It's a quiet Sunday night at the grand old hotel. Most of the guests have already arrived and gone to bed. One arrival remains. I finished my paperwork in the first hour I was here, so I'm at the front door waiting on the last arrival and reading a book about John Steinbeck. As often happens, reading about writers makes me want to write.
Much of the quiet is due to the absence of some of the usual people. Keven, the overnight houseman, has Sundays off. Karen, from Loss Prevention (our pretentious designation for our security department) has decided that she doesn't want to work on Sundays either. I haven't asked her yet how she's managing to maintain her 30 hour per week work requirement to keep her health insurance. Her husband, and my best friend, Ted, called in sick earlier tonight, and his absence makes things particularly quiet. So it's just me, and Jay, and Mike: valet, front desk, and LP.
The kids from Paycom are here this week. They are a group of uncommonly attractive twenty-somethings here for some kind of training. We get a different set of kids each time they stay with us, which is about every three weeks or so. One of our bar waiters commented recently that Paycom must have some pretty shallow hiring standards to have every person in every group to be so attractive. The valet staff doesn't care for them. They don't tip, and often they exhibit a rather privileged attitude, which probably is encouraged by the fact that I bring all their cars around early in the morning. I'm sure they think that I do that because there are so many of them and they all come down at once. Some of them might think it's because they're special. The actual reason is because we don't have universal health care in this country.
To elucidate, all of our morning guys have their kids on their health insurance, which means that they don't get a substantial paycheck. All of their spendable income is from their tips. If the guest doesn't tip, they're basically working for free. I don't have that problem, so I bring around the Paycom cars before the morning guys get here. All the morning guys have to do is hand them their keys.
Mike just walked by and asked if there were any homeless people. I haven't seen any. In fact, I haven't seen homeless Joel in a week. Normally he's camped in the third floor of the heated entrance to the parking garage next door. He frequently stops by to buy candy bars and get coffee . Nobody has seen him since last Monday morning. I'm kind of worried about him.
I'm missing Ted tonight too. I have a book to give him, and I wanted to tell him about how I totally trolled one of my FOXhead friends on Facebook. I was able to do it solely because this guy never ever looks anything up, never does any kind of research or fact-checking. He's perfectly happy in an ignorance that suits his prejudices. He posted a meme that said "Kill one terrorist and the world is outraged. Iran shoots down a commercial airliner and kills 179 civilians, crickets!!!!!" I replied, "Haven't heard much about flight 655 either. 290 people killed on that one." He liked that. Now, is he going to do any research and find out that flight 655 was the Iranian airliner that the Americans accidentally shot down in 1988? Not a chance.
Okay, I'm done gloating.
My Dad and I went to the airport to pick up my brother. Tomorrow is Christmas, because that's the way the Savage family does things. We haven't seen each other in years, and I expected the ride back to be full of conversation, but that wasn't the case. It might have been the group dynamics. Our Dad would have been a captive audience had Scott and I engaged in the usual stuff we talk about when we're on the phone. I've often had the fantasy of talking politics with Scott at the dining room table in front of my parents,but somehow in the car it just seemed wrong, and we, all of us, have never been good at small talk. But we have Monday night and all day Tuesday before I have to go back to a normal schedule.
Now it's lunchtime: 2:30am. Still two and a half hours before I have to start bringing Paycom around. I might get a lot of of this book read before then, unless i get sucked into Netflix. We'll see how I feel.
Showing posts with label ruminations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ruminations. Show all posts
Monday, January 13, 2020
Thursday, January 2, 2020
The Heavy Lift
Optimism is not exactly something that’s just lying around on the floor, waiting to be picked up. It’s something we have to work for again. It’s a heavy lift, but a necessary one. All we have as we enter 2020 is, well, us. - Charles P Pierce in Esquire
Tuesday evening, New Year's Eve, as I was standing in the shower, getting ready for work, I had the thought that 2020 was going to be a year of loss. I don't what that means. I'm not generally a pessimistic person. I'm not prone to premonitions, like Gaby, nor am I the unrepentant cynic like my bff Ted, but I just haven't been able to shake this idea from my mind. I wouldn't know how to discuss it with anyone. It's just there. And I don't know what to think or do about it.
Monday, April 11, 2016
Video "Seeing Beauty Everywhere
Seeing Beauty EverywhereMotivational Philosopher, Jay Shetty encourages us to see beauty everywhere.
Posted by HuffPost Good News on Saturday, April 9, 2016
Monday, August 31, 2015
Rooms In My Head
Sometimes I write in this blog just to clear my own mind about stuff going on in my life. Lately, I've been copying and pasting a lot of stuff just because the author reflects my point of view and puts it a cleverer way than I could. And then there are the Foxworld posts with their mini observations. It seems rare anymore that I write just to let my readers know what's going on with me. This is just such a post.
I've been working at the hotel now for eight years. Before this one, I worked at another hotel for four. Both were on the overnight shift. For personal reasons, I had committed to stay at my current job until the end of next summer. By that time, I will have been nocturnal for thirteen years. As much as I love my job and the place I work, I'm tired. I want to do something else.
So, for the next eleven months, I'm going to be exploring my options. There's some things I have to consider: my age and my health insurance being two of them, and what type of job. I really like working with the public and meeting new people all the time. I got offered two jobs just from giving the tour of the hotel. One gentleman suggested that with my knowledge of OKC's architectural history, I should work for him as a water taxi driver in Bricktown. Another, for the same reason, said I should become a public relations guy for the City of Tulsa. Both offers just came along at the wrong time. And now, with Gaby's job being more important than mine, moving to another city is not really an option.
One of the things I'd like to do is to talk to people who are actually doing the things I'm interested in. I have friends on Facebook that are just such people, and I'd really like to sit down with them and talk about what they do, and see if they can offer any advice. (This would also be part of a larger plan to get to know some of my Facebook friends who are only acquaintances in real life.)
If my world were different, I'd really like to spend my days concentrating on my art. I used to do just that, but real life interfered, and I just don't know how to restart. I've let things fall apart so much that I think I'd have to take a few months off just to do the prep work.
That being said, I have started a new adventure in my artwork. A friend of mine convinced me that the photos that I take, manipulate on the computer, and then set aside for the purpose of eventually maybe possibly in the future getting around to drawing or painting, are, in fact, works of art in themselves, and that I need to just find a good printer and mat, frame and sell what I've got.
Framemasters, here in Edmond, has a giclée machine.
I'm so pleased and excited about the way these look I could just bust. But I've got to make a big investment this year in framing and printing. I intend to have at least a dozen of them to show at the Edmond show next spring.
As many of you know, Gaby and I went through immigration last year, and last summer he got his green card. That gives him the ability to travel, and our intention is to go see his family in Chihuahua ASAP. The biggest obstacle has been that he has to have a Mexican passport, and that has to be gotten through the Mexican Embassy. There is a traveling consulate that one can go to when it comes to town, but they aren't very good at keeping their online schedule up to date. Fortunately, the agency where Gaby works keep track of this stuff, and finally, a year after he got his green card, he's got an appointment this week to get his passport. That means we'll be able to start making plans within a few weeks.
Just one hitch: Chihuahua is one of the cities noted for violence, killings, kidnappings. And my sisters-in-law live in Ciudad Juarez, which is even worse. I want to go, but I have to admit I'm more than a bit nervous. I'm going to be relying on advice from my in-laws about safety on this trip. But I really want to go. There are photos that need to be taken.
We went to see a new doctor last week. We really like him; he listens, and he really seems to know his stuff. Also, he's not afraid to talk about money and how we can save some on healthcare. We've both been given referrals to specialists, a sleep specialist for Gaby, and one that that can take movies of my innards. I could talk more about the state of our health, but I haven't gotten my lab results back yet (because of my schedule, not because they aren't ready.)
Gaby was told he needs to lose 35 pounds. (He's actually 70 pounds overweight, according to the insurance charts, but, you know, baby steps.) I need to lose about 30 myself. That will require a plan, and we haven't sat down to make one yet. But as I sit here typing, I'm feeling the achiness that comes with being too sedentary.
