So in the last 36 hours I've been turned down for one and a half jobs. Why the half? Oh, because my contact at that company may be able to smooth over my interview, as the HR person misinterpreted my answers. Regarding HR people, except my buddy Shane, the rest should all burn in hell with a 4 yr old asking 'Why is that?' on a continuous loop while some form of continuous Prodigy-wannabe band plays mixed in with The Carpenters. I swear on all that I know they do nothing to help people get into a company, merely sit there playing wack-a-candidate with a giant binder of resumes off of careerbuilder. In other words, they suck.
The misinterpretation? The guy asked me what I hated to do. I said cold-calling, I hate the phone. He took it as I hate the phone.....listen to the whole answer dipwad! Better yet, I "don't handle stress well". The stress of a phone interview? Bitch, please. I've been out of work for 13 months you don't think I can handle your mundane questions? Get bent. Don't hire me, but don't piss on my head and tell me it's raining, either. If I don't fit, I can live with that, but not that crap.
Oh, but lucky me I am supposed to have an interview on Friday with a cell phone company. Just trying to get my foot in the door somewhere and get a paycheck. My mood wouldn't be so bad if the unemployment office didn't just jack me around. They apparently have made a clerical error, and surprise surprise, it wasn't in my favor. Yet when I asked this same question to a person last week, I was told everything was all set and that this situation wouldn't happen...FAIL. Can I get her job? She's clearly incompetent. Oh, bother.
I could tell you about all the drama I've been getting phone calls lately, by why bore you with the meandering details of why I ought to open up my own call-in show, call it something ethical like 'Eat the damn gun already' or maybe something easier on the ears, like, 'The DUHHHHH Show'. Who knows, I just may be on to something.
But I will not leave you, dear reader on the end of a bad blog. Nay, nay. Not today. I got my phone replaced, after the guys at Sprint were kind enough to check it out and realize that the 'contact points' were somehow dislodged so I wasn't getting the full capacity of my phone. No longer, I'm wired now!
Happy Tuesday (or as I like to say, Whoop-di-damn-doo!)
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Now playing: Soul Asylum - Misery
via FoxyTunes
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Cleanup, aisle 12
Alright, so it hasn't been much of a busy week since my last post, but I've been going over a bunch of things in my head (in the good way, not the clutter my mind kinda way that I've been doing), and decided to do a bit of a hodgepodge today. So for today I'm going to give you a little something on the following: Walmart Employees, "Active Listening Skills", CU and its potentially awful upcoming football season as well as why the whole Athletic Department needs to be wiped clean, how to fix the Denver Nuggets, why the NFL is dumber than a Walmart employee for thinking 18 games is a good idea, the Ground Zero Mosque and finally the whole misguided notion of tolerance. Time to get to it, buckle up!
Walmart Employees
This notion that I should get a part-time job is laughable to me. And why? Because customer service is vastly underrated and is damn near a lost form. How do I know? I left a kid at Walmart on Friday night shaking his head confused and apologetic. Let it be known that I really didn't want to talk to anyone and went to the self-checkout for a reason. I didn't want to deal with the public. Yes, I put myself out there to potentially run into a dumbass, but it was Friday night, and me being so epically cool I was home. But I knew I had to pick up some stuff, and despise the Saturday afternoon retail mess that is known by everyone else as 'running errands'. If you could avoid that, wouldn't you? That was my line of thinking, really. So here I am at the self-checkout (I can't think of a bigger misnomer for something right now-political intelligence?) and start to ring up my items. Pretty easy stuff. Still not fast enough for my liking, but I will get over that. I ring up my last item, something I'm about to myself on Front St. for, but they're so damn good, I will recommend something unfathomable to those that know me as someone who loves fat food. My last item was Weight Watchers Mint Ice Cream Sandwiches. Why Weight Watchers, am I trying to lose weight? Hardly. Otherwise I wouldn't have eaten a Patty Melt for lunch yesterday or bolted out of my house at 9:30 for a Frosty last night. It's simple, they are delicious. And I like mint and chocolate. The ice cream part doesn't melt much, either. I'm not like Pacman eating that thing either, I savor the flavor. The fact that it could be considered 'healthy' or 'diet' is hilarious. Picture my chubby ass going to the Weight Watchers part of the freezer section of a Walmart, no less, and if you can't find the humor in that whole scenario, please stop reading this blog forever and ever, you'll never get me. I totally get the irony of the scenario. Anywho-the box of ice cream sammiches had a 'get a $1.00 off this item now' coupon attached to it-sweet! Good tasting 'healthy' ice cream sammiches and a buck off? My lucky freaking day. Until the lovely self-checkout kiosk decided it didn't want to recognize the coupon. Sorry, but if you are willing to sell an item, how about paying attention to a coupon attached and plugging that into the system? Am I asking too much? Or did I just solve a giant logistics issue for WallyWorld (my nickname for this retail albatross)? Well here comes PimplePuss, the brainiac who can't get out of a Friday night shift who apparently washes his face with a rag dipped in used peanut oil. Sorry, but I felt 'shiny' by him standing next to me. I simply told the kid that the system wouldn't accept the coupon, could he take a dollar off my order and I could be on my merry way. I'm thinking that is pretty simple. But bumble the boy wonder decided that he could hit the 'Finish & Pay' button, completely confusing the system. And putting it on pause for a good minute. Now I'm irritated. More so than normal. This is exactly why I went to the self-checkout. "Oh, I guess you'll have to pay, I don't know how this thing works." Wait, what? Why the heck are you the GateKeeper to the self-checkout kiosks if you don't know how these things work? Now some other dipshit high school halfatard comes over to ask what's up and can he help. I asked the same thing again. "Your system won't accept the coupon, can you just take a buck off the order so I can go?"...and he hits the "Finish & Pay" button too. As I was saying 'Please don't hit the "Finish & Pay" button because it puts the system on pause'.....Grrrrrrr. Forget it, I'll pay the buck. "Sorry, sir." Don't be sorry numbnuts, stop touching buttons that you don't know what they do. Christ, I feel sorry for your girlfriend. Foreplay must be like a 4 yr old ripping off a bugs wings. And with that, I was gone, after dummies #1 and 2 got the glare (I love that I took that from Pops, so damn effective) and a overly polite 'Thanks for the help'. And some of my friends think I could work there? I could be shitfaced and be more coherent than those people. Now don't go telling me not to go there. It's close, the stuff is cheap, and if it weren't for the morons working there apparently trying out for the Olympic in the way team, all would be fine. Besides, where else can you go-for free-and watch so many barn animals walking around dragging their morbidly obese kids around while screaming 'No, you're not getting that today, or ever!'? That kind of humor is awesome, and makes me thank my lucky stars for the lovely parenting I got.
It happened again last night at King Soopers. That's a grocery store chain out here. I needed milk (cereal for breakfast), eggs and bagels. Oh, and cream cheese, because that's what goes on bagels. Butter on toast, cream cheese on bagels. 4 items. One register open. No problem. Except one minor problem. Guy in front of me was talking about MMA choke holds (how about you put one on yourself and make the line shorter?) and the guy behind me was twisting the cap of the bottle of Adderall or aspirin without opening it, so the childproof 'teeth' were grinding up against each other. Really? Buddy, if that's is asprin/Aleve/Advil/Tylenol how is that not annoying? We have to be 6 deep in this line, when out of nowhere another checker said he could take whomever over at stand 11. I bolt. The kid didn't say next in line. As I'm 2 steps from getting my stuff rung up and then out of the land of the duh, I hear "Since I was next in line I get to go 1st, right?"...WHAT freaking planet am I on? At this point I don't care, so go right ahead buddy. He looks at me and asks, "Isn't that how you see it?" I'll mention here that it was this overweight Affliction T-shirt wearing MMA fan, his backwards hat homeboy (nice cheap skivvies pal, how 'bout you pull up your pants, thanks) and the obligatory fat friend, complete with backwards hat, oversized jean shorts, beady eyes that are too close together and the high socks-no need to see any skin, and I appreciate that. I felt like I was looking at 3 extras for the obligatory "don't do drugs" episode of the George Lopez show. Central casting at its finest. "I really don't care, I just want to be done," is all I say. He tried to inflate his chest and get all hardcore on me. Really? In my head I asked this guy if he ever saw the movie 'Falling Down' but knew the answer was no. He asked me what I said, and I replied with the same answer. Are you really trying to get gangsta at King freaking Soopers while you get a RockStar Energy drink and two big cans pineapple juice rung up? Meanwhile I notice that Fatty HatBackwards is eyeballing me. Fantastic. So I stare back. One of us will blink, and I'm either too exhausted, frustrated, tired or all 3 to care. He finally quit looking at me (awkward). So that little situation goes away when they go away with me saying 'have a good night guys'. The poor kid ringing up my 4 items asks me "what was up with that?" At least I'm not nuts, someone else noticed it, too. I told him I was too dumb to be scared, and he chuckled. And with that, I went home.
"Active Listening Skills"
Considering I haven't watched any George Carlin in awhile, I'm almost surprised at this one. Active listening skills is another bullshit way of saying 'hearing'. There is a vast difference between listening and hearing. Hearing, for me, includes some value of comprehension. So I asked a trusted friend of mine for 5 minutes on Wednesday afternoon. It turned into a 2 hour infomercial. I wanted to thank this guy for his support, and to tell him that while I appreciate his honesty in telling me I should be an entrepreneur, I don't have the stones for it right now. I've been out of any type of work environment for about 13 months now, and I need some structure. No one wants to be micro-managed, but I would like some structure. I've been told what a great listener this guy is. Mostly, by him. 3 different times I was asked if I wanted him to be my mentor or personal coach. Uh, no. I have had 3 coaches in my lifetime that I loved and believed in, would run thru a wall for. As corny as it sounds, it goes God, Pops and Coach MacDonald (G$, remember the old guy, he was awesome!). Other than that, I have a hard time trusting anyone in that capacity. And I've seen how this guy operates. He wants his hooks on me, has for awhile now. I currently have a small business deal with him where I get 10% of any business I bring him. But I'm not on the hook. I owe him nothing. He wants to be a Captain. If you have no idea what I'm speaking of, go watch 'The Sopranos' or 'Donnie Brasco'. My roommate is on the hook to him, and it has messed up their friendship, maybe irreparably. All this is back story, as for the 2 hours, other than being asked if I was asking him to be my mentor (again, NO!), I was told to stop watching TV, quit surfing the internet, read my Bible, read books, listen to self-motivation tapes/CDs/podcasts (which is the other biggest misnomer, if it were self-motivation I'd be listening to my own voice, right?) and then give him my iPod so he could wipe it clean and load it up with motivational speakers. I cannot be any clearer than this-I do not lack for motivation. And there is no way on God's green earth I'm giving anyone my iPod to load with anything. The iPod that just got me outta Dodge two weeks ago and to Kansas City to Chicago thru Lincoln,NE and back to Denver. No Effing Way. That piece of technology and me have a bond. What's my take from this meeting? That while he may be a great listener, he certainly wasn't hearing me. I know sometimes people don't want to hear certain things. But I would like to think that I know me better than most people do. I know what makes me tick. And if I state that I need some structure and an office environment, that doesn't mean, to me, that I'm looking to work from home and find deals for someone else. So I take the 'advice' with a grain of salt and put my spin on it. Should my TV be on in the afternoon? Probably not. Should I engross myself with spiritual readings? That's not a horrible idea, either. But quit watching sports? Surfing the internet? Have we met? If I kept off the internet how would I be up to date on certain things? I love reading and writing about sports. Give that up? What if that is a potential career for me? Or a hobby? And in case no one knows (and he does) if it weren't for me being online all the time, my fantasy baseball and football teams would suck. And my ability to be lucky and informed helped keep my car running-I paid for new tires, an oil change, new brakes and rotors with money won in fantasy football. So yeah, not quitting that. Mostly because it keeps some very old friendships fresh and an excuse to talk to each other. Most of my friends have lives that revolve around their families and shuttling kids all over the place, or going in a thousand different directions at once. So if we chat about sports and then get to ask how each other is doing, that's great. I could care less what the catalyst is, I'm in touch with people that I love, who cares if they call me to ask who the 3rd RB for the Donkeys is what they started our conversation with?
CU Football
Oh, it's going to be ugly. Maxim magazine just ranked this program the 8th worst in the FBS. A top 10 horrid program? Uh, I'm going to go with yes, why yes they are. I want to know how and why, though. I know everyone in Boulder thinks Head Coach Dan Hawkins is the reason, but I beg to differ. I'm not going to create excuses for the coach, but I will say he was brought in on 12/16/2005 to clean up the debacles of Gary Barnett and even Rick Neuheisel. While those 2 guys scandals were different, they have both had to have had an impact on boosters, alumni and recruiting. Think of Hawkins going into a kids home and having a potential recruit's Mom asking you about your predecessor's actions towards women. You know the spiral can be quick and cutting. I can't sit here and tell you Hawkins has been without errors. Starting his own son at QB is a no-win situation. A mistake that could've been avoided by directing his son to another program. That would have been the only way Hawkins wins. Otherwise it plays out the way it has-his son doesn't have the arm strength to play major D-1 football, certainly not in the Big 12. And there's no way in hell his home life is going to be any good by taking on his son and not playing him. That house would be awfully cold when it comes time to pass the potatoes around the kitchen table, wouldn't you think?
I'm not saying to give Hawkins too big of a break. He's going on his 5th season, so he's had ample time to put his program in place and people can see his recruiting. He's missed on a lot. He's hit on few. Does that mean he is a horrible coach? Not to me. He's in the big time now, and it hasn't gone well. Well, record wise and going to a bowl game 1/4 years, not so great. But what is his graduation rate? Are they in the news for negative things players have done, such as potential rape or sexual assault, point shaving, or even academic fraud? Not that I've seen or heard. So I ask the people of Boulder (most of which I loathe-they come off as entitled, as if there is some 100 years of excellence) to define for me what a good program looks like. It is definitely possible, and I have no idea if Hawkins is the man for the job. I think he plays his contract out and is gone. I see this team winning 3 or 4 games, with the game on October 2nd vs. Georgia being a bloodbath and where the calls for Hawkins head to start, or at least get much much louder.
