It’s warm-65 or so- and dry here today.
I rolled out my bike, cleaned it up a bit, donned my new leather jacket, and went for a glorious ride.
Hope that makes you all feel better.
It did me.
*snicker*
Nothing smells better than new leather, rolling down the highway, in the sun, on a motorcycle.
mmmmmm.
My Daughter and her cousin go skating every friday nite, which lasts until eleven o”clock, so we usually find something to do rather than drive all the way home and back. We have been having dinner with my wife’s brother and his wife, which kills a little time, but still leaves us looking for something to do for an hour or so.
Thank God for Wal Mart, it’s open 24hrs a day, and provides free entertainment for the masses. If you want to have some fun, stroll into your local store about ten-ish on a Friday night. You will see things you did not know existed in the free world, let alone your neighborhood.
All colors, shapes, sizes, and economic levels of society dwell within these walls. We saw a friend of my daughter, a 17 y-o boy wearing spongebob pj’s while shopping. He walked up and spoke, as if nothing was out of place, needless to say, the bil and I laughed hysterically.
There are always the folks that don’t know even spandex has its limits, and have on way too little clothing for their ampleness. Why is it that the ones wearing the shirts proclaiming “Hottie” are always the furthest from being so? One lady in her forties went by wearing a belly shirt and hip huggers, she had so much skin hanging out, it looked a biscuit can had popped open and the dough was escaping. Her man was just as bad, he had a really bad combover, a six inch gap between his shirt and pants, and sandals with socks.
The crowning glory of the night had to be the woman in line wearing a zebra print housecoat, large pink rollers in her hair, and fuzzy purple bedroom shoes. She was chewing gum, talking into a Bluetooth, and trying to function while sporting at least six inch nails that curved around at odd angles.
It’s no wonder the rest of the world hates us.
They are sooo jealous.
Well, we made it through another tumultuous year, and we are staring straight down the barrel of a brand new one. Last year had it’s ups and downs personally, but as a whole it was a good year. I am holding out hope that this year will be a better one for the economy and the welfare of the people, we all need a change for the better.
I have been on the road a bit with family travels, and quite a bit with work, but as it settles some, I will be around more writing and taking on the odd topic now and then with my own brand of wisdom/humor/whatever.
Do not forsake me, oh my readers, my one real resolution for the new year is to be more diligent with my writing endeavors.
Which also means I will be reading and leaving bits of wisdom and humor on other blogs as well. Watch out. 
I was inspired by a friends post questioning the real gifts of the season. She feels like most of us are disconnected, and don’t enjoy things as we once did. Sadly, I think she is right.
Where did the shoe salesman go, where is the personal service? Where are the people we once knew, and interacted with on a daily basis? We, for the most part, have become slaves to the grind. We text, or IM those closest to us, rather than take the time to visit, touch, or hug those we love. The family unit has been replaced with the “My Circle” unit on our phones. I have a great many friends that I know only through an electronic medium, and I truly enjoy these friendships, but I do long for more. For the last two summers, we have planned vacation trips to include meeting internet friends in person, and it has been a rewarding experience. It puts faces and voices to personas, and it has given my children the chance to go places, and be exposed to new things.
I also try and take time for personal encounters in my everyday life, I am a “people person” I guess. While Holiday get-togethers and traveling seem frenetic, we must remember that often, we see some of these folks only once a year for whatever reason. So, take a little extra time for human touch, and warmth, rejoice that we are all humans living on the same rock, slow down, don’t take things so serious and literal, and enjoy.
I have the advantage of having two children, the youngest almost three, so I can step back, and see things through the eyes of a child. It is still a wonderful world if you know where to look.
Twas the night before Festivus, when the bank foreclosed on the house,
Nary a critter was stirring, cos we ate the damn mouse.
With the dryer in hock, the clothes were hung by the heater with care,
In hopes that St Nick would leave a new washer and dryer there.
Four children were nestled all snug in one bed,
While visions of their very own room, danced in their heads.
And mama stood watch, ready if need, to bust a cap,
I stepped down from my post, to catch a short nap.
When out in the road, there came such a clatter,
I jumped from the recliner to see what was the matter.
I unbolted the window, quick as a flash,
and yelled out to the yard, “we don’t have any cash!”
