Boxing Day

Boxing Day Rules:

1st RULE: You do not talk about Boxing Day sales before you get the item.

2nd RULE: You DO NOT talk about Boxing Day sales before you get the item.

3rd RULE: If someone says "stop" or goes limp, the fight is over and the item is yours.

4th RULE: Only two shoppers to a fight.

5th RULE: One fight at a time.

6th RULE: No sharp nails, no stilettos.

7th RULE: Fights will go on as long as they have to.

8th RULE: If this is your first Boxing Day sale, you HAVE to fight.

I should have shared the Rules earlier. I've heard that Boxing Day (and Black Friday) sales can be pretty rough. If you participated, I hope you won.


PS - I have had ideas for posts, but when I try writing them out they seem even worse than the above. Sorry, I got nothing!!! Oh, and you probably noticed the Boxing Day rules are oddly similar to the Fight Club rules. ;P

The Gift of the Magi

I like the story. The wife loves her hubby so much, she sells her beautiful hair to get a chain for his treasured watch (which belonged to his grandpa). He loves her so much, he sells his watch to get special combs for her hair. Very sweet.

But the wife's hair will grow back, the hubby isn't getting that watch back. He does have the chain, a symbol of his wife's love...but somehow it never seemed like an even exchange. I'm actually kind of a romantic and I wouldn't mind being in that hubby's shoes, but from the outside looking in, it never seemed right.

Do you know of any real-life examples that mirror the story? I have a vague memory of my parents saying something similar happened to an aunt and uncle. but I don't remember it clearly.

Angels or a Nightmare???

This post is about an experience I had, but I'm not sure I had. Hopefully it will make sense.

I've mentioned I have a 20 inch neck. It's great for holding up my big head. It also came with a free gift--sleep apnea. That causes people to stop breathing for short periods while they sleep. But so what? I was fine (and too dumb to look up the consequences). I started waking up a lot during the night and then waking up with headaches in the morning. Not every morning, but often. And then more often. And then mornings became a real struggle. I was tired all the time. But I work long hours, so of course I was tired. I didn't connect being tired to the apnea.

There was one positive. One day a very vain woman in my office stopped by to ask a question. My mind was alert, but I could feel my eyes closing. It was hysterical. Why? Because of the look on the woman's face. Thanks to her vanity, she was horribly offended that I could drift off while talking to HER. As I said, my mind was alert, so I was able to enjoy the moment.

That convinced me to see a doctor. I spent one night in the hospital for a "sleep study"--I was hooked up to monitors that measured how often I stopped breathing and also tracked my blood oxygen levels. At 5:00am the technician monitoring my activity woke me up. She couldn't take it anymore--she said I scared her more than any other patient in her 25 year career. On average, I stopped breathing 113 times an hour. At one point, my blood oxygen level went down to 59% (that's why I got headaches--carbon dioxide in my blood instead of oxygen). My poor brain!!!

I was put on the fast track to get a machine to keep me breathing at night, until I decided whether to have a minor throat procedure. Two weeks later I still didn't have the machine. And then it happened.

I went to bed, fell asleep, and later I felt hands pulling me away. I could see my room, then my house. I kept rising higher up (backing away) and the view was just what you would expect, until eventually I was looking down through clouds. But I didn't feel peaceful. I felt panicked. Imagine you see your puppy run out in front of a car. You can save it, but people are holding you back. You can't get free, but you have to. That's how I felt. Finally I shouted, "No, I can't go! My family needs me!". The hands let me go.

And then I woke up. I was awake, but I couldn't move. My heart was pounding so hard and fast I couldn't tell one beat from another and I was gasping for air. I must have stopped breathing for quite a while. I don't know how long it took for me to catch my breath and for my heart rate to drop back to normal--it felt like an hour, but it was at probably only ten minutes. Needless to say I was exhausted.

So what do you think happened that night? Was I on my way to the next life? Or just having a nightmare?


PS - I had the throat procedure. One experience like that was one too many.

Close Calls; Stalking; Normal???

Former reader Elaine teased me last year about some of my posts ("you always seem to have these near-death experiences!"). It was cute. But it made me wonder if maybe I get carried away and exaggerate. I have a fact checker on the payroll, but she may be biased. Have I had many near-death experiences? More than a "normal" person? Let's see:

--When a co-worker burned Freon gas, creating Phosgene gas (a World War I weapon). Yes!

--When a store manager mixed bleach and amonia in a confined space? No, but she passed out before we opened the windows. Don't ever mix those two.

--Getting robbed at gunpoint (with the tip of the gun barrel pressed against my cheek)? Yes! It happened the night before the 1st day of my high school senior year.

--Going on SWAT manuevers with my dad (protecting my gandma's store)? I'm going to say no, but...

--Being stalked from my school bus stop by a fellow my dad and I kicked off my grandma's property the night before. Hmmm, no. It was scary, but he was probably harmless. Probably.

--Encounters with electricity? Yes! (future post)

--Getting dizzy while standing in a tree to saw off its top? Hmmm, no. If my dad had slower reflexes and I'd actually thrown up ON him, then maybe. =)

--Run-ins with a black bloc wannabe and gang wannabees? No.

--The Halloween encounter witht he gun and the girl? Yes (to both).

--My car spinning counter-clockwise while going 50 MPH straight down the highway. Maybe, but it was FUN.

--Hitching rides on coal trains? Again, maybe, but fun.

--Being stalked and pulled over by fake cops? No, I was the one with the baseball bat.

--Getting stalked in a hardware store (my most popular post ever)? No.

--Getting stalked @ midnight on my walk home from work? No. (Future post)

--Being stalked into a subway station's small car parking lot by a crazy trucker? Yes, he was as big as a mountain. I could have easily driven away--and should have


Geez, what's with all the stalking??? Is THAT normal? Have you been stalked? It's not just me, right???


PS - There was also the night I asked the angels not to take me--I hope they were angels!!! That will be the subject of my next post.

Awkward Moment

For my current boss, not me. She looked embarrassed.

I've mentioned often that I've been working like a dog for months now (even more so than usual). My organization needed me and I stepped up. It's what I do. Being responsible is an old habit. I do it for me, but it usually leads to good things. This time it will not. I'm acting in place of my old boss who resigned in September (so I'm reporting to her boss now). The plan was to make the "acting" permanent. I received a temporary promotion and the official recruitment was going to be a formality. Our HR department confirmed I qualified for the job and my name was on the list of candiates to be considered. Then it all fell apart.

The Smithsonian has multiple sources of funding. Until recently I was paid from private funds. I changed jobs in May (a promotion) and became a "federal" employee (paid from from US government funds). It turns out that since I have not been in my current job for one year, I cannot be promoted again (even though I qualify for the job). If I had stayed a private employee, there would have been no problem. But once you become a fed, the rules are different. Our HR department screwed up--I'm not even eligible for the temporary promotion. So that was cancelled (I'm still doing the work). There's also an issue with "veteran's preference", but that's too complicated to get into.

Anyway, management could wait until May and promote me into the position then. But they've decided it would make them look bad. The awkward part?

As the acting head of our finance department, I attend a teleconference with our people in Panama every other Friday at 2:00pm. My boss thought she was going to use the room at 2:30, but of course I had it booked. She looked at me through the glass wall, wanting to ask me to move the meeting. She couldn't bring herself to do it.

Why did she need the room? To interview a candidate for "my job"--but I was in her way. LOL! The universe DOES have a sense of humor.

Guest Post - Bandit

Thursday was one of the worst days of my life. My humans called it “Thanksgiving”. But to me it was more like, “Let’s annoy Bandit”! Don’t get me wrong, I love my humans—and they REALLY need me. I’ve been trying for years to train them to play fetch. Just when I think they have the hang of it, suddenly they forget everything. I put the ball right at their feet, but they don’t know what to do with it. I give them hints by pushing at it with my paw, but it doesn’t help. Plus, I have to single-handedly scare away that maniac (blue uniform, carries letters and boxes) who passes through the neighborhood every day. And they’re not the best communicators. I understand them, but when I talk they just smile at me. Sometimes I ask if they heard me, but they just smile more. Don’t get me started on how difficult it is to walk them!!!

But about Thursday, the alpha female and I got up early to start working in the kitchen. I watched carefully to make sure she didn’t drop anything. After helping her for hours, my family suddenly boxed up the food and left the house with it. What? All that work and we didn’t even eat??? Plus, I’m abandoned on a family holiday? As if that wasn’t enough, the humans left the remains of a cooked fowl sitting on the counter, out of my reach. I could smell it, but not eat it. It was maddening.

When they came home, they reeked of strange dogs. To add insult to injury, I think they gave my food to those other dogs!!!

You can see why it was such a bad day for me. **sigh** The life of dog! Well, I better sign off. I have a grooming appointment today and I think I’ll get my nails done too. Maybe get a new toy, eat, take a nap. Yes, it’s going to be a busy, busy day!