Maybe the Athletic Director listens, but he probably shouldn't. Because if he does he might want to think about firing himself. This AD has made some moves that has me scratching my scalp. He's paid off a men's and women's basketball coach. They've decided to move to the Pac-10. Their basketball teams play in an arena that is beyond tiny. They want to play with the biggest and most drawing teams in the country, and by sheer numbers the USC's and Texas' of the world have more of it. CU doesn't have 100,000 kids going to school, like Texas, Nebraska, Washington or even Arizona. Yet they want to compete. How do you do that? Especially with a ticked off and tapped alumni? I didn't say I had the answers, but don't these types of questions need to be asked? And what happens if in their first game of the year, against in-state rival CSU they lose, again? I see that happening, and I admit my bias. I like the way the Rams run the program. Maybe it's that I don't particularly care for Boulder. That's possible. Maybe it's my interactions oh so many years ago recruiting for a company I worked for. The kids from Boulder, overall, questioned my credibility and why my company wouldn't just hand them a job. I found that to be very funny, since I already had a job and they were trying to get one. Not a good way to get in my good graces. But that's in the past. This year, this game? I've got my idea who's winning. Maybe the AD in Boulder will take a good hard look at how the department has been run. The thinking I've read is that the reason for the move to the Pac-10 is revenue driven. Great. Update the practice facilities, the stadiums, the programs, because there are things to build on. But please, no more severance packages, stop tapping the alumni and boosters for buyout clauses. Start hiring smarter and things could honestly work. As much as I don't like Boulder, it's an environment that is ripe for a program that can start winning and building. No need to go 12-0, just get to .500. Doable, but not under this regime, and not this year. Sorry Boulder, but this year isn't going to be particularly pretty. And you have every right to start asking the difficult questions to your Athletic Department.
Fixing the Nuggets
Can owner Stan Kroenke get a reset button? As it stands today, the 6th man is on the trading block and potentially on the police blotter with an assault charge. The All-Star forward wants out-to potentially play for one of the worst-run franchises in sports, the Knicks. And the starting power forward is hurt and out until who knows how long with yet another knee surgery.
My solution? Easy, blow it up. Name me the salvageable piece? I'll wait. What, old point guard Chauncey Billups? Ha! Mr. Big Shot is bull. He hasn't hit a big shot in 6 years. He has failed to take over when the team needed it.
So how do you do it? Easier said than done. The Nuggets will have to eat money somewhere along the line, but the first deal is to trade Kenyon 'Thug Life' Martin to New Orleans for Pedro Stokjakovic. Injured for injured, salaries almost match. If Stoyo is remotely healthy, he can score 15 pts/game. Martin can potentially play the 4 for New Orleans, make Chris Paul think that they are trying to get pieces and move David West to the 3, a tougher matchup.
Trading JR Smith will be a good luck/good riddance. And for one Carmelo Anthony, to say I'm baffled would be beyond comprehension. Why want out of Denver? The Knicks? Amar'e Stoudamire? Maybe Chris Paul? What am I missing here? The current rumors have Anthony wanting to go to the Knicks or to Houston. Others state that the team is looking to Sacramento, New Jersey or Minnesota. I still don't understand why he wants to leave Denver. Because of his marriage to a former MTV VJ? Denver as a city has stuck by this guy thru a DUI, sulking, not living up to potential, and let us not forget the suspension for the fight he started in NYC. If this team as it stands now were to take the floor, attendance would be low. So 'Melo wants to leave? Fine by me, I will miss the Syracuse alum, but good riddance. He has yet to impose his will on the league or his team. He's had flashes, but someone with his talent should be doing 26/8/3. This past season he came close, pulling a 28/6/3. So he's a bucket better, but he's still not the leader on the team. Yet he wants to be the guy. I know, he's still very young, but if he doesn't want to be here, say goodbye and get some talent back for him. Let's look at the scenarios, and just remember that salaries have to pretty much match up:
New York Knicks: I really don't see a way this happens without a 3rd team. That, taking on Eddy Curry's poison contract, and then there is still $6 Million to come up with. And the Nuggets might want some talent back, like an Anthony Randolph. It's not happening.
Houston Rockets: If the Rockets wanted to give up Luis Scola and Kevin Martin I would do that deal so fast that the front office of Houston would be questioning their own sanity. The salaries almost matchup, and if the Rockets for some reason wanted JR Smith as well then the Nuggets can take on Courtney Lee and Chuck Hayes.
Sacramento Kings: I may be wrong, but I believe the NBA is toying with the idea of a salary floor of $43 Million, and that would mean the Kings could very well be short, by about $2-3 Million. Sacramento isn't giving up Tyreke Evans nor DeMarcus Cousins. But I'm thinking anyone else on this roster is fair game. How about Anthony for Samuel Dalembert, Carl Landry and Jason Thompson? I'd do that deal if I'm Denver, Landry and Dalembert are off the cap after this season, Thompson has promise and virtually all the cap relief that Anthony leaving would provide if he were to opt out of his deal with be made with those 2 contracts ending. Want JR Smith? Fine, the Nuggets can take on Beno Udrih.
New Jersey: The Nets would have to send Troy Murphy, Anthony Morrow and Quintin Ross back to Denver. Might not be horrid, as Morrow can knock down a jumpshot, but so far the least 'ooomph' of any deal. Want JR Smith? Then it goes to Murphy and Devin Harris, and I don't see NJ handing over the keys to Jordan Farmar.
Minnesota: This would have to be another 3 team deal. Because the only salary matchups for the Timberwolves include Michael Beasley, Jonny Flynn, Kevin Love, Corey Brewer, Wesley Johnson and Martell Webster in some combination, like a 4 to 1 deal. Don't really see this one happening.
My own personal favorite, the LA Clippers: give the Nuggets Chris Kaman and Blake Griffin. I know Clippers owner Donald Sterling isn't kicking in the $1 Million shortfall, so if DeAndre Jordan has to come along, so be it. If the Clippers want JR Smith (why they would with Eric Gordon would be beyond normal thought) then it's Anthony/Smith for Kaman/Griffin/Randy Foye/Mardy Collins (oh the irony if Collins would be involved in a trade for Anthony). Hey new GM of the Nuggets, get on this!
Dear NFL Owners
You're coming off as stupid. An 18 game schedule? Why? I am about to state something that will shock-I don't want 18 games. As a matter of fact, the NFL is starting to piss me off. Why? Because they are starting to invade my life just a wee bit too much. Part of the joy of football, be it college or pro, is that is on 1 or 2 days. Now? The NFL this year will be on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Even me, unemployed, thinks that this is overkill. I liked it when the NFL was on Thursdays only on Thanksgiving. Now instead of 2 games on Turkey Day, it's 3. And I doubt I'm the only one. Heck, college football is on all sorts of nights. Who can keep track of all this stuff? Stop jacking around with my week, NFL. Really, like now. I love the fact that I have Sunday's all to myself and watching your fantastic product. But you as a collective group are gettin' greedy. And greed is one of the 7 deadly sins. Another one of those sins is gluttony, and with your own network, when is enough actually enough? You don't need any more money. Why, so the Krafts and Joneses can get more money? They're fine, their kids are fine, and their grandkids' future kids will be A-Okay, you can't lose that kind of wealth. The main reason I state all these things is because you are putting people at more risk. You are putting more families at risk. You're putting certain records none of us want to see broken at risk. But the most important thing is the health. And I'm not even talking the knees, ankles and shoulders of players. I'm talking the brains. Are you really willing to add 150-200 car crashes a year to players career? Because there are usually 75-100 plays/game and those are like a car crash. If the current average career in the NFL is 3 years and dwindling, what makes you think that number will increase by adding games? It won't. And since you've only discovered the damage that all these hits to the noggin can cause, long-term, why would you want to add to the potential damage? This is all a money thing. I am only hopeful that no matter how big of a piece of the potential larger pie these owners offer that the players union stands up and says, "Hell, no!". It's not worth it.
Okay, my take on sports is gone for the day....but I have one last thing. This notion is out there, and I liken it to the idea of fairness and playing by a certain set of rules, and throwing out words just because one group or side doesn't get their way.
The word is tolerance. I won't call it a myth. I will ask the following-what is the line for tolerance? How tolerant do I have to be? I'd like to think I'm forgiving and willing to listen to certain ideas, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with them, does it? How long do I have to listen to someone ramble on that I'm a bigot because I don't agree with someone's position? Where's my line? Do I have to wait until they threaten my belief system? My family? How about taking away a whole gender's ability to feel pleasure? Or plant a victory flag on my brother's grave? When does it end? In case you haven't figured it out, I'm talking about that building that a certain group wants to rip down and build up something else a little too close to home. Ground Zero, as it's known, will soon be marked by the 9th anniversary of the most deadliest attack on US soil. The freedom of religion argument is bunk-I could care less what religion you practice, but I sure as hell care where you practice it. I wouldn't recommend the Catholic church start raising buildings anywhere near an elementary school, that's for damn sure (full disclosure, I'm a recovering Catholic). So why build a Mosque there? Hmm, could it be to show the rest of the Muslim world that this awesome country can be brow-beaten until we say uncle? Or maybe we can practice Sharia Law? If that's the case, then ladies, run. Last time I checked Muslims (not all, but a certain sect) believe that you must cut off a woman's clitoris so that they can somehow remain faithful to their future husband. Are you kidding me? Hey, the Bible is jacked up, but I don't remember reading anything about female mutilation in my pop-up version of said book. So again I ask, where is the line? When do I get to stand up for my rights, my family, my friends...hell, even my country and say enough already? I'm not saying you can't build a Mosque, but to build one that close to Ground Zero starts throwing up all sorts of red flags. I'm stating that to do it there shows poor taste, to put it politely. And if you follow any form of history, you know that building a Mosque on a piece of land that has been 'conquered', you know that there is the potential that that is exactly what this building is all about. Sorry, but I'm done cow-towing to other groups, tired of being told how different we are, tired of being told who has and who doesn't and who's to blame for it. Where I come from, you put your pants on and get something done, you don't blame someone into shame to get your way. Even my own President is getting twisted, but that's probably because he doesn't even know who he is (another story for another time). If you have any friends in England or in France, I'd start asking questions. It wasn't in a day that their infrastructure was overrun, it was slow and over a long period of time. I'm tolerant to let you live your life so long as you don't tread on mine. But if you want to call me a bigot or intolerant, you best be ready to back those words up. I'm intolerant of stupid, as if you couldn't tell by reading this blog. I have no patience for it. Yes, we all do dumb things, but there is a different between dumb and stupid. I shouldn't need to point it out. As for my intolerance on the Mosque, I'll form my rebuttal in the form of a question-don't you think those who are strident in building this, ahem, place of worship are a bit intolerant of the feelings of those who lost a family member on 9/11? Think about that one and get back to me. You'll probably surprise yourself. I know, crazy enough that it just might work.
Happy Sunday to you, and yours. Get out and enjoy the weather if you can.
And get your rest, because evil never sleeps....and the stupids always seem to come in an endless supply.
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Now playing: NaS - I Can
via FoxyTunes
Walmart Employees
This notion that I should get a part-time job is laughable to me. And why? Because customer service is vastly underrated and is damn near a lost form. How do I know? I left a kid at Walmart on Friday night shaking his head confused and apologetic. Let it be known that I really didn't want to talk to anyone and went to the self-checkout for a reason. I didn't want to deal with the public. Yes, I put myself out there to potentially run into a dumbass, but it was Friday night, and me being so epically cool I was home. But I knew I had to pick up some stuff, and despise the Saturday afternoon retail mess that is known by everyone else as 'running errands'. If you could avoid that, wouldn't you? That was my line of thinking, really. So here I am at the self-checkout (I can't think of a bigger misnomer for something right now-political intelligence?) and start to ring up my items. Pretty easy stuff. Still not fast enough for my liking, but I will get over that. I ring up my last item, something I'm about to myself on Front St. for, but they're so damn good, I will recommend something unfathomable to those that know me as someone who loves fat food. My last item was Weight Watchers Mint Ice Cream Sandwiches. Why Weight Watchers, am I trying to lose weight? Hardly. Otherwise I wouldn't have eaten a Patty Melt for lunch yesterday or bolted out of my house at 9:30 for a Frosty last night. It's simple, they are delicious. And I like mint and chocolate. The ice cream part doesn't melt much, either. I'm not like Pacman eating that thing either, I savor the flavor. The fact that it could be considered 'healthy' or 'diet' is hilarious. Picture my chubby ass going to the Weight Watchers part of the freezer section of a Walmart, no less, and if you can't find the humor in that whole scenario, please stop reading this blog forever and ever, you'll never get me. I totally get the irony of the scenario. Anywho-the box of ice cream sammiches had a 'get a $1.00 off this item now' coupon attached to it-sweet! Good tasting 'healthy' ice cream sammiches and a buck off? My lucky freaking day. Until the lovely self-checkout kiosk decided it didn't want to recognize the coupon. Sorry, but if you are willing to sell an item, how about paying attention to a coupon attached and plugging that into the system? Am I asking too much? Or did I just solve a giant logistics issue for WallyWorld (my nickname for this retail albatross)? Well here comes PimplePuss, the brainiac who can't get out of a Friday night shift who apparently washes his face with a rag dipped in used peanut oil. Sorry, but I felt 'shiny' by him standing next to me. I simply told the kid that the system wouldn't accept the coupon, could he take a dollar off my order and I could be on my merry way. I'm thinking that is pretty simple. But bumble the boy wonder decided that he could hit the 'Finish & Pay' button, completely confusing the system. And putting it on pause for a good minute. Now I'm irritated. More so than normal. This is exactly why I went to the self-checkout. "Oh, I guess you'll have to pay, I don't know how this thing works." Wait, what? Why the heck are you the GateKeeper to the self-checkout kiosks if you don't know how these things work? Now some other dipshit high school halfatard comes over to ask what's up and can he help. I asked the same thing again. "Your system won't accept the coupon, can you just take a buck off the order so I can go?"...and he hits the "Finish & Pay" button too. As I was saying 'Please don't hit the "Finish & Pay" button because it puts the system on pause'.....Grrrrrrr. Forget it, I'll pay the buck. "Sorry, sir." Don't be sorry numbnuts, stop touching buttons that you don't know what they do. Christ, I feel sorry for your girlfriend. Foreplay must be like a 4 yr old ripping off a bugs wings. And with that, I was gone, after dummies #1 and 2 got the glare (I love that I took that from Pops, so damn effective) and a overly polite 'Thanks for the help'. And some of my friends think I could work there? I could be shitfaced and be more coherent than those people. Now don't go telling me not to go there. It's close, the stuff is cheap, and if it weren't for the morons working there apparently trying out for the Olympic in the way team, all would be fine. Besides, where else can you go-for free-and watch so many barn animals walking around dragging their morbidly obese kids around while screaming 'No, you're not getting that today, or ever!'? That kind of humor is awesome, and makes me thank my lucky stars for the lovely parenting I got.
