A Story before The Story..and pay attention!

So I've been a little disjointed the last couple of hours, and I'm starting to see why (don't fret, my stories always come together...well, at least in my head they do). What a jacked up Tuesday yesterday was....

But before I get to yesterday, a little backstory, or the story before the story. About 10 years ago, I was on the phone (albeit briefly) with my Pops when he told me a harrowing tale, how he had tried to drive home drunk and almost clipped a telephone pole. And while I could sit here in judgement, we've all been there. Doesn't make it right, but damn near everyone has driven home when they are less than 100%. What freaked me out wasn't his reaction to his own admitted stupidity, but what he thought about whom else he would hurt by his actions. He'd hurt himself, his family, and more important than that to him-someone else's family. He made a solemn promise to Ma Dukes and to me that he would never get behind the wheel crocked again. Now, I'm not sure if he did or not, but I do know that Ma Dukes picked him up from the bar a whole bunch more, he took more cabs, and got more rides after he told me this. I think it smacked me into place a little bit, and now I rarely drink more than 3 beers when I'm out. At 250 lbs., I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Now, if someone else is driving? I still don't go nuts. At least I hope not.

So I tell you this story so I can tell you another story, one that just happened, is still happening, and how it is going to impact all those involved. In my last blog posting I talked about Yuppie Buddy and his wife. Well, her world just got turned upside down by something that happened across the country. We can all learn a lesson from this, so take notes if you feel the need....

RIP Lisa
Lisa was Yuppie Buddy Wife's Maid of Honor (Yuppie Buddy Wife will be known as YBW from here on out in the blog), and the wedding was on 10/10/09. Look at your calendar. Do it. That was a little over 8 months ago. I had met Lisa a whopping 3 times, but in thinking that I'm a decent judge of character, knew she was a great lady. She was YBW's bestest friend, they spoke every other day, even when YBW lives in Denver and Lisa lived in Pittsburgh.
I say this all in past tense because Lisa was hit by a car on Monday afternoon, pushing along a stroller with her 1 and 3 year old munchkins in it. A 20 yr old male with 4 previous traffic violations ran a stop sign, hitting all 3. There is a report that Lisa pushed the stroller in one last attempt to save her children. I should mention that in the few times I got to hang out with Lisa, she not only seemed like a great lady but a really cool Mom. And that was her job, her choice, to be a stay at home Mom. Well, Lisa took most of the brunt of the SUV that hit her and had head trauma. Yesterday around 1 PM EST she lost her battle.
Because of someone failing to pay attention, a sweet person is gone from this world. Now, a husband has no wife for which to share in the joy of being together, raising kids, having barbeques, hanging Christmas decorations, holding hands and growing old together. 3 children-ages 4, 3 and 1-will hear nothing when they yell out "Ma!", will be missing a piece of themselves, will be missing the person that kisses their owies, gives them hugs and tells them to just keep trying and all will work itself out.
I'm mad as hell, but only for my own selfish sadness. I told my Yuppie Buddy to just give the Misses a giant hug from me. They will be on a plane to Pittsburgh on Saturday to remember a friend who was taken way too soon by someone else's foolishness. I can't fathom not being able to pick up the phone and call my best friends. That day is supposed to come when we get old and have lived a full life, one of laughter, joy, sadness, heartache and all the other good stuff that makes us friends. Not now. It's too damn soon. 36 is not old, it's barely midlife.

So pay attention
I'm begging you-stop at the stop sign. Don't drink and drive. Call a cab. Hell, I have no money and no job and I'll pick up the tab. Because you tell me by reading what I just typed above and tell me there is no such thing as a 'Butterfly Effect', when I can tell you that there certainly is.

Lisa will be missed, she is gone but will not be forgotten. A great lady and a great Mom taken far too soon. So do something about it. I already did today...no more rolling stops.

Godspeed Lisa Styles.

Cleanup, aisle 11

Sometimes things are so damn funny, you just don't know what to do-do you get mad and learn someone, or just let it go to laugh at it at another time? I said I would be going on a little self-prescribed vacation away from the blog, and I did, for a week. Why? So stuff like this week wouldn't get to me and so that I could give my head a break. When you have as much 'free' time as I do, it's not always a good thing. There are times when you can catch yourself in a vicious little circle and not sure how to get out of it. I sometimes think I'm just one of the few dumb enough (smart enough?) willing to discuss it. Well, I'm told I'm 'wordy', so there it is. On to the news-

Job Front
Now this is where the hilarity started this past week. This week I've received feedback from my 17 minute interview last week, turned down for 1 job, been told I'd be awesome for a job, and had a real dose of reality slapped upside my bald head.
The feedback on the 17 minute interview: I hope you're sitting down, as I was baffled for about 14 seconds until I had to ask the clarifying question. So what happened? My 1st interview a few weeks ago was apparently for a job that not only wasn't posted, but won't be available until who knows when. But it will be a req that opens up at some point in time. So why the 2nd interview? No one really knows. It wasn't a fit for me in any way, shape or form. Come to find out that is also about as chaotic of an environment as GE-and we all know how well that one ended for me, right? Well, at least it wasn't like they told me I gave a shitty interview.
Turned down for a job that I never even interviewed for, I think I applied for it in April.
Was told via email that my resume was impressive (why thank you) and I'd be a great fit for the role, but the req was canceled. Awesome! I'm a perfect fit for a job that doesn't exist!!
The dose of reality. Had a guy call me on Wednesday as I was riding down to see the Red Sox game that night and he broke it down to me, real honest. That company is a sales recruiting company, and I know I'm very picky in what I want to sell and how. Sorry, I have no desire to do inside sales to sell Kirby vacuums, just not my thing. Not knocking those that do, just not for me. Well, this guy flat out told me to lie on my resume, if I was trying to get a job in Boston. There is no way most companies would consider me with a Denver address. That makes sense, since unemployment is so high, there is a talent base already there. My contention, that if a company was to hire someone new that there would be at least a 2 week wait for them, while solid in logic, doesn't hold water in the real world. Damn, this is like the dating world for me. Logic gets chucked out the window. So what to do? Well this honest person listened to a few of my ideas, one which may even be put into action. But that wouldn't be until about halfway thru August, if at all. As it stand right now, there is only one job in Denver that I am holding out hope for, and that's it.