They say a man's mind is like a house with a lot of rooms. These are the rooms in my mind where the lights are on. I've got a three day weekend this week. Maybe I'll get something done in one of these rooms.
I've been working at the hotel now for eight years. Before this one, I worked at another hotel for four. Both were on the overnight shift. For personal reasons, I had committed to stay at my current job until the end of next summer. By that time, I will have been nocturnal for thirteen years. As much as I love my job and the place I work, I'm tired. I want to do something else.
So, for the next eleven months, I'm going to be exploring my options. There's some things I have to consider: my age and my health insurance being two of them, and what type of job. I really like working with the public and meeting new people all the time. I got offered two jobs just from giving the tour of the hotel. One gentleman suggested that with my knowledge of OKC's architectural history, I should work for him as a water taxi driver in Bricktown. Another, for the same reason, said I should become a public relations guy for the City of Tulsa. Both offers just came along at the wrong time. And now, with Gaby's job being more important than mine, moving to another city is not really an option.
One of the things I'd like to do is to talk to people who are actually doing the things I'm interested in. I have friends on Facebook that are just such people, and I'd really like to sit down with them and talk about what they do, and see if they can offer any advice. (This would also be part of a larger plan to get to know some of my Facebook friends who are only acquaintances in real life.)
If my world were different, I'd really like to spend my days concentrating on my art. I used to do just that, but real life interfered, and I just don't know how to restart. I've let things fall apart so much that I think I'd have to take a few months off just to do the prep work.
That being said, I have started a new adventure in my artwork. A friend of mine convinced me that the photos that I take, manipulate on the computer, and then set aside for the purpose of eventually maybe possibly in the future getting around to drawing or painting, are, in fact, works of art in themselves, and that I need to just find a good printer and mat, frame and sell what I've got.
Framemasters, here in Edmond, has a giclée machine.
As many of you know, Gaby and I went through immigration last year, and last summer he got his green card. That gives him the ability to travel, and our intention is to go see his family in Chihuahua ASAP. The biggest obstacle has been that he has to have a Mexican passport, and that has to be gotten through the Mexican Embassy. There is a traveling consulate that one can go to when it comes to town, but they aren't very good at keeping their online schedule up to date. Fortunately, the agency where Gaby works keep track of this stuff, and finally, a year after he got his green card, he's got an appointment this week to get his passport. That means we'll be able to start making plans within a few weeks.
Just one hitch: Chihuahua is one of the cities noted for violence, killings, kidnappings. And my sisters-in-law live in Ciudad Juarez, which is even worse. I want to go, but I have to admit I'm more than a bit nervous. I'm going to be relying on advice from my in-laws about safety on this trip. But I really want to go. There are photos that need to be taken.
We went to see a new doctor last week. We really like him; he listens, and he really seems to know his stuff. Also, he's not afraid to talk about money and how we can save some on healthcare. We've both been given referrals to specialists, a sleep specialist for Gaby, and one that that can take movies of my innards. I could talk more about the state of our health, but I haven't gotten my lab results back yet (because of my schedule, not because they aren't ready.)
Gaby was told he needs to lose 35 pounds. (He's actually 70 pounds overweight, according to the insurance charts, but, you know, baby steps.) I need to lose about 30 myself. That will require a plan, and we haven't sat down to make one yet. But as I sit here typing, I'm feeling the achiness that comes with being too sedentary.
They say a man's mind is like a house with a lot of rooms. These are the rooms in my mind where the lights are on. I've got a three day weekend this week. Maybe I'll get something done in one of these rooms.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Those Top 37 Things You’ll Regret When You’re Old
Those Top 37 Things You’ll Regret When You’re Old
1. Not traveling when you had the chance.
Traveling becomes infinitely harder the older you get, especially if you have a family and need to pay the way for three-plus people instead of just yourself.
2. Not learning another language.
You’ll kick yourself when you realize you took three years of language in high school and remember none of it.
3. Staying in a bad relationship.
No one who ever gets out of a bad relationship looks back without wishing they made the move sooner.
4. Forgoing sunscreen.
Wrinkles, moles, and skin cancer can largely be avoided if you protect yourself.
5. Missing the chance to see your favorite musicians.
“Nah, dude, I’ll catch Nirvana next time they come through town.” Facepalm.
6. Being scared to do things.
Looking back you’ll think, What was I so afraid of?
7. Failing to make physical fitness a priority.
Too many of us spend the physical peak of our lives on the couch. When you hit 40, 50, 60, and beyond, you’ll dream of what you could have done.
8. Letting yourself be defined by gender roles.
Few things are as sad as an old person saying, “Well, it just wasn’t done back then.”
9. Not quitting a terrible job.
Look, you gotta pay the bills. But if you don’t make a plan to improve your situation, you might wake up one day having spent 40 years in hell.
10. Not trying harder in school.
It’s not just that your grades play a role in determining where you end up in life. Eventually you’ll realize how neat it was to get to spend all day learning, and wish you’d paid more attention.
11. Not realizing how beautiful you were.
Too many of us spend our youth unhappy with the way we look, but the reality is, that’s when we’re our most beautiful.
12. Being afraid to say “I love you.”
When you’re old, you won’t care if your love wasn’t returned — only that you made it known how you felt.
13. Not listening to your parents’ advice.
You don’t want to hear it when you’re young, but the infuriating truth is that most of what your parents say about life is true.
14. Spending your youth self-absorbed.
You’ll be embarrassed about it, frankly.
15. Caring too much about what other people think.
In 20 years you won’t give a darn about any of those people you once worried so much about.
16. Supporting others’ dreams over your own.
Supporting others is a beautiful thing, but not when it means you never get to shine.
17. Not moving on fast enough.
Old people look back at the long periods spent picking themselves off the ground as nothing but wasted time.
18. Holding grudges, especially with those you love.
What’s the point of re-living the anger over and over?
19. Not standing up for yourself.
Old people don’t take sh*t from anyone. Neither should you.
20. Not volunteering enough.
OK, so you probably won’t regret not volunteering Hunger Games style, but nearing the end of one’s life without having helped to make the world a better place is a great source of sadness for many.
21. Neglecting your teeth.
Neglecting your teeth.
Brush. Floss. Get regular checkups. It will all seem so maddeningly easy when you have dentures.
22. Missing the chance to ask your grandparents questions before they die.
Most of us realize too late what an awesome resource grandparents are. They can explain everything you’ll ever wonder about where you came from, but only if you ask them in time.
23. Working too much.
No one looks back from their deathbed and wishes they spent more time at the office, but they do wish they spent more time with family, friends, and hobbies.
24. Not learning how to cook one awesome meal.
Knowing one drool-worthy meal will make all those dinner parties and celebrations that much more special.
25. Not stopping enough to appreciate the moment.
Young people are constantly on the go, but stopping to take it all in now and again is a good thing.
26. Failing to finish what you start.
Failing to finish what you start.
“I had big dreams of becoming a nurse. I even signed up for the classes, but then…”
27. Never mastering one awesome party trick.
You will go to hundreds, if not thousands, of parties in your life. Wouldn’t it be cool to be the life of them all?
28. Letting yourself be defined by cultural expectations.
Letting yourself be defined by cultural expectations.
Don’t let them tell you, “We don’t do that.”
29. Refusing to let friendships run their course.
People grow apart. Clinging to what was, instead of acknowledging that things have changed, can be a source of ongoing agitation and sadness.
30. Not playing with your kids enough.
When you’re old, you’ll realize your kid went from wanting to play with you to wanting you out of their room in the blink of an eye.
31. Never taking a big risk (especially in love).
Knowing that you took a leap of faith at least once — even if you fell flat on your face — will be a great comfort when you’re old.
32. Not taking the time to develop contacts and network.
Networking may seem like a bunch of crap when you’re young, but later on it becomes clear that it’s how so many jobs are won.
33. Worrying too much.
As Tom Petty sang, “Most things I worry about never happen anyway.”
34. Getting caught up in needless drama.
Who needs it?
35. Not spending enough time with loved ones.
Not spending enough time with loved ones.
Our time with our loved ones is finite. Make it count.
