddy threw a firewcracker at her. We were in drum & bugle corps and the man running our Corps found out about it and insisted my buddy drive the fifty mile to her house and apologize personally, as a matter of personal honor!
If he had not done that I never would have met her!!
(Sorry guys if this is to "whimpy" for you!)
I do not have a single regret for 40 years of marriage (this coming June 10th). But I must say from being "super wealthy" to "bankrupt", from eating "filet mignon and escargot" to "franks and beans" she's been at my side.
It's definately not a "physical" thing, as we are both over the "sex" as the meaning of our "love" for each other. (That's definately not saying we are "dead in the bed" as my favorite folk signer Christie Moore says!) But what it does say is that true love transends the physical. As she left for the two weeks she gave me her engagement ring as told me she would love to have it set into a nicer setting beofre Christmas. Is that an "outrageous request" after nearly 40 years?
I'll call her every day, or she'll call me, but 24 hours will never pass without "talking" to each other, unless one of us has gone for a "dirt nap" (dead, for my Aussie friends).
My local buds all wonder "How can you love someone so much, all the time, everyday?"
It's easy, "I DO", and I'm damn proud of it!
One of my Aussie friends "Jezzie" her husband has, or had cancer. Ask her how deep her love goes, ask her what's really important in her life, ask her what really matters.
Life is not about US, it's about those we love,...at all levels , and at all times,...until we no longer are there to "be there" for them!
(Sorry for reality and truth, blogs are great for being what's really inside you and who you are, and I thank all of you who share your self with all of us, and hope I am up to sharing the same for you.)
-30-
Anyway this will be short, it's 7:30PM my time and my wife has a 6:30 flight tomorrow morning from and airport 65 miles away! Shit , one of those 4 a.m. mornings to drive to the airport and by the time I get back it's already time to be at work! (Shit!!)
Anyway, I'll miss her a whole bunch!! (Forty years of marriage and I'm still a whimpering wuss when she has to go away on business!) One of my mates has a different theory which involves being the "party guy" for a couple weeks! Shit, I'd be worn out, dead, and in a definate state of rigor mortis if I followed his advice!
Frankly, not much will change, I'll still pop into Buster's, have my three or four "pints", head home, "nuke" something to eat, watch the tube for a couple hours,(or blog "under the influence" after a few "goblets" of merlot or cabernet) head into the bed room and cuddle up with my cat "Mr. Hiss" and drift off til morn'.
OK so I am a wuss, ok so I miss the shit out of her! I guess i'm one of those dudes who are born to be with my "soul-mate" (and frankly hope I die first because as "The Highlander" said, "There can be only one!". I guess that makes me a romantic, or a part of a very small majority.
I take my marriage seriously! I swore an oath! If the woman I loved in 1966 was good enough to love then, then what the hell has changed today?
I know the net, and "blogs" are primarily for the "younger set", tell me where I screwed up. I met my wife because a buddy threw a firewcracker at her. We were in drum & bugle corps and the man running our Corps found out about it and insisted my buddy drive the fifty mile to her house and apologize personally, as a matter of personal honor!
If he had not done that I never would have met her!!
(Sorry guys if this is to "whimpy" for you!)
I do not have a single regret for 40 years of marriage (this coming June 10th). But I must say from being "super wealthy" to "bankrupt", from eating "filet mignon and escargot" to "franks and beans" she's been at my side.
It's definately not a "physical" thing, as we are both over the "sex" as the meaning of our "love" for each other. (That's definately not saying we are "dead in the bed" as my favorite folk signer Christie Moore says!) But what it does say is that true love transends the physical. As she left for the two weeks she gave me her engagement ring as told me she would love to have it set into a nicer setting beofre Christmas. Is that an "outrageous request" after nearly 40 years?
I'll call her every day, or she'll call me, but 24 hours will never pass without "talking" to each other, unless one of us has gone for a "dirt nap" (dead, for my Aussie friends).
My local buds all wonder "How can you love someone so much, all the time, everyday?"
It's easy, "I DO", and I'm damn proud of it!
One of my Aussie friends "Jezzie" her husband has, or had cancer. Ask her how deep her love goes, ask her what's really important in her life, ask her what really matters.
Life is not about US, it's about those we love,...at all levels , and at all times,...until we no longer are there to "be there" for them!
(Sorry for reality and truth, blogs are great for being what's really inside you and who you are, and I thank all of you who share your self with all of us, and hope I am up to sharing the same for you.)
-30-
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Silly, silly,silly,...and hanging out with friends!
Friday evening is our "usual time" to all gather at the pub and get silly together. This past Friday was no different. (Side note: my cat,Mr. Hiss, loves sitting on my desk calendar and watching my fingers typing. Man if I could get that fascinated by something so simple!)