The NBA draft-didn't watch it, was too busy watching baseball.

The Red Sox in town!
I can live with the Sox taking a whole 1 out of 3 games, really. What irks me? The ignorance of Denver and the, ahem, 'locals'. This cracks me up. They talk no shit during the game, or even before the game. But as soon as the game on Wednesday night is won via a walk-off HR, the morons come out. 'Go back to Boston'. Alright fine, let's play Economics 101. How many people do you think show up for a midweek Rockies game? About 19,000. How many can cram into Coors Field? About 50K. All the games vs. the Red Sox were sellouts. That's about an extra 30,000 people for 3 days..can ya do the math? That's 90,000 people buying stuff downtown, some even vacationing in Denver and maybe they even went outside the ballpark area and went out to Boulder, or Estes Park, or Garden of the Gods. Any chance that helped this state's economy? How about the people that work downtown that live off of tips, like bartenders, servers, valets? Think they had a good week? Then shut the hell up already. And have the intestinal fortitude to talk shit before, during and after the game, not after the fact. That, in effect, shows your lack of faith and/or knowledge in your squad. After the game 2 walk-off I was appalled at the drunk moronic behavior I got to see, grown men flipping off kids, I got to hear about a guy spitting on a girl (only thankful I wasn't there to witness that one, I'd have a very bruised hand on that one), but my favorite moment happened on the street on the way to the car on Wednesday night.
Let me preface this whole thing with the following-I don't care your gender, I will cut you down to size the moment you think you can play with me. Now, I was almost in the parking garage, nothing had happened to me, no one had said anything, the people I was with, I'll explain them in a second, 2/3 were drunk, and one was bordering on belligerent. A young couple approached him to try and rub in the Rockies win, and had the potential to turn into something ugly. Sometimes you never know, but I know my buddy, and the potential for doing something stupid is high, I repeat, high. I tried to tell him not to go down to the level or even bother with these to young'ins. Well, the girl decided it would be a good idea to try and engage me. Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. She could've said whatever to me, but said she wanted to shake my hand because I was a loser. Let me get this straight-the team I cheer for lost, not me. I was in no mood, so I declined. She then decided it would a good idea to touch me, on the shoulder. Sorry, do I know you? No, no I don't. My friends don't touch me, why the hell would I let a stranger touch me, especially since all I wanted was to go home. You know how you're almost free from stupidity, and then it pops up? What's the first thought that goes thru your head? Mine is simple, 'DAMN IT!', so close. I asked this girl to please take her hand off of me, as we weren't friends. That's when the toughguy boyfriend decided to step up. Now to be clear, I never yelled. I wasn't drunk. Sober, hot, tired, annoyed and now my defense was up. Because you never know when someone is going to try and get mobstrong. He grabbed her away from me and decided to say "It's okay honey, let him cry", bad thing to say. I took one step towards him and asked 'hey pal, do you see tears?' and his voice quivered 'No', to which my buddy laughed and pointed at him. I then moved my buddy to the other side of the street while he called this poor guy all sorts of synonyms for female anatomy. While hilarious, I'm glad I still got it. All I wanted was to be was left alone, yet there goes the big bad Rockies fan (in his new hat, yup, been a Rockies fan for 12 minutes!) and you could hear his woman asking why he didn't step up. Is there any worse feeling? I doubt it, but damn that's funny.
The game on Thursday was a little better, as Pocket MVP Dustin Pedroia hit a hat trick! Best hitting performance I've ever seen. Oh, and his 1st HR ball was damn near at my feet, but it was better to watch grown men chase a baseball around then to even move. Even better was the woman sitting next to me who got pushed into me by her boyfriend. Ah, love. Yup, he got the ball and a ton of shit from his lady.

Peace & Quiet
The roommate left this morning bright and early and is gone for a week. Ah, tranquility. One of the things that I've figured out is that even if I decide to stay in Denver (relax, those in other parts of the country, I doubt highly I'm staying here) I have to move out of my current situation. The guy is depressing, lazy and a slob. And it has been wearing me down for awhile. Oh, and I finally got to put on the A/C. It's been like a steady 90+ degrees here for a week, and his cheap ass wouldn't turn it on. Well, I will. Who lives in 84 degrees? Not me.
All I have to do is hang out with his dog. Yes, the stinky dog got a bath last week, for like the first time in a year! How is this a good pet owner? I swear I may give him another one during the week.

My health, etc.
I have eaten like crap the last two weeks (it happens) and am finding myself lethargic. So it's off to get myself back into some form of shape, other than pear. And that means eating a whole lot better, too. Don't get me wrong, I love the junk food probably more than most, but you can't live off of that stuff. The only other thing I've noticed is how much I don't like the heat and crowds at the same time. I'm uncomfortable being crammed. And when it's 90 degrees, I think we all need some personal space, because the cranky-scale is high. You could see it out at the ballgames all week, just people being annoyed with being cramped and hot.

Political
Alright, I have to ask-when did it become a good idea to let government be in charge of job creation? The only reason I ask was because I just had someone knocking on my door to give me a pamphlet on some guy running for Mayor. The guy's #1 priority? Job creation. Well sir, how do you plan to go about creating jobs? Will you open up a manufacturing facility? A restaurant? What form of business will you be operating, I'm curious. Or will you add more bureaucracy? If that's the case, I don't think we as citizens want it. Not on a local, state or especially federal level. Why? Simple, really. The Federal government can't run trains or a mail operation in the black. The state can't keep illegal immigrants from getting in, and shhh, but some of those illegals might have way worse intentions other than getting money to their family in another country (they might want to harm some folks). The local government? You're kidding me, right? They can't stop high school kids from making/selling meth to other students or even getting molested by their homeroom teacher. And you want to tell me that you'll create jobs. Great, where do I sign up. In all honesty, I've been out of work for 10+ months now, and I probably should have dummied-up by now and drink the Moron Kool-Aid, but I can't. It's way more fun to screw with people.