36. Never performing in front of others.
This isn’t a regret for everyone, but many elderly people wish they knew — just once — what it was like to stand in front of a crowd and show off their talents.
37. Not being grateful sooner.
It can be hard to see in the beginning, but eventually it becomes clear that every moment on this earth — from the mundane to the amazing — is a gift that we’re all so incredibly lucky to share.
Traveling becomes infinitely harder the older you get, especially if you have a family and need to pay the way for three-plus people instead of just yourself.
2. Not learning another language.
You’ll kick yourself when you realize you took three years of language in high school and remember none of it.
3. Staying in a bad relationship.
No one who ever gets out of a bad relationship looks back without wishing they made the move sooner.
4. Forgoing sunscreen.
Wrinkles, moles, and skin cancer can largely be avoided if you protect yourself.
5. Missing the chance to see your favorite musicians.
“Nah, dude, I’ll catch Nirvana next time they come through town.” Facepalm.
6. Being scared to do things.
Looking back you’ll think, What was I so afraid of?
7. Failing to make physical fitness a priority.
Too many of us spend the physical peak of our lives on the couch. When you hit 40, 50, 60, and beyond, you’ll dream of what you could have done.
8. Letting yourself be defined by gender roles.
Few things are as sad as an old person saying, “Well, it just wasn’t done back then.”
9. Not quitting a terrible job.
Look, you gotta pay the bills. But if you don’t make a plan to improve your situation, you might wake up one day having spent 40 years in hell.
10. Not trying harder in school.
It’s not just that your grades play a role in determining where you end up in life. Eventually you’ll realize how neat it was to get to spend all day learning, and wish you’d paid more attention.
11. Not realizing how beautiful you were.
Too many of us spend our youth unhappy with the way we look, but the reality is, that’s when we’re our most beautiful.
12. Being afraid to say “I love you.”
When you’re old, you won’t care if your love wasn’t returned — only that you made it known how you felt.
13. Not listening to your parents’ advice.
You don’t want to hear it when you’re young, but the infuriating truth is that most of what your parents say about life is true.
14. Spending your youth self-absorbed.
You’ll be embarrassed about it, frankly.
15. Caring too much about what other people think.
In 20 years you won’t give a darn about any of those people you once worried so much about.
16. Supporting others’ dreams over your own.
Supporting others is a beautiful thing, but not when it means you never get to shine.
17. Not moving on fast enough.
Old people look back at the long periods spent picking themselves off the ground as nothing but wasted time.
18. Holding grudges, especially with those you love.
What’s the point of re-living the anger over and over?
19. Not standing up for yourself.
Old people don’t take sh*t from anyone. Neither should you.
20. Not volunteering enough.
OK, so you probably won’t regret not volunteering Hunger Games style, but nearing the end of one’s life without having helped to make the world a better place is a great source of sadness for many.
21. Neglecting your teeth.
Neglecting your teeth.
Brush. Floss. Get regular checkups. It will all seem so maddeningly easy when you have dentures.
22. Missing the chance to ask your grandparents questions before they die.
Most of us realize too late what an awesome resource grandparents are. They can explain everything you’ll ever wonder about where you came from, but only if you ask them in time.
23. Working too much.
No one looks back from their deathbed and wishes they spent more time at the office, but they do wish they spent more time with family, friends, and hobbies.
24. Not learning how to cook one awesome meal.
Knowing one drool-worthy meal will make all those dinner parties and celebrations that much more special.
25. Not stopping enough to appreciate the moment.
Young people are constantly on the go, but stopping to take it all in now and again is a good thing.
26. Failing to finish what you start.
Failing to finish what you start.
“I had big dreams of becoming a nurse. I even signed up for the classes, but then…”
27. Never mastering one awesome party trick.
You will go to hundreds, if not thousands, of parties in your life. Wouldn’t it be cool to be the life of them all?
28. Letting yourself be defined by cultural expectations.
Letting yourself be defined by cultural expectations.
Don’t let them tell you, “We don’t do that.”
29. Refusing to let friendships run their course.
People grow apart. Clinging to what was, instead of acknowledging that things have changed, can be a source of ongoing agitation and sadness.
30. Not playing with your kids enough.
When you’re old, you’ll realize your kid went from wanting to play with you to wanting you out of their room in the blink of an eye.
31. Never taking a big risk (especially in love).
Knowing that you took a leap of faith at least once — even if you fell flat on your face — will be a great comfort when you’re old.
32. Not taking the time to develop contacts and network.
Networking may seem like a bunch of crap when you’re young, but later on it becomes clear that it’s how so many jobs are won.
33. Worrying too much.
As Tom Petty sang, “Most things I worry about never happen anyway.”
34. Getting caught up in needless drama.
Who needs it?
35. Not spending enough time with loved ones.
Not spending enough time with loved ones.
Our time with our loved ones is finite. Make it count.
36. Never performing in front of others.
This isn’t a regret for everyone, but many elderly people wish they knew — just once — what it was like to stand in front of a crowd and show off their talents.
37. Not being grateful sooner.
It can be hard to see in the beginning, but eventually it becomes clear that every moment on this earth — from the mundane to the amazing — is a gift that we’re all so incredibly lucky to share.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
The Bolin Rant (language)
John Bolin · Miami, FL · . Posted in response to someone suggesting my step-son is somewhat of a lazy bum that is just trying to suck momma's titties at the age of 26. Well, I broke it down and saw things just aren't very attractive for a young man his age in Miami. MOVE, you say? THAT costs fuckin' money as well. When I was younger in the 80's and saw those goddamned "poor people" on television all I thought was they should just fucking MOVE and find a city with more work and better wages. It didn't dawn on me that MOVING costs a shitload of money; finding a new home in an alien area with no friends or family is NOT an easy thing. For a SINGLE young man it is do-able, in a way. For a formerly well-employed father of 3, with a wife that worked part-time to help supplement the income, but lost her job as well as he losing his, it is NOT that goddamned simple, ESPECIALLY with a motherfucking GOP Congress that has voted down nearly 30 jobs bills, 5 veterans assistance bills, nixed the break on student loans, and killed the unemployment benefits to the long-term unemployed, who continue seeking jobs, despite there being ONE job for every THREE job seekers. Gotta love the GOP and the motherfuckin', goddamned US of A that seeks to create and continue MASSIVE tax breaks for the top 1% as well as the 25% of top corporations that pay ZERO in taxes and most of which receive BILLIONS in taxpayer dollars to help them along. Cocksuckers. All of you GOP pieces of shit. Let's go GUILLOTINES! God, I hope I live long enough to see some BALLS grow in this nation. Hey, I'll be more than happy to stand the front lines. Just let me exercise my absurd 2nd Amendment RIGHTS to enforce a little FAIRNESS in our evil system bought and paid for by those calling corporations people. Gotta clean up my comments sometimes. RE: Miss Donna, my step-son actually works his ass off, but thanks to this ABSURD economy wherein we hard working people believe it is perfectly swell for some people to make 500 TIMES what other TRULY hard working people make, it is hard for young people to stand a chance and pay the incredibly high cost of living in Miami. After all, if you wish to rent a ROOM in someone's house you can expect to pay between $650 to $5,000 PER MONTH, depending on where it is. For a ROOM, NOT a house or an apartment. Let us do the math. At $10.00 per hour, fully 40% MORE than "minimum wage", a person MAY bring home $325.00 per week, as long as there are no rain days or holidays or sick days, things people are rarely paid for anymore, a person can pay $600.00 per month for an extremely CHEAP HOVEL - I mean, a ROOM in someone else's hovel - then pay $150 per month for a bus pass, since most assuredly a CAR at $200 or so per month - cheap-assed USED piece of junk car is not affordable, especially with $200 dollars per month in insurance for a younger person. Food? Oh, that lazy bastard wants to eat as well? Okay, we'll provide some cheap chuck wagon trucks that'll give him something for $5 to $6.00 per day...