It happened again last night at King Soopers. That's a grocery store chain out here. I needed milk (cereal for breakfast), eggs and bagels. Oh, and cream cheese, because that's what goes on bagels. Butter on toast, cream cheese on bagels. 4 items. One register open. No problem. Except one minor problem. Guy in front of me was talking about MMA choke holds (how about you put one on yourself and make the line shorter?) and the guy behind me was twisting the cap of the bottle of Adderall or aspirin without opening it, so the childproof 'teeth' were grinding up against each other. Really? Buddy, if that's is asprin/Aleve/Advil/Tylenol how is that not annoying? We have to be 6 deep in this line, when out of nowhere another checker said he could take whomever over at stand 11. I bolt. The kid didn't say next in line. As I'm 2 steps from getting my stuff rung up and then out of the land of the duh, I hear "Since I was next in line I get to go 1st, right?"...WHAT freaking planet am I on? At this point I don't care, so go right ahead buddy. He looks at me and asks, "Isn't that how you see it?" I'll mention here that it was this overweight Affliction T-shirt wearing MMA fan, his backwards hat homeboy (nice cheap skivvies pal, how 'bout you pull up your pants, thanks) and the obligatory fat friend, complete with backwards hat, oversized jean shorts, beady eyes that are too close together and the high socks-no need to see any skin, and I appreciate that. I felt like I was looking at 3 extras for the obligatory "don't do drugs" episode of the George Lopez show. Central casting at its finest. "I really don't care, I just want to be done," is all I say. He tried to inflate his chest and get all hardcore on me. Really? In my head I asked this guy if he ever saw the movie 'Falling Down' but knew the answer was no. He asked me what I said, and I replied with the same answer. Are you really trying to get gangsta at King freaking Soopers while you get a RockStar Energy drink and two big cans pineapple juice rung up? Meanwhile I notice that Fatty HatBackwards is eyeballing me. Fantastic. So I stare back. One of us will blink, and I'm either too exhausted, frustrated, tired or all 3 to care. He finally quit looking at me (awkward). So that little situation goes away when they go away with me saying 'have a good night guys'. The poor kid ringing up my 4 items asks me "what was up with that?" At least I'm not nuts, someone else noticed it, too. I told him I was too dumb to be scared, and he chuckled. And with that, I went home.
"Active Listening Skills"
Considering I haven't watched any George Carlin in awhile, I'm almost surprised at this one. Active listening skills is another bullshit way of saying 'hearing'. There is a vast difference between listening and hearing. Hearing, for me, includes some value of comprehension. So I asked a trusted friend of mine for 5 minutes on Wednesday afternoon. It turned into a 2 hour infomercial. I wanted to thank this guy for his support, and to tell him that while I appreciate his honesty in telling me I should be an entrepreneur, I don't have the stones for it right now. I've been out of any type of work environment for about 13 months now, and I need some structure. No one wants to be micro-managed, but I would like some structure. I've been told what a great listener this guy is. Mostly, by him. 3 different times I was asked if I wanted him to be my mentor or personal coach. Uh, no. I have had 3 coaches in my lifetime that I loved and believed in, would run thru a wall for. As corny as it sounds, it goes God, Pops and Coach MacDonald (G$, remember the old guy, he was awesome!). Other than that, I have a hard time trusting anyone in that capacity. And I've seen how this guy operates. He wants his hooks on me, has for awhile now. I currently have a small business deal with him where I get 10% of any business I bring him. But I'm not on the hook. I owe him nothing. He wants to be a Captain. If you have no idea what I'm speaking of, go watch 'The Sopranos' or 'Donnie Brasco'. My roommate is on the hook to him, and it has messed up their friendship, maybe irreparably. All this is back story, as for the 2 hours, other than being asked if I was asking him to be my mentor (again, NO!), I was told to stop watching TV, quit surfing the internet, read my Bible, read books, listen to self-motivation tapes/CDs/podcasts (which is the other biggest misnomer, if it were self-motivation I'd be listening to my own voice, right?) and then give him my iPod so he could wipe it clean and load it up with motivational speakers. I cannot be any clearer than this-I do not lack for motivation. And there is no way on God's green earth I'm giving anyone my iPod to load with anything. The iPod that just got me outta Dodge two weeks ago and to Kansas City to Chicago thru Lincoln,NE and back to Denver. No Effing Way. That piece of technology and me have a bond. What's my take from this meeting? That while he may be a great listener, he certainly wasn't hearing me. I know sometimes people don't want to hear certain things. But I would like to think that I know me better than most people do. I know what makes me tick. And if I state that I need some structure and an office environment, that doesn't mean, to me, that I'm looking to work from home and find deals for someone else. So I take the 'advice' with a grain of salt and put my spin on it. Should my TV be on in the afternoon? Probably not. Should I engross myself with spiritual readings? That's not a horrible idea, either. But quit watching sports? Surfing the internet? Have we met? If I kept off the internet how would I be up to date on certain things? I love reading and writing about sports. Give that up? What if that is a potential career for me? Or a hobby? And in case no one knows (and he does) if it weren't for me being online all the time, my fantasy baseball and football teams would suck. And my ability to be lucky and informed helped keep my car running-I paid for new tires, an oil change, new brakes and rotors with money won in fantasy football. So yeah, not quitting that. Mostly because it keeps some very old friendships fresh and an excuse to talk to each other. Most of my friends have lives that revolve around their families and shuttling kids all over the place, or going in a thousand different directions at once. So if we chat about sports and then get to ask how each other is doing, that's great. I could care less what the catalyst is, I'm in touch with people that I love, who cares if they call me to ask who the 3rd RB for the Donkeys is what they started our conversation with?
CU Football
Oh, it's going to be ugly. Maxim magazine just ranked this program the 8th worst in the FBS. A top 10 horrid program? Uh, I'm going to go with yes, why yes they are. I want to know how and why, though. I know everyone in Boulder thinks Head Coach Dan Hawkins is the reason, but I beg to differ. I'm not going to create excuses for the coach, but I will say he was brought in on 12/16/2005 to clean up the debacles of Gary Barnett and even Rick Neuheisel. While those 2 guys scandals were different, they have both had to have had an impact on boosters, alumni and recruiting. Think of Hawkins going into a kids home and having a potential recruit's Mom asking you about your predecessor's actions towards women. You know the spiral can be quick and cutting. I can't sit here and tell you Hawkins has been without errors. Starting his own son at QB is a no-win situation. A mistake that could've been avoided by directing his son to another program. That would have been the only way Hawkins wins. Otherwise it plays out the way it has-his son doesn't have the arm strength to play major D-1 football, certainly not in the Big 12. And there's no way in hell his home life is going to be any good by taking on his son and not playing him. That house would be awfully cold when it comes time to pass the potatoes around the kitchen table, wouldn't you think?
I'm not saying to give Hawkins too big of a break. He's going on his 5th season, so he's had ample time to put his program in place and people can see his recruiting. He's missed on a lot. He's hit on few. Does that mean he is a horrible coach? Not to me. He's in the big time now, and it hasn't gone well. Well, record wise and going to a bowl game 1/4 years, not so great. But what is his graduation rate? Are they in the news for negative things players have done, such as potential rape or sexual assault, point shaving, or even academic fraud? Not that I've seen or heard. So I ask the people of Boulder (most of which I loathe-they come off as entitled, as if there is some 100 years of excellence) to define for me what a good program looks like. It is definitely possible, and I have no idea if Hawkins is the man for the job. I think he plays his contract out and is gone. I see this team winning 3 or 4 games, with the game on October 2nd vs. Georgia being a bloodbath and where the calls for Hawkins head to start, or at least get much much louder.
Maybe the Athletic Director listens, but he probably shouldn't. Because if he does he might want to think about firing himself. This AD has made some moves that has me scratching my scalp. He's paid off a men's and women's basketball coach. They've decided to move to the Pac-10. Their basketball teams play in an arena that is beyond tiny. They want to play with the biggest and most drawing teams in the country, and by sheer numbers the USC's and Texas' of the world have more of it. CU doesn't have 100,000 kids going to school, like Texas, Nebraska, Washington or even Arizona. Yet they want to compete. How do you do that? Especially with a ticked off and tapped alumni? I didn't say I had the answers, but don't these types of questions need to be asked? And what happens if in their first game of the year, against in-state rival CSU they lose, again? I see that happening, and I admit my bias. I like the way the Rams run the program. Maybe it's that I don't particularly care for Boulder. That's possible. Maybe it's my interactions oh so many years ago recruiting for a company I worked for. The kids from Boulder, overall, questioned my credibility and why my company wouldn't just hand them a job. I found that to be very funny, since I already had a job and they were trying to get one. Not a good way to get in my good graces. But that's in the past. This year, this game? I've got my idea who's winning. Maybe the AD in Boulder will take a good hard look at how the department has been run. The thinking I've read is that the reason for the move to the Pac-10 is revenue driven. Great. Update the practice facilities, the stadiums, the programs, because there are things to build on. But please, no more severance packages, stop tapping the alumni and boosters for buyout clauses. Start hiring smarter and things could honestly work. As much as I don't like Boulder, it's an environment that is ripe for a program that can start winning and building. No need to go 12-0, just get to .500. Doable, but not under this regime, and not this year. Sorry Boulder, but this year isn't going to be particularly pretty. And you have every right to start asking the difficult questions to your Athletic Department.
Fixing the Nuggets
Can owner Stan Kroenke get a reset button? As it stands today, the 6th man is on the trading block and potentially on the police blotter with an assault charge. The All-Star forward wants out-to potentially play for one of the worst-run franchises in sports, the Knicks. And the starting power forward is hurt and out until who knows how long with yet another knee surgery.
My solution? Easy, blow it up. Name me the salvageable piece? I'll wait. What, old point guard Chauncey Billups? Ha! Mr. Big Shot is bull. He hasn't hit a big shot in 6 years. He has failed to take over when the team needed it.
So how do you do it? Easier said than done. The Nuggets will have to eat money somewhere along the line, but the first deal is to trade Kenyon 'Thug Life' Martin to New Orleans for Pedro Stokjakovic. Injured for injured, salaries almost match. If Stoyo is remotely healthy, he can score 15 pts/game. Martin can potentially play the 4 for New Orleans, make Chris Paul think that they are trying to get pieces and move David West to the 3, a tougher matchup.
Trading JR Smith will be a good luck/good riddance. And for one Carmelo Anthony, to say I'm baffled would be beyond comprehension. Why want out of Denver? The Knicks? Amar'e Stoudamire? Maybe Chris Paul? What am I missing here? The current rumors have Anthony wanting to go to the Knicks or to Houston. Others state that the team is looking to Sacramento, New Jersey or Minnesota. I still don't understand why he wants to leave Denver. Because of his marriage to a former MTV VJ? Denver as a city has stuck by this guy thru a DUI, sulking, not living up to potential, and let us not forget the suspension for the fight he started in NYC. If this team as it stands now were to take the floor, attendance would be low. So 'Melo wants to leave? Fine by me, I will miss the Syracuse alum, but good riddance. He has yet to impose his will on the league or his team. He's had flashes, but someone with his talent should be doing 26/8/3. This past season he came close, pulling a 28/6/3. So he's a bucket better, but he's still not the leader on the team. Yet he wants to be the guy. I know, he's still very young, but if he doesn't want to be here, say goodbye and get some talent back for him. Let's look at the scenarios, and just remember that salaries have to pretty much match up:
New York Knicks: I really don't see a way this happens without a 3rd team. That, taking on Eddy Curry's poison contract, and then there is still $6 Million to come up with. And the Nuggets might want some talent back, like an Anthony Randolph. It's not happening.
Houston Rockets: If the Rockets wanted to give up Luis Scola and Kevin Martin I would do that deal so fast that the front office of Houston would be questioning their own sanity. The salaries almost matchup, and if the Rockets for some reason wanted JR Smith as well then the Nuggets can take on Courtney Lee and Chuck Hayes.
Sacramento Kings: I may be wrong, but I believe the NBA is toying with the idea of a salary floor of $43 Million, and that would mean the Kings could very well be short, by about $2-3 Million. Sacramento isn't giving up Tyreke Evans nor DeMarcus Cousins. But I'm thinking anyone else on this roster is fair game. How about Anthony for Samuel Dalembert, Carl Landry and Jason Thompson? I'd do that deal if I'm Denver, Landry and Dalembert are off the cap after this season, Thompson has promise and virtually all the cap relief that Anthony leaving would provide if he were to opt out of his deal with be made with those 2 contracts ending. Want JR Smith? Fine, the Nuggets can take on Beno Udrih.
New Jersey: The Nets would have to send Troy Murphy, Anthony Morrow and Quintin Ross back to Denver. Might not be horrid, as Morrow can knock down a jumpshot, but so far the least 'ooomph' of any deal. Want JR Smith? Then it goes to Murphy and Devin Harris, and I don't see NJ handing over the keys to Jordan Farmar.
Minnesota: This would have to be another 3 team deal. Because the only salary matchups for the Timberwolves include Michael Beasley, Jonny Flynn, Kevin Love, Corey Brewer, Wesley Johnson and Martell Webster in some combination, like a 4 to 1 deal. Don't really see this one happening.
My own personal favorite, the LA Clippers: give the Nuggets Chris Kaman and Blake Griffin. I know Clippers owner Donald Sterling isn't kicking in the $1 Million shortfall, so if DeAndre Jordan has to come along, so be it. If the Clippers want JR Smith (why they would with Eric Gordon would be beyond normal thought) then it's Anthony/Smith for Kaman/Griffin/Randy Foye/Mardy Collins (oh the irony if Collins would be involved in a trade for Anthony). Hey new GM of the Nuggets, get on this!
Dear NFL Owners
You're coming off as stupid. An 18 game schedule? Why? I am about to state something that will shock-I don't want 18 games. As a matter of fact, the NFL is starting to piss me off. Why? Because they are starting to invade my life just a wee bit too much. Part of the joy of football, be it college or pro, is that is on 1 or 2 days. Now? The NFL this year will be on Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Even me, unemployed, thinks that this is overkill. I liked it when the NFL was on Thursdays only on Thanksgiving. Now instead of 2 games on Turkey Day, it's 3. And I doubt I'm the only one. Heck, college football is on all sorts of nights. Who can keep track of all this stuff? Stop jacking around with my week, NFL. Really, like now. I love the fact that I have Sunday's all to myself and watching your fantastic product. But you as a collective group are gettin' greedy. And greed is one of the 7 deadly sins. Another one of those sins is gluttony, and with your own network, when is enough actually enough? You don't need any more money. Why, so the Krafts and Joneses can get more money? They're fine, their kids are fine, and their grandkids' future kids will be A-Okay, you can't lose that kind of wealth. The main reason I state all these things is because you are putting people at more risk. You are putting more families at risk. You're putting certain records none of us want to see broken at risk. But the most important thing is the health. And I'm not even talking the knees, ankles and shoulders of players. I'm talking the brains. Are you really willing to add 150-200 car crashes a year to players career? Because there are usually 75-100 plays/game and those are like a car crash. If the current average career in the NFL is 3 years and dwindling, what makes you think that number will increase by adding games? It won't. And since you've only discovered the damage that all these hits to the noggin can cause, long-term, why would you want to add to the potential damage? This is all a money thing. I am only hopeful that no matter how big of a piece of the potential larger pie these owners offer that the players union stands up and says, "Hell, no!". It's not worth it.