The dumbass argument
So before the game on Tuesday I got to meet up with my Yuppie Buddy, his wife and her friend. No, this was not a set up. I've met this woman before, she has a boyfriend, and I don't steal anyone's lady, at least never to my knowledge. Now, Yuppie Buddy and his wife are pregnant. Let me restate that-she's pregnant, he's there to utter the phrase 'Yes, dear' like he's breathing. Christ it's sad. The poor bastard is fetching more than a labrador. First and foremost, my boy now has a new definition of the 'ish', which is bullshit. The 'ish', as I thought was established throughout the world, was a 15 minute window to be late. If you tell me you'll be somewhere at 4:30ish, then that gives you until 4:45 before I can get ticked off and/or worried, mostly ticked off because I got worried. His 'ish' is now 30 minutes, which is disrespectful. I'm honestly curious how I go about telling him that this whole thing of him being constantly late is lame and making him look like a dick. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated. I am rarely (can't say never) late, despise it and have been in numerous disputes because of it. Be where you say you're going to be when you say you're going to be there. How difficult is that? I usually allow for the 'ish' due to traffic. Or misplanning. But this has now become his way, and to me it's just not cool.
More importantly, because I am on a very limited budget, I decided to take the bus down to the game. Gee, spend $7 roundtrip for a bus that can get into the HOV lane or spend $40 to park. No brainer! But taking the bus also means I have to plan to leave when the bus leaves, not on a whim. And we had to 'get a bite to eat' (Lord I'm cringing even writing that, who talks like that?) to make sure Yuppie Buddy's wife wasn't too miserable during the game. Hello? Stating the phrase 'too miserable' implies that if you feed her she might crank it down to 'miserable' or 'mildly discontent', right? Then hows about she not come? I was first at the restaurant, and having numerous years of experience, I know when to bother trying something and when not to. But I had to get a 3 minute dissertation on why I needed to see if I could get seating at a restaurant for 4 people when I'm the only one there. I knew the answer would be no. Why would a restaurant who has the chance to be at capacity waste a 4-top table on 1 guy when potentially that table could be turned over an extra time? Best part was as I was listening to this, the two guys at the door were staring at me and could tell what was going on, and shaking their heads, 'No'. After showing up with the 30 minute 'ish', my buddy had the nerve to ask the hostess if they sat incomplete parties, and she told him that they didn't. What, like I would lie?
Allow me to state that I still love my buddy, but he's changing. I know I am, too. Heck, if anything, I'm becoming more rigid in who I am and standing my ground. Friends do grow apart, lives change, and I get that. Am I nuts for thinking this isn't always a good thing?
After the obligatory 'oh, I'm late' routine, Yuppie Buddy's wife decided to bring to everyone's attention that my buddy doesn't want to know the sex of his child, or he's on the fence, while she wants to know the sex of the baby. I know this will come as a shock to all that know me, listen to me and read this, but this is probably the only time I clam up. I firmly believe that this is something that should be discussed between a couple, and a couple only. I am simply astonished at the amount of opinions I've heard come their way, uninvited and intrusive. Please, don't give me that whole thing about that's just people being people. That's bunk. Quite frankly, this should go up at or near the top of the Nunya List. Yuppie Buddy's wife's friend had to chime in with the 'oh, you just HAVE to find out, that way you'll know how to prepare' routine. Grrrrrr. Of course, she has no children of her own to speak, so naturally she's an expert. God I hate these types of people. I'm still being quiet, until my buddy asks me what I think. My answer is simply 'do whatever works for you two', and I mean it. If I don't find out the gender of their child until after it's born, great. All I'm hoping for is 10 fingers, 10 toes and health. That's it. Everything else is a fly by the seat of your pants operation. No pregnancy is the same, no child-rearing is the same. What works for one doesn't necessarily work for the other. Don't believe me? Have brothers and sisters? Where do you rank on the food chain? I know for me that being the oldest meant way more responsibility and way more punishment than my brother got. Relax, this ain't therapy and I ain't sharing. Children don't come with instructions. I just look forward to the day I have my own clone (maybe someday) and the first time that kid drops and F-Bomb. I'm pretty sure I'll know where they heard it first, I'm just sayin'.
Now, after that little discussion was out of the way, my buddy's wife had something else to be offended by. If it seems like I'm bashing, maybe I am. Maybe it's because I'm all about living on Front Street, hiding nothing and not bullshitting myself or anyone else about life. I love my buddy and his wife, but this kid is going to be the biggest reality check they'll ever see. Life isn't a damn romantic comedy, we don't live in sound bites, and every once in awhile you have to get your hands dirty and not stress about there being no handi-wipes within 2 feet of you. Life gets messy, and if you don't learn to enjoy the mess every once in awhile, you're doomed. The other reason they irk me is because this is the 2nd year in a row I've asked to be left alone to allow me to think about my Pops and they've called. Yes, they are trying to be polite, but neither of them is equipped to deal with this, they both dance around the subject with 'You okay?' and on to the next topic, while plugging in the conversation somewhere that they were worried about me. How do you show that concern while talking about your grocery list for Target??! To me, you don't. Fine, maybe that's how they deal and show concern, but I don't dance around topics, I'm too bullheaded. Say what the hell is on your mind, quit circling around it.
So the offending comment was about someone else talking about someone else's kid looking like a Monchhichi. Yes, you can queue up Ron White saying he's 4th generation don't give a crap, because that's totally what I was thinking. The other thought that popped up was that I thought the cartoon was cute. Didn't you? That to me would state that the guy thought the kid was cute. My buddy's wife didn't see it that way. She saw it as jealousy because maybe he didn't think his daughter was as cute. WHAT? Read that again. Who thinks like this? Shallow people? Anyone? I can't imagine if I had my own child worrying what someone else's kid looked like, for more than an instant, if ever. So how did I put the kibosh on this one? Well, only after I was asked for my take, I wondered allowed if anyone believed in Creationism or Evolution (stay with me, it'll be worth it). Yuppie Buddy's wife said 'a bit of both' (hey, this isn't to bash a religion or a belief system, I have neither the time nor patience for that debate, believe whatever you want, really). Bingo-if you believe in any sort of evolution, then you should have the thought that we as humans are the evolved form of monkey, right? Well, isn't a damn Monchhichi a cartoon monkey? Then what's the damn problem. Seriously, I hate white people, for crap like this.
But the better part of this whole thing was that during the game the girls left to go to the concession stand, and I looked at my buddy and told him, on the real, do whatever the hell he wanted, that if anyone told him what to do he has every right to tell that person or persons to shut their yap. And remember that the middle finger is a wonderful tool when used appropriately and applicably. I have another friend (in another country) whose wife is pregnant, and I can guaran-damn-tee you he won't be looking for any opinion other than his and his wife's. That's it. That's all, and that's all there is.