Anyway I'll start at the end of the evening after several pints of Guinness. I had to write this joke down it had gotten so convoluted. Here's the joke:
"Did you hear about the Agnostic,dysflexic,insomniac? He stayed up all noght wondering if there really was a dog!"
It can be used as a sobriety test as well for if you can remember it and say it without a slur or a missed sylable you can have another. And if you tell it and everyone around you looks at you with a blank look or a quizzical one then they are shut off, (and conversely you may assume that perhaps you are not keeping up with your share of "adult beverages" for the evening.)
That was the final result of a number of group attempts to come up with an original joke. So on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being WOW! How would you rate it?
It all starts with Mikie, every Friday evening. Now this particular night he's talking to one of our freinds Debbie, and being (or trying to be) very serious, Unfortunately if he were to ever have his arms amputated he would become a mute! He's one of those folks who MUST have all the appendages below his shoulder in animation in order to express himself, including all ten fingers! Anyway there was a lull in the overall conversations,except Mikie to Debbie, and we all sort of glanced over at him as he was oblivious to the rest of us at that moment.
Now Mikie is pushing 65, thin, single, and just the salt of the earth as a buddy. But this night he was wearing one of those Hawaiian Flower shirts,bright one at that, had his hair all pushed back (sort of that wind tunnel look) and both hands were going and his facial expression was so serious. Well, I couldn't help it, something struck me so I leaned over to "Loda" (real name Janice, but Loda was her NTN Trivia handle before the Pub went cheap and pulled out the game) and said, "Look at Mikie, doesn't he remind you of a retired Mafia hit man putting out the order for a hit?" That cracked her up and she passed it on and a few minutes later everyone was in fits, ...except Mikie, who finally looks around at everyone looking in his direction in fits of laughter. "What,...did I say something funny? What are you (expeltive deleted) 's laughing at?"
Someone told him he had to be there and that started everyone laughing even harder. From there we went downhill to the Agnostic, Dysflexic, Insomniac...you know?
Well thought I'd share that, but now I have to pop out for a second or two and find out what time my New England Patriots game is on today . Be Right back!
Nope, on second though I have a heavy week so I better get my planner up to date or I'll be coming when I should be going and saying, "Whoops! Wrong meeting!"
-30-
Thanks Lucy, as usual I love your humor, forget your friends and I'll come back to haunt you for them. :)
Anyway I'll start at the end of the evening after several pints of Guinness. I had to write this joke down it had gotten so convoluted. Here's the joke:
"Did you hear about the Agnostic,dysflexic,insomniac? He stayed up all noght wondering if there really was a dog!"
It can be used as a sobriety test as well for if you can remember it and say it without a slur or a missed sylable you can have another. And if you tell it and everyone around you looks at you with a blank look or a quizzical one then they are shut off, (and conversely you may assume that perhaps you are not keeping up with your share of "adult beverages" for the evening.)
That was the final result of a number of group attempts to come up with an original joke. So on a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being WOW! How would you rate it?
It all starts with Mikie, every Friday evening. Now this particular night he's talking to one of our freinds Debbie, and being (or trying to be) very serious, Unfortunately if he were to ever have his arms amputated he would become a mute! He's one of those folks who MUST have all the appendages below his shoulder in animation in order to express himself, including all ten fingers! Anyway there was a lull in the overall conversations,except Mikie to Debbie, and we all sort of glanced over at him as he was oblivious to the rest of us at that moment.
Now Mikie is pushing 65, thin, single, and just the salt of the earth as a buddy. But this night he was wearing one of those Hawaiian Flower shirts,bright one at that, had his hair all pushed back (sort of that wind tunnel look) and both hands were going and his facial expression was so serious. Well, I couldn't help it, something struck me so I leaned over to "Loda" (real name Janice, but Loda was her NTN Trivia handle before the Pub went cheap and pulled out the game) and said, "Look at Mikie, doesn't he remind you of a retired Mafia hit man putting out the order for a hit?" That cracked her up and she passed it on and a few minutes later everyone was in fits, ...except Mikie, who finally looks around at everyone looking in his direction in fits of laughter. "What,...did I say something funny? What are you (expeltive deleted) 's laughing at?"
Someone told him he had to be there and that started everyone laughing even harder. From there we went downhill to the Agnostic, Dysflexic, Insomniac...you know?
Well thought I'd share that, but now I have to pop out for a second or two and find out what time my New England Patriots game is on today . Be Right back!
Nope, on second though I have a heavy week so I better get my planner up to date or I'll be coming when I should be going and saying, "Whoops! Wrong meeting!"
-30-
Thanks Lucy, as usual I love your humor, forget your friends and I'll come back to haunt you for them. :)
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