Woof-woof!
Bandit

Thanks for Giving

It's encouraging to see the number of truly caring, giving people there are in the world. I could easily be talking about my blog friends, but in this case I'm not. =)

Like most children, my daughter started kindergarten at age 5. That same year, my son also started attending public school. He was only 3. I'll skip the details and just say he was diagnosed as "speech delayed" by an unjustifiably smug school psychologist ("Your son is too young to know the alphabet. He knows the song, but he doesn't know the letters." Over the next 30 minutes he made her eat those words. :P).

The local school district wasn't very good in general, but they did have an excellent TAG program and a great special education program. That worked out well for my kids. The closest special education center was nearby, but served most of the school district--it brought kids in from all over. My son received wonderful attention there and I received an education. My experiences at the school were a combination of very rewarding and heart-breaking.

My family was relatively poor, but we had a huge extended family that recycled clothes and shared home-grown fruits and vegetables--and we had places to hunt and fish. Thanks to all of that, I didn't know we were poor. At my son's school, I met kids who knew they were poor and who lived in areas over-run with drugs and violence. Kids who only ate at school and got most of their clothes through the school. Kids who spent the night in cars because it was safer than sleeping in their parents' crack houses. And then there were the kids who were disabled for reasons I'm not going to share. Too upsetting. I know much of the world looks down on the US for still having a death penalty, but...

Anyway, the staff at the school was amazing, teaching and helping the students every day. They gave them much more than just an education. The teachers, the office staff, the lunch lady, etc., etc., went above and beyond. As the weather turned cold, coats magically appeared. They regularly brought food in to send home with the kids--especially on Fridays. While most workers look forward to three day weekends and a break at Christmas, you could see the worry on the school employee's faces. What's going to happen to "Tommy" or "Jane" when school is closed?

As important, they also gave the kids something many of them never had before: healthy, positive attention from stable, caring, people. I'm not saying the kids' families don't love them, but many are so messed up themselves they have only negative influences to give their children. That's worse than the poverty--to me.

So, this Thanksgiving I want to say thank you to all the teachers, occupational therapists, speech therapists, secretaries, janitors, lunch ladies and yes, even the school psychologists (most of them anyway) who help disadvantaged and disabled children learn and grow. They're inspiring, special people who help inspiring, special people.

PS - And I also want to offer kudos to my blog friends--I've witnessed your generous spirits and, well, it gives me a little more hope for humanity. =)


"Imagine all the people, sharing all the world."

Thanksgiving Tradition

Our Thanksgiving (TG) menu has become a tradition and is essentially the same every year: salad, roast turkey, sausage and rice stuffing, mashed potatoes (w/garlic OR sour cream), steamed green beans, yams w/marshmallows, cranberry sauce (or a cranberry creation), rolls, and homemade butternut squash pie…with a different appetizer (or two) each year.

The menu came from my side of the family. It became my-inlaws family tradition when my wife and I were 19 (we weren't married yet). Just before TG my mother-in-law had surgery that left her incapacitated. My GF and her 3 sisters panicked at the thought of cooking TG dinner. I told them not to worry; I could do it, no problem. They doubted me, but I showed confidence. We agreed they would buy the turkey and I would take care of everything else.

In truth, my show of confidence was just that—a show. The only cooking I had ever done was flipping burgers at Hardee’s (and beating tomato soup out of a can). But I'd watched my mom and grandma in the kitchen. Plus, I couldn’t count the number of times I had changed the water when one of them was soaking a turkey. How much harder could it be to cook one? Haha!

Speaking of soaking a turkey, I decided to spend the night at their house so I could do that and then get an early start cooking TG morning. After dinner I went to the fridge to get the turkey. It wasn’t there. I asked my wife where it was. “Oh, it’s downstairs in the freezer.” *cringe* I thought they knew the bird had to thaw before it could be cooked…they didn’t. That was my fault, I should have asked about it several days earlier. No problem! I stayed up all night changing the water every 30 minutes and the bird was ready to cook by 8:00 the next morning. But what was that stuff hidden in the neck cavity??? LOL!

I’ll spare you the details on all of the other prep work and skip to the results. The turkey was a little dry. The mashed potatoes were a little lumpy. The marshmallows on top of the yams were a little scorched (really, just a little). I used Minute Rice for the sausage stuffing (it was good anyway). The green beans were canned. But the brown ‘n serve rolls and the canned cranberry sauce were great…and the pie was perfect—my mom made it. =)

As you can see, I didn't make a great meal for them. But the quality didn't matter. Somehow it was one of their favorites and the menu became their new family tradition. I guess because they were feeling especially thankful that year—that my mother-in-law survived her surgery.

So why am I sharing this? Well, just to show that there’s no need to stress if you're faced with cooking your first meal or maybe the first for a new sweetie or his/her family. The real joy in sharing a meal is not about the food, it’s about the time spent together. If your family-friends don’t appreciate you cooking for them, then invite me over. I ALWAYS appreciate it when someone else is willing to cook!!! Call early if you’re more than a 2 hour drive from DC. LOL!

Happy Thanksgiving—whether you celebrate or not (or have celebrated it already in Canada)!

If you don't mind sharing, what are you thankful for today? Just the first thing that pops into your mind. As always, I know I’m thankful for the great people I’ve met through blogging. If you're reading this, that includes YOU! =)

Moving Forward (VERY Short)

Today I am filled with anguish and regret—I lost my cell phone!

Why wasn’t I more careful? Why didn’t I take better care of her? How many times did she suffer with a dead battery because I was too wrapped up in myself to even give her a charge?

She was very faithful, always ready to help when I needed it. I’m sorry I didn’t do better by her.

PS – Dear Phone, I know we’ll never see each other again, but I want to give you a heads-up that I’ll be transferring my number and minutes to a newer, sleeker model. Good journey!!!

Trusted Authority Figure

Note: At first my wife did not want me to share this story. She thought it made her look "dumb"--but being naive @ 15 is pretty normal.

In my youth, I trusted only a small circle of friends. I was wary of others and kept an eye on people, always aware of who was around. Sizing them up. I was respectful, but trust was a different story. My wife often tells me that I've gotten more trusting over the years (too trusting, to use her exact words). But I go with my gut reaction when I meet people face-to-face (something about micro-expressions and your subconscious). I have been accurate reading men. As for women...well, on with the story. ;P

When I started dating my wife (@ 15) I was still in my suspicious phase, but also fairly mature for my age. She says I was 15 going on 40. One day she informed me she was going to visit her former (9th grade) science teacher after school (we were in 10th). The junior high he taught at was only a quarter mile from the high school, so she planned to walk.

Being who I was (and am, in this case), I didn't like the idea of her walking there alone and roaming around a mostly empty school. I also didn't like the sound of some of the things she said the teacher had said to her the previous year. It tickled my spidey sense. Maybe I'd seen too many after-school specials, but I went with her to visit the teacher.

I took one look at him and knew he was scum. He went to give her a hug, so I stepped between them to introduce myself and shake his hand. I engaged him in conversation--and stayed between them. My GF was so mad at me later. Apparently, I didn't hide my opinion of him. He was her favorite teacher and I was being a jerk.

She told people that story about me for years. But she left out a key part of the story--she didn't even tell me until recently. She forgot, then casually mentioned it one day, as if I knew. A few weeks after our visit to the 40 year-old teacher, he sent my 15 year-old GF a letter. He told her she was very special and he'd always hoped they could be together. But after seeing her with me, he knew that wasn't going to happen. He just wanted her to know how he felt about her. WTHeck???

She says she was so naive, she didn't realize what the letter meant--and she never told anyone about it. She didn't realize guys don't write letters like that to say goodbye to people they like. They write them to say, "Hey, I love you and we should be together." Thankfully she never visited him again. Maybe she did know what he was up to, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

Did I mention she was 15 and he was 40??? Maybe nothing bad would have happened to her if I had just gone home that day. But still, he was scum, masquerading as a trusted authority figure. That happens far too often. I don't want to encourage distrust, but I DO want to encourage caution. We can't ignore the fact that there are bad teachers, bad police officers, bad priests, bad people (in any profession) out there. I'm tempted to say "trust no one!". But that's too extreme. There are plenty of good people.

I know my blog friends are smart. So be yourself, trust your instincts, and if you find you trusted the wrong person (as my wife did), don't.blame.yourself!!! And when you discover the person is a jerk, don't keep it a secret--tell everyone!


Also, if you're a 28 year-old, 260 pound, former football player and you see a coach taking advantage of a little boy, don't walk away--PUT A STOP TO IT!!!

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing."

More Oversharing

As I mentioned previously, Dana tagged me with the Versatile Blogger award (Thank you!) and I need to share 7 new bits of info about myself. Some of the 7 are in response to questions from blog friends (Thank you, too!).