I'm sure you just read something above and thought, "wait a minute, he's white, how can he hate white people?" Easy. I hate suburbian morons or any other groupthink. Can't stand easily led automotans. Don't get me wrong, some groupthink isn't all that bad, like you probably shouldn't kill someone, or driving drunk is bad. That I can get on board with. But this other crap of who I need to vote for or what car to drive or global warming, get bent. Think for yourself and read up on things, damn it. I know why people ask for my opinion, because punches will not be pulled and you'll get honesty. It's why I get in trouble. It's why I don't date certain women who tell me what I can and cannot say. I'm grown, I know that there is a time and a place for everything, I know when not to be crass or rude. I'm civil. But please, for all that is good and Holy, how many people have you met in the last week or two and thought they sounded like something they either heard thru the mainstream media or talk radio? Both are dangerous. And someone telling you they have street smarts is just an excuse for them being dumb. Don't believe the hype.

Think, it ain't illegal yet.

And I'm done with my rant for Saturday.

Happy birthday to a crooked-eared farting machine (re: dog) who apparently is mad at me for not getting shout-outs but can fall asleep at my feet when I see him. Someone tell that pooch that I hope his next year is just as awesome as these last 10. Cy, I'll see ya when I see ya.

Is there such a thing as Emotional ADD?

You want it, you got it..

My review of Game 7 last night thru 3 quarters
Not all that bad, officials haven't been horrible, I haven't yelled once, people are smart enough to leave me alone while I watch the game, Celtics are starting to look timid. The only call I hate, and I hate it when I'm watching a Clippers/Bucks tilt in January-the double technical foul. Either call it on one person or don't call it. Can NHL refs call a 'Double-Dive'? Didn't think so. Can a baseball ump call you out and safe at the same time? Nope. Can a Football ref call holding and false start? Why yes, yes he can...you know what happens? They replay the down!

My review of Game 7 during the 4th quarter
Are you F@#$ing kidding me???!! 12-5 in fouls. Overall the Lakers get a 37-17 free throw attempt advantage, which only enhances the fact (yes, it's a fact) that they dominated the C's on the boards. You can't teach height, and the Lakers had it. I do like that the simple stat that the team that won the rebounding edge in each game won that game. That's fine. But someone-Yes, I'm staring at you Joey Crawford, Danny Crawford and Scott Foster-better start explaining the discrepancy come this quarter. Or I may honestly start questioning the validity of every NBA Championship since the Pistons repeated two decades ago. No, not because my favorite team lost. A 20 attempt discrepancy screams something else.
Now, Kobe Bryant getting the MVP of the series? That's the best joke I've heard all year. Who was watching this series and in turn watching Kobe chuck at a 25% clip last night? MVP? Fine, I'll grit my teeth and bare it...Ron Artest. He man-handled Paul Pierce all series, managed to get 2(!) double techs called during the series and made game 6 real easy for the Lakers and totally won that game last night. Great D and clutch shooting. Kobe? 6 for 24 in the biggest game of his life. Bitched at his teammates the whole series. I hate him, I admit it. Yes, he's a fantastic scorer. He's also an ass. And makes no one better. Please, don't tell me about his fantastic 19 point 3rd quarter in Game 5...which they lost! Basketball is a team game, and if it weren't for Artest and Gasol, Kobe would be crying about his 'crappy' teammates again. Open note to NBA commissioner David Stern-could you just tell us who you like next year so I know where to place my wager?
Oh, and to the 3 people who decided to call me to talk smack the moment the Lakers took the lead?-Be prepared, I will either not answer the phone next time, or answer it and tell you what I hope happens to you in the coming days. That was beyond rude. So, don't talk to me for weeks (and in one case-5 years!) and then have the, ahem, balls to call me? Since those numbers are not in my contact list anymore, I answer just in case that could be a potential employer (as I did get a phone call at 7 a couple weeks ago, anything is possible, and face it, I need a job), so I feel like my goodwill was being taken advantage of. Politely to those people, piss off.

My Sports goal for 2010
Well, this is not a bragging statement, but I would like to think that I know quite a bit about football (pro, which ironically seems less about money than college), basketball (really you would have thought thru 3 quarters last night I was watching a History Channel documentary about ancient Aztec fighting techniques), and baseball (I love going to games on like a Wednesday night, no one is there and I can be left in peace to eat a hot dog, drink a beer and just enjoy the sounds, leave it alone). What 'major' sport do I not know as much as I ought to know about? Hmmm. What sport have I never heard people who know the sport bitch about officiating? What is the best sport to watch live? Oh, that would be the Canucker national past-time, also known as hockey. No, there will not be a 'Hockey for Dummies' book purchased, damn I am not that lame. Or a 19 year old girl trying to impress her new boyfriend. I know enough but I don't know nearly enough...make sense? So I will spend some of my time (I can't call it 'downtime' as I have nothing to be 'down' from-I'm not working) checking out some stats and historical type stuff. At least I've been to the Hall of Fame in Toronto already (special thanks to Kenny!) and seen the Stanley Cup, I'm one (or is it two) on most. By the way, what has two thumbs and called the 'Hawks in 6 to win the Cup? Oh yeah, this guy!