$30 per week. Okay, lunch and rent equals $150.00 per week, out of that $325. OH?!!! You want electricity to go with that room? Do ya' want cable television as well, you greedy bastard? Add another $50 per week. Where are we? Hmmm, about $200.00 per week. What the fuck now, you actually want breakfast or dinner as well? Friggin' GREEDY working people, when will they stop their greed?!!! Shee-it, that's another $100 per week, if you buy cheap shit that will fill you up while starving your body of actual nutrients, which are entirely too expensive for you goddamned working people to buy. Okay, so where are we now with that MASSIVE paycheck that is 40% MORE than minimum wage? Oh, $300.00 per week. What? Now you want a fucking telephone as well? Dayum, these people have no limits on their desires! Fucking dregs of society, these working people! Fuck it, you still have $25.00 per week to pay for your healthcare, clothes, awesome nights out at the restaurant and clubs, and your 401K retirement savings. Goddamned working people just need to straighten up and start living right and saving MORE. What?! NOW you say you have an actual KID? Are you fucking NUTS? How the hell are you gonna pay for THAT outrageous expense? We need to sterilize all people making under $20 per hour to help us REAL hard workers from paying for those lazy bums by subsidizing their easy lifestyle of foodstamps and welfare. Sons-of-bitches. Taking money out of MY pocket when I try so very hard to save...so I can donate the multi BILLIONS my nation's tax code just GIVES to the largest corporations and the top 1% of wealth holders. That is my only job. My existence and reason for being is to help subsidize the 1% and the world's most profitable and largest corporations in history. 3 mins · Like .. John Bolin Write a comment... LikeLike · · Share 14 people like this. . Jimmi Rorie I hear you.On disability and can't move without sacrificing something,even working part time. 1% of the population controls 90% of the income. Ripe for a 2nd American Revolution 11 hrs · Like · 3 .. Enaj Eod Amazing how many people just don't get simple math. 11 hrs · Like · 2 .. Noreen Manvell Every time I write about the increase in crime and needing to protect ourselves, some arrogant asshole tells me to move. Makes me want to punch him in the face. Life you say, moving costs money. But also, I'll be goddamned if some punk criminals are going to chase me away from my little house that we've had for over 20 years. The crime is not from within our neighborhood - it is gangbangers and punks coming here from other places looking for easy victims. They are always shocked when they realize that every single house in this 'hood has dogs and guns and we aren't afraid to use them. I'm only moving when I have a better job and it will make me more money for a higher quality of life. Until then, we are hunkering down and not letting punks chase us out of our homes. Last time I moved from California to Tennessee it cost about $6,000 - and that was not using a moving van company - I couldn't afford those guys - so I had to give away half of my shit. Worse than getting a damn divorce. 10 hrs · Like · 1 .. Enaj Eod And you have to wonder--don't those people realize that crime is not only everywhere but is totally mobile too. *smh . . . people . . . sigh. 10 hrs · Like · 2 .. Mary Lambertha He can stay with you..work..pay you rent and then you give him back the rent in 6 months or so and he will have deposit money for a place. It can be done. I know several people that support families on a fraction of what i make. If his priorities are right he can make it 10 hrs · Like · 3 .. Dallas Bingham Ummmmm....... Just sayin, you can get a good job if you are willing to take on the work load and education. Maybe Miami is not the place to live if all those evil republican bastards that have to foot the bill on their workforce's health care insurance cannot afford to pay you better wages....... Maybe you reevaluate your democratic position on those GOD DAMN 1%ers and realize that in order to provide a service and pay their taxes and your wages, and your healthcare maybe 10 bucks an hour is all they can afford too! Just saying, maybe those greedy fucking business owners are not the problem. Maybe overpopulation and government rule is the culprit. But what do I know? I am just some snot nosed little Fuck without a college education and a six figure income that I went and earned myself.......And I love my guns! 10 hrs · Like · 2 .. Mary Lambertha I got dumped by a fb friend when i was bitching about my neighborhood..she says..just move...him...yea..a family of 4..kids in school..i dont have thousands to put on just moving..i told her to get out in the world more and she would stop saying stupid shit like that. 10 hrs · Like · 4 .. John Bolin I made plenty of money in my day, Dallas, and I was not overly "regulated", though my best earning years were dealing drugs. You, however, have had the incredible luxury of a FAMILY, a HOME, and OPPORTUNITY. Many people do NOT have that, but that is unimaginable for some who have had such privileges. Regarding income, just try and consider the actual NUMBERS that are indisputable. 60% of ALL the wealth created in the US the last 30 years has gone to 1% of the population. Why? Oh, they work so much "harder". Right. 95% of ALL the gains during the anemic "economic recovery" of the last 6 years has gone to the 1%. 95%. I wonder just how far along you'd be with NO family connections and no helpful uncles and no wonderful mother and great dad? By the way, I managed to open 3 companies and SOMEHOW didn't starve despite one of my most successful companies paying 50% above minimum wage in a job description that was a minimum wage job - yes, my little "John's Lawns...PLUS" company in Arkansas. Hell, I paid my help $7.00 per our their FIRST day as well as bought them breakfast AND lunch, another $15 or so for the day, and IF they worked well gave them a dollar an hour raise their second day. NEVER did I go hungry. If you cannot run a business and pay your employees a LIVING wage you have NO BUSINESS being IN BUSINESS in this country. PERIOD. I am NOT some "commie pig bastard" seeking re-distribution of wealth, although we have witnessed the largest transfer - redistribution - in world history the last 30 years in this nation, FROM the working poor and middle classes to the top 1%. When the CEO's of major corporations went from making 40 times their average salaried worker in the 80's to over 380 TIMES that much today, something is slightly askew. When the tax code has taken corporations from paying 40% of the U.S. Government's total revenues in 1948 to less than 10% today, do ya' know WHO is picking up that tax bill? Our supposedly outrageous high corporate taxes are a MYTH. IN 2012 25% of the top 500 corporations not only paid ZERO in taxes on their profits, but actually received government "checks" - WELFARE - to the tune of many billions of dollars. As long as you are happy subsidizing them, power to you. Keep bitching about the working poor who work every bit as hard as you. Surely they are the problem, NOT the massive redistribution of wealth, thanks to a tax code which is MAN-MADE, and corporate-purchased and paid-for, which allows Bill Gates or Warren Buffet or the Koch Brothers to pay LESS in taxes as a percentage of income than you do. Keep picking up their tab and kissing their greedy asses. You probably think you will be one of them someday, but in the U.S. you have the LEAST likely chance of entering their pay grade than ANY Industrialized nation on earth. Good luck. 9 hrs · Like · 4 .. John Bolin Incidentally, Dallas, not to drag up simple facts, but when a nation has all of its wealth concentrated in the hands of a very small handful of people, that nation goes to hell in a, get this, hand bag, very rapidly. The middle classes and working people are the DRIVERS of the economy. When they have no disposable income jobs are LOST; hence, this bullshit we see now in the anemic "recovery" we have after experiencing the last great GOP leader who led us into two wars without paying for them, cutting the stock market in HALF, losing 800,000 JOBS PER MONTH in his heyday, and jacking our federal budget deficit up to $1.2 TRILLION dollars. I won't mention we've seen 250,000 jobs PER MONTH created for the entirety of this year, nor the FACT that for the FIRST TIME since Clinton, and only the second time in 50 years the Federal Budget deficit has been reduced, to HALF the Bush legacy...oh, the stock market has more than DOUBLED during these last 6 years. Obama is truly a HORRIBLE "socialist" leader. That fuck. 9 hrs · Like · 3 .. Dallas Bingham And I would like to remind you, to repeatedly and vigorously go Fuck yourself. And good day. I agree with 90% of what you say, just still like to think that this country has a chance. Let's just start the new American revolution. All will be well when the streets run red with the blood of the weak, the worthless and the dumb. Allah bless the USA! Or Buddha or Jesus, Christ, not the taco guy down the street. 9 hrs · Like .. John Bolin I must give you a very hearty "fuck you" on that one as Tacos are my favorite food! Well, I do like a good T-bone with lobster, but actually prefer tacos, enchiladas and other sundry Mexican or Tex-Mex food. Any food south of Mexico SUCKS. Trust me. It sucks. Some of us were goddamned lucky to be raised in the great American Southwest where REAL food came to meet REAL COWS! 9 hrs · Like · 4 .. John Bolin By the way, you really would LOVE a journal I wrote some years ago about "de-populating" planet earth. It was quite sensible. Every human is given a physical, psychological, intelligence, and emotional test at age 5, 10 and 15. Those in the top 10% of all scores are allowed THREE children. Those in the 50% percentile are allowed two children. Those in the bottom quartile are allowed ONE, then sterilized. Those at the bottom, are allowed NONE and are sterilized by age 15. I think you may appreciate that, and I STILL contend that is a great idea. See, I'm not always that smarmy and mushy. If someone is incapable of managing to feed themselves, they goddamned sure don't need to re-produce and create others of the same variety! Hey, we're both still little Nazis at heart, but WITH a heart and compassion. At least I am. 9 hrs · Edited · Like .. Dallas Bingham And some of us where lucky enough to have learned a great work ethic since we were 12. And some are lazy worthless fucks. But, no matter where we are raised we still have an opportunity in this country. But I am done for the evening Mr. Bolin. Have a good night. Maybe this Christmas we can come down to Miami and visit but the Rockies are calling you. Come on. 9 hrs · Like · 2 .. John Bolin Good job, sir. I'm NOT dying...well, we ALL are, but I no longer have such a lovely "deadline" on the matter. Let me tell you, young man, that is an incredible psychological thing...going from "you're dead in under 6 months" to, "Hey! You don't have cancer after all"!!! Just kidding, you know?! Yes, I'd like to see you, Kiddo. And your wife sounds very nice...I don't know WHAT got into her to get her to marry you, though. I guess she was just being an optimist! (Long time no see. We'll do verbal battle another day. Your mother hates me, you know. But...well, look at my profile picture!) 