1. What’s the strangest thing you’ve eaten? (MizzJ): I once had my fork poised to dig into a friend’s order of calves brains, but I couldn’t do it. Today I tried scrapple for the first time--don't buy it, it's awful. Once upon a time, sushi and octopus were strange for me, but not anymore.
2. Why don’t your posts have more pictures? (Amy): I never got into the habit of taking pics—except when my kids were tiny. Avoiding being IN pictures is one of my superpowers.
3. What color are your eyes? (Thanh-Thao): Blue. If you can stomach enlarging my profile pic, you can see the particular shade.

...and the final four bits of info:

4. I like my eggs over-easy (firm whites) or in an omelet—with lots of pepper.
5. Every night when I get home from work, I take a minute to look up at the moon and stars. That makes me smile and helps me leave work problems outside. Pity my family on cloudy nights. =)
6. Growing up I didn't get an allowance (despite LOTS of chores), but I found a few ways to make money. I think I just found a topic for new post!
7. MizzJ was curious about the near-deadly kiss I received as a 14 year-old. I rarely get asked to share a story, so I’m jumping on this opportunity! :P (Thanks MizzJ)


It was a daaarrrk night--LOL, it was Halloween, right after I encountered the gun nut. I'd been on my way to meet friends and after that slight delay, I did. The girl was with the group.

She and I had recently started talking on the bus and at school. I had just started this new thing where I actually talked with people. It was a conscious decision to change my behavior. I’d been VERY reserved up until then. She was dressed as a flapper for Halloween. Being a gentleman, I offered her my coat. She didn’t accept--she didn't want to hide her fringe. We talked, walked with the group, and looked out for the little ones. When it was time to head home, she wanted to tell me something. We walked off to get some privacy. She said her family was moving out of state that weekend and she wanted to kiss me good-bye. It was quite an experience—my first real kiss. I didn’t have anything to compare it to, but it was nice. My opinion on that would change later.

Soon, I wasn’t feeling great. By Thanksgiving I had pneumonia, which led to the discovery that I also had mononucleosis and an enlarged spleen. One of the flapper’s friends confirmed she had mono when she kissed me—she’d snuck out of her house. I was very sick. Our doctor wanted to put me in the hospital, but my parents were frugal regarding health care (you did not want to be one of our pets). I didn’t return to school until January. I wasn’t supposed to exert myself, but I joined the wrestling team. Boys have no sense!

Was it sweet that she snuck out of her house to kiss me goodbye? Or was it thoughtless to give me mono? After being so sick, I decided it was the latter. Oh well, at least it was a memorable first kiss--and, as I mentioned to Julie (who recently wore a flapper dress), it was kind of awesome to get a month off from school. See, boys have no sense!!! ;P

Have a great weekend!

Mountain Time

In early August I realized I was burned out. Due to scheduling conflicts and work due dates, I had to delay a vacation until October—I planned 2 weeks. Then my boss (& almost everyone else) quit in September. After a delay, I was able to take some time off last week. I thought it would be the perfect time to visit Salem, MA. But I remembered there was a place my wife has wanted to visit for as long as I’ve known her. Natural Bridge, VA. We went there instead.

There's not a lot to see--it's a small site. Water wore away rock and left behind a thick, sturdy, natural bridge. Route 11 actually goes over it. It is scenic. A pretty little mountain creek runs through and when crows “caw” while flying under the bridge it makes an eerie sound. But that’s about it. Oh, and the bus they use to shuttle people back and forth from the bottom of the ravine (holler?) is an ancient rattle-trap. It stalled as we were getting ready to leave. The driver flooded the carburetor and refused to take my advice to push the gas pedal to the floor when he tried to restart it. He kept just turning the key, as if it was a fuel-injected engine. Ugh! We walked (rock-climbed) back to the gift-shop—where I requested and received a refund. Our fellow passengers all stayed with the bus, waiting. I hope they eventually made it out of there.

My wife dreamed of Natural Bridge because her mom went there on an elementary school field trip (probably on the same bus). She grew up hearing about it and wanted to retrace her mom’s steps. That actually made it a nice trip for me too. And the Blue Ridge Parkway is a nice drive this time of year. The trees were very colorful.

My wife also enjoyed stopping at many (many, many) antique shops along our route. I teased her I was going to tell people we had to stop fo every hillbilly selling hubcaps on the side of the road—it would be rude to ignore family! That may not be funny to you, but she almost choked. Her family is from that area (a little farther south) and (according to my dad) I’m a country boy myself...so I can say "hillbilly" without it being an insult.

Aside from the fact that the trip made her happy, the best part for me was that we had lunch one day at a Hardee’s—my first employer. They no longer operate in the DC area. Stopping there was a nice stroll down memory lane. It doesn’t take much to make me happy! =)

Halloween Rerun

If the networks can show Charlie Brown every year for 45 years, I should be able to repeat the post about my strangest Halloween night. Here goes:

I was 14 and too old to trick or treat, but too young to stay in. So after re-stocking drinks in my grandma’s store, I headed for the nearby sub-division to meet up with friends. It was a quarter-mile walk in the pitch black on a country road. Perfect for a spooky night.

As I neared the subdivision, I heard a commotion near one of the houses. As I rounded the corner of the house I saw a man in his 30’s pointing a very shiny handgun at four boys--who were huddling together. I was out in the open and he pointed the gun at me briefly. Without thinking about it, I walked towards him, gestured towards the kids and asked, “What did they do?“, as if I was not a kid myself. He turned the gun back towards them. I walked over next to him and he explained that his mother’s house had been egged—and he was tired of her being harassed. I introduced myself as the grandson of the woman who ran the little store down the road (everyone knew her) and told him I’d talked with his mom many times.

Then I turned to the only one of the accused I knew:

Me: Andy, did you and your friends throw the eggs?
Andy: No.
Me: Do you know who did?
Andy: We saw guys running that way just before we got here.
Me: Okay, you two go look for the other guys and try to get names. You two help Mr. Wilson clean the egg off his mom’s house.

Mr. Wilson put his gun away, apologized to me for losing his temper, and then they all did what I told them to do. Whew!!! That’s when I realized if you act confident and that you are doing what you're supposed to, people will cooperate. It all happened so quickly, I didn’t have time to get nervous. But I did feel shaky as I went in search of my friends. That’s when I encountered the girl.


Okay, I'm not going to repeat the girl part. She kissed me, I caught mononucleosis and then pneumonia. I missed school almost the entire month of December. There were rumors I'd died, so my first week back at school was a little strange.

I ended the original post by wondering who would have guessed the girl would end up being more dangerous than the gun. But that was mostly my doing. I recognized the danger of the gun, but it never occurred to me that a girl could be dangerous too. What a naive boy. LOL!

PS - Here are this year's Halloween pumpkins.

Lucky Me & My Simple Randomness

Part I: My friend Dana gave me a blog award this week and I am supposed to share seven bits of information about myself. Since I've over-shared so much in my posts (including my hat size--7 5/8), I don't know what to write. So I need your help. I'd like you to ask me questions. Is there anything you'd like to know?

Part II: I think I mentioned before that I have two posts planned on the topic of how lucky I am. This is not one of them—but it is about me being lucky....to have met some amazing people through blogging. In fact, if you're reading this, you're probably one of them. My blog friends are a great group. My last few giveaways were only for current followers, to let you know I appreciate you stopping by to say hello. I have sort of a giveaway for you today.

Dana (My Simple Randomness) is one of the amazing people I've met. She was among my first ten followers, so she's been putting up with my shenanigans for quite a while. If you don't know her, you should visit her blog--that bit of advice is today's giveaway. =)

She and I had an interesting experience last year. One Saturday morning I posted about a bad dream I'd had. Almost immediately Dana commented that she'd just had a very similar scary dream. The timing was perfect. I told her I would try to have a great dream to post about, so she could have one too. I didn't have that great dream, but she had one anyway, while awake--she found a BF who is also her BF. Pretty great!

Also, without going into details (I'd rather make it sound weird and mysterious), Dana did something wonderful this week (in addition to the award). I already knew this about her, but she showed she's the kind of person who is in a friendship to actually be a friend. She genuinely cares about people--she's a sweetheart. It was kind of touching. Normally, this is where I would make a bad joke about how I hate to be touched (emotionally). But this is no time for a bad joke--and, as usual, I can't think of a good one.

Happy Halloween!

PS - We bought our Halloween candy too early and now have to re-stock for the trick-or-treaters.

Compliment or Insult

I was getting ready to write something to a blog friend, but stopped myself. Would it be taken as a compliment or an insult? My instincts have been a little off lately--and my attempts at humor have missed the mark badly a time or two. I was going to write:

"You are one in a billion!!!" (How special)

It sounds nice. But the person could think I meant:

"I know seven people just like you." (How boring)


LOL, okay, that IS a stretch. Who would take that as an insult? But you never know.

A former work spouse once mentioned that my late-20-something co-worker looked very young. I passed along the compliment...and got my head ripped off. It turned out the girl's boyfriend had dumped her the day before--he said she was too childish for him. The last thing she wanted to hear was that she looked very young. The next day I got an urge to say, "Gee, you're looking kind of old today." But I resisted the urge. A little harmless teasing can be really fun, but that wasn't the right time.