Oh, and the playoff beard has been trimmed down quite nicely so that I no longer look like a fat homeless guy siphoning off more than one bowl of free soup. Whoop-di-damn-doo.

On the job hunt front
Classic-this is a direct copy/paste from the email I received this morning:
"While your qualification and background are impressive, we have decided not to fill this position at this time. Your application will be kept on file for future consideration."
How awesome is that?! And the hits just keep on...comin'!!!

Been two weeks
And no, no I will not be talking about my Friday night in Boston. Why? Because it's been two weeks and I can barely process it. While my confusion (my confusion, and only my confusion) has been discussed ad nauseam, it has no impact on my ability to overthink whether or not I move home. Yes, I said it, home. That's my home. Why? That's where Ma Dukes is. Maybe someday if I have my own family that will be home, but right now, home is where Moms is at. I could probably boil that Friday night into two words if I had a gun at my head, but I don't, so I'm not going to. Go figure, the guy that can't shut his yap doesn't want to write about it on his own blog, which all of 3 (4?) people read. You know what? I take that back, I do have it written down, but it's in a file on a memory stick not attached to my laptop, and right now it's for me. Chances are real good it stays that way. Why? Because you can't change the past or anything smart or stupid you said. There, that's why.

Fathers Day
I have some fantastic friends, some who even have the nerve (?, or is it guts, or concern?) to ask me how I'm doing this week. As you know, Fathers Day is this Sunday. And this might, or it might not, explain this blog-like why it may come across as more aggravated than normal. This Fathers Day coming up is worse for me than last year. Why? I don't know. Maybe it's because I am making a mountain out of a molehill concerning whether or not to move to Boston. Maybe it's because I haven't had a job in over 10 months and I am doubting my own abilities (oh, you have no idea). Maybe because if he were here right now I could pick up the damn phone and he'd smack me into place (I've been known to need that from time to time). Or he'd just tell me to trust myself. He was like the only person who could calm me down, not because I'm hyper, but because he'd know when my mind was racing all over the place and couldn't get back on track. He was an awesome person that way. He knew when to push and when to pull back. Very rare these days. I miss him a whole lot, especially when I feel like I'm such a damn trainwreck, also known as a duck on a pond. Don't let the cool exterior fool you, I'm looking for an answer to a question that I know in my heart has no answer. Let that rattle around your noggin for like 5 seconds and then think about what you would do if you had nothing but time on your hands...sounds like a freakin' blast, doesn't it? That's not to make you, the reader, feel bad or guilty. It's my blog, I'm honest to a fault. I'm also apparently wordy (nothing like being told that twice in a week-can I get my own radio show?), and by being wordy I give out details. That's what makes it fun.
I was lucky enough to be invited over a friend's house the other night for dinner, and his wife was out. Her father passed away 3 months ago. He asked me how I was doing. Truth? Not good. I need a hug. He wanted to know what to expect, and as someone who has gone thru it, is farther along in going thru it, I guess I'm a resident expert. I told him that there are the stages, the anger, the laughter, the depression, the reasoning (not in this order, we're all different), but for me, and probably with his wife, the one that will linger the longest-it's the guilt. At least that's the way it was (is?) for me. And my buddy told me that's the big one his wife has been going thru so far. Like she could have done more. My advice? Listen, and if she asks anything, just to remind her of all the good times and all the times she hung out with her Dad.
For me, that's what I'll be doing on Sunday. After I talk to my Mom, I'll call my dipshit brother to make sure he's okay, then I will be at the end of a bar for a couple of beers and then the shift to the next cocktail.
Something my little 'friend' doesn't know, but I'm going to tell her, and you all, right now. Before she moved to Boston, she asked a bunch of her friends to get dressed up for a nice dinner. I suited up, buzzed out of work early to go home and change and then boogied up to Boulder. During the ordering of cocktails, I ordered what I ordered, and was chastised by someone else because it wasn't good vodka. What that, ahem, 'person' didn't know, was that was my Pops drink of choice. It took every fiber of my being not to bounce that guy's melon off the table and wipe the restaurant with him. I pay homage my own way, all day, every damn day, and that little incident, while most would blow off, still irks me, mostly because others at the table laughed, and I figured better to take the small jab than to make everyone else feel like shit. I didn't want to ruin dinner, but I can say my night was different after that. This little story wasn't told to make anyone feel bad, it really wasn't. It's my truth, how my prism of the world was working that night, and oh how fortunate some people are being blinded by their own ignorance. Granted, I'll never see that guy again, but I don't want to, either.

On to better things, and better days. You won't be hearing from me for a few days, I need to go on my own self-prescribed sabbatical. I swear the older I get the more gray things get. No, not my mood, but my answers. Used to think everything was black and white. Oh how I could not have been more wrong. Time to consult my gut and see what happens.

Happy Friday to you, and if you are a Father, or have a Father, Happy Fathers Day, and recognize your importance in the world.

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Now playing: OutKast - Reset [feat. Khujo Goodie & Cee-Lo]
via FoxyTunes

Cleanup, aisle 10

So much to get to, and nothing but time....

Does this count as an interview?
I had my second interview with what I thought was an interesting company, to be a Business Analyst. I would have learned some cool stuff (for my geeky behind, anyways) but boy oh boy did it turn out to be an epic waste of 17 minutes:
my interview was with a lady that used to work at GE the same time that I was. We knew of each other, never worked together, I never worked for her. She had my resume in hand and mentioned that she saw that I had worked for GE, then asked who I had worked for.
Once that formality was out of the way, she asked why I left. I've been prepped for this question for a long time, from coaching sessions to talking with family. The first few times I had answered this question, even in mock interviews, the bitterness flowed out of my mouth way too easily. Now there is a standard answer of, 'it was time for me to go pursue other ventures.'

Well, this woman knew. She left the company too. I told her it was a wee bit too chaotic for me, the open office, no time to think straight. She then told me this place was the same, that they have crappy info and it needed to be cleaned up. I asked, "so what is it you're really looking for?"