Okay, my take on sports is gone for the day....but I have one last thing. This notion is out there, and I liken it to the idea of fairness and playing by a certain set of rules, and throwing out words just because one group or side doesn't get their way.
The word is tolerance. I won't call it a myth. I will ask the following-what is the line for tolerance? How tolerant do I have to be? I'd like to think I'm forgiving and willing to listen to certain ideas, but that doesn't mean I have to agree with them, does it? How long do I have to listen to someone ramble on that I'm a bigot because I don't agree with someone's position? Where's my line? Do I have to wait until they threaten my belief system? My family? How about taking away a whole gender's ability to feel pleasure? Or plant a victory flag on my brother's grave? When does it end? In case you haven't figured it out, I'm talking about that building that a certain group wants to rip down and build up something else a little too close to home. Ground Zero, as it's known, will soon be marked by the 9th anniversary of the most deadliest attack on US soil. The freedom of religion argument is bunk-I could care less what religion you practice, but I sure as hell care where you practice it. I wouldn't recommend the Catholic church start raising buildings anywhere near an elementary school, that's for damn sure (full disclosure, I'm a recovering Catholic). So why build a Mosque there? Hmm, could it be to show the rest of the Muslim world that this awesome country can be brow-beaten until we say uncle? Or maybe we can practice Sharia Law? If that's the case, then ladies, run. Last time I checked Muslims (not all, but a certain sect) believe that you must cut off a woman's clitoris so that they can somehow remain faithful to their future husband. Are you kidding me? Hey, the Bible is jacked up, but I don't remember reading anything about female mutilation in my pop-up version of said book. So again I ask, where is the line? When do I get to stand up for my rights, my family, my friends...hell, even my country and say enough already? I'm not saying you can't build a Mosque, but to build one that close to Ground Zero starts throwing up all sorts of red flags. I'm stating that to do it there shows poor taste, to put it politely. And if you follow any form of history, you know that building a Mosque on a piece of land that has been 'conquered', you know that there is the potential that that is exactly what this building is all about. Sorry, but I'm done cow-towing to other groups, tired of being told how different we are, tired of being told who has and who doesn't and who's to blame for it. Where I come from, you put your pants on and get something done, you don't blame someone into shame to get your way. Even my own President is getting twisted, but that's probably because he doesn't even know who he is (another story for another time). If you have any friends in England or in France, I'd start asking questions. It wasn't in a day that their infrastructure was overrun, it was slow and over a long period of time. I'm tolerant to let you live your life so long as you don't tread on mine. But if you want to call me a bigot or intolerant, you best be ready to back those words up. I'm intolerant of stupid, as if you couldn't tell by reading this blog. I have no patience for it. Yes, we all do dumb things, but there is a different between dumb and stupid. I shouldn't need to point it out. As for my intolerance on the Mosque, I'll form my rebuttal in the form of a question-don't you think those who are strident in building this, ahem, place of worship are a bit intolerant of the feelings of those who lost a family member on 9/11? Think about that one and get back to me. You'll probably surprise yourself. I know, crazy enough that it just might work.
Happy Sunday to you, and yours. Get out and enjoy the weather if you can.
And get your rest, because evil never sleeps....and the stupids always seem to come in an endless supply.
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Now playing: NaS - I Can
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Tuesday, August 24, 2010
my Mind Clearing Road Trip
Oh, what fun I get to have. Y'all wish you had this much fun. Now, I don't wish on any of you the clutter of stupidity and nonsense that has been rattling around my brain for the last few months. I really don't. And I have no idea how you clear your head or de-clutter everything in your world, but I know how I do it....you hit the road. I used to do this in college all the time, I'd get done my shift and then either drive to Connecticut or to NYC, get something to eat at a diner, and then turn around. It would take anywhere between 6 and 8 hours roundtrip, but it was always worth it.
So why the road trip? And where was I going?
Well, I needed to get out of Dodge because I was tired of looking at the same walls, listening to the same drivel from HotDog Neck (my roommate) and just over not finding anything to be really positive about. So I decided to head east, and I had a loose plan in mind. You will need some history on why I was going to go east, and here it is...
My brother
He's an asshole. Douchebag. Selfish prick. And mean to my Moms. The last one is the one that counts the most. I can deal with all of the other things. I have been since we were kids. But the level of self-entitlement in combination with the anger and bitterness towards my Moms is over. It's not valid. It's unwarranted. She has done nothing but dote on that kid since he was born. She always defends him, is always sneaking him money, always covering for him. And he has obliged to take advantage of her goodwill and her bank account for far too long. Well, this all came to a head for me 2 weeks ago, when my Moms let it slip about some financial info that set me thru the roof. All I'm going to post is that he managed to steal quite a bit from her, money that wasn't his. And my Moms is now heartbroken and didn't even want to tell me. Why? Because she knows me better than anyone else, but I don't think she was expecting my reaction. At the time I got this news, I was ready to show up and double-tap that kid. It would be cheaper to bury him than to help him, because to me, he is beyond reproach. You may read this and think I was joking, but I was totally serious. I do not like people messing with my Mother, I know how fragile her psyche is, and my brother has taken advantage for far too long.
So I was headed to Boston, by way of Kansas City and Pittsburgh, to surprise my Moms in the good way, scare the living daylights out of my brother and hang out with some folks who didn't even know I was going to be there. Maybe even try to find a job. My thinking at that time was that enough was enough, time to go hang out for a few weeks and just show up at some of these companies and then maybe they'd take me seriously. I had had enough of Denver, of my living situation, of everything.
And then the open road happened. I filled up my gas tank, got some snacks and water and threw those in the cooler, and off to I-70 I went. I now know why some people travel thru middle-America at night. It's so that they can imagine elaborate scenery. Because there is nothing but wheat and corn between Denver and Kansas City, I swear it to you. But a lot sure does happen in 8 1/2 hours of driving. First, I was belting out tunes left and right. I listened to some things I haven't heard in years. Then I got an email that helped me stop what I was doing. It was from a company in Boston that I have been chasing after for 2 years. They deal with healthcare software and I thought would be a really great place to work and grow my career. Instead I get told that based on a 5 minute conversation 2 years ago (!) I wouldn't be a fit for that company on a cultural basis. What the hell could I have said in 5 minutes 2 years ago that would give anyone that impression? I honestly don't know, but they are crossed off the list. But it got me thinking.
After paying $2.50 for my toll thru Kansas to get into KC, I called a buddy who is working in KC to see if he wanted to hang out. And oh boy did he. He's bored out of his skull at night, he's a superintendent on a building project for a sporting goods store, and his family is back here in Denver. So he's away from his wife and 11 month old son for like 28 days/month. I can't fathom it. But I also understand doing what needs to be done to keep a roof over your family's head and money in the bank, too.
So we went to the Royals game. I got a ticket for $7 and got to sick next to the fountain in left-center. Can't do that at Fenway, ever. Nice night in KC, too. After we ate BBQ (meh, I think they fried the burnt ends, not a good idea) it started to cool off, not too humid. My buddy had never seen anyone try to scalp a ticket. This wasn't going to be a tough sell, as it was the Royals/Indians, not exactly a barnburner of a game. Considering it was Bruce Chen and Fausto Carmona pitching, and it was a Wednesday night, I figured we would be ok. And we were. I talked to one guy on the way in, told him all I had was $20 for 2 seats, he wanted to sell me 2 tix next to the dugout for $20/piece. Uh, this game wasn't even close to a sellout, so I went to the box office and got our tickets. Nice game, and then headed back to my buddy's extended stay hotel where my car was. He was kind enough to hook me up and get me a rate at the same place for the night. So I got to stay in a nice, clean place for $39. Even had a full size fridge, so I could put the stuff from the cooler into the fridge and not have it sit in my car all night. We parted ways and I was off to sleepyland.
And then I awoke
Felt brand new. Can't remember waking up so rested. So relaxed, and so damn calm. Like my head had been smacked and all the crap emptied out. And all these things seemed to line up. As though he was standing right next to me, I kinda felt like my Pops was right there. What the hell am I thinking of, driving to Boston? What's there for me? I'll tell you what. A whole lot of nothing. I'm not dismissing my family or friends, as they are the things I like to anchor my life around. But my career? My extended family? How 'bout a big fat pile of 'No'? And that is by no means stated with any tone of disrespect to them, they have their own lives and things to worry about. I myself wouldn't act that way towards me, that's just how they deal with things.
My brother will be a douchebag whether I'm in Boston, Denver, Chicago or London. It makes no difference. The kid is a selfish ass. Plain and simple. I'm mad at him and hurt by how he would treat the one person who has been defending him forever. But that's his world. My Moms is a broken woman. She's lost, confused, and sweet. She's naive about how a lot of this world works. Most of the time that's not such a bad thing. But in this case, I can't fix her. Nor can I protect her, she will constantly defend my brother and he's just the kind of jackass to take advantage of it. I've been trying to make my family The Walton's for as long as I can remember. Funny thing, we aren't The Walton's. Matter of fact, fuck The Walton's, they're a damn TV show, and shitty one at that.
As I stood in my hotel room in KC, I swear I heard my Pops yell at me (those that remember him would not find this to be too far of a stretch) "This is what I've been trying to tell you!" I've been so worried about my family that I've failed to take care of myself. And as you've probably heard, you should take care of yourself first, because nobody else is going to. No need to be selfish, but you should look out for yourself. So what else do you think happened in my head at this place just outside KC? What, the girl? Never gonna happen. Never say never? Fine, how about this then? Highly unlikely. Our timing has never been right. Like, ever. She's a great woman, care for her tremendously, blah blah blah. Ain't happnin, Captain. She's in Boston, I'm in Denver. No need in dragging this whole thing out any longer than it's already been. Sorry if I seem caustic, but thems the facts. We'll be friends, I'll root for her from here.
Same thing with any job offers. I'm done spending my time looking for opportunities in Boston. That town has just not loved me back. I understand, quite well, that the job market isn't great anywhere. But I've had a ton of rejections from both Denver and Boston, but the one's from back east seem to sting a bit more. Like they don't want the hometown kid to come back. And I feel like I haven't given Denver a fair shake, that while straddling the fence between these two great but very different places I've done myself this giant disservice. Boston is a great place to be from, it will hold a place in my heart forever and ever, but if it or some company or someone out there wants me, they know my number and know where to find me.
So now, it's on to find something else. I'm really excited about all the possibilities out there. Only because it's finally dawned on me to stop being a couch potato. I know, I know. When I worked, I'd get home and plop myself in front of the idiot box and stare at it. For what? I can do that crap in the winter. It's nice out, I live in one of the sweetest places out there, and I've been waiting for something to happen. Along with this couch potato revelation, it's dawned on me that my friends have their jobs and their other things, rarely do the two meet. Sometimes they do, and that is great. But everyone I know has interests outside of work and they do those things-even during the week.
Me? I like typing this goofy thing. I have submitted my entry for the sports writing internship (fingers and toes crossed, people) and I'm starting to write a little bit here and there for any potential open mic nights I come across for stand up. Nothing wrong with me taking a job to support myself and blow off some steam doing my other things. Apparently it's what you all have been doing.
One other thing I noticed while driving, most of my friends are 'one-offs'. We all left 'home' and moved. Our families all stayed back wherever they are and we left. My boy Kenny left his whole family in NH and moved to Toronto because he fell in love. And now he's got his own family, a house and an addition on the way. My buddy's in Denver? Well, except for a few of them, the rest of us are all the guys that left someplace they call home and started their lives here. I've been here for 13 years, I've got a life, not much of one, but I have a life here. Why change it now? For the hope of something potentially happening out on the east coast? If I had an offer letter and a substantial opportunity, then I'd be gone. But I don't. Hopes and dreams don't pay my bills, they don't put food in my fridge and they don't keep me warm at night. I've been going about this all wrong.
And the moment I admitted that last sentence to myself, I haven't been able to stop smiling this goofy grin. I really am kinda excited to not know what the hell I'm doing. At least I'll go my own way. (Yes, this really all came to me on I-70 and waking up in Kansas City, I kid you not)
The rest of the trip is important. I decided to go see something in KC I've always wanted to go to. The Negro League Baseball Museum is in this old neighborhood, and I got to see that museum and the American Jazz Museum (in the same little complex) for 10 bucks. Can you do anything in Boston for $10? I'm just asking. I walked thru this baseball museum and saw and read so many cool things, so many artifacts, so much history. I still love baseball. I love it's history. I think it's extremely ironic that I did my baseball road trip 12 years ago and we failed to stop off in this place. Almost tragic. I had some views fortified. I'm still of the opinion that if I ever have kids and I have to explain segregation and a 'coloreds only' water fountain that they will shake their heads when they realize this was less than a century ago. I got to see where teams got their names from, how the Kansas City Monarchs were like the platinum standard, how they had to barnstorm. But the neighborhood I was in, on The Paseo, that's where all the jazz musicians and ballplayers hung out, together. And from what one of the older gentleman I got to talk to told me, the place was jumping until 6 in the morning. Just so damn cool. The Jazz Museum was sweet as well. I didn't have much of an attention span for it as a kid, but I've grown to like it a whole lot more. Why? Because you never know where it's going to go. That, and face it, I'm an old soul. Went to the gift shop, got me my bobble-head dolls, and off to the BBQ joint down the street.
You know a BBQ place is good when you are the smallest guy walking thru the door. You know it even better when the guy in front of you is like 4hundo and turns and looks at you and says, very clearly, "you might want to go in front of me, I'm about to put a hurtin' on this place". Hells yes I will. Now Arthur Bryant's? They do burnt ends the right way. And the potato salad wasn't too shabby either. Once I was done inhaling this plate of goodness, I got in my car and set my course for Chicago.
Why Chicago? Because I have a great friend that lives just outside the city. So I called him up and asked him what he was doing that night. He asked if I was in town. "Nope, but I will be in about 8-9 hours". He told me he had a spare bedroom that I was welcome to, we'd hang out and have to hit up Steak 'n Shake. Look, if you're from the area you probably don't think of it as that big of a deal. But to us, since I had never been, it was about to be an event. But first, I had to get thru Iowa. Allow me to submit to you that I-35 Northbound is one of the most rugged highways I have ever driven on. No chance in hell anyone could fall asleep on this road. And then you hit I-80 and go east...how long? For-freaking-ever. Got off to I-88 and hit more damn tolls than I've seen in quite a long time. I'm pretty sure those roads are paid for by now, but that's the Illinois way. Got to my buddy's place, and off we went to the Steak 'n Shake. We were greeted by the waitress/drive-thru attendant, Nina. Nina had summer teeth (some are here, some are there, some are yellow,you get the picture). Woman could've flossed with a jump rope. And the neck tattoo was a nice touch. But she was a nice lady, and when my buddy told her I'd never been to one of these fine establishments, it was on. The burger was mighty tasty, well worth the trip. Got to chat about all sorts of stuff with my buddy, exchange horrid dating stories, talked about his dog passing a few weeks ago (seriously, that sucks), and about what the hell I'm doing.