So I waited and said it to her two years later. =)

"It's My Worst Nightmare!"

That's what my dog must have been thinking the past two days. For some reason, the existence of our attic freaks him out. The pull-down, folding stairs are in the ceiling of our family room. He covertly keeps an eye on the panel, to make sure it doesn't pop open. When we do open it, he leaves the room--with dispatch.

The past two days, workers have been replacing our roof. Bandit was happy to have them in the yard, where he could see them and greet them (by barking like a psycho dog). But when they got on the roof and started walking around, making noises (that seemed to be coming from the attic), he didn't know what to do with himself. The sound was everywhere, so avoiding the family room brought him no comfort.

But don't worry about Bandit. My family has been pampering him in a way that I know I'll never experience.

Darn that cute dog!!!

Have a great weekend--we're going to the pumpkin patch. =)

Five Hats

That's not the name of a new store or restaurant. It's what I'm "wearing" at work. Thanks to two retirements and two resignations, I'm covering the work of five people. Well, two of them didn't do very much, so I'm really only covering the work of 3 1/2 people.

Since the departures included my boss, in addition to the extra work, I have to spend (waste) a LOT of time in meetings. It's making for longer days than usual. The standard is an 11 hour day (plus two hours commuting time).

For fun and a nice distraction, I try to spend a little time commenting on your blogs during lunch (at my desk) or just before bed. So, if my comments are shorter (or weirder and with more typos) than usual, it's not a reflection of how much I enjoy reading your blog.

I'm closing with a bad joke I heard in a movie my wife watched today, "Happily N'Ever After"--it's a CGI version of Cinderella. The hero was appropriately named Rick--or Ella, depending on your perspective. =)

Why did the little pig not need to stop to use the bathroom?
Because he went wee, wee, wee all the way home.

The wolves really howled at that one.

Drivers Around You

I’ve mentioned several times that as a teenager I worked as an assistant manager at a burger joint. The other assistant was a 22 year-old blond who liked me and hated me. The guy she replaced didn’t like me either (hmmm, I wonder if that’s worth writing about?). Anyway, she often acted without taking even a second to consider the situation.

In August, she and the district manager’s daughter went to Ocean City, MD together. She had just purchased a new car and was eager to drive. As they crossed the Bay Bridge, she decided she wanted to listen to a CD that was locked in the glove compartment—and of course the key was on the same ring as her ignition key. She worried she would have an accident if she tried to remove the key while she was driving. So, she cleverly decided to turn the car off and hand the keys to her friend so the girl could open the glove box. She planned to coast for a while. What could go wrong?

What could go wrong is steering wheels lock when you turn off the engines. The portion of the bridge they were on was fairly straight—but not perfectly straight. Almost immediately her car started scraping against the guardrail. The two girls started screaming, not thinking to restart the engine and the car continued to scrap along the barrier until it came to a stop.

They were lucky the car didn’t: crash through the barrier; drift the other direction into traffic; or flip over. She KNEW steering wheels lock when you turn off the car, but it didn’t occur to her as she focused on getting the CD.

The moral of the story? Be afraid. Be very afraid—that people like her are out there!! I mean really, how could anyone hate ME??? LOL, just kidding, of course I mean be afraid because people like her are out there driving. So my friends, please drive defensively and don’t get mad when drivers do stupid things—just be glad you’re okay.

Have a nice weekend!!!

"C'mon Nancy-boy..." (It's horribly long!)

While my sister and BIL’s jerky behavior is fresh in your minds (last post), I want to share a story about something I shouldn’t have done (and hopefully you’ll let me off the hook). =)

Background: This BIL is misogynistic, racist, homophobic and he’s proud of it. If you’re not a white male, you’re inferior. He refers to all Hispanics (and some Asians) as “Mexicans” because it’s “easier”. Gays deserve to be mistreated. His favorite insult is to call men by women’s names, implying they’re gay. Because, you know, what’s a bigger insult than that? (I know some guys do that to tease friends, but that’s not what he’s doing.)

My brother’s wife wanted him to have a nice birthday. So she invited the family to dinner at his favorite restaurant—a Japanese steakhouse. She even invited that sister and BIL. I was 14 when I met the guy and I knew right away he was a jerk--you couldn't miss it! But my parents put up with him because he had more than two nickels to rub together—and they wanted the rest of us to put up with him too. Peace was top priority. After they passed away, my wife’s fingernails in my arm or leg helped me continue to bite my tongue.

I lucked out at dinner. We were in a private room with two cooking surfaces and my BIL was at the other table on the opposite side. I didn’t have to hear him and my vegetable fried rice was great. Towards the end of dinner, I excused myself to visit the men’s room. On my way there I passed my nephew. He was very upset. Apparently the BIL had been harassing the chef at their table. The gentleman was Asian, but the BIL kept calling him “Jose”, asking him if he had his green card, and threatening to have him deported to Mexico. He'd done much worse in the past, but it still made me angry. My nephew asked me not to make a scene.

I wasn’t sure if I could stay there and bite my tongue, again! I’d used up all the patience I had for that guy. When I got back to the table I gave my brother his present, gave his wife money for dinner, and very quietly thanked my BIL for ruining the party (for everyone at his table) with his racist remarks. Then my wife and I headed home. We talked as we drove and I told her that someday I needed to tell that jerk off good and proper. Then I wondered aloud if I was calm enough to do it “now”. My wife said, “I think you are!” So I turned the car around. We were only a mile from the restaurant.

There was a parking spot right in front of the restaurant, so clearly the universe wanted me to go in. I headed for the private room, but my wife stopped near the bar area to talk with my oldest sister (she LOVES to be referred to that way). Dinner was over and my BIL was talking to my brothers. I joined their conversation. Okay, I interrupted their conversation. I shook my BIL’s hand and said, “With all due respect (which I meant in the traditional way—no respect), I’ve listened to your ignorant, racist, homophobic comments long enough. I’m done. From now on, keep it to yourself.” He claimed he had no idea what I was talking about. I looked to my brothers for corroboration—we’d had 100 conversations about it. One brother looked at his shoes, the other at the ceiling, both with goofy grins. I guess I caught them off-guard.

Disappointed, I turned to my BIL and told him I’d said my peace and I expected him to keep his ugly remarks to himself. He just stood there looking at me with his hands in his pockets. I headed towards the door. But just before I reached it, my BIL said, “You have a problem Shirley!” My brain exploded. He was right—and now he did too. There was NO WAY I was going to let him offend the Toothfairy by using her name as an insult. {Actually, I didn’t know TF yet—I miss her.}

I stalked back towards him, fists ready, steam coming out of my ears. My sister-in-law said she’d never seen anything like it. My brothers got between us, but I was focused on my BIL’s hands. I challenged him to fight and wanted him to raise his hands to defend himself (I could shove the brothers out of the way). He didn’t, he just stood there with his hands still in his pockets. I tried to bait him by "insulting" him on his level. I said, “C’mon Nancy-boy, take your hands out of your pockets. Let’s go!” He refused and I knew the moment had passed. I warned the BIL to keep his mouth shut and I headed for the door again. He didn’t say a word this time. Unfortunately, my wife missed the whole thing.

As we were driving home, I got a terrible pain in my chest. I wondered if I’d gotten so angry I was having a heart attack. But it was a different kind of pain. Disappointment. While things were still civil, neither brother backed me up when the BIL denied his ugly comments and behavior. They had complained about that guy for YEARS, but just stood there grinning when the time came to speak up. That gave him the opportunity to claim innocence.

When we got home, I was still too angry to go inside. So I went for a walk. While I circled the block, my wife received a play-by-play over the phone from our sister-in-law. Apparently she and her kids thought it was great. They had been waiting for someone to tell that BIL off (I got 2 cakes on Father’s Day that year). My sister called the next day to apologize for her husband’s behavior. I got the feeling she was waiting for me to apologize too. I didn’t.

A few weeks later the family gathered for a wedding. I was feeling playful at the reception, so every once in a while I furrowed my brow and headed for my BIL. It really made my sisters nervous. They didn’t catch on, even after I’d start laughing and stop to talk with someone else. I did make small talk with the BIL that day—life goes on. The silver lining to my tantrum is that he has been a perfect gentleman ever since.


PS - (As if this needs to be longer) Except for the guy who asked me (3 times) to hit him, I've never started a fight. So please don't get the idea I go around threatening to punch people. I'm mild-mannered. =)

Time with Siblings

I've been planning two posts on how very lucky I am. But I'm putting them aside for a family post. My father's sister passed away recently--that side of the family is not long lived. By coincidence, she passed on the same day my father did (a few years earlier). I thought this might be an opportunity to see my brothers and sisters. It wasn't.