9 hrs · Like .. John Bolin And the Rockies are definitely calling! Gawd, I cannot believe when I was a little "tanked up" and ready to come there for one of the long weekends, credit card in hand ready to buy whatever I needed, my fucking internet chose to go DOWN that night and save me from myself. Friggin' internet! Have a great night, "little one". (No one here on my FB pages have a clue who the fuck you are...hell, I don't know who the fuck you are, why should they be better informed than me!) Say "hey" to the Missus. 9 hrs · Like · 1 .. John Bolin Liberating the CAT time. The cat is coming out of the bag. One Mr. Dallas Bingham is my ONLY offspring. He shall become 30 years old on 13 September. Fucker tried to make it on 9-11 but as usual was running late. The apple fell a long distance from the tree...NOT. I was him at age 30. I've changed, he hasn't, but WILL. Maybe. We don't necessarily agree on politics but when together, which is not often, we have a wonderful time. Son of a bitch has such nice teeth. He got those from his momma. I can't even BUY teeth that look so nice. Life is just NOT FAIR!!! 9 hrs · Like · 2 .. Mari Lynn ouch, I just gpot sooo depressed. sucks! 9 hrs · Like · 1 .. Dallas Bingham Ernesto Che' Gueverra was a murderer and revolutionary understood by few. Do not agree with his message but I do agree with his methods. 9 hrs · Like · 1 .. John Bolin I thought you were in bed, young man. SOME of us have to work tomorrow...thankfully it is probably YOU so you can support my lazy ass! Love it. Actually, I changed my pic recently in response to some sort of political diatribe someone was on, probably not me...maybe, and said those that suffered at the hands of that TOO MELLOW person should be damned happy that I am NOT in charge. I'd actually be ruthless. And by ruthless, I mean fuckin' RUTHLESS. There would be many heads coming off from the top and many more heads coming off at the bottom. I'm just a bad person when you get right down to it. 9 hrs · Edited · Like .. Dallas Bingham Apple indeed does not fall far then. Until yesterday, I thought that is how you spell my name.... RUTHLESS 9 hrs · Like · 1 .. John Bolin By the way, I was looking for a new home recently (today) and on Craigslist hit upon a decent little place in Ft. Lauderdale, then a lovely place in Vera Cruz, Mexico, and finally found paradise in Paraiso (paradise) Caribeno Cuba. Yes, I'm not averse to moving to Cuba, though it would require a few paperwork gymnastics. I'm good at paperwork if nothing else. Now, it looks like my place here is still secure, though things were rather shady for a couple of days. All I want is my little pool, which I've been in since 7:00 pm or so and it is nearly 1:00 a.m. I like being water logged and feeding my many mosquito friends. They so love and appreciate me, and invariably fly away drunk as hell. Half of them don't make it home and are met by their little mosquito wives at their homes the next day barking and growling at them for being in John's Bar so long. Life is good. 9 hrs · Like .. John Bolin Shhhh...Dallas, THAT's your REAL middle name. "James" was thrown in there just to throw people off track. I think I might know you after all. I just have to travel back in time in my mind when I voted for Reagan TWICE, VERY enthusiastically. 8 hrs · Like .. John Bolin Don't really know you, kid, but I fuckin' love you!!! You're everything I hoped I'd be at 30 years old...sort of...except...well, the rich and successful and handsome and excellent dancer part. Keep practicing. 8 hrs · Like .. Bobby Marcum Why on earth would you vote for a professional actor??? 8 hrs · Like · 1 .. John Bolin Because he was an excellent soap and detergent salesman in the 50's, Bobby. What? You mean you didn't vote for him? Do you mean to say you were not swayed by the "Great Communicator" front man for James Baker, Dick Cheney, Admiral Secord and company? After all, his own memoirs show he worked from about 9:30 in the morning to nearly noon, before taking his 2-hour lunch, then his daily NAP from 2:30 or so until 4:00, so he could clock out by 4:30. THAT was one smart President! He knew how not to work! 8 hrs · Like .. Bobby Marcum I was trying to figure out how "couple skate" worked when he did his Iran hostage response, and I don't remember anything aside from all of the grown-ups going over to the tv to listen while their offspring were free to skate as fast as possible, possibly breaking their necks in the process-that is professional negligence illustrated! 8 hrs · Like .. John Bolin For some reason he felt compelled to state some 206 times, or thereabouts, that he "did not recall" during the Iran-Contra Hearings, which I watched EVERY HOUR OF on television when it occurred. Let's see, he "negotiated with 'terrorists' " to trade arms for hostages; he also negotiated with MORE "terrorists" to ensure our hostages in Iran from the Embassy were NOT released until his inauguration day; he continued a war in Nicaragua, which Congress specifically forbade; his CIA imported HUGE amounts of cocaine from Colombia to provide them with yet more monies for his little "off-the-shelf" enterprises run by a TRAITOROUS Marine Corps. Lieutenant Colonel named Oliver North; Miami became the cocaine capital of the U.S. thanks to that importation of drugs in the early 80's by the CIA and led to the creation of the "crack epidemic" along with incredible turf battles and massive massacres in the Miami area for the drug trade...let's see, what did he NOT do? Oh, yes, he DID at least TRIPLE the entire U.S. government national DEBT - yes, TRIPLED it, yet during Obama's tenure, funding two UNFUNDED wars started by Bush II, it only rose 55%, not TRIPLED. He oversaw unemployment skyrocketing to 10.2%, the absolute HIGHEST in my lifetime. Yes, Lord Ronnie was such a stellar example of just exactly what a GOP President can offer this country!!! 8 hrs · Like .. Summer Wallace-Minger Jesus, John, you voted for Reagan? Fucking Reagan? Were you high? You were high, weren't you? 1 hr · Like · 1 .. Tony Smith I just shared your whole damn original post up there John, because it kicks ass. Don't worry about "cleaning up" your language. There's no such fucking thing as a bad word, particularly when the content delivered is the fucking truth. 42 mins · Like .. Bobby Marcum No words are inherently bad, because ultimately they're a collection of gibberish everyone has agreed upon and assigned meaning to. There are different consequences for uttering some gibberish noises due to that perception. "Here is a cupcake I made for you, because I think you are a good person. You should enjoy it," might mean "I'm going to cut off your arms and duct tape them to a fire hydrant be cause I think it would look like R2D2 from Star Wars. I like R2D2." In fact, that has happened to me more than once. John Bolin, Miami, FL ·
Posted in response to someone suggesting my step-son is somewhat of a lazy bum that is just trying to suck momma's titties at the age of 26. Well, I broke it down and saw things just aren't very attractive for a young man his age in Miami. MOVE, you say? THAT costs fuckin' money as well. When I was younger in the 80's and saw those goddamned "poor people" on television all I thought was they should just fucking MOVE and find a city with more work and better wages. It didn't dawn on me that MOVING costs a shitload of money; finding a new home in an alien area with no friends or family is NOT an easy thing. For a SINGLE young man it is do-able, in a way. For a formerly well-employed father of 3, with a wife that worked part-time to help supplement the income, but lost her job as well as he losing his, it is NOT that goddamned simple, ESPECIALLY with a motherfucking GOP Congress that has voted down nearly 30 jobs bills, 5 veterans assistance bills, nixed the break on student loans, and killed the unemployment benefits to the long-term unemployed, who continue seeking jobs, despite there being ONE job for every THREE job seekers. Gotta love the GOP and the motherfuckin', goddamned US of A that seeks to create and continue MASSIVE tax breaks for the top 1% as well as the 25% of top corporations that pay ZERO in taxes and most of which receive BILLIONS in taxpayer dollars to help them along. Cocksuckers. All of you GOP pieces of shit. Let's go GUILLOTINES! God, I hope I live long enough to see some BALLS grow in this nation. Hey, I'll be more than happy to stand the front lines. Just let me exercise my absurd 2nd Amendment RIGHTS to enforce a little FAIRNESS in our evil system bought and paid for by those calling corporations people.