The next day, I was ready to go home. I knew I wouldn't make it back to Denver in one day, especially since I was leaving Chicago at like 2:30, so I drove about as far as I could, with stops in between. Just outside Aurora, IL I got stuck in the freakiest rain storm ever. I couldn't see the car in front of me, it was like I was stuck in a car wash, but it only lasted like 15 seconds, the rest of it for like an hour was just normal rain and cars just pissing water on each other. But that 15 seconds took forever. Once again, more tolls to get out. And then Iowa. And I got to stop at the World's Largest Truckstop. It was like a flea market and a walmart hooked up one drunken night and this is what became of it. Yes, I bought Fun Dip (fine, you tell me you're on a road trip, you see Fun Dip at the counter and you're not buying it? Bull.) and some Razzles. A few hours later, almost out of Iowa, I had to get gas. Nothing better than finding out how far your car can go on a tank (the first leg to KC I got that car to 423.7 miles), but also not the brightest idea to see if your car will stall on a highway where you don't know where the hell you are. That right there is the "Duh" test, and I passed. Finally I felt myself getting kinda sleepy, and Nebraska was right there. I had been warned not to stay in Council Bluffs or Omaha because they are super expensive due to limited quantities. Thanks to my friend Veronica who had just made the drive from Denver to Milwaukee for that tidbit. So I figured I would stay in Lincoln. I looked up on my phone (I love this droid thing, fyi) and found out that the chain I stayed at in KC has a place in Lincoln. Sweet, because I'm in the system they'd give me the same rate. Well, my little Google Navigation (better than Sprint's, even in the Beta phase, I swear it) led me to downtown Lincoln. On my way there I passed Memorial Coliseum. And everywhere you turned there was some sign for 'Go Big Red'. Yup, these people are into the 'Huskers like Vatican City is to Jesus. Wow. Well downtown Lincoln was jamming, as all the kiddies are back to go to school. I have no desire to hang out with a bunch of drunken rookies. All I needed was sleep for about 6 hours and I'd be good to go. So back out to I-80 and the next exit had some cheap motels. I appreciate the dental work on the chap at the Motel 6 in Lincoln, all 3 of his teeth were pearly white. I think he left the rest of them in a glass at the counter, but I couldn't tell....why? Oh, because after 10:00 at this particular place, you had to check in via a bulletproof movie ticket window. I shit you not. Guy asked me if I wanted a queen size bed or two double beds. I said queen. "We're all out." Thanks, Jethro..oh, sorry, Jeff. Got in my little hole for a room and passed out.
Up the next morning and on the road again. Nothing too eventful, other than to say that I noticed this stupid smirk forming, really. That and I-76 in Colorado way out on the east side of the state sucks just as bad as I-35 North in Iowa. I thought this damn TARP money was supposed to fix the highways. Get on it already. Nothing better than cruise control and an iPod, I swear it.
Got back into Denver in the afternoon, beating the Google Navigation estimated time by almost an hour (yes, I'm proud of myself), unloaded the car, took a shower, and just thanked my lucky stars I made it back in one piece. And I did. With one huge exception. I got myself back. In the bestest way possible. No anger. No bitterness. No rage. Not a damn care in the world, everyone can sort themselves out. I'm still going to be me, I'll still be an asshole a bit of the time. But I'm still a pretty decent guy. Stupid smirk be damned. Because it's been 4 days since I got back, and it's still there.
All in all, the trip probably cost me about $400 in gas/food/lodging, and another $175 when I got back due to an overdue oil change and my drive belts cracking. So, around $600 I'll call it. Worth every damn penny.
And piece of mind? Well friends, there is no price for that. I'm just thrilled I got to do what I wanted, for me, for the first time in a long time. This is a trip I will not soon forget.
Now it's time to go find some work!
Happy Tuesday night to you, or Wednesday morning if you're reading this on the east coast.
----------------
Now playing: Slum Village - It`s On
via FoxyTunes
So why the road trip? And where was I going?
Well, I needed to get out of Dodge because I was tired of looking at the same walls, listening to the same drivel from HotDog Neck (my roommate) and just over not finding anything to be really positive about. So I decided to head east, and I had a loose plan in mind. You will need some history on why I was going to go east, and here it is...
My brother
He's an asshole. Douchebag. Selfish prick. And mean to my Moms. The last one is the one that counts the most. I can deal with all of the other things. I have been since we were kids. But the level of self-entitlement in combination with the anger and bitterness towards my Moms is over. It's not valid. It's unwarranted. She has done nothing but dote on that kid since he was born. She always defends him, is always sneaking him money, always covering for him. And he has obliged to take advantage of her goodwill and her bank account for far too long. Well, this all came to a head for me 2 weeks ago, when my Moms let it slip about some financial info that set me thru the roof. All I'm going to post is that he managed to steal quite a bit from her, money that wasn't his. And my Moms is now heartbroken and didn't even want to tell me. Why? Because she knows me better than anyone else, but I don't think she was expecting my reaction. At the time I got this news, I was ready to show up and double-tap that kid. It would be cheaper to bury him than to help him, because to me, he is beyond reproach. You may read this and think I was joking, but I was totally serious. I do not like people messing with my Mother, I know how fragile her psyche is, and my brother has taken advantage for far too long.
So I was headed to Boston, by way of Kansas City and Pittsburgh, to surprise my Moms in the good way, scare the living daylights out of my brother and hang out with some folks who didn't even know I was going to be there. Maybe even try to find a job. My thinking at that time was that enough was enough, time to go hang out for a few weeks and just show up at some of these companies and then maybe they'd take me seriously. I had had enough of Denver, of my living situation, of everything.
And then the open road happened. I filled up my gas tank, got some snacks and water and threw those in the cooler, and off to I-70 I went. I now know why some people travel thru middle-America at night. It's so that they can imagine elaborate scenery. Because there is nothing but wheat and corn between Denver and Kansas City, I swear it to you. But a lot sure does happen in 8 1/2 hours of driving. First, I was belting out tunes left and right. I listened to some things I haven't heard in years. Then I got an email that helped me stop what I was doing. It was from a company in Boston that I have been chasing after for 2 years. They deal with healthcare software and I thought would be a really great place to work and grow my career. Instead I get told that based on a 5 minute conversation 2 years ago (!) I wouldn't be a fit for that company on a cultural basis. What the hell could I have said in 5 minutes 2 years ago that would give anyone that impression? I honestly don't know, but they are crossed off the list. But it got me thinking.
After paying $2.50 for my toll thru Kansas to get into KC, I called a buddy who is working in KC to see if he wanted to hang out. And oh boy did he. He's bored out of his skull at night, he's a superintendent on a building project for a sporting goods store, and his family is back here in Denver. So he's away from his wife and 11 month old son for like 28 days/month. I can't fathom it. But I also understand doing what needs to be done to keep a roof over your family's head and money in the bank, too.
So we went to the Royals game. I got a ticket for $7 and got to sick next to the fountain in left-center. Can't do that at Fenway, ever. Nice night in KC, too. After we ate BBQ (meh, I think they fried the burnt ends, not a good idea) it started to cool off, not too humid. My buddy had never seen anyone try to scalp a ticket. This wasn't going to be a tough sell, as it was the Royals/Indians, not exactly a barnburner of a game. Considering it was Bruce Chen and Fausto Carmona pitching, and it was a Wednesday night, I figured we would be ok. And we were. I talked to one guy on the way in, told him all I had was $20 for 2 seats, he wanted to sell me 2 tix next to the dugout for $20/piece. Uh, this game wasn't even close to a sellout, so I went to the box office and got our tickets. Nice game, and then headed back to my buddy's extended stay hotel where my car was. He was kind enough to hook me up and get me a rate at the same place for the night. So I got to stay in a nice, clean place for $39. Even had a full size fridge, so I could put the stuff from the cooler into the fridge and not have it sit in my car all night. We parted ways and I was off to sleepyland.
And then I awoke
Felt brand new. Can't remember waking up so rested. So relaxed, and so damn calm. Like my head had been smacked and all the crap emptied out. And all these things seemed to line up. As though he was standing right next to me, I kinda felt like my Pops was right there. What the hell am I thinking of, driving to Boston? What's there for me? I'll tell you what. A whole lot of nothing. I'm not dismissing my family or friends, as they are the things I like to anchor my life around. But my career? My extended family? How 'bout a big fat pile of 'No'? And that is by no means stated with any tone of disrespect to them, they have their own lives and things to worry about. I myself wouldn't act that way towards me, that's just how they deal with things.
My brother will be a douchebag whether I'm in Boston, Denver, Chicago or London. It makes no difference. The kid is a selfish ass. Plain and simple. I'm mad at him and hurt by how he would treat the one person who has been defending him forever. But that's his world. My Moms is a broken woman. She's lost, confused, and sweet. She's naive about how a lot of this world works. Most of the time that's not such a bad thing. But in this case, I can't fix her. Nor can I protect her, she will constantly defend my brother and he's just the kind of jackass to take advantage of it. I've been trying to make my family The Walton's for as long as I can remember. Funny thing, we aren't The Walton's. Matter of fact, fuck The Walton's, they're a damn TV show, and shitty one at that.
As I stood in my hotel room in KC, I swear I heard my Pops yell at me (those that remember him would not find this to be too far of a stretch) "This is what I've been trying to tell you!" I've been so worried about my family that I've failed to take care of myself. And as you've probably heard, you should take care of yourself first, because nobody else is going to. No need to be selfish, but you should look out for yourself. So what else do you think happened in my head at this place just outside KC? What, the girl? Never gonna happen. Never say never? Fine, how about this then? Highly unlikely. Our timing has never been right. Like, ever. She's a great woman, care for her tremendously, blah blah blah. Ain't happnin, Captain. She's in Boston, I'm in Denver. No need in dragging this whole thing out any longer than it's already been. Sorry if I seem caustic, but thems the facts. We'll be friends, I'll root for her from here.
Same thing with any job offers. I'm done spending my time looking for opportunities in Boston. That town has just not loved me back. I understand, quite well, that the job market isn't great anywhere. But I've had a ton of rejections from both Denver and Boston, but the one's from back east seem to sting a bit more. Like they don't want the hometown kid to come back. And I feel like I haven't given Denver a fair shake, that while straddling the fence between these two great but very different places I've done myself this giant disservice. Boston is a great place to be from, it will hold a place in my heart forever and ever, but if it or some company or someone out there wants me, they know my number and know where to find me.
So now, it's on to find something else. I'm really excited about all the possibilities out there. Only because it's finally dawned on me to stop being a couch potato. I know, I know. When I worked, I'd get home and plop myself in front of the idiot box and stare at it. For what? I can do that crap in the winter. It's nice out, I live in one of the sweetest places out there, and I've been waiting for something to happen. Along with this couch potato revelation, it's dawned on me that my friends have their jobs and their other things, rarely do the two meet. Sometimes they do, and that is great. But everyone I know has interests outside of work and they do those things-even during the week.
Me? I like typing this goofy thing. I have submitted my entry for the sports writing internship (fingers and toes crossed, people) and I'm starting to write a little bit here and there for any potential open mic nights I come across for stand up. Nothing wrong with me taking a job to support myself and blow off some steam doing my other things. Apparently it's what you all have been doing.
One other thing I noticed while driving, most of my friends are 'one-offs'. We all left 'home' and moved. Our families all stayed back wherever they are and we left. My boy Kenny left his whole family in NH and moved to Toronto because he fell in love. And now he's got his own family, a house and an addition on the way. My buddy's in Denver? Well, except for a few of them, the rest of us are all the guys that left someplace they call home and started their lives here. I've been here for 13 years, I've got a life, not much of one, but I have a life here. Why change it now? For the hope of something potentially happening out on the east coast? If I had an offer letter and a substantial opportunity, then I'd be gone. But I don't. Hopes and dreams don't pay my bills, they don't put food in my fridge and they don't keep me warm at night. I've been going about this all wrong.
And the moment I admitted that last sentence to myself, I haven't been able to stop smiling this goofy grin. I really am kinda excited to not know what the hell I'm doing. At least I'll go my own way. (Yes, this really all came to me on I-70 and waking up in Kansas City, I kid you not)
The rest of the trip is important. I decided to go see something in KC I've always wanted to go to. The Negro League Baseball Museum is in this old neighborhood, and I got to see that museum and the American Jazz Museum (in the same little complex) for 10 bucks. Can you do anything in Boston for $10? I'm just asking. I walked thru this baseball museum and saw and read so many cool things, so many artifacts, so much history. I still love baseball. I love it's history. I think it's extremely ironic that I did my baseball road trip 12 years ago and we failed to stop off in this place. Almost tragic. I had some views fortified. I'm still of the opinion that if I ever have kids and I have to explain segregation and a 'coloreds only' water fountain that they will shake their heads when they realize this was less than a century ago. I got to see where teams got their names from, how the Kansas City Monarchs were like the platinum standard, how they had to barnstorm. But the neighborhood I was in, on The Paseo, that's where all the jazz musicians and ballplayers hung out, together. And from what one of the older gentleman I got to talk to told me, the place was jumping until 6 in the morning. Just so damn cool. The Jazz Museum was sweet as well. I didn't have much of an attention span for it as a kid, but I've grown to like it a whole lot more. Why? Because you never know where it's going to go. That, and face it, I'm an old soul. Went to the gift shop, got me my bobble-head dolls, and off to the BBQ joint down the street.
You know a BBQ place is good when you are the smallest guy walking thru the door. You know it even better when the guy in front of you is like 4hundo and turns and looks at you and says, very clearly, "you might want to go in front of me, I'm about to put a hurtin' on this place". Hells yes I will. Now Arthur Bryant's? They do burnt ends the right way. And the potato salad wasn't too shabby either. Once I was done inhaling this plate of goodness, I got in my car and set my course for Chicago.