Of my five siblings, only one of them made it to either a viewing or the funeral. The others were too busy. The sister that did make it to a viewing made quite a splash. She and her husband informed the deceased aunt's daughter that her (the aunt's daughter's) infant son is "probably retarded"--because the boy likes to hold a soft cloth against his cheek while he drinks a bottle. I'd estimate that 80% of the babies I've ever seen liked to do that--it's comforting, which is something my sister and her husband know nothing about.

Before that happened, I commented to my sister how strange it was for our dad's sister to die on the same day in September that he did. What were the odds? (I know, 1-in-365, but let's not be so literal.) Her response, "Really? Dad died on that day?"

Family!!!

"Start a business" by Kym (and my last business idea)

Kym recently completed a nice video explaining the process she went through in deciding to start a business and how to start a business (Herrohachi). You should check it out—even if you’re not considering starting a business, the bloopers are a hoot. =)

I started a business or two as a kid--but it was kid-stuff (and will be the topic of another post). As an adult, I've been a 9-to-5'er (and at times, an 8-to-all-nighter). My ideas to start businesses have been few, but my very favorite was nixed by my wife--it was a service people would really want.

One rainy Saturday I found myself thinking back to Sunday school and how the nuns had us pray for souls in Purgatory. And I remembered my grandmother praying for her 10 siblings. She had outlived them all.

Then I had a great idea for a new business--Catholic Brothers Prayer Service!!! I'm Catholic (sort of) and a brother. We would offer to include your loved ones in the Prayer Servce's (my) prayers. The operation would undoubtedly incur costs (like me charging me rent). So, the Brothers would have to request you pay a $5 administrative fee to be included in their (my) nightly prayers (5 nights for $20 and, like Vegas, big spenders would sometimes be comped). The ad would include a clear (tiny) statement that the fees were not tax deductible.

Sure, it sounds shady--and if someone else did it, it would be. But if I did it, it would be okay. In the US, many small businesses organize as limited liability companies--LLC's. But the Prayer Service would have been set up under a different section of the tax code, as a "heLLC" (the IRS provides really cool handbaskets when you sign up for one of these).


Okay, clearly this is one of those ridiculous posts that spring up here every once in a while--and provides a little insight into what my wife has to put up with. I did think about Sunday school and my grandmother and then the crazy Prayer Service idea popped into my head. I shared it with my wife that evening over dinner.

Just as I'd hoped, she laughed, rolled her eyes, and said, "You're a strange man." She was right. I started with a nice thought (praying for people) and made it weird. Also, she told me I couldn't do it, just in case I wasn't joking (I was). LOL!

PS - Friends would always be comped. :)

PS II - The handbasket reference = "Going to hell in a handbasket"

A Knock at the Door

It's Saturday morning. Since it was a long, tiring week. I slept a little late. Not long after I got up (and while I was still in my PJ's), there was a knock at the door. Bandit went nuts barking--as he always does when we have visitors or mail delivery or people (even small children) just walking down our street. I opened the door to find two Jehovah's Witnesses on the porch.

I have nothing against Jehovah's Witnesses, except, well, they seem to have terrible timing. How did they know to show up the Saturday I slept late and was still in my PJ's? The very earnest looking young man of the twosome tried to hand me the Watchtower magazine and asked how I would feel if I was lied to. I smiled because my brain wanted to say, "I would exact revenge with swift and horrorible violence!" and then lean forward to ask the boy in a mean voice, "Would you ever lie to me???"

But I didn't. As I said, he looked very earnest--and his cheeks were pink and fuzzy. So instead I informed them it wasn't a good time since I was still in my PJ's.

One Saturday I conducted a little experiment with a pair of JW's. My wife was at the grocery store and as I got out of the shower I heard a knock at the door. I thought it was her. So I wrapped the towel around me and went to open the door. It was JW's. I decided to act as if I was fully dressed to see if and for how long the elderly couple would talk to a man wearing nothing but a towel--thankfully the towel did not slip. I also tried to interest them in becoming Catholic (which I am, just barely). I didn't get to complete the experiment. My wife came home an hour later and broke it up. (I think I've mentioned this before)

ANother bit of fun with JW's came on a Saturday morning we were getting ready to attend a wedding. The doorbell rang just as I was getting in the shower, so my wife answered the door. When I came out of the bathroom, she was still at the door. I heard one of the JW's say "it can be frustrtating to see people down the street not lead good lives, but get material rewards--new cars, boats...". I joined my wife at the door...again in a towel, that's weird now that I think of it (I never walk around the house in a towel). But anyway, I told the couple, "We ARE the evil people down the street and also late for a wedding". I'm pretty sure I said "thank you" and "goodbye" as I shut the door.

Again, I have nothing against Jehovah's Witnesses. They're trying to help me, in their way--which I don't share. But it's okay. They're not overly pushy and in the future when I'm a lonely shut-in, I am going to talk their ears off when they visit. If you're a JW, I hope you'll come visit me then--it'll be fun (when I turn into Grandpa Simpson).

Is it just me or do Jehovah's Witnesses have bad timing with you too?

Spaving

It's weird to mention the same blogger two posts in a row, but I learned the word "spaving" from Kristie. It means saving by spending. The word was new, but I've been familiar with the concept for quite some time (my wife is a couponer)--and how that concept gets misused. You aren't saving money when you get a bargain on something you don't "need". Since we all define "need" differently, I won't get into that. But I do want to share a story about my oldest brother and his first wife. Let's call them Fredo and Ivant.

When I was 18, Ivant wanted a sporty car and Fredo wanted to get it for her. He had a good job, but didn't have enough cash on hand. So he asked to borrow $5,000 (someday I'll do a post on why I had five grand). He promised to pay me back $250 a month and in a little over two years the debt would be repaid. The only interest on the loan was that I'd get to borrow the car once in a while.

They made the first two payments, but then something came up and they missed the 3rd payment. And the 4th. And the 5th. My brother was full of excuses about why he didn't have the money. Then at a family cookout I gained some insight on what was really going on. His wife, Ivant, went on and on to my mother about all the things she'd been buying--and what great deals she was getting. She was so proud. Then she mentioned a new gaming system she bought...and she asked my opinion on the price she paid. I told her it didn't matter what I thought, but she kept asking and finally insisted. So I told her what I thought...that when people can't pay the bills they have, it's time to stop buying things they don't need--no matter how great a deal it is!!!

She started crying and ran in my parent's house. I wanted to feel guilty, but it didn't happen.

I can't prove this, but I'm not a cheap person. But I am responsible and I expect people to do what they say they are going to do. I would have been happy to revise the repayment terms, but they preferred to ignore the debt while spendng like crazy.

Within a few weeks my brother repaid the remaining $4,500 (they borrowed the money from her parents) and we didn't talk much until two years later. He often needed me to watch their kids in the middle of the night so he could go looking for his wife. She was cheating on him with his best friend and soon they were divorced. So even if I had felt guilty about making her cry, it wouldn't have lasted very long.

Should I have felt guilty? Was I too harsh? I'm tempted to say it was only money, but there was a principle involved too. What do you think???

UK

Kristie is headed for the UK and that reminded me of a terrible joke (set in London). In the middle of the night, a constable stops a young couple walking down the street and asks if they live in the neighborhood. The woman points to a building and responds, "Yes sir, I live there and he has the flat behind." Yuk-yuk-yuk!

I think the Brittish may have invented "your momma" jokes. Old lines like, "Your mother's mouth is so big, she gets lipstick in her ears when she smiles" or "Your mother's mouth is so big she has to keep her false teeth in a bucket".

Other lines I've heard on Brittish shows:

"What's that in the road...a head?" is not how you want to ask what's ahead in the road.

"What's this thing called, love?" isn't what Cole Porter wrote.

Clearly I have nothing to post about. Actually, I do, but yes, this is a post about nothing--except hoping Kristie has a wonderful trip. =)

Have a great weekend folks!

Paying Our Respects...

to the living and the deceased. It's important, on an individual level and to groups of people we've never met--Memorial day, All Saints' Day, Veterans Day, All Souls' Day, etc. The 9/11 aniversary and a few other things have me thinking about this.

I saw a fellow almost cause an accident because he wanted to go when his traffic light turned green, rather than wait and let a funeral procession continue through the intersection. Waiting two minutes was too much to ask. But when we encounter a funeral procession, we have to let it go first. We probably don't know the person, but he or she was important to someone and stopping is the least we can do to pay our respects to the passing of the deceased and the grieving of the living. Do unto others...

My grandfather was the first loved one I lost. I was 7. It didn't seem real. Later I learned that it never does. I managed to annoy my dad at the funeral home. I thought I saw my grandpa's hand move. I didn't make a scene, dad just didn't want me telling people.

A semi-tradition started the next time I lost a relative. I think I was 12. Again I annoyed my dad, but that's not the tradition (at least not the one I'm blogging about). My grandfather's brother died and as my aunts planned the funeral I heard one say, "Let's have Rick be a pall-bearer.  He'll want to do it." At the time my reaction was to wonder why my 15 and 18 year-old brothers didn't have to do it. Plus, my mom's family was large, so why me? My feelings changed by the time the funeral ended. Experiencing a funeral for the first time, the collective grief, I was glad to have had a way to show my respects and be helpful. It was an honor.