She told me-someone who can write SQL, XML and Java code. WTF? I don't do that stuff. I don't know how. She said she was looking for a technical analyst (at best, I'm like a business analyst), so we both laughed.

"I was wondering why they sent you to me. I know what you do, what you're about, and what you're capable of."

All I could tell her was 'thank you for the shortest and most honest interview I've ever had'. She said she would be contacting my contracting company to find out how this disconnect happened, and wished me well on my search.

I got on the elevator, looked up, and said 'I got it'.

The former city youth now Yuppie
I really don't know what else to say other than I have another friend being transformed-either slowly against his will or making a conscious decision to lose himself. Either way, it's sad. This guy moved out here a couple of years after I did, because I was 'doing so well', I had my own existence, and seemed a little bit happier (really?) than in college. Now he went and got married, hung up his Players Card and has become damn near unrecognizable. Want the last example? It's all about the Panera Bread, baby. I went to dinner at his new house, or I was on my way to dinner at his house, off the highway, when I got a text asking me to pick up bread at a place that is nowhere near his house...in rush hour traffic! Yup, so I went to go get this magical 3-cheese loaf when I start to snap. Rush hour traffic plus backtracking added to something I could care less about while realizing I'm about to pay some stupid amount of money for bread ?(it's #@$#ing bread, I can get a loaf of wheat bread for 88 cents at the grocery store, which is on the way to his house!) makes me beyond agitated.
So I get to this godforsaken place for bread and the girl behind the counter is yakking away to her cankle-ridden friend about going to a pool later on. Hello, paying customer with cash in hand right here. Apparently the playoff beard got me noticed by the manager in the back, who asked if she could help me. Is this the dumbest question out there in the customer service world? No, don't help me, just let me stand here like a moron. Can I see the gluten-free menu (at a Panera Bread??!!! Reason #1 why I couldn't work there)? I asked the manager how much? 'On the house' she said, as the nitwit behind the counter was trying to talk over her to tell me she could ring up my order. 'On the house', one more time, with nitwit asking why it was free. If you've ever seen one woman shoot daggers at another woman without saying 'DUH', you are missing out on one of life's great pleasures. Because that's what happened. Sweet, free bread, now I know what the immigrants getting off the boat at Ellis Island must've been greeted with. Back to traffic. After this damn near hour long trek for flour, egg, baking powder and salt (yup, bread) I get to my buddy's house. To which his Mom greets me with 'your beard looks stupid'. Gee, thanks. 'You could stand to lose some weight.' Where am I, my GramGram's house? I thought these kind of insults were only allowed to be hurled by family. I stand corrected.
After a few more barbs, 'you can't go looking like that to an interview, you look homeless', I got to help move the new furniture around. Suffice to say, I was put to work. Hey, at least I finally got a beer, and my friends wife was kind enough to recognize me getting pummeled like a pinata on Cinco de Mayo.
Why am I sad? Because my buddy used to stand up for himself, not give a crap about every mundane detail, because things would always get handled. Now? Let's worry about $6 bread (no it was not the MarbleRye from Seinfeld), the table has to be centered exactly under the light (with a damn measuring tape?!), the TV has to be put on the new stand, even though you're returning it in a day. My superstitions are dumb. Really? Let's discuss that, shall we?
Syracuse winning the national title? Same shirt, socks and shoes worn for all games, no washing. Rib stains, mustard stains and all stretched out on the shirt? You betcha? Did a freshman win Most Outstanding Player for only the 3rd time in the tourney's history? Yup.
Pats 1st Super Bowl win..did I move from my spot on the couch the entire game? Nope. Biggest upset in the history of the game up until that point? Yup.
Wanted to win a fantasy football title (shadup, it's my blog, and I'm proving my point), did I grow my goatee to an astronomical ridiculous fullness? Yup. Did I win, not one, but two championships? Why yes, yes I did.
Now, the playoff beard. Will it work? I have no idea. But I will say that a #4 seed is in the finals for game 7, and I sure would like them to win.
Am I superstitious? I guess so. You know what else? Who cares! If it works in my mind then it's true, isn't that the whole point of believing in something?
My buddy no longer believes in things other than Crate & Barrel and interest rates. Sad. If that's what being an adult is, count me out.

It will be discussed....later

So it's not even been 24 hours, and the best thought I have after landing, the one that keeps me smiling, is moving back.

The question now is how? How much $ is it going to cost me? Where do I move to?
As to the reasons, there are many.

I miss my Mom. I even miss my brother. I miss the rest of my family, I miss my friends, I miss not having a Dunkin' Donuts within a stones throw. I miss this kid:


Yes, that is a Run DMC t-shirt (and it's awesome!)

As for my friend back east and her being a part of the decision making process: Nyet. Nope. No more. Can't happen. She definitely doesn't want to be a part of that process, and I understand it. That puts a lot of pressure on someone, and what happens if something didn't work out, couldn't I blame her? In theory, yes, yes I could. But I won't. This is my call, and it's the one that makes me smile, I know it would be a challenge that I think I'm ready for. She's not in the process, it wouldn't be right.

I will have to make a decision within the next couple of days, because that's only fair to my roommate. So I'd be looking at the end of July/middle of August. I've got things to think about, but it's kind of exciting. I'm still a little bit wired from the trip.

Know anyone that wants to drive across the country in that end of July/middle of August time frame? You know just in case I decide to make this official (I believe decision day will be on this coming Tuesday)

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Now playing: Weezer - Troublemaker
via FoxyTunes

Live from Logan Airport

And I don't want to leave.....I just walked up to the E Terminal concourse/food court, saw a Wok & Roll and got hit with a wave of not wanting to leave.

I had such a blast last night hanging out with my boy Jay, his wife and my Godson and then hanging out with my cousin Bob this morning that part of me wants to leave the airport and not go back to Denver.

I will explain all of this later, but as bad as this trip started off, it ended quite well, I miss my people, they miss me, and I get the funny feeling if I think about this deeply that the only answer is to come back. Well, you can never go home again, but you can make a decent life for yourself and know the surrounding area.

more to follow later tonight.

more fun than one person should be allowed...