Gotta clean up my comments sometimes. RE: Miss Donna, my step-son actually works his ass off, but thanks to this ABSURD economy wherein we hard working people believe it is perfectly swell for some people to make 500 TIMES what other TRULY hard working people make, it is hard for young people to stand a chance and pay the incredibly high cost of living in Miami. After all, if you wish to rent a ROOM in someone's house you can expect to pay between $650 to $5,000 PER MONTH, depending on where it is. For a ROOM, NOT a house or an apartment. Let us do the math. At $10.00 per hour, fully 40% MORE than "minimum wage", a person MAY bring home $325.00 per week, as long as there are no rain days or holidays or sick days, things people are rarely paid for anymore, a person can pay $600.00 per month for an extremely CHEAP HOVEL - I mean, a ROOM in someone else's hovel - then pay $150 per month for a bus pass, since most assuredly a CAR at $200 or so per month - cheap-assed USED piece of junk car is not affordable, especially with $200 dollars per month in insurance for a younger person.
Food? Oh, that lazy bastard wants to eat as well? Okay, we'll provide some cheap chuck wagon trucks that'll give him something for $5 to $6.00 per day...$30 per week. Okay, lunch and rent equals $150.00 per week, out of that $325. OH?!!! You want electricity to go with that room? Do ya' want cable television as well, you greedy bastard? Add another $50 per week. Where are we? Hmmm, about $200.00 per week. What the fuck now, you actually want breakfast or dinner as well? Friggin' GREEDY working people, when will they stop their greed?!!! Shee-it, that's another $100 per week, if you buy cheap shit that will fill you up while starving your body of actual nutrients, which are entirely too expensive for you goddamned working people to buy. Okay, so where are we now with that MASSIVE paycheck that is 40% MORE than minimum wage? Oh, $300.00 per week. What? Now you want a fucking telephone as well? Dayum, these people have no limits on their desires! Fucking dregs of society, these working people! Fuck it, you still have $25.00 per week to pay for your healthcare, clothes, awesome nights out at the restaurant and clubs, and your 401K retirement savings. Goddamned working people just need to straighten up and start living right and saving MORE.
What?! NOW you say you have an actual KID? Are you fucking NUTS? How the hell are you gonna pay for THAT outrageous expense? We need to sterilize all people making under $20 per hour to help us REAL hard workers from paying for those lazy bums by subsidizing their easy lifestyle of foodstamps and welfare. Sons-of-bitches. Taking money out of MY pocket when I try so very hard to save...so I can donate the multi BILLIONS my nation's tax code just GIVES to the largest corporations and the top 1% of wealth holders. That is my only job. My existence and reason for being is to help subsidize the 1% and the world's most profitable and largest corporations in history.
Food? Oh, that lazy bastard wants to eat as well? Okay, we'll provide some cheap chuck wagon trucks that'll give him something for $5 to $6.00 per day...$30 per week. Okay, lunch and rent equals $150.00 per week, out of that $325. OH?!!! You want electricity to go with that room? Do ya' want cable television as well, you greedy bastard? Add another $50 per week. Where are we? Hmmm, about $200.00 per week. What the fuck now, you actually want breakfast or dinner as well? Friggin' GREEDY working people, when will they stop their greed?!!! Shee-it, that's another $100 per week, if you buy cheap shit that will fill you up while starving your body of actual nutrients, which are entirely too expensive for you goddamned working people to buy. Okay, so where are we now with that MASSIVE paycheck that is 40% MORE than minimum wage? Oh, $300.00 per week. What? Now you want a fucking telephone as well? Dayum, these people have no limits on their desires! Fucking dregs of society, these working people! Fuck it, you still have $25.00 per week to pay for your healthcare, clothes, awesome nights out at the restaurant and clubs, and your 401K retirement savings. Goddamned working people just need to straighten up and start living right and saving MORE.
What?! NOW you say you have an actual KID? Are you fucking NUTS? How the hell are you gonna pay for THAT outrageous expense? We need to sterilize all people making under $20 per hour to help us REAL hard workers from paying for those lazy bums by subsidizing their easy lifestyle of foodstamps and welfare. Sons-of-bitches. Taking money out of MY pocket when I try so very hard to save...so I can donate the multi BILLIONS my nation's tax code just GIVES to the largest corporations and the top 1% of wealth holders. That is my only job. My existence and reason for being is to help subsidize the 1% and the world's most profitable and largest corporations in history.
Friday, July 4, 2014
Doin' It Wrong
I spent a lot of time on Wednesday working out in my backyard, and while doing so, I came to the realization that I've been doing my summer all wrong.
As I've said before, the day after the spring art show is like New Year's Day for me because I'm finally released to work on the projects I want to work on instead of projects I have to work on. During the first part of the year, I'm chained to the drafting table, but my mind is wandering, dreaming of the day when I can finally work on that painting, that piece of furniture, that little woodworking project, etc., etc.
What I did was to start on one project that I can't finish just yet, and another that is going to take months to get it just right. And both of these are projects that do not require either sunlight or warm dry weather.
Right after the show, I decided that it would be a good idea to replenish my inventory now instead of waiting till the fall. I figured out which prints I needed matted and framed, and started cutting mats. But I hadn't gotten into it very far when I realized that some of the information on my certificates was out of date, specifically an old phone number and a non-functioning website. Unfortunately, the woodburning computer that I have the Print Shop program on is barely functioning, and it has no printer anyway, which means I have to use my Dad's computer. He has a much later version of Print Shop, but I have trouble using it. The night I went over to his house to try to get the certificates done, the results were not good. He tells me he's fixed the problem, but I haven't been back over there to see what he's done.
The other project is my Titanic model. After I finished my Lusitania model last December, I couldn't wait to get started on the Titanic. When I did, I discovered some flaws in the way the model was manufactured. I want this model to be perfect, so I'm spending a lot of time working on the details, but mostly I'm spending a lot of time thinking and waiting for paint to dry. I could be doing this as I'm finishing my day instead of letting it take over my whole day.
What I realized while mowing the lawn the other day was that the first thing I need to do is clean out my garage. That would free up a lot of workspace, and help me to stop procrastinating on some of the other projects I want to get done this summer -- projects that individually won't take so much time. Then there's the problem of time management, which means more sleep and less computer. That's going to be hard, but one thing I know about myself is that if I get started on something early, I'll work on it all day.
So now I know what to do. I just need to remember what it is when my weekend rolls around in a few days.
As I've said before, the day after the spring art show is like New Year's Day for me because I'm finally released to work on the projects I want to work on instead of projects I have to work on. During the first part of the year, I'm chained to the drafting table, but my mind is wandering, dreaming of the day when I can finally work on that painting, that piece of furniture, that little woodworking project, etc., etc.