I lost my mom when I was 25 and my dad some years later. After that, I'd been a pall-bearer 12 times. I'd rather be a godfather again, or a best man, but attending funerals is part of life too. It's good to help family and friends celebrate their happy moments, but it's even more important to be there to support them in their moments of grief...to pay our respects.

PS - This is my first scheduled post. I wanted the date to be 9/11, but didn't want to stay up until 3am (EST).

Snakes

Our slithery friends have, on occasion, been portrayed as evil. But a snake is just a snake, neither good nor bad. Which reminds me of the story of a girl who had to deliver food to her grandfather--he lived on the other side of a mountain. As she climbed, the air started getting colder. So she buttoned up her coat. Soon, she came across a half-frozen snake on the path. The snake asked for help.

Snake: I need to get to the other side of the mountain, but it's too cold. Would you please put me inside your coat and carry me with you???
Girl: No way! You're a snake, you'll bite me.
Snake: I won't, I promise. You can trust me because if I bite you, I'll freeze.

The girl saw the snake's logic and picked him up, putting him inside her coat. Ten steps later she felt a pain in her side. The snake had bitten her.

Girl: You bit me!!! You promised you wouldn't, but you bit me!
Snake: Hey, I'm a snake, it's what I do. It's your fault for picking me up.


Soooo, if you want to help someone you know is a snake, try to do it in a way that you won't get hurt. And if you do get hurt, don't be surprised if the snake blames you. It's what snakes do.

PS - No matter how reasonable it sounds, ALWAYS question a snake's logic. =)

(Note: I can't remember where I heard this story. Church? Probably not. I do have a snake story of my own, but it's about a real snake and has no point--except that it's good to have cats outside your house. Today I just wanted to make a point about human snakes. Too bad cats can't take care of them!)

I'm not Greta!!!

I'm sure you've all heard this old joke:

Person A: Surely you jest.
Person B: Don't call me Shirley!

Thanks to one of my most frequent typos, my comments may have had you reacting similar to Person B above. But in this case it would be, "Why did Rick call me Greta???"

I didn't. I don't even know anyone named Greta. Sure, I've heard of Greta Garbo, but I can't name a single thing she did. Anyway, in my comments, "greta" = "great".

So, my wonderful blog friends, accept the fact that, yes, you are greta!

Hope you have a gre.....um, a wonderful weekend.

Can you fail a personality test???

Probably not, but I'm not sure how accurate they are. I found this one on Elaine's blog. My results have a few inaccuracies (I think). I'm really an introvert, but manage to hide that because meeting people and getting to know them is interesting. Also, the cautious is overstated. I stay aware of my surroundings so I can react quickly when I need to, but my reactions are not always cautious. But what do I know--we never see ourselves as clearly as we see others. Right? =)




Competent
You strive to master everything you undertake. You tend to learn quickly and do not shy away from challenges.

You are not a "que sera sera" type of person, nor do you go easy on yourself when attempting to master a new skill or get a job done.

Warm
You have a genuine interest in other people. You're a natural host, and are always thinking about how you can increase the happiness of those around you. When friends have problems or are in trouble, you're usually the first person they turn to for aid and comfort. Scoring high on the "warm" trait suggests that you are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

Understanding
You are willing to take the time to find out what's going on with other people, especially if they're in distress. You're a good listener, you don't criticize, and you offer unbiased, respectful, honest advice when it's requested. With a high score on the "understanding" trait, it is likely that you are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

Cautious
You very rarely make a move without first considering the pros and cons and, therefore, rarely do anything foolish or extravagant.

You are not rash; you almost never act before you think and, therefore, rarely end up doing things you later regret.

Calm
You rarely become irritated, generally accept people as they are, take things as they come, and feel relaxed in most situations.

You do not let a minor annoyance escalate to a confrontation. You don't regularly snap at those around you or fly off the handle with little provocation.

Innovative
You come up with a lot of ideas; if one doesn't work out, there's always another waiting in the wings. You often have interesting solutions to difficult problems. You're practically a one-person brainstorming session.

You are less interested changing the world than in dealing with things as they are. Unlike those who spend all their time trying to solve problems, you prefer to zero in on things that work and stick with them.

Astute
You are a quick study. You generally don't need to have things explained to you more than once. When presented with a problem, you will often have an instant understanding of where to look for the solution.

You do not take your sweet time when presented with a new task to complete or problem to solve. You don't avoid assignments that require you to learn new skills.

Scrupulous
You are an honest, fair person. You don't lie or cheat to get ahead. You treat others with respect and hope for the same in return.

You do not feel that you are above the rules that everyone else follows.

Upbeat
You enjoy being around others and others enjoy being around you. You have a "live and let live" attitude; because you know that no one's perfect, you are forgiving and happy to give the benefit of the doubt.

Empathetic
You are in touch with your own feelings, which helps put you in touch with the feelings of others.

You don't buy the logic that your happiness comes ahead of everyone else's.

Bad Rick - The Teenager

When you stop a video of someone speaking, that single frame usually shows their face contorted in such a way that you hardly recognize them--even if it's someone you know very well. It's usually funny and we all know that image does not reflect what they truly look like. Keep that in mind as you read this post about my most embarrassing teenage outbursts. Also keep in mind that my previous post shows I am a sensitive guy. =)

During fall of my sophmore year, I was playing football in gym class. An opponent cheated. I called him on it. He got mad and started yelling at me--he said, "If you don't like it, you can hit me!" Other players told me to let it go, it didn't matter. I told them if it didn't matter, the game wouldn't have rules. That caused the cheater to escalate his temper fit. He got in my face, yelling, and repeating the invitation for me to hit him. When he said it for the 3rd time, I knew he was serious. So I decked him! The shocked look on his face as he went down was amusing--he thought if he made enough noise, I would back down. The good news is his dad decided not to press charges--when he heard the story, he laughed. I didn't even get detention (and my dad gave me a nod of approval).

During my junior year, I invited a classmate to dinner. It was during one of those off-again periods in my relationship with my future wife. Anyway, while my date and I waited for a table, 3 guys walked in. One said, "Oh man, I'd like to get a hold of that blond." I thought, "What a pig!" and scanned the dining room for the poor girl. Guess what? The dining room held only brunettes. My date was the only blond in the place!!! That all took about two seconds and I heard one of the other guys say, "C'mon Joe, behave." As I turned to face them, Joe asked the guy what he had said. In two steps I was in front of Joe and replied: "He said don't be stupid Joe. But you and I know that's impossible for you, don't we!!!" I was...angry and Joe had a shocked look on his face, like he had no idea I could hear or speak. The civilized friend grabbed the other two and pulled them out of the restaurant.

Epilogue: My date kept pestering me to tell her what I said to make the guys leave--she didn't hear any of it. I finally told her and expected her reaction would be: c) annoyed at the crude guy; or perhaps b) annoyed at the crude guy and me. But her reaction was: a) giddy and giggly. I didn't like that so much. It's one thing for me to disregard my own safety, but a date should think a little differently. I guess I was hard to please back then. LOL!

This last one (also junior year) is the worst. My future wife and I were walking up a staircase at school and heard a commotion on the landing. As we got higher I could see a senior was pointing down, laughing and taunting someone. When we got high enough to see the whole landing, we spotted a freshman (picture Harry Potter in the 1st movie) on the floor, crying, his nose bleeding, his glasses broken, and his books spread out on the floor. Someone had rigged the stairwell door so it could only open a few inches. In his hurry to get to his next class, the freshman ran into the faulty door. And that hyena of a senior was reveling in the kid's pain. That made me...angry. Something from an after-school special on women's self-defense popped into my head. As I got to the top of the stairs I shifted my books from my right hand to my left hand and then I grabbed the hyena by his adam's apple (and maybe pushed him up against the wall, maybe). I accused him of rigging the door and asked him if he thought it was funny when someone got hurt...and asked him if it would be funny if his face got smashed against a door (I didn't threaten to DO it, just asked if he thought it would be funny). Having watched too many movies, I made him fix the door and made him responsible for it. I told him if anyone else got hurt running into it, I was going to look for him--and I wouldn't be as pleasant next time. As we walked away, my future wife asked how I knew the guy was the one who rigged the door. I didn't, I just felt he needed to learn a lesson. And for some reason I thought it was my job to teach him.

Okay, this post makes me sound crazy, but my wife wouldn't keep me around if that was true. My grandma drilled it in to me to help people, stand up for them...and my dad drilled it into me to stand up to bullies and loudmouths--you can't just hope someone else will take care of it. But today I handle things differently. Humor can diffuse most situations.

But then again, there was the Nancy-boy situation...and the guy who insulted my wife...and the truck driver who stalked me...and...

My next post will show the results of a personality test I just took. I found it on Elaine's new blog.