And if you can't read the sarcasm dripping off of that headline, I can only ask you if we've ever met? So what have I been up to in my last 36 hours? Oh, doozy after doozy.

I will not be talking about Friday night, at least not yet, as it's still swirling around my head, and that turbine needs to slow the hell down before I say anything. Or if I will say anything at all. Some things need to be kept private, and I will be teetering on whether or not that stays on the 'Nunya List'. I will say that the poor puppy that was shaking due to the thunder and lightning was sad and I felt bad, but doggy tranquilizers worked, I think.

Yesterday was spent taking an hour nap (required) and then meeting up with my brother. Why meet up with him? Easy-I wanted to help him with my Mother's debacle of a living situation and/or moving calamity. When I stated earlier that I think she's a hoarder, I'm not kidding. She's moved into her new place, there's crap everywhere. Her old place still has stuff, all sorts of stuff, in it. Three closets are still half full. And there is still the matter of the crappy hutch. And stuff in the basement. So my brother and I cleaned up some stuff in the old apartment, chucking plastic tubs and a bunch of other little things she won't even notice, including about 3 dozen plastic caps (stupid cats)...why keep these things, just throw things out. Then my brother and I went down to the basement and loaded up my rental car with stuff in the trunk to take to her storage area. Have I mentioned yet how much I LOVE the HUMIDITY??? Good grief, I don't miss this crap at all, definitely would go in the 'Con' column if I was keeping score on moving back here. When we got to the storage area I noticed that my rental car got sideswiped while I was in Medford..lovely. Well, at least it was on the same quarter panel/door that was already dinged up and I can fudge that whole thing.

After that whole thing was done I went and saw my brother's new place. It's on the 3rd floor above a bar and has a laundrymat next door, but it's in one shady neighborhood.

I left my brother's place and headed to my Pops old Elks Lodge after being peppered with phone calls. So it was nice to see some old friendly faces, faces that I will see on Monday. It was fun for me to hear how much they all missed the old guy, and they know I do, too. They were asking questions about why I would come back, and my Pops old friend Mo (Maureen) told me, "You're a sweet kid, but you can't fix anyone", and oh how right she is. I don't want to fix anyone, and I know I can't. After a few beers I decided to head back down to my Aunt's house, caught the end of the Red Sox game and then there it was, a small slice of heaven. Now, this is not a knock or a slight at any of the other places I've slept, but when a nice comfy pull out couch is made up for you, well, I just dove right in and got a full 8 hours of sleep. And I only woke up once after my arm fell asleep. The other places I've slept have been great for the offers, but a faux bed is better than a couch or even a motel.

So today I get to see my GramGram and later on my Godson. Glad I got some rest, and even though the weather isn't so great, I'm looking forward to seeing everyone today, and then tomorrow is the golf tournament!

the shaking postscript

so an interesting last 24 hours have passed, and like 36 since my last post. All I can say is that sometimes I think we all say things, truly mean those things, and the world feels the need to prove you wrong.
My last post wasn't to say 'whoa is me', it was meant to vent. So on to the details (mad props to my peoples soon enough):

After I woke up, with a whopping 5 hours of broken sleep, and still mad as hell, I got to thinking what was I doing back here. Like really what the hell is my motivation for trying to come back here? Well, maybe the answers will just keep popping up. I got picked up by the kid (if he was a day over 21 I'd be shocked) from Enterprise. He tried to make smalltalk, and I obliged, it wasn't his fault for my lack of sleep or bad mood. Got to the rental place, filled out my paperwork, and on my way to my interview I went.
So here's something hilarious about my interview-it was in the same office park as where I had an interview last September. And it was right next to the Chili's I quit/got fired from back in college. My interview was supposed to be a lunch interview, but when I showed up (10 minutes early-perfect!) I was told that it couldn't happen. It's noon now and I haven't eaten anything since 6 the night before. Oh goody.

The Interview
Hindsight is a great thing for a great many reasons. I will grant anyone that sometimes decisions need to be made quickly and with the best info possible, but others you can have roll around the old noggin' every once in awhile. I wasn't thrilled with the interview. The guy barely could look me in the eye. And while the interview lasted 45 minutes, he spent 30 talking about himself and his accomplishments, the size of his commission checks (really, I was waiting for him to say 'excuse me while I whip this out', I was laughing-on the inside). Now I don't begrudge most anyone on their success, at least not until they are looking for me to congratulate them. He mentioned that the owner doesn't like facial hair (twice!), that if I were to speak to a certain type of candidate they would appreciate a clean-shaven person as well. Let's put all the cards on the table-the playoff beard ain't going anywhere until said playoffs are over. Second, I have no idea what my amount of facial hair growth has to do or correlate to my ability to do my job. Third, I'm not trying to be a firefighter or the DH for the Yankees, so the beard stays. Lastly, me without facial hair makes me look like two things, both not good-1)a thumb and 2)a chubby 14 year old. I'm all set, thanks.
Then we talked about the job, what the day-to-day entails. Mind you, this is a staffing company with no CRM system, it's all in this guy's head. He wants someone to make between 100-150 outbound calls a day. The base is $36K. The commission plan is uncapped, tiered and I could potentially make a lot of money. However, the commission usually takes a quarter after a sale. So make a sale in July, no money until October, more likely November. No insurance for a year (with the laws in Massachusetts, I'm curious how that is legal?), so there were things to think about. He told me to think it over and call him in a few days. Was this a job offer? It didn't sound like it, but it kinda did.

Well, after waking up this morning, I will be telling him 'thanks but no'. My reasons will be mostly about the job itself. If I wasn't willing to take a job in downtown Denver that wanted me to make 40-50 calls/day last summer, why would I move across the country to triple my outbound phone calls? And sit in a cube? Then there is the more important thing-I don't think I would do well working with this guy or for him. And honestly, if you want me to come work for you, tell me, not that you've looked over my background and you're thinking I could be a fit. Either I am or I'm not, no wishy-washy terms.