Why Chicago? Because I have a great friend that lives just outside the city. So I called him up and asked him what he was doing that night. He asked if I was in town. "Nope, but I will be in about 8-9 hours". He told me he had a spare bedroom that I was welcome to, we'd hang out and have to hit up Steak 'n Shake. Look, if you're from the area you probably don't think of it as that big of a deal. But to us, since I had never been, it was about to be an event. But first, I had to get thru Iowa. Allow me to submit to you that I-35 Northbound is one of the most rugged highways I have ever driven on. No chance in hell anyone could fall asleep on this road. And then you hit I-80 and go east...how long? For-freaking-ever. Got off to I-88 and hit more damn tolls than I've seen in quite a long time. I'm pretty sure those roads are paid for by now, but that's the Illinois way. Got to my buddy's place, and off we went to the Steak 'n Shake. We were greeted by the waitress/drive-thru attendant, Nina. Nina had summer teeth (some are here, some are there, some are yellow,you get the picture). Woman could've flossed with a jump rope. And the neck tattoo was a nice touch. But she was a nice lady, and when my buddy told her I'd never been to one of these fine establishments, it was on. The burger was mighty tasty, well worth the trip. Got to chat about all sorts of stuff with my buddy, exchange horrid dating stories, talked about his dog passing a few weeks ago (seriously, that sucks), and about what the hell I'm doing.
The next day, I was ready to go home. I knew I wouldn't make it back to Denver in one day, especially since I was leaving Chicago at like 2:30, so I drove about as far as I could, with stops in between. Just outside Aurora, IL I got stuck in the freakiest rain storm ever. I couldn't see the car in front of me, it was like I was stuck in a car wash, but it only lasted like 15 seconds, the rest of it for like an hour was just normal rain and cars just pissing water on each other. But that 15 seconds took forever. Once again, more tolls to get out. And then Iowa. And I got to stop at the World's Largest Truckstop. It was like a flea market and a walmart hooked up one drunken night and this is what became of it. Yes, I bought Fun Dip (fine, you tell me you're on a road trip, you see Fun Dip at the counter and you're not buying it? Bull.) and some Razzles. A few hours later, almost out of Iowa, I had to get gas. Nothing better than finding out how far your car can go on a tank (the first leg to KC I got that car to 423.7 miles), but also not the brightest idea to see if your car will stall on a highway where you don't know where the hell you are. That right there is the "Duh" test, and I passed. Finally I felt myself getting kinda sleepy, and Nebraska was right there. I had been warned not to stay in Council Bluffs or Omaha because they are super expensive due to limited quantities. Thanks to my friend Veronica who had just made the drive from Denver to Milwaukee for that tidbit. So I figured I would stay in Lincoln. I looked up on my phone (I love this droid thing, fyi) and found out that the chain I stayed at in KC has a place in Lincoln. Sweet, because I'm in the system they'd give me the same rate. Well, my little Google Navigation (better than Sprint's, even in the Beta phase, I swear it) led me to downtown Lincoln. On my way there I passed Memorial Coliseum. And everywhere you turned there was some sign for 'Go Big Red'. Yup, these people are into the 'Huskers like Vatican City is to Jesus. Wow. Well downtown Lincoln was jamming, as all the kiddies are back to go to school. I have no desire to hang out with a bunch of drunken rookies. All I needed was sleep for about 6 hours and I'd be good to go. So back out to I-80 and the next exit had some cheap motels. I appreciate the dental work on the chap at the Motel 6 in Lincoln, all 3 of his teeth were pearly white. I think he left the rest of them in a glass at the counter, but I couldn't tell....why? Oh, because after 10:00 at this particular place, you had to check in via a bulletproof movie ticket window. I shit you not. Guy asked me if I wanted a queen size bed or two double beds. I said queen. "We're all out." Thanks, Jethro..oh, sorry, Jeff. Got in my little hole for a room and passed out.
Up the next morning and on the road again. Nothing too eventful, other than to say that I noticed this stupid smirk forming, really. That and I-76 in Colorado way out on the east side of the state sucks just as bad as I-35 North in Iowa. I thought this damn TARP money was supposed to fix the highways. Get on it already. Nothing better than cruise control and an iPod, I swear it.
Got back into Denver in the afternoon, beating the Google Navigation estimated time by almost an hour (yes, I'm proud of myself), unloaded the car, took a shower, and just thanked my lucky stars I made it back in one piece. And I did. With one huge exception. I got myself back. In the bestest way possible. No anger. No bitterness. No rage. Not a damn care in the world, everyone can sort themselves out. I'm still going to be me, I'll still be an asshole a bit of the time. But I'm still a pretty decent guy. Stupid smirk be damned. Because it's been 4 days since I got back, and it's still there.
All in all, the trip probably cost me about $400 in gas/food/lodging, and another $175 when I got back due to an overdue oil change and my drive belts cracking. So, around $600 I'll call it. Worth every damn penny.
And piece of mind? Well friends, there is no price for that. I'm just thrilled I got to do what I wanted, for me, for the first time in a long time. This is a trip I will not soon forget.
Now it's time to go find some work!
Happy Tuesday night to you, or Wednesday morning if you're reading this on the east coast.
----------------
Now playing: Slum Village - It`s On
via FoxyTunes
Monday, August 16, 2010
So do you hate me yet?
That's the question that was asked of me on Friday afternoon, after my phone rang and I stared at it for what seemed like a light year. Why? When certain phone numbers don't come up as phone calls but mostly as a text message, you tend to think something bad is about to happen. Sorry, but with where I am in my life, that's how that whole thing works.
It's always good to talk to certain folks, and I'm certain anyone that reads this stuff on a regular basis hasn't had me rush them off the phone. But the rest of the people that call me? C'mon now. Let's be real here. I really don't have the energy to put on a smiling face (shadup, I have one!) and tell them that I'm doing fine. While I do laugh a lot at how things have unfolded in the past few months, there are moments that flat out ka-rush me. I just try to do my best not to show them. Why? Because no one can fix what is broken. You just have to learn to deal with certain things, whether you like them or not. Please, tell me I'm wrong. I'll even listen with an open mind and an open heart.
I'll get back to my conversation on Friday, after I give you some other news...
I received a lovely little post card from a company telling me thanks, but no. Hey, maybe that takes more thought than a form email. I doubt it, since it was a form post card, but still. It's the thought (?) that counts.
I have the potential to get a writing internship for a sports website. Keep your fingers crossed that I can read, comprehend, and follow the directions. So far, 2/3 of the assignment is done. Once it is completed and posted, I'll direct you there, believe me. Along with that came the revelation from a friend on Friday night that I should probably stop watching and following sports. Uh, do ya think they know me at all?? If I could get a job writing I'd be more than fine. I'd like to think I know a bit about sports, even hockey and college football. The position is for a paying internship, I'm more than fine with it.
I still have folks looking out for me. And for that, I am grateful. Others can piss and moan that nothing is happening for them, but I am and will be forever thankful that my peoples look out for me. I woke up one morning last week to 3 different people saying they may have something for me. To me, that means I must have done something right. Now, as much as I appreciate all this help, I firmly don't think one of these things is going to pan out. Why? Well, it's been over a year, and I think I've earned the right to be a little more than skeptical. How would you take it?
One of the things I have had a bunch of time to think about, a lot, is to ask you, dear readers, of how honest you would like me to be? I know, it's probably swirling around your head right now-"He's held back? Oh dear Lord!" Relax, my head isn't going to split open and have mini-Bill Maher, mini-George Carlin, mini-Bogart amongst others just brawling out on my laptop. (FYI, not Bill Maher in the liberal sense-far from it-but in the sense to piss people off). It's just something to think about, and feel free to get back to me.
My weekend was tame, relatively. Friday I had some laughs, but also had an acquaintance from high school try to hang out with my 'regular' Friday night crew. It did not go well. You might recall a few weeks ago I stated I blew my stack at someone. That would be the high school acquaintance. I had been dodging him for well over a week, mostly because I'm not in the mood to deal with drunks who somehow think because they have 'street smarts' that somehow disqualifies honest to goodness reading of a few books. Add to that the lovely joy of the circular argument (why anyone would try to reason with a drunk person is far beyond my cognitive abilities), and you can understand, maybe, of why I've been ducking this guy. Well, lucky me, he was at the normal hangout spot. And he joined my Friday night gang, an older group of guys. I'm the youngest by 4 years, and this group can go up to 53. They're all good guys, old school types. We mesh well. It's usually nothing but a ball-bustin' session all night long, with a little bit of business thrown in. Sorry, I have no desire to go clubbin', not that I did when I was 21, either. Wouldn't you know it, but the acquaintance invited himself to hang out with my motley crew, and proceeded to attempt to be combative on every level. Ever been at a table and looked at someone and thought, "Dude shut up, you're coming off as stupid"? That is my Friday night in a nutshell, until the acquaintance was politely called an asshole by two people (shockingly, not me) and then 2 hours later figured out he should go. Now, we weren't friends in high school. We knew each other, ended up at some parties together, but we weren't buddies and didn't run around together. Any suggestions to avoid this crap again would be appreciated, other than my normal way, which involves swearing, a comment about reading more than the Sunday funnies, and the always pleasant sign-off of 'Go Fuck Yourself'. I'm trying here.
Saturday was spent helping set up for a buddy's surprise birthday party. Let's find someone else who can get to a liquor store, buy booze and then go to a grocery store and pick up various items and be back, on a Saturday, in 25 minutes. G'head, I dare you. The other really funny part of Saturday was the fact that I developed a shadow that wouldn't shut up. The shadow was in the form of a 16 yr old guy who looked 30. Seriously, in worse physical shape than me. When I was 16, I was mean and relatively lean, at least before blowing my knee out. Not this kid. I got to learn about some ignorance (ah, racism what a lovely crutch to the dumb you truly are) and high school 'relations', which I'm still trying to scrub out of my head with steel wool. And of course I got to see a picture of the girlfriend. It is true, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In a word, Yikes! In another couple of words, "honey it's called the sun, go out in it, you're lacking Vitamin D....zombie!" The real joy was once the party started, this damn kid wouldn't leave my side. I moved, bam, there he was. In the words of Pops, go light somewhere. Fantastic, just what my life needs, an audience of a 16 yr old who thinks I'm 'cool'. Yeah, 34, unemployed and I live with HotDog Neck and the stankiest dog known to mankind. Outstanding, I'm someone to emulate. Talk about low expectations in this kid's life. I'm not down on myself, but I'm trying to be realistic. If I'm your idea of cool, get a new idea. I'm only myself, I ain't that special. Other than my Mom thinking I'm cute, I am not exactly setting the world on fire here. Eventually he had to leave (whew) and I got to hang out with the birthday boy and his family. He's done really well for himself, and I hope he's happy with how his life is turning out, because I'm very happy for him.
Sunday was spent doing virtually nothing. Until I got dinner at another friends' house just because he had to pick my brain about football (and I don't want a job BS-ing about sports? Ha!). Hey, you can pay me in grilled chicken, macaroni salad and grilled veggies 6/7 days a week. All I have to do is talk football? Done and done. Any damn day of the week. Oh, and the homemade banana bread with chocolate chips didn't hurt, either.
Now, back to the title of this post. Do I hate her yet? I'll never hate her. I am not particularly fond of how things are, but they are out of my control. And hate is a strong word. Hate is reserved for those that have earned it. How do you hate someone who makes you smile? Makes you shake your head? Can make you confused, happy, goofy, slightly aggravated and stupid all at the same time? It is what it is. And in all honesty, I don't think about it that much. I can't. I have to focus on whatever it is I'm doing, be it writing this blog, thinking of ideas for my script/manuscript, my comedy and if I'll ever get the stones to get back up on stage, or even this God forsaken job search.
And that's about all I have to say for now...
----------------
Now playing: I Hate Kate - It's Always Better
via FoxyTunes
It's always good to talk to certain folks, and I'm certain anyone that reads this stuff on a regular basis hasn't had me rush them off the phone. But the rest of the people that call me? C'mon now. Let's be real here. I really don't have the energy to put on a smiling face (shadup, I have one!) and tell them that I'm doing fine. While I do laugh a lot at how things have unfolded in the past few months, there are moments that flat out ka-rush me. I just try to do my best not to show them. Why? Because no one can fix what is broken. You just have to learn to deal with certain things, whether you like them or not. Please, tell me I'm wrong. I'll even listen with an open mind and an open heart.
I'll get back to my conversation on Friday, after I give you some other news...
I received a lovely little post card from a company telling me thanks, but no. Hey, maybe that takes more thought than a form email. I doubt it, since it was a form post card, but still. It's the thought (?) that counts.
I have the potential to get a writing internship for a sports website. Keep your fingers crossed that I can read, comprehend, and follow the directions. So far, 2/3 of the assignment is done. Once it is completed and posted, I'll direct you there, believe me. Along with that came the revelation from a friend on Friday night that I should probably stop watching and following sports. Uh, do ya think they know me at all?? If I could get a job writing I'd be more than fine. I'd like to think I know a bit about sports, even hockey and college football. The position is for a paying internship, I'm more than fine with it.
I still have folks looking out for me. And for that, I am grateful. Others can piss and moan that nothing is happening for them, but I am and will be forever thankful that my peoples look out for me. I woke up one morning last week to 3 different people saying they may have something for me. To me, that means I must have done something right. Now, as much as I appreciate all this help, I firmly don't think one of these things is going to pan out. Why? Well, it's been over a year, and I think I've earned the right to be a little more than skeptical. How would you take it?
One of the things I have had a bunch of time to think about, a lot, is to ask you, dear readers, of how honest you would like me to be? I know, it's probably swirling around your head right now-"He's held back? Oh dear Lord!" Relax, my head isn't going to split open and have mini-Bill Maher, mini-George Carlin, mini-Bogart amongst others just brawling out on my laptop. (FYI, not Bill Maher in the liberal sense-far from it-but in the sense to piss people off). It's just something to think about, and feel free to get back to me.
My weekend was tame, relatively. Friday I had some laughs, but also had an acquaintance from high school try to hang out with my 'regular' Friday night crew. It did not go well. You might recall a few weeks ago I stated I blew my stack at someone. That would be the high school acquaintance. I had been dodging him for well over a week, mostly because I'm not in the mood to deal with drunks who somehow think because they have 'street smarts' that somehow disqualifies honest to goodness reading of a few books. Add to that the lovely joy of the circular argument (why anyone would try to reason with a drunk person is far beyond my cognitive abilities), and you can understand, maybe, of why I've been ducking this guy. Well, lucky me, he was at the normal hangout spot. And he joined my Friday night gang, an older group of guys. I'm the youngest by 4 years, and this group can go up to 53. They're all good guys, old school types. We mesh well. It's usually nothing but a ball-bustin' session all night long, with a little bit of business thrown in. Sorry, I have no desire to go clubbin', not that I did when I was 21, either. Wouldn't you know it, but the acquaintance invited himself to hang out with my motley crew, and proceeded to attempt to be combative on every level. Ever been at a table and looked at someone and thought, "Dude shut up, you're coming off as stupid"? That is my Friday night in a nutshell, until the acquaintance was politely called an asshole by two people (shockingly, not me) and then 2 hours later figured out he should go. Now, we weren't friends in high school. We knew each other, ended up at some parties together, but we weren't buddies and didn't run around together. Any suggestions to avoid this crap again would be appreciated, other than my normal way, which involves swearing, a comment about reading more than the Sunday funnies, and the always pleasant sign-off of 'Go Fuck Yourself'. I'm trying here.