What I did was to start on one project that I can't finish just yet, and another that is going to take months to get it just right. And both of these are projects that do not require either sunlight or warm dry weather.
Right after the show, I decided that it would be a good idea to replenish my inventory now instead of waiting till the fall. I figured out which prints I needed matted and framed, and started cutting mats. But I hadn't gotten into it very far when I realized that some of the information on my certificates was out of date, specifically an old phone number and a non-functioning website. Unfortunately, the woodburning computer that I have the Print Shop program on is barely functioning, and it has no printer anyway, which means I have to use my Dad's computer. He has a much later version of Print Shop, but I have trouble using it. The night I went over to his house to try to get the certificates done, the results were not good. He tells me he's fixed the problem, but I haven't been back over there to see what he's done.
The other project is my Titanic model. After I finished my Lusitania model last December, I couldn't wait to get started on the Titanic. When I did, I discovered some flaws in the way the model was manufactured. I want this model to be perfect, so I'm spending a lot of time working on the details, but mostly I'm spending a lot of time thinking and waiting for paint to dry. I could be doing this as I'm finishing my day instead of letting it take over my whole day.
What I realized while mowing the lawn the other day was that the first thing I need to do is clean out my garage. That would free up a lot of workspace, and help me to stop procrastinating on some of the other projects I want to get done this summer -- projects that individually won't take so much time. Then there's the problem of time management, which means more sleep and less computer. That's going to be hard, but one thing I know about myself is that if I get started on something early, I'll work on it all day.
So now I know what to do. I just need to remember what it is when my weekend rolls around in a few days.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Birth, Death, and the Inadequate Social Media.
My friend Brittany recently had a baby. Jason was born several weeks early, and for a while it didn't seem he was going to make it. Brittany was making several anguished Facebook posts about her suffering child, and so many of her friends and family were offering words of support and encouragement. I was not one of them. I wanted to be, but I just wasn't.
This past Saturday night, my friend Michael came home from an outing with friends and found that his boyfriend, also named Jason, had died. From the second hand information I got from a friend of ours, and a few Facebook posts, we learned that Michael had found Jason wrapped in a blanket on the couch where he had been napping. Michael is quite devastated. Again, there was an outpouring of support and condolences from so many friends on Facebook. I was not one of them.Actually, that's not entirely true. But my attempt looked, at least to me, terribly tacky. In fact, I have fears that this blog post may make me look terribly tacky because I can't seem to shake the idea that I'm making their pain all about me.
The problem is that I can't seem to find words when someone I care about is going through pain. I'm ashamed of that. I really want to be there for them, but by "be there" I mean actually with them so I can touch them, hug them, hold their hand. I still probably won't have anything to say, but I'm a good listener, and I have comforting shoulders. Electronic media just seems so inadequate, and that's exacerbated by my own lack of meaningful verbal expression.
Michael was in chat last night on Facebook. I wanted to let him know I was thinking about him, so I found a crying depressed looking emoticon and sent it to him as a message. When I posted it, it was huge. When you look at them in the menu, they're about the size of a 12pt font. This was like 72 or bigger. It was awful. When they're small, you can't see how cheesy they really are.
I don't know when I'll see Brittany again. I'll probably see Michael at the funeral. Till then, I'm wishing my arms could reach out through my computer to say "I love you, and I'm here for you. And I wish I could make the pain go away."
Monday, September 23, 2013
Failure To Attend
when you swallow
a bottle of pills
and you feel them
begin to take hold
it is possible to have a second thought
it is possible to think maybe I was hasty
and...
that
dizziness
and the tingle
grow stronger
and consciousness
begins to
transform
into
a
greasy rope
it is possible to assemble the ideas
together and motivate your brain
to regret,
not the past,
but the exact moment
you're swimming in
as the realm of light
becomes dimmer through
half open eyes
and
my
hiding spot
next to my
childhood home
became
an awfully poetic
place to
decide
to
abandon
a very foolish
(no longer twinkling)
conclusion
so I sent a text
a car arrived
as I stumbled to
the driveway
and there my memory
becomes intermittent
for a bit
I remember a step;
I remember a dashboard;
traffic;
a voice saying,
"Ted, don't go to sleep"
I remember telling a nurse,
"I changed my mind"
BLACK CHARCOAL
LIKE BURNT MUD
SUCKED THICK
through the straw
you feel it lining the grooves between teeth
and the backsides beneath tongue
SO BLACK
SO REPULSIVE
YOU JUST WANT TO REJECT
you just want to vomit on your lap
so,
you gag
"Ted, you have to drink it all"
you stiff the gag
you have no choice
you suck
it in
and it licks your throat
you gag again,
some comes up,
and you swallow that back down
it takes so long
when you finally lay back
you feel ashamed
black grainy fluid dripped
over lip,
down chin
like you've been slurping
from a sewer pipe
an officer came grinning
beside the gurney
and I just asked him, "Please, before we go away, let
me
have
just one cigarette."
but no,
not even a suicide attempt
is enough to grant
such a kernel of kindness
when you swallow
a bottle of pills
and begin to feel
them take hold
it is possible to have a second thought
but even so
the nurse called my father
and I lacked the
importance for him to appear
-----------------------------------------------------------
An original poem by my friend Ted Vanderveldt,
published on Facebook, 9-22-13
a bottle of pills
and you feel them
begin to take hold
it is possible to have a second thought
it is possible to think maybe I was hasty
and...
that
dizziness
and the tingle
grow stronger
and consciousness
begins to
transform
into
a
greasy rope
it is possible to assemble the ideas
together and motivate your brain
to regret,
not the past,
but the exact moment
you're swimming in
as the realm of light
becomes dimmer through
half open eyes
and
my
hiding spot
next to my
childhood home
became
an awfully poetic
place to
decide
to
abandon
a very foolish
(no longer twinkling)
conclusion
so I sent a text
a car arrived
as I stumbled to
the driveway
and there my memory
becomes intermittent
for a bit
I remember a step;
I remember a dashboard;
traffic;
a voice saying,
"Ted, don't go to sleep"
I remember telling a nurse,
"I changed my mind"
BLACK CHARCOAL
LIKE BURNT MUD
SUCKED THICK
through the straw
you feel it lining the grooves between teeth
and the backsides beneath tongue
SO BLACK
SO REPULSIVE
YOU JUST WANT TO REJECT
you just want to vomit on your lap
so,
you gag
"Ted, you have to drink it all"
you stiff the gag
you have no choice
you suck
it in
and it licks your throat
you gag again,
some comes up,
and you swallow that back down
it takes so long
when you finally lay back
you feel ashamed
black grainy fluid dripped
over lip,
down chin
like you've been slurping
from a sewer pipe
an officer came grinning
beside the gurney
and I just asked him, "Please, before we go away, let
me
have
just one cigarette."
but no,
not even a suicide attempt
is enough to grant
such a kernel of kindness
when you swallow
a bottle of pills
and begin to feel
them take hold
it is possible to have a second thought
but even so
the nurse called my father
and I lacked the
importance for him to appear
-----------------------------------------------------------
An original poem by my friend Ted Vanderveldt,
published on Facebook, 9-22-13
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Blue Plaid Memories
.JPG)
I'm going through old photos and I come across this one of me in the third grade, shortly before I got my first pair of glasses. The photo was taken on Christmas day, 1970, in the house on East First Street in Edmond where we lived until the summer of 1973. I'm sitting at the desk that my Dad refinished for me, working on a model of a souped up 1911 fire engine called the Firecracker by Monogram. I had begged my parents' to get me that particular model for Christmas for weeks. That year, for some reason, we had celebrated Christmas on the evening of the 24th, so I didn't get to start building the model till the next day. I still have that model in the china cabinet in my dining room. The antique globe sitting on the desk is also in my dining room, on top of the china cabinet, and the desk itself is at my parents' house.Other things in the room also bring back some rather random memories. My mother made the curtains. My Dad had laid the orange carpet squares as part of the process of remodeling the house into a quadraplex. That orange thing with the black handle next to the desk is the Sears typewriter with the snap on cover that I had gotten for my eighth birthday the previous summer, and the turquoisey container I was using for a trash can was actually a Lucerne potato chip canister from Safeway. I loved that belt I was wearing, and was disappointed when I outgrew it.