Need to shed a few tears?

If you do--and you like old movies, watch Penny Serenade. Cary Grant!

For my male readers, watch The Dirty Dozen. LOL, a commercial for The Dirty Dozen came on right after Penny Serenade went off.


PS - A Child Is Waiting is also hard to get through.

Bad Rick: The Child

Do you think temper is rooted in nature or nurture? As I said in my last post, I believe I was born to be easy-going--as I am today. I have a theory that I have my middle brother to thank for me being able to deviate from my normal, easy-going nature. My oldest brother has no temper. My middle brother goes ape at the drop of a hat. I thought I had two choices in dealing with that powder keg: slink away like our oldest brother did or get mad too and get a little adrenaline flowing to defend myself. (Gandhi who???)

On to my evil childhood! I don't remember the following incidents, but they are part of our family lore and I've heard the stories 100 times--maybe more.

Toddler Rick was adorable (there are no pictures to prove otherwise). My mom loved to tell the story about the day my dad gave me a little smack for something. I didn't think I deserved it so I smacked him back. He was amused (and so was she, but not for the same reason he was), pleased (because I had spunk), but didn't want me to think I could get away with that. He hit me a little harder to make his point. So I hit him a little harder. We went back and forth and it escalated until one of us was on his butt on the floor. I hated to do that to him, but he had to learn. Do you believe that? I didn't think so. Of course I was the one on the floor--I think that's when I first started to learn that talking was a good option.

Another family favorite is about 4-year-old Rick. One day, four of my older siblings were playing in our front yard and wouldn't allow me to join them. I watched them from behind our glass-paned storm door. According to the story, they took time away from their game to start taunting me about not being allowed to play. They could see my little eyebrows furrow down and increased their taunts. My middle brother came over to the door and knelt down to make faces at me right up against the glass. That was a mistake. I balled up my little fist and punched him in the nose--through one of the glass panes. Luckily, no one got cut.

Only my middle brother remembers the next (and last) story. I was not in school yet, so I was probably five--and already employing tactical strategy in dealing with him. He was 3 years older, bigger and stronger. But he came home from school at the same time everyday and everyday he came in our back door and crossed through the dining room. One day I climbed up onto a chair next to the dining room door and waited for him, with a skillet. As he crossed the threshold, I supposedly knocked him in head, then dropped it and ran screaming to our mother that Sonny was trying to hit me with a skillet. I have no idea if that is true. If it is, it was a rotten (or possibly great) thing to do. But then again, if you knew my brother you'd wonder why I didn't hit him again. I blogged this story once, but it's such a family favorite I'm repeating it. Also, it highlights the importance of varying your schedule. You never know when a 5 year-old with a score to settle might be waiting for you!!! =)

Okay, those 3 stories are it for childhood, I didn't leave anything out. Some of you may remember the mushroom story, but I won't repeat that here.

The next post in this theme will be about the teen years--starting at 16. One of the 3 stories is a little scary (and probably the worst except for the Nancy-boy story), one is funny and the other is...well, it makes three.


Note: Last summer, my brother apologized for all the "stuff" he did when we were kids--and said he wondered why I was even willing to talk to him. I let him off the hook by reminding him of the skillet story. =)

Darkside IV: Evil Rick

I have been on a break from posting. I think I only have one in August so far. But I have found something to post about while still caught in a cycle of too much work and not the best attitude—this is the perfect time to share more “Darkside” stories. I don’t have many. =)

But first, I think I was born to be mild-mannered and diplomatic and 99.9% of the time I am. Most people can’t even imagine me getting angry. But of course we all get angry and under the right circumstances we all display some level of a temper (I'm setting up my defense here). While pushing my buttons today is a difficult thing to do—much harder than when I was a teenager, on occasion people do still stumble onto the code (0,0,0, destruct--Star Trek and Futurama fans will recognize that).

Like the fellow who decided driving 5 miles over the speed limit was too slow for him. So he passed me, crossing a double yellow line, while we were approaching the top of a hill. The on-coming metro bus swerved into my lane to avoid hitting the jerk. The thing looked like a 20-ton monster bearing down on me. Thankfully I had room to swerve out of the way (as the jerk sped off). That made me mad. But, I told myself I should just let it go, no one got hurt--following him would be crazy. Then as I pulled into my destination (a gas station) I spotted the jerk buying gas. The universe presented me with a teachable moment, so I HAD to discuss with him what happened. At first he shrugged and smuggly said, “Nothing I can do about it.” He was wrong--and to my ears it sounded like he was telling me to "blank"-off. By the time I finished yelling at him he had: apologized for almost getting me killed; admitted he was a moron; and promised that he had learned his lesson and would never, ever do anything like that again. I felt good about being able to help him grow as a person. ;P

But me getting mad isn’t always extreme, it can come in small doses. One Sunday my wife spotted a stray dog at the edge of our backyard. She wanted to go get it, but we were late for a gathering. (We take in strays all the time, so don’t get the wrong idea.) As I encouraged her away from our sliding door, we noticed the dog’s owner walking up. I started to unlock the door, but my wife stopped me. She said, “Oh no you don’t, I see that gleam in your eyes and the little smile. We don't have time, we're late, remember!!!” She claims that when I get just a little mad (and have a plan to share it) about things like a guy letting his dog run loose in the neighborhood, I get a certain little smile on my face…one that people don’t understand until I start talking to them. I have no idea if that’s true or not, but it probably is

I have a few more stories (Child; Teenager; Adult; and Nancy-boy) to share and I would love to get your opinions on whether I acted appropriately for the situation or perhaps went too far (especially "the nancy-boy" incident). Was my response "justified" by the provocation? I say YES, but it's easy to rationalize our own behavior ("I don't think anything I've ever done was wrong!"). ;P


PS - This reminds me of one of my favorite exchanges:

The Hulk: Don't make me angry, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry!
Villian: I don't like you now!

Finding it difficult to write

Before getting to this post, I want to take a moment to applaud my blog friends who had the courage to read and comment on my previous post—the one titled, “Could I Live With You?” LOL! Of course, once you read it you understood I wasn’t asking to move in, just addressing how little things can be annoying when you spend a lot of time with someone AND you're stressed out.

I want to follow-up with a post on how we react differently to the same actions committed by different people. But I've re-written it 4 times and it got worse each time. So here are just the long bullet points:

--The more we like someone, the easier it is to overlook minor annoyances.
--People we don't like annoy us just by being there, so they can't get away with doing the very same things we overlook with a friend.
--The jerks notice, but most don't understand why they're treated differently.
--I work at treating everyone the same, but fail (despite a co-worker from the Baltimore ghetto--who dresses like a $2 hooker--telling my wife she likes me because I treat everyone the same. I try, but I don't. Because...
--Some people are just too damn annoying--I'm thinking of the co-worker who has tried to explain to me 50 times why she buys value meals instead of buying the items individually. Who would have guessed something called a #$%&*# value meal might cost less??? She tries to plant herself in my office and I have to throw her butt out so I can get work done. Can you tell I'm in a mood? =)

Finally, this will seem unrelated, but if I gave you the 12 page version of the post it would make sense. I want to mention that while it's important to support our friends, we can't do it blindly. I think that's how World War I got started. Sometimes our friends are wrong. As a friend, you should give them a reality check when they need it.

Okay, I'm done. I'm going to take a little break from posting until I remember how to write. To make sure you don't forget about me, I'll be logging in to comment. I don't want to lose touch with you because [see last line of the post].

Mayra mentioned having a scoring chart for the quiz, so I made one up. A perfect score called for 9 C's, followed by "yes", "no" and "buy" (helloooo Kristie and S&C). ;P

8-9 C's: Like Mary Poppins, you're practically perfect
6-7 C's: It would be great having you around.
4-5 C's: What's a few differences among friends.
2-3 C's: Time apart can be good for friendships.
1-2 C's: Are we related?
Nada C's: These are the people I live with.

So if you like someone enough, love them, or have entered into a tontine with them, a few minor annoyances are definitely worth it--regardless of how they answered. Like it or not, I think my blog friends (including you Mayra) are all Mary Poppinses (sp?). =)

Could I Live With You???

Don't panic, I'm not asking if I may live with you. Just wondering how difficult it would be for both of us. This post is about how difficult it can be at times to share living space--especially when you're struggling to avoid acting badly at home as a result of craziness at work (that'll be a separate post) that leaves you out of patience, very tired, and almost looking for a fight.

We all have our little habits, preferences and beliefs that can be annoying to others and leave us wondering why they go out of their way to annoy us. Right? Here's a short quiz to see if we could share space without driving each other crazy (like Neil Simon's "Odd Couple").

1. It's too hot, too cold or too something to cook, so you offer to buy me dinner. When the bill arrives, do you:
a. pay with my credit card? (If yes, well played!!!)
b. inform me you brought no cash or credit cards?
c. ask if I'd like coffee or dessert before you pay?