Saturday was spent helping set up for a buddy's surprise birthday party. Let's find someone else who can get to a liquor store, buy booze and then go to a grocery store and pick up various items and be back, on a Saturday, in 25 minutes. G'head, I dare you. The other really funny part of Saturday was the fact that I developed a shadow that wouldn't shut up. The shadow was in the form of a 16 yr old guy who looked 30. Seriously, in worse physical shape than me. When I was 16, I was mean and relatively lean, at least before blowing my knee out. Not this kid. I got to learn about some ignorance (ah, racism what a lovely crutch to the dumb you truly are) and high school 'relations', which I'm still trying to scrub out of my head with steel wool. And of course I got to see a picture of the girlfriend. It is true, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In a word, Yikes! In another couple of words, "honey it's called the sun, go out in it, you're lacking Vitamin D....zombie!" The real joy was once the party started, this damn kid wouldn't leave my side. I moved, bam, there he was. In the words of Pops, go light somewhere. Fantastic, just what my life needs, an audience of a 16 yr old who thinks I'm 'cool'. Yeah, 34, unemployed and I live with HotDog Neck and the stankiest dog known to mankind. Outstanding, I'm someone to emulate. Talk about low expectations in this kid's life. I'm not down on myself, but I'm trying to be realistic. If I'm your idea of cool, get a new idea. I'm only myself, I ain't that special. Other than my Mom thinking I'm cute, I am not exactly setting the world on fire here. Eventually he had to leave (whew) and I got to hang out with the birthday boy and his family. He's done really well for himself, and I hope he's happy with how his life is turning out, because I'm very happy for him.
Sunday was spent doing virtually nothing. Until I got dinner at another friends' house just because he had to pick my brain about football (and I don't want a job BS-ing about sports? Ha!). Hey, you can pay me in grilled chicken, macaroni salad and grilled veggies 6/7 days a week. All I have to do is talk football? Done and done. Any damn day of the week. Oh, and the homemade banana bread with chocolate chips didn't hurt, either.
Now, back to the title of this post. Do I hate her yet? I'll never hate her. I am not particularly fond of how things are, but they are out of my control. And hate is a strong word. Hate is reserved for those that have earned it. How do you hate someone who makes you smile? Makes you shake your head? Can make you confused, happy, goofy, slightly aggravated and stupid all at the same time? It is what it is. And in all honesty, I don't think about it that much. I can't. I have to focus on whatever it is I'm doing, be it writing this blog, thinking of ideas for my script/manuscript, my comedy and if I'll ever get the stones to get back up on stage, or even this God forsaken job search.
And that's about all I have to say for now...
----------------
Now playing: I Hate Kate - It's Always Better
via FoxyTunes
Monday, August 9, 2010
drama, and something nice
Drama-the not so attractive woman's husband who tried to call me out...wow. Yup, that's the truth. Friday night I got a phone call at like 6. I should mention that if I don't know the phone number, I'll even answer those, because I've been looking for a job for so long. So I answered the phone and this guy starts playing 20 questions, the kind of dumb things that make you scratch your head. You can ask me about a woman I worked with 3 years ago but you can't tell me who this is? Had to be a husband. Look, I don't play around with people's wives or lives. Not my style. More importantly, this is not a handsome woman. I'm not going to cap on her, no matter how easy it would be. I will just say not my type and be done with it. But I will also say that I sent this lady a text message telling her to check her husband, and leave me out of whatever stupid crap that is going on. Of course, I got an apology from her (via text-weak) but she's been removed from the contact list. Really, why the drama? Why include me? That gets filed under 'whatever'.
Now, for something nice-I have connected with a very good friend of my Pops in the last few days (ah, the good kind of power that facebook can provide) and was told the following:but you need to know( and I am sure you do) how proud of YOU Richard was. His college boy...The apple of his eye.. He even knew you two were too much alike in the smartass division.
Ah, the smartass division-I've held a ton of time there, and hopefully I've been nice to most people but a complete dick to those that have deserved it.
Enjoy your day!
Is it time for a new blog and/or twitter?
Just curious your thoughts...should I write a blog strictly dedicated to my job search?
Should I open up a twitter account? Or two? You know, one that is all serious and proper (like a business account) and one more like this blog? I'm pretty sure that if a potential employer read this blog that there is no way I'd get hired, they would think I'm two sandwiches short of a picnic.
Let me know what you think...I'll let you know about my weekend and the lovely drama from Friday night later today.
Should I open up a twitter account? Or two? You know, one that is all serious and proper (like a business account) and one more like this blog? I'm pretty sure that if a potential employer read this blog that there is no way I'd get hired, they would think I'm two sandwiches short of a picnic.
Let me know what you think...I'll let you know about my weekend and the lovely drama from Friday night later today.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Get rid of it...
Words that need to be struck from your vocabulary, like now:
basically, actually, um and ad 'whatever'. You're an idiot who can't talk or type, cram it already.
Do not tell me we've had a discussion when it's based off of a text message. That ain't talking. That, to me, is barely a form of communication, one step above grunting like a caveman. Granted, grunting made for a hell of a platform for Tim Allen, but it doesn't give me the warm & fuzzies.
Now, for the reason and the tone of this blog, it's real simple. Those that have read this on some type of 'regular' basis know the meaning of Front St. Others, allow me to introduce you to a concept you may know something about, may have heard of-in some other form-or it may be completely foreign to you. What is Front St.? It's a place where the truth lives, and it's a fantastic neighborhood, but a place that quite a few, hell-most-folks think is a bad place. I happen to think it's a gem, and can't wait until more good folks move in. That means, however, that you have to stop lying and bullshittin', not only to others, but more importantly, to yourself. Another way you may have heard about Front St., in some form, is a phrase I have adopted-"Fuck keeping it real, I keep it right." If you have a hard time with this concept, really do yourself a favor and just quit reading this blog and potentially start to question if you ever want to read a damn thing I write ever again. And I'm dead serious.
So why the turn to Front St.?
Oh, sit back and enjoy the ride. I will allow you all into my little world of noticing the stupidity and classlessness of people whenever I manage to walk out the door. Oh, that and my whole week started off way wrong due to me not sleeping on Sunday. Stupid brain wouldn't stop, and I had a soda after 8. Yup, the joys of rarely drinking soda and being 34 sometimes sure do suck, but I slept damn well yesterday, so you can't pin anything as me being mean due to lack of sleep.
On Monday a friend of mine had a viewing of his Dad at a funeral home. I do not disrespect the dead (well, except Ted Kennedy), but what I walked into kinda irked me. Look, I know where I grew up has a lot to do with how I am, but I'm pretty sure that if I grew up somewhere else, west of the Mississippi, that my parents would have instilled in me the same morals and values that I hold so dear to me today. I don't know how you go to a wake or a funeral, but I sure as hell know how I roll-and that's in a suit and tie. What was everyone else wearing? Jeans, shorts, flip flops, untucked button down shirts....read that again. I asked my buddy if he was going out, because he had on jeans and a going out clubbing shirt. Are you serious? I was and still am baffled. Here's how bad it was, and let me state that after you read this part, no, I'm not kidding: I was about to leave, when my buddy's Uncle walked up to me and said, "Thank you so much for taking your time with him. He's never looked better." Wait, this guy thinks that..yup, I'm the mortician!!! Why would he think that? Oh, because the only other guy in a suit is the damn funeral home director. I didn't flinch and said 'Thank you'. Now ain't the time to go correcting people. And I have no issue taking credit for someone else's work (and they say I can't fit in with the new breed of workers-ha!), at least not in this case. I walked out of the funeral home and and my buddy was behind me when I started chuckling. He asked me why, I told him the whole thing and he laughed his ass off. He then went on to tell me that thru all this stuff, he's impressed that that is the way I show up to things (lemme ask you this, would you rather show up overdressed or underdressed for something? Alrighty then), and that what I just told him will be his biggest memory of the day. Hey, anything to help.
But this goes to a more fundamental issue for me. How in the hell did we (yup, on my soapbox) as a people start to think that dressing like a slob to a wake or a funeral become acceptable? When my Mom, baby Brother and I had the wake for my Pops, I gave a few guys a mulligan, because they had just come from the job site to the early show (Before anyone gets a weird idea, Pops was cremated, there was no 'viewing', which the 3 of us deemed creepy. I have my own feelings on that whole thing that maybe one day I will share with those extremely close to me, but that ain't even making this blog posting), and the job site was like 4 blocks from the funeral home, and Pops was into maintenance work then. Those guys, to the 3 of us, got a pass. But Ma was dressed, I bought my baby Brother a suit, shirt, tie and shoes (side note-there is no better feeling than being able to do that for your family. Yes, the reason sucked, but I will forever be thankful that I was able to do that for him. And damn if the kid didn't just buy a suit off the rack and it fit, bastard) and he was more than presentable. Of course I was in a suit. And I shut my cell phone off...don't get me started about cell phones. I'd like to know when it became okay to treat the death of a loved one like the preamble to a Buffett concert? Oh, and fuck your flip flops, save those damn things for the shower at the gym or the beach, especially guys. Yo feet is nasty, put some damn sneakers on. Ladies, you're exempt, usually because you handle that stuff, and if I have to say it, fine-no flippy floppies to a damn funeral, alright? Damn! Fellas, you are required by decorum to at least wear a sport coat. Don't give me that "it's too hot" crap either. If my fat ass can handle it, so can yours. It's not like you're there all day, you walk in, sign a guest book, state your apology, share your story (or stories), say a prayer (if you do that sort of thing) and be on your way. You can't chuck on a suit or dress like you didn't just roll out of bed for a grand total of 2 hours, 3 tops?
On Tuesday, I got yet another job rejection. However, the rejection will go down as classic in my book. Why the rejection? My skillset on a certain ERP Software platform might be considered out-dated. Can we please add anymore levels of BS to that response? Now, for history purposes I will tell you that I haven't used this platform in 6 years, what can I say I got laid off. That and I didn't get a copy of said software platform as a parting gift, mostly because one doesn't exist and neither does a '-Lite' version for those that want to play at home. Better yet was the fact that during my interview I was told that this was an extremely customized version of said software...so what would be the difference if I came in completely cold or knowing the ins and outs of the software? If you've completely bastardized something, isn't it like looking at something new? At least I got the comforting comment that they really liked me and thought I could do the job...wait, what? Oh nevermind, that commute would've been 80 miles round trip, I ain't driving that long in traffic for a contract job with uptight people, anyways.
Oh, that and I snapped at someone. It was earned. Someone else with self-destructive tendencies wanted to call and complain to me. Sorry, I don't have any customer service awards, and you did this to yourself, so I have no sympathy, empathy or any other type of -pathy. You made your bed, lie in it. You made the decision, deal with the consequences. I am not here to bail you out of trouble, at least not this week. I'm all sold out of feeling sorry for others that fail to use any form of forethought. It's on a tiny shelf in the back, but like I said, I'm all out. Maybe there will be a new shipment in tomorrow, but since it's Shark Week, I doubt it.
Yesterday I was told that there are millions out of work. How does that help me? Can people just stop telling me stupid shit? Like when someone dies "it really puts things in perspective". No, it doesn't. Other than the perspective that I thought you were remotely intelligent yet you've managed to prove you're a dumbass. This whole millions of folks outta work? Thanks Captain Obvious, anything else you'd like to share? Hmmm-water's wet? The sky's blue? How about grass is green? Or the fact that it isn't greener on the other side (no kidding, it's dirt!)? Santa Claus ain't real? That a fat man can't get a humski in a mustang, even if it's a convertible? (Those that know my current living situation will laugh at that one, others may not get the reference, but I will share with any of you that story...and no, it's not about me, I'm not fat, I'm chubby, get it right).
So in light of that millions of people out of work comment, I'm going to use some liberal-speak so some of the dummies can understand it-Quit attempting to diminish my feelings. There, I said it. Better yet, please oh please stop with the one off bologna you all seem so fond of. I don't give a rats ass that while you neglected to notify me to be somewhere at some time you totally forgot to tell someone else some other inane shit. Stop it. Now. Sorry, but this is the portion of the show where I realize that at my sweet age of 34 just how many people are bs-ing not only me, but themselves. Knock it off and grow up. Be accountable. To yourself, first and foremost, and then you can be accountable to others. And stop saying sorry. That damn word has virtually lost all meaning to me, because it's no longer sincere. Or that other one-"I'm sorry you feel that way." Fuck you. Don't put it back on me because you screwed up. Own it and then apologize, that'll grab my attention. Once again I need to be damn near shocked into disbelief. And you know where all this crap comes from, too, don't you? Lawyers and Psychobabblers. Yeah, I said it. Shakespeare had it right. ("First, kill all the lawyers") And while I'm at it, tell me how you think the Feeler Nation has turned out. While I'm glad that some folks have gotten the help they needed (and I mean real Anger Management therapy, not hold your hands and discuss your problems or blame someone else for you being an asshole), I think that we've become a bunch of pussified slobs. Oh, that and you just have to accept certain things...uh, WRONG! Only thru the non-acceptance of things have we as a people (hell, as a nation) gotten some stuff done. Think I'm nuts? Fine. Then ask yourself how it is to have women vote or have someone with a better tan (apparently the term is 'black', I have no idea why, they're not black they're brown, from the boogie down (I swear on all things hip hop you better get that reference!)) is no longer considered 3/5 of a man, or hell, I'll go way back, that the earth isn't flat? I believe the words you are now looking for are 'Ta' and 'Da'.
My last little gripe is for those who live on their cell phones, the iPhones, new Droids, whatever. And that minute notice is this: BE IN THE DAMN MOMENT ALREADY!!! I'm dead serious. Quit looking at your phone while talking to me, at least have the common decency to excuse yourself. Etiquette and phone etiquette in particular have fallen off the planet. Get some manners, read Rogers Rules, I don't really care how you do it, but do it. You want to talk to me, fine, but the next person that calls me and then after 10 seconds has to click over to another line, you, you're getting hung up on. You called me, not the other way around. Oh, and a word to the wise, some of you will be getting shorter and shorter answers from me, because you can't possibly be bothered to have a conversation. No sweat, just don't have one then. Enjoy your 'friends' on facebook and all those stupid status updates. Believe me, no one cares. Well, no one but that girl or guy who is misinformed enough to think that you might be an item. When the hell did your facebook status reflect what is really going on? I caught myself two weeks ago telling someone that if their relationship wasn't on facebook it wasn't real. I was kidding, but I heard someone else say it yesterday, and they meant it!