The moon was the only light on the new-fallen snow,
cos the streetlight was busted, and the glass lay below.
When, what to my bloodshot eyes did appear,
twas an Escalade, with eight gang bangers near.
With a fourteen year old driver, mashing the brake with a brick,
the thought of his payments ‘bout made me sick.
From out of his windows is where the thumping came,
he yelled to his homies, and called them by name.
“Yo’ Dee-boy, hey Danny!
Wassup Rancid and Dixon?
C’mon Ajax, you too Stupid!
Move it, Donnie and Blister!
Get yo’ buts on that porch!
It aint but a six foot wall!
Lets bust a move, Today! Now bounce away!
Careful, don’t fall.”
As scared rabbits they run, as the wild bullets do fly,
when they meet with buckshot, even the toughest ones cry.
So back to the Escalade, of course they flew,
with a sack of my neighbors shit, and his pit bull too.
And just then I heard it, feet on my roof,
one of those bangers was on the hoof.
I drew a bead on his butt, judging from sound,
and fired through the roof, knocking him to the ground.
That pimp was decked out in fur, from head to foot,
but his clothes were a mess, from when I did shoot.
I’m sure that the buckshot had stung on his back,
and he looked rather sad, digging pellets from his crack.
His eyes were all glassy from huffing paint, his pimples seemed merry,
He’d never been shot, but now he had cred, I’d broken his cherry.
His grill-dressed mouth was all out for show,
but the stubble on his chin just refused to grow.
The stub of his crack pipe held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke of it circled him like a funeral wreath.
He had food on his face, and crumbs on his belly,
he needed to bathe, and smelled rather smelly.
He was thinly and gaunt, a right odd looking elf,
I laughed when I saw him, and almost peed myself.
The glaze of his eye, and twitch of his head,
said if he huffed more glue, he’d soon be dead.
He spoke messed-up words, his bent-up grill made his lips not work,
He sprayed paint in his sack, and called me a jerk.
Raising the bag, so it covered his nose,
inhaling deeply, the vapors all rose.
He sprang to his feet, and to his posse did whistle,
rubber peeled from his dubs, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him holla back, as they sped out of sight,
Happy Festivus y’all, ah’ight.
We have somewhat of a tradition now, a new one, only a few months old, but quite nice. My oldest daughter and her cousin have been going skating on the weekends for some time now, every Friday and Saturday night. After we drop them off on friday around seven pm, we have been going to dinner afterwards with my wife’s brother and his wife. We usually pick someplace on the spur of the moment, Applebees, Rock-ola, a pizza joint, or the like, somewhere we can sit and relax for a bit. Conversation is always light and engaging, making the time pass quickly, and often, we will stay until time to pick up the kids.
It’s funny that my wife and her brother did not get along well growing up, but now we all genuinely enjoy each others company. I think we all look forward to our Friday nite get togethers as a way to vent, and unwind from the weeks events. Not having any siblings, I have become quite fond of our nights out, and enjoy the closeness of the family.
Here’s to a new tradition, one that I hope continues for a long time.
We were shopping in Home Depot the other night, and Mary, who will be three in March was pushing the buttons on every Christmas thing that spun, lit up, or made noise. She absolutely has fits over the trees, and the lit up things, wanting to touch them all. We bought her a globe, with Santa and a reindeer inside, that makes noise and blows snow inside when activated. As we approached the register, she had to repeatedly push the button, and show the cashier her new find, rather than be annoyed, the young lady acted very interested and amazed. Mary asked her name, and when she replied, she also pointed out that it was written on her smock. It seemed to bother her that someone had written on the young lady’s clothes, as Mary knows this is a no-no. But the cashier pointed out that all of the people in the store had orange aprons with their names on them, and she became okay with it.
The young lady called her manager over, and inquired if there were any more child size aprons in the back of the store, saying she wished to get one for Mary. The manager watched her register while the girl literally ran off towards the back of the store, returning in just a moment with a tiny orange Home Depot apron. They found a sharpie and carefully wrote Mary’s name on it before presenting it to her. When they placed the apron on her, you would think they gave her a million dollars, she was grinning from ear to ear, giggling, and dancing around happily.