2. I make well-drained tuna for our lunch. There are leftovers in the bowl and you agree to cover it and put it away. Would you:
a. cover the bowl with the wrap of your choice, but leave 30% of the opening uncovered?
b. tear off a 12 foot section of the wrap, wadding it up on the bottom so the bowl wobbles like a weeble?
c. use an appropriate length of the wrap, centered over the bowl so that it is completely covered?
3. You rinse unused ketchup off your plate and pieces of your uneaten dinner (maybe a few shreds of lettuce, bread crumbs, whatever) fall into the sink. Do you:
a. set your plate on the counter and walk away?
b. put your plate in the dishwasher and walk away?
c. rinse the ketchup and food out the sink?

4. You decide to have a snack that includes peanut butter. As you begin to stick a knife into an essentially full jar of PB, do you:
a. drive the knife to the bottom of the jar, getting PB all over the handle?
b. put the PB encrusted knife in the dishwasher (where the PB will harden and still be there after the wash cycle)?
c. clean any excess PB off the knife?

5. Since it's again too whatever to cook, we order pizza for dinner. Do you leave the empty pizza box:
a. on the electric stove top burners?
b. balanced on top of an over-flowing trash can?
c. inside the trash bag (crushed and folded) or in the recycling bin?

6. As you get out of the shower you notice hair accumulated in the drain. Do you:
a. ignore it, since you're done?
b. feel glad you're leaving a part of yourself behind to share with others?
c. take 2 seconds to clear the drain with a tissue (or whatever, just clear the drain!)?

7. Do you squeeze the toothpaste tube at the:
a. top?
b. middle?
c. bottom?

8. When you get home, do you put your keys:
a. wherever?
b. someplace?
c. where they belong?

9. It's 110F outside. Is that your cue to:
a. throw open the curtains on the sunny side of the house?
b. boil potatoes to make pototo salad?
c. keep the curtains closed and the stove/oven off?

10. Do you replace the soap or TP in the bathroom if you're the one who finished it off? Are newspapers at the end of the driveway invisable to you? If you needed new socks, would you buy them or permanently "borrow" mine?

So, would we drive each other crazy? Or maybe I'd drive you crazy about driving me crazy??? LOL, okay, most of these things are goofy, meaningless, little nothings. But little things like this and even little things you normally think are cute, can suddenly become very, very annoying when you are exhausted and in a bad mood...and I have been this week.


Has that made me a jerk at home? Not yet. When I get home from work I take a deep breath before going in the house and remind myself that the aggravation I feel belongs at work. So far, it has stayed there...and mostly so have I. I've worked way too many hours over the past week or so and I haven't been on-line much. I'm sorry I've missed so many of your posts, but hopefully I can catch up soon.

Getting back to the point of this post, so, could I live with you??? Be careful how you answer because if I quit my job, the next question might be, "May I live with you???" LOL!

Germans Not Funny???

Apparently there is a conpsiracy in Europe to create the impression that Germans are not funny people--they placed last in a survey. Being 50% German myself, I want to thank Steven Colbert for proving that false. Skip the nonsense about John Lennon and jump ahead to the 2:15 mark in the video. But I'm not 100% convinced that guy is really German--he almost smiled once!


PS - While Germans were last, the survey placed Americans first!!! =)

The Colbert Report
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My Wheelhouse

Baseball announcers rarely make it through a game without saying, “That pitch was in his wheelhouse.” I’m sure it has other meanings, but in baseball the “wheelhouse” is the area where a hitter’s swing of the bat has the most power. I’ve been told that in blogging, my wheelhouse is the story with a lesson (I think my wheelhouse is commenting on your posts). I haven’t done one of those posts in a while—I think I’m running out of stories. But I thought of one today and it involves baseball (but not a wheelhouse).

I played my first little league game when I was 12. The game couldn’t have started better. I was playing center field and the very first batter hit a ball over my head. I ran back as fast as I could. When I looked up, the ball seemed to be just sitting there in mid-air, waiting for me to catch it. I did. The next batter did almost the same thing, but the ball was more to my right. Again, I made the catch. My teammates and their parents were cheering like crazy. When I went to hit for the first time, I was nervous—it was my first at-bat in front of a crowd. I think adrenaline took over because I crushed the ball. I hit a homerun. As I scored I heard a parent ask “who is that kid?” and my mom proudly said, “He’s my son.” I was a hero to my team. But I knew that even when you try your hardest, sometimes you’re going to strike out. That’s just how it is. So I stayed humble, I didn’t need to learn a lesson about that, I already knew it. But fate was determined to teach me a lesson that day anyway.

The score was tied in the last inning. The other team had a runner on 2nd base and there was one out. The next batter hit a ground ball to me in center field. If I picked it up quickly and made a perfect throw to home plate, I might have gotten the runner out before he scored the winning run for the other team. I didn’t have a strong throwing arm, but I was going to try my best. Then the ball hit a rock (it was a school playground, not Fenway Park) and took a funny bounce. I missed it and the winning run scored. I felt awful that we lost.

After retrieving the ball, I was the last one to get to our team’s bench. As I got close, I could hear the grumbling about how I had lost the game for my team. And it wasn’t just the kids. The parents were making cracks too—that it was my fault we lost. My mom didn’t know what to say, so she folded her lawn chair and headed for the car. Did anyone mention that the runner would probably have scored even if I had done everything perfectly? Did anyone mention that we would have been behind by three runs if I hadn’t caught those two balls earlier and hit a homerun? No. They wanted a scapegoat for losing. I went from team hero to team goat in an instant. It was a great introduction to little league and the all too prevalent "What have you done for me lately" approach to life.

That day played a part in me understanding that when you’re the hero, everyone is your friend. When you’re the goat, you learn who your true friends are. Also, I learned that when people are emotionally invested in something (as too many parents are in kids’ games), logic and graciousness can go out the window and you have to ignore their ignorance. I wasn’t the reason my team lost that game, but the people offering opinions said it was entirely my fault. ALSO II, I learned it’s important to: 1) console the “goats” in life; 2) be a good loser—don’t start pointing fingers of blame; and 3) be a good winner—don’t act like a jerk and rub it in.

Enjoy your victories, but don’t take your losses to heart—you need to be ready for the next game, the next exam, the next career move, or the next challenge. Don’t define yourself by a single moment in your life. But if you must, make it a positive one. =)

More Oversharing

Meibelle started a questions tag and I want to do it before I forget—I have a real problem remembering to do tags. (I'm sorry if I've missed a few.)

1. What do you order at Starbucks?
A small mocha frappe—and they tell me it’s Tall, not small.

2. What's one thing in your closet that you cannot live without?
My belts. Without them I’d get arrested on the subway.

3. What's one thing that most people probably wouldn't know about you?
I have over-shared to such an extent, at first I couldn’t think of anything. Then I realized it was right under my nose—and chin. I have a beard and moustache at the moment. The first time I grew the combo, it was to hide a baby face…then I realized I really don't like shaving. But it's time to be clean-shaven again.

4. Name one thing that you want to do before you die.
I hope to one day hold the world record for being the oldest active driver ever. Watch out America!!! And I'd like to visit Ireland and Germany, the lands of my ancestors.

5. What's one food that you cannot live without?
There are lots of foods I really like, but none that I eat everyday or would be upset if I couldn't have again. Unless strawberry shortcake counts, I would really miss that--but I don't have it very often.

6. What quote/phrase do you live your life by?
In brightest day, in darkest night, no evil shall escape my sight! LOL, no, it would be more like be forgiving, because we all make mistakes (but don’t be a sucker: once is a mistake; twice is a lesson learned; thrice...well, don't be a sucker).

7. What do you like and dislike about the Blogger community?
I like that Blogger has allowed me to meet some wonderful people I never would have otherwise. Seriously, if you are reading this, what are the odds we would have met in real life??? What do I dislike? Spammers for sure. Also, I worry when blogger friends disappear suddenly and completely without warning. But what can you do???

8. What's your number one most listened to song on iTunes?
The song with the most number of plays in my iTunes folder is "In My Life" by the Beatles, but in the past week or so "Grenade" (Mars) and "Beyond the Sea" (Darin) have gotten a fair number of plays.

9. What kind of style would you define yourself as having?
Unchanging, comfortable.

10. Favorite number?
Six (but 4, 8, and 16 come close)

11. Two hobbies:
Many have come and gone: gaming; tennis; chess; learning about cigars, about wines, about old coins; target shooting (not hunting); fishing; bowling; and avoiding golf (one round was enough). Recently, blogging and filling the role of family patriarch for my elder siblings have been my main hobbies.

12: Two pet peeves:
Rude, mean people and ignorance--I borrowed these from Meibelle, They are my top two as well. At the moment I feel like I could list 10. Fun at work has left me feeling particularly peevish.

13: Guilty pleasures:
Air conditioning and sleeping late--it's nice to enjoy both at once.

I'm going to copy Meibelle again--I tag all of you to complete the lucky 13 questions tag.