My beard is gone
Why? Well, I initially grew the damn thing because it was my Playoff Beard. Then the playoffs were over, and I trimmed it down. And face it, most importantly, it wasn't lucky. The Bruins and the Celtics didn't win it all. The Red Sox look like the Pawtucket lineup or a wing of a hospital. Most importantly, I have received less phone calls about jobs than before I had the beard. So off it came yesterday. Oh, and I realized how damn old I looked in that thing on Wednesday night. Damn there was a ton of white in that thing. Sure, I looked fantastic, but fantastic for a guy who is 42...I ain't there yet! I'm more than alright with my age and standing, but no need to tack on 8 years here people.
Sports
Brett Fav-ruh is a cockknocker. There, I said that, too. Will he/won't he? Weren't we here-last summer? And the summer before? And now there are rumors on the internet (look this one up on your own, I refuse to link to it) that he sent pictures of his old man twig and giggleberries to someone. Uh, Brett? No one wants to see old guy junk. Hell, I don't want to see any other man's junk, nor do I spend a whole lot of free time staring at my own (and believe me, I have a LOT of free time). I hate this new 'sexting' thing, kinda gross, at least with the pictures. Now, the whole flirting over text, that's cool. But the picture thing has got to stop. Especially by old quarterbacks. Hey, look on the bright side (?), at least it wasn't an O-Lineman, right? Yikes!
Anyone else think that the Broncos front office is sitting at a Waffle House, drowning their collective sorrow in maple syrup? Sign a good guy to a fat contract, and then two weeks later he blows out a pectoral muscle, thus rendering the pass rush to nothing? Oh, and he was the sack leader in the NFL last year....no biggie. Damn!
So the Celtics sign Shaquille O'Neal. Oh, and they signed Jermaine O'Neal. This would be fantastic news if it were the offseason of the coming 2005 season. However, it's the coming 2011 season. Why would it be great if this were the 2005 offseason? Easy, check this box score from the 2004 All-Star game...some of those names sure do look familiar, don't they?
How pissed off do you think Laurence Fishburne is? Think he's nominated for Father of the Year at the AVN awards? I'm just askin'!!
As far as the rest of my life goes, right now, leave it alone. My life sounds like a shitty country song. It's not, but it just sounds like one. I'm laughing thru most of it. Why? Oh come on, this is hilarious. It would be one thing if I were a moron who wasn't trying all sorts of things to get employment. But I know different. This stuff is now becoming comical. I may just start going after jobs I know I can do in my sleep, just to screw around with interviews.
Happy Weekend, and have a blast out there.
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Now playing: Living Colour - Cult Of Personality
via FoxyTunes
basically, actually, um and ad 'whatever'. You're an idiot who can't talk or type, cram it already.
Do not tell me we've had a discussion when it's based off of a text message. That ain't talking. That, to me, is barely a form of communication, one step above grunting like a caveman. Granted, grunting made for a hell of a platform for Tim Allen, but it doesn't give me the warm & fuzzies.
Now, for the reason and the tone of this blog, it's real simple. Those that have read this on some type of 'regular' basis know the meaning of Front St. Others, allow me to introduce you to a concept you may know something about, may have heard of-in some other form-or it may be completely foreign to you. What is Front St.? It's a place where the truth lives, and it's a fantastic neighborhood, but a place that quite a few, hell-most-folks think is a bad place. I happen to think it's a gem, and can't wait until more good folks move in. That means, however, that you have to stop lying and bullshittin', not only to others, but more importantly, to yourself. Another way you may have heard about Front St., in some form, is a phrase I have adopted-"Fuck keeping it real, I keep it right." If you have a hard time with this concept, really do yourself a favor and just quit reading this blog and potentially start to question if you ever want to read a damn thing I write ever again. And I'm dead serious.
So why the turn to Front St.?
Oh, sit back and enjoy the ride. I will allow you all into my little world of noticing the stupidity and classlessness of people whenever I manage to walk out the door. Oh, that and my whole week started off way wrong due to me not sleeping on Sunday. Stupid brain wouldn't stop, and I had a soda after 8. Yup, the joys of rarely drinking soda and being 34 sometimes sure do suck, but I slept damn well yesterday, so you can't pin anything as me being mean due to lack of sleep.
On Monday a friend of mine had a viewing of his Dad at a funeral home. I do not disrespect the dead (well, except Ted Kennedy), but what I walked into kinda irked me. Look, I know where I grew up has a lot to do with how I am, but I'm pretty sure that if I grew up somewhere else, west of the Mississippi, that my parents would have instilled in me the same morals and values that I hold so dear to me today. I don't know how you go to a wake or a funeral, but I sure as hell know how I roll-and that's in a suit and tie. What was everyone else wearing? Jeans, shorts, flip flops, untucked button down shirts....read that again. I asked my buddy if he was going out, because he had on jeans and a going out clubbing shirt. Are you serious? I was and still am baffled. Here's how bad it was, and let me state that after you read this part, no, I'm not kidding: I was about to leave, when my buddy's Uncle walked up to me and said, "Thank you so much for taking your time with him. He's never looked better." Wait, this guy thinks that..yup, I'm the mortician!!! Why would he think that? Oh, because the only other guy in a suit is the damn funeral home director. I didn't flinch and said 'Thank you'. Now ain't the time to go correcting people. And I have no issue taking credit for someone else's work (and they say I can't fit in with the new breed of workers-ha!), at least not in this case. I walked out of the funeral home and and my buddy was behind me when I started chuckling. He asked me why, I told him the whole thing and he laughed his ass off. He then went on to tell me that thru all this stuff, he's impressed that that is the way I show up to things (lemme ask you this, would you rather show up overdressed or underdressed for something? Alrighty then), and that what I just told him will be his biggest memory of the day. Hey, anything to help.
But this goes to a more fundamental issue for me. How in the hell did we (yup, on my soapbox) as a people start to think that dressing like a slob to a wake or a funeral become acceptable? When my Mom, baby Brother and I had the wake for my Pops, I gave a few guys a mulligan, because they had just come from the job site to the early show (Before anyone gets a weird idea, Pops was cremated, there was no 'viewing', which the 3 of us deemed creepy. I have my own feelings on that whole thing that maybe one day I will share with those extremely close to me, but that ain't even making this blog posting), and the job site was like 4 blocks from the funeral home, and Pops was into maintenance work then. Those guys, to the 3 of us, got a pass. But Ma was dressed, I bought my baby Brother a suit, shirt, tie and shoes (side note-there is no better feeling than being able to do that for your family. Yes, the reason sucked, but I will forever be thankful that I was able to do that for him. And damn if the kid didn't just buy a suit off the rack and it fit, bastard) and he was more than presentable. Of course I was in a suit. And I shut my cell phone off...don't get me started about cell phones. I'd like to know when it became okay to treat the death of a loved one like the preamble to a Buffett concert? Oh, and fuck your flip flops, save those damn things for the shower at the gym or the beach, especially guys. Yo feet is nasty, put some damn sneakers on. Ladies, you're exempt, usually because you handle that stuff, and if I have to say it, fine-no flippy floppies to a damn funeral, alright? Damn! Fellas, you are required by decorum to at least wear a sport coat. Don't give me that "it's too hot" crap either. If my fat ass can handle it, so can yours. It's not like you're there all day, you walk in, sign a guest book, state your apology, share your story (or stories), say a prayer (if you do that sort of thing) and be on your way. You can't chuck on a suit or dress like you didn't just roll out of bed for a grand total of 2 hours, 3 tops?
On Tuesday, I got yet another job rejection. However, the rejection will go down as classic in my book. Why the rejection? My skillset on a certain ERP Software platform might be considered out-dated. Can we please add anymore levels of BS to that response? Now, for history purposes I will tell you that I haven't used this platform in 6 years, what can I say I got laid off. That and I didn't get a copy of said software platform as a parting gift, mostly because one doesn't exist and neither does a '-Lite' version for those that want to play at home. Better yet was the fact that during my interview I was told that this was an extremely customized version of said software...so what would be the difference if I came in completely cold or knowing the ins and outs of the software? If you've completely bastardized something, isn't it like looking at something new? At least I got the comforting comment that they really liked me and thought I could do the job...wait, what? Oh nevermind, that commute would've been 80 miles round trip, I ain't driving that long in traffic for a contract job with uptight people, anyways.
Oh, that and I snapped at someone. It was earned. Someone else with self-destructive tendencies wanted to call and complain to me. Sorry, I don't have any customer service awards, and you did this to yourself, so I have no sympathy, empathy or any other type of -pathy. You made your bed, lie in it. You made the decision, deal with the consequences. I am not here to bail you out of trouble, at least not this week. I'm all sold out of feeling sorry for others that fail to use any form of forethought. It's on a tiny shelf in the back, but like I said, I'm all out. Maybe there will be a new shipment in tomorrow, but since it's Shark Week, I doubt it.
Yesterday I was told that there are millions out of work. How does that help me? Can people just stop telling me stupid shit? Like when someone dies "it really puts things in perspective". No, it doesn't. Other than the perspective that I thought you were remotely intelligent yet you've managed to prove you're a dumbass. This whole millions of folks outta work? Thanks Captain Obvious, anything else you'd like to share? Hmmm-water's wet? The sky's blue? How about grass is green? Or the fact that it isn't greener on the other side (no kidding, it's dirt!)? Santa Claus ain't real? That a fat man can't get a humski in a mustang, even if it's a convertible? (Those that know my current living situation will laugh at that one, others may not get the reference, but I will share with any of you that story...and no, it's not about me, I'm not fat, I'm chubby, get it right).
So in light of that millions of people out of work comment, I'm going to use some liberal-speak so some of the dummies can understand it-Quit attempting to diminish my feelings. There, I said it. Better yet, please oh please stop with the one off bologna you all seem so fond of. I don't give a rats ass that while you neglected to notify me to be somewhere at some time you totally forgot to tell someone else some other inane shit. Stop it. Now. Sorry, but this is the portion of the show where I realize that at my sweet age of 34 just how many people are bs-ing not only me, but themselves. Knock it off and grow up. Be accountable. To yourself, first and foremost, and then you can be accountable to others. And stop saying sorry. That damn word has virtually lost all meaning to me, because it's no longer sincere. Or that other one-"I'm sorry you feel that way." Fuck you. Don't put it back on me because you screwed up. Own it and then apologize, that'll grab my attention. Once again I need to be damn near shocked into disbelief. And you know where all this crap comes from, too, don't you? Lawyers and Psychobabblers. Yeah, I said it. Shakespeare had it right. ("First, kill all the lawyers") And while I'm at it, tell me how you think the Feeler Nation has turned out. While I'm glad that some folks have gotten the help they needed (and I mean real Anger Management therapy, not hold your hands and discuss your problems or blame someone else for you being an asshole), I think that we've become a bunch of pussified slobs. Oh, that and you just have to accept certain things...uh, WRONG! Only thru the non-acceptance of things have we as a people (hell, as a nation) gotten some stuff done. Think I'm nuts? Fine. Then ask yourself how it is to have women vote or have someone with a better tan (apparently the term is 'black', I have no idea why, they're not black they're brown, from the boogie down (I swear on all things hip hop you better get that reference!)) is no longer considered 3/5 of a man, or hell, I'll go way back, that the earth isn't flat? I believe the words you are now looking for are 'Ta' and 'Da'.
My last little gripe is for those who live on their cell phones, the iPhones, new Droids, whatever. And that minute notice is this: BE IN THE DAMN MOMENT ALREADY!!! I'm dead serious. Quit looking at your phone while talking to me, at least have the common decency to excuse yourself. Etiquette and phone etiquette in particular have fallen off the planet. Get some manners, read Rogers Rules, I don't really care how you do it, but do it. You want to talk to me, fine, but the next person that calls me and then after 10 seconds has to click over to another line, you, you're getting hung up on. You called me, not the other way around. Oh, and a word to the wise, some of you will be getting shorter and shorter answers from me, because you can't possibly be bothered to have a conversation. No sweat, just don't have one then. Enjoy your 'friends' on facebook and all those stupid status updates. Believe me, no one cares. Well, no one but that girl or guy who is misinformed enough to think that you might be an item. When the hell did your facebook status reflect what is really going on? I caught myself two weeks ago telling someone that if their relationship wasn't on facebook it wasn't real. I was kidding, but I heard someone else say it yesterday, and they meant it!
My beard is gone
Why? Well, I initially grew the damn thing because it was my Playoff Beard. Then the playoffs were over, and I trimmed it down. And face it, most importantly, it wasn't lucky. The Bruins and the Celtics didn't win it all. The Red Sox look like the Pawtucket lineup or a wing of a hospital. Most importantly, I have received less phone calls about jobs than before I had the beard. So off it came yesterday. Oh, and I realized how damn old I looked in that thing on Wednesday night. Damn there was a ton of white in that thing. Sure, I looked fantastic, but fantastic for a guy who is 42...I ain't there yet! I'm more than alright with my age and standing, but no need to tack on 8 years here people.
Sports
Brett Fav-ruh is a cockknocker. There, I said that, too. Will he/won't he? Weren't we here-last summer? And the summer before? And now there are rumors on the internet (look this one up on your own, I refuse to link to it) that he sent pictures of his old man twig and giggleberries to someone. Uh, Brett? No one wants to see old guy junk. Hell, I don't want to see any other man's junk, nor do I spend a whole lot of free time staring at my own (and believe me, I have a LOT of free time). I hate this new 'sexting' thing, kinda gross, at least with the pictures. Now, the whole flirting over text, that's cool. But the picture thing has got to stop. Especially by old quarterbacks. Hey, look on the bright side (?), at least it wasn't an O-Lineman, right? Yikes!
Anyone else think that the Broncos front office is sitting at a Waffle House, drowning their collective sorrow in maple syrup? Sign a good guy to a fat contract, and then two weeks later he blows out a pectoral muscle, thus rendering the pass rush to nothing? Oh, and he was the sack leader in the NFL last year....no biggie. Damn!
So the Celtics sign Shaquille O'Neal. Oh, and they signed Jermaine O'Neal. This would be fantastic news if it were the offseason of the coming 2005 season. However, it's the coming 2011 season. Why would it be great if this were the 2005 offseason? Easy, check this box score from the 2004 All-Star game...some of those names sure do look familiar, don't they?
How pissed off do you think Laurence Fishburne is? Think he's nominated for Father of the Year at the AVN awards? I'm just askin'!!
As far as the rest of my life goes, right now, leave it alone. My life sounds like a shitty country song. It's not, but it just sounds like one. I'm laughing thru most of it. Why? Oh come on, this is hilarious. It would be one thing if I were a moron who wasn't trying all sorts of things to get employment. But I know different. This stuff is now becoming comical. I may just start going after jobs I know I can do in my sleep, just to screw around with interviews.
Happy Weekend, and have a blast out there.
----------------
Now playing: Living Colour - Cult Of Personality
via FoxyTunes
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