Even as busy as the store was, that girl took a little extra time, and went beyond her job, to take care of her littlest customer. Her manager also deserves some thanks, for participating, and allowing her to go get the apron and give it to her. I thought the people in line behind us were going to object to waiting the extra minute or so, but as we were walking away, I heard the woman behind me say “that was a very nice thing you did, bless you.”
Mary now wears her apron proudly, and will often put it on and head for her play room, and say she is going to work.
”Where do you work baby?”
”At the Home Depot store.”
♫ Tis the season to be jolly♪ ♫
♫ Falalalala ahhh, screw it.
I’m trying to be jolly, but it’s hard.
I love Christmas, I really do, and I have two children, for the three year old, this is a magic time. Seeing her face light up with each brightly colored house, or giggling at the mall Santas, is the most special thing ever.
However…. There is a downside to the whole mess.
I hate the mall to begin with, now I hate it worse, the parking is terrible, and when you do find a spot, some jackass passes you between rows of cars like Mario friggin’ Andretti, and steals the last spot. Once inside, it gets no better, what happened to manners and courtesy? Some old lady with a walker nearly ran me down trying to make the escalator. Jeesus lady, the stairs keep coming out, it’s not like I was gonna take the last step away from you.
I love my kids dearly, but I’m not gonna stoop to fighting in the aisles of “Toyz R Nutz” to get the last Tickle My Special Spot Elmo. Aint hap’nin.
But, as fate would have it, I’m in Target, reaching for a cute Fisher-Price© Little People™, to get my baby girl, and some half crazed woman jams my ribcage with a buggy. It seems that she thought I was reaching for the last Hanna Montana Teen Trailer Trash™ make-up kit, and felt the need to eviscerate me with a buggy. Nice one, thanks, I wasn’t gonna use that kidney anyway.
Why can’t we all just get along?
I know what it is now, it is a morbid curiosity. People sneak by here to see what ramblings I have posted lately, but they don’t want to be spotted here, for it may ruin some perceived appearance they have manifested of themselves. I think onlookers are waiting for some meltdown, or perhaps even a ritualistic suicide, captured forever in the electronic medium.
Well, sorry to disappoint, but I am not about to go down in flames simply to amuse others. I am in complete control of my faculties, and am quite sane. I don’t see any Doctors, I don’t take pills, my marriage is great, my kids are good, and we are not hurting financially. Life is very good right now. Sure, I have worries over the economy, gas prices, and war, but they are facts of life, not sources of infinite stress.
I have learned that most people take themselves far too seriously, and stress over things they cannot control. What’s the point? There are things we cannot change, and destiny will be what it will be, relax folks, enjoy life. We have become a nation of over-medicated fussbudgets, we seek chemical solutions to everyday problems that we could handle if we really tried.
I think, a great number of people invent a persona, and blog about this person to create a safe little world around them, and have others come in to tell them what a nice little world it is. I have always maintained that what you see is what you get with me. It’s not always pretty, but it is always real. I have many demons in my past, but that’s where they live, in the past, they don’t dictate what I do now. I accepted my faults, dealt with them, and laugh about them now. The occasional reader that stops by, will now and again get a nugget from my past to read about, and perhaps learn a lesson from.
It’s funny, sometimes the smartest, most intelligent, and elite, just miss the point all together.
Just remember, culture isn’t just a way of life, it’s also the stuff that grows in a Petri dish. When one puts themselves above others, they miss out on many wonderful things, and beautiful people along the way.
Think what you will, but I am informed, intelligent, learned, and street smart. My studies have afforded me knowledge of a great many things, but my keen eye, and wit, have taught me the ways of the world.
I lived through a suicide attempt, several drug overdoses, an ex-wife that tried to kill me, an electrocution that stopped my heart, and a serious illness that would have killed a lessor man. I am here because of sheer will, determination, and because I love life. I got up and walked when lesser men would have given in to their fate. Every day is a struggle for me, but I am here, and I will overcome.
To many who know me, and what I have done, I am an inspiration, and they are proud to know me. It is an honor for them to be considered my friend. I am also honored and humbled by those that have chosen me as a friend, and will be as loyal and diligent to them as possible.
Happy reading, or, if I don’t fit into your tidy little sanitised world, it was nice knowing you.
Forty-three years ago I came into this world kicking and screaming, not much has changed.