So what happened after the interview? I went to lunch, at the same Chili's I got fired from/quit, and then went to the Barnes & Noble next door to get an idea, any idea. Maybe something would strike me for anything. Well, after heading up to the business section, and looking at how many "How to build an organization" books, etc., I went back downstairs and out to my rental car. I called my contracting company in Denver, because I hadn't heard if the company I interviewed with last Friday wanted to see me again. Left a voicemail. Then I called my Uncle Jack and got blown off, he couldn't possibly be bothered. So much for family.
I went across the street to the mall and sat there. I wondered why I am here. Then it dawned on me that I didn't know where I was sleeping that night. I can't afford to stay in a motel every night.
So I called my Uncle Bob (interesting note, thanks to my friend Veronica-aren't all Uncle Bob's awesome?) and asked if he'd like to have the company of his nephew for a few days. He said yes (you like me, you really really like me!). And then my phone blew up.
My buddy Gary was kind enough to text me and tell me that we were hanging out to watch Game 1 (don't get me started) and I could crash at his place. Sweet!
Then I had other friends ask me what I was up to this weekend. Suffice to say, I'm covered on sleeping arrangements.
And then the job stuff started happening. I went to my Aunt's house, and she said dinner will be ready soon. Home cooked food? Yes!!! I put my phone on silent, because I don't like to interrupt family time. I'm weird, I know. Well I got a call from another company that may or may not want to talk to me about a Project Manager/Business Analyst role for a Non-Profit organization. He left a voicemail. Did I mention my boy Jay works at this company and passed along my resume? That guy rules. I called him back, it was the guy's office line, left him a voicemail.
I woke up this morning, called him again and left another message. He called back and will be putting it in front of someone else and I will need to call him on Monday, this is a damn good thing. It's a req. that's been out there for awhile, and they are looking for someone with my varied skillset. Face facts, it's nice to be wanted.
Then Uncle Jack got my resume in the mail yet emailed me his response to it (you have no idea how infuriating this is to me...he had an email address all along???) and pretty much blew me off again. Gee, thanks buddy. No worries at all.
Another buddy of mine from college responded to an inquiry of mine about a role at the same company he works and told me he was on it and will see what he can do.
And yet one more phone call by another old friend who gave me some places to look where they have a serious contact or two.

And it hit me-maybe my family doesn't know how to interact with me anymore and show how they feel, and that's okay. But my friends? I have no doubt how they feel. It's in the cards, I'm feeling pretty damn good about my ideas when it comes to work and being here.

Now I'm about to get in my car to go hang out with one of my favorite people, and this could be interesting.....stay tuned, more details to follow.

So mad I'm shaking...

Where do I start? I got off the plane this afternoon 25 minutes early, and pretty much ever since my boy Jay picked me up this trip back to Boston has turned into shit. I was looking forward to sitting down and typing out a nice long blog about what I've seen in the Stanley Cup Finals and how the NBA Finals were going to shape up (C's in 6 is my pick, by the way), but instead, I'm so mad right now I can't believe I have the ability to type without convulsing.

So what happened? Easy, my brother turned out to be exactly who I thought he was. I thought I would get to see my Godson between me landing and meeting up with my Mom, but I was just being hopeful. Not mad about that at all. How can I be? My boy Jay has been there for me every step of the way, and I've leaned on him so much I feel like sometimes I take advantage of him. Anyways, I called my brother to see if I could hang at his new place for a bit instead of milling around my Mom's work (it's a damn grocery store), and was told, "uh, that won't work out I've kinda got a girl coming over". I'm fucking family!!!!! It's not like I live down the street and need to use your shower! I just flew in, from Denver, for our Pops golf tournament. And you can't open your door because you have some skank coming over? Gee, thanks. Now I don't wonder why we haven't spoken in 7 weeks. Jackass. I want to know who hijacked my family, like, now!

Well, since that wasn't happening, Jay was kind enough to hang out with me and get some apps and beer at T-Bones (hello, gutbomb) and then drop me off as my Mom was getting off work. Before I go any further, let me preface what I'm about to say with the following-I'm a Mama's Boy. I love my Mom, and would do anything within my power for her, and if anyone ever messes with her, I fear what my wrath would do to them-now that that's out of the way, she's a hoarder. She needs help. And I have no clue how to give it. She just moved into a new place, and there's shit everywhere. She isn't completely out of her old place, and she was supposed to be out on 6/1. And it's junk. Crap no one would want, except at maybe a flea market. I love her, she's so tiny and so sweet, but I don't really know of a way to help her. And of course, she wants me to move back here.

So my options were to sleep in her old apartment on the floor (with two cats) or kick her out of her own bed in her new place and have her sleep on the floor in her old place (the new place has carpeting on the stairs and in the bedroom). Now how are either of those options? So where am I typing this from? Hello Budget 6 Motel off of Exit 5W in lovely Nashua, NH! Yup, tonight I'm staying in a $51 motel that I can't afford because no one in my immediate family could communicate with me. And I'm seriously contemplating moving back near this? Hey, at least in Denver I get to hang up the phone, outta sight, outta mind.

My Mom was crying as we pulled up to this Motel, because I told her I couldn't do it. I have an interview luncheon in 13 hours that could potentially change my career direction and where I'm going to live. I don't mind that the burden of 'gotoguy' in my family is on my shoulders, but I would've like a little heads up. Mom thinks she's going to be a reason I won't move back, that she's ruined my trip. She hasn't ruined my trip, not even remotely. I'm so pissed right now I won't be able to sleep for a few hours, but I will knock this interview tomorrow out of the park and leave no doubt.

As for my brother, I have no clue what to do. Apparently every family has one, and he's mine. Lucky me. I have no idea how we come from the same DNA pool, but I'm sure the birth certificates say so. Regarding my Mom, I don't know what to do, I will help her when I can while I'm here, but I really don't know what to do. I'm not looking for suggestions, either, I'm just trying to figure out where the hell I'm going to stay the rest of this trip, because I cannot afford another $300 on this trip, with the flight and the rental car already booked.

Sorry for the rant, but it's my blog and this is a better place than most to blow off some steam.