But what stands out to me now are the pants that matched the curtains, and the bulletin board full of pictures of Donnie Osmond. How is it possible that no one knew I was gay?
Monday, April 30, 2012
Like a Record, Baby, Right Round Round Round
There are certain subjects that I have decided are off limits in this blog, but I'm going to have to travel along the edges of one of them to tell this story.
My friend Mark and my brother are of two divergent (and frankly competing) faiths, and each is actively involved in their respective religious institutions as well, so naturally their points of view are going to show up on their Facebook posts. Today, each of them posted the same story, but each post had a spin that reflected their own personal predjudices. I find spin fascinating, but I rarely get to see it displayed so starkly.
Anti-Bullying Speaker Curses Christian Teens
http://radio.foxnews.com/toddstarnes/top-stories/anti-bullying-speaker-curses-mocks-christian-teens.html
By Todd Starnes As many as 100 high school students walked out of a national journalism conference after an anti-bullying speaker began cursing, attacked the Bible and reportedly called those who refused to listen to his rant “pansy assed.” The speaker was Dan Savage, founder of the “It...
Christians walk out on anti-bullying talk
http://www.examiner.com/
Gay Activist and founder of the “It Gets Better” anti-bullying project, Dan Savage recently spoke at the National High School Journalist Conference in Seattle. ..
I watched the video and read the story, and my point of view didn't quite line up with either presentation. It's probably because I've been conditioned to recognize this particular type of hypocrisy (and please understand that this is not a judgement; I believe hypocrisy is just human nature), but if I were writing the story it would have a very long headline.
Dan Savage Uses The Bible and Religion To Justify His Predjudices Against People Who Use The Bible and Religion To Justify Their Predjudices.
But then I guess that could be considered to have it's own spin.
My friend Mark and my brother are of two divergent (and frankly competing) faiths, and each is actively involved in their respective religious institutions as well, so naturally their points of view are going to show up on their Facebook posts. Today, each of them posted the same story, but each post had a spin that reflected their own personal predjudices. I find spin fascinating, but I rarely get to see it displayed so starkly.
Anti-Bullying Speaker Curses Christian Teens
http://radio.foxnews.com/toddstarnes/top-stories/anti-bullying-speaker-curses-mocks-christian-teens.html
By Todd Starnes As many as 100 high school students walked out of a national journalism conference after an anti-bullying speaker began cursing, attacked the Bible and reportedly called those who refused to listen to his rant “pansy assed.” The speaker was Dan Savage, founder of the “It...
Christians walk out on anti-bullying talk
http://www.examiner.com/
Gay Activist and founder of the “It Gets Better” anti-bullying project, Dan Savage recently spoke at the National High School Journalist Conference in Seattle. ..
I watched the video and read the story, and my point of view didn't quite line up with either presentation. It's probably because I've been conditioned to recognize this particular type of hypocrisy (and please understand that this is not a judgement; I believe hypocrisy is just human nature), but if I were writing the story it would have a very long headline.
Dan Savage Uses The Bible and Religion To Justify His Predjudices Against People Who Use The Bible and Religion To Justify Their Predjudices.
But then I guess that could be considered to have it's own spin.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
I, Solation
The bar at the hotel has a few regulars who happen to be gay. One of them, who also happens to be a reporter for a local TV station, came in with a large group of his friends the other night. I think they were celebrating a birthday. Most of them were young, most were good looking, and it was obvious they all liked each other. For a while, during the slow process of leaving and saying goodnight, they stood on the front sidewalk where I was working, and I got to observe them as they engaged in affectionate banter the way real friends do, and the hugs and kisses as they left for the night.
A couple of mornings later, one of my co-workers facetiously asked me if I enjoyed seeing all those young gay guys together in a group. (Teasing comments are part of our normal conversation.) He didn't know that I had actually been thinking about that group of guys a lot. I said, "No, actually it just made me sad." Of course I had to explain what I meant.
Fact is, I miss having a crowd.
I'm nearly 50 years old. I'm nocturnal. I'm poor. The friends we do have either don't know each other or don't like each other, and some of them live in the land of Far Far Away. (We live in Edmond, which, in OKC's gay scene, is like living at the North Pole.) And everybody is busy busy busy. So getting together with, say, half a dozen other people is difficult at best.
I have friends at work, but even getting together with them is difficult. We went to a party recently that was being thrown by a co-worker. Gaby and I were first to arrive and first to leave because I had to work that night. Most of the rest of the guests arrived after we left, including those I wanted to see most.
Our normal Monday night routine has been to go out to The Park, but we haven't been going out much lately, mostly just because of scheduling problems (I've been working a lot of Mondays lately, dammit). Plus, Gaby's been a unwilling to go even when we can, and I'm not often willing to go without him. Most of the people we know at the clubs are people we used to see at The Park on Monday nights. But Mondays have changed since the "show" moved from The Park across the street to The Phoenix, and when we do go out, the people we know aren't there because they just haven't made the switch. I did make one new friend at the Phoenix -- through a co-worker, no less -- but that friendship hasn't been cultivated because we haven't been there to do it.
I read somewhere online recently that the gay clubs, at least from the social aspect, are a lot like church. I can definitely see that, but Gaby and I are attenders who have not gotten involved with any ministries, so our social connections are tenuous at best. But the weather's getting warmer now, and both The Park and the Phoenix have a patio out back, away from the thumpa-thumpa, and it's so much easier to get into a good conversation with someone when you can actually hear each other. Conversation is my favorite thing; the challenge is finding someone interested.
Right now I'm busy with art shows, so I have little time myself to socialize. But what I really want to do is to find a couple of our friends who are willing and able to go with us out of town for a couple of days. But who? And I'm not sure Gaby's on board with this because the first time I brought it up to him, he gave me a bunch of reasons why it was unlikely to happen instead of helping me figure out how it could happen. But I have vacation time I need to use, and this is how I want to use it. I just got to figure out how.
A couple of mornings later, one of my co-workers facetiously asked me if I enjoyed seeing all those young gay guys together in a group. (Teasing comments are part of our normal conversation.) He didn't know that I had actually been thinking about that group of guys a lot. I said, "No, actually it just made me sad." Of course I had to explain what I meant.
Fact is, I miss having a crowd.
I'm nearly 50 years old. I'm nocturnal. I'm poor. The friends we do have either don't know each other or don't like each other, and some of them live in the land of Far Far Away. (We live in Edmond, which, in OKC's gay scene, is like living at the North Pole.) And everybody is busy busy busy. So getting together with, say, half a dozen other people is difficult at best.
I have friends at work, but even getting together with them is difficult. We went to a party recently that was being thrown by a co-worker. Gaby and I were first to arrive and first to leave because I had to work that night. Most of the rest of the guests arrived after we left, including those I wanted to see most.
Our normal Monday night routine has been to go out to The Park, but we haven't been going out much lately, mostly just because of scheduling problems (I've been working a lot of Mondays lately, dammit). Plus, Gaby's been a unwilling to go even when we can, and I'm not often willing to go without him. Most of the people we know at the clubs are people we used to see at The Park on Monday nights. But Mondays have changed since the "show" moved from The Park across the street to The Phoenix, and when we do go out, the people we know aren't there because they just haven't made the switch. I did make one new friend at the Phoenix -- through a co-worker, no less -- but that friendship hasn't been cultivated because we haven't been there to do it.
I read somewhere online recently that the gay clubs, at least from the social aspect, are a lot like church. I can definitely see that, but Gaby and I are attenders who have not gotten involved with any ministries, so our social connections are tenuous at best. But the weather's getting warmer now, and both The Park and the Phoenix have a patio out back, away from the thumpa-thumpa, and it's so much easier to get into a good conversation with someone when you can actually hear each other. Conversation is my favorite thing; the challenge is finding someone interested.
Right now I'm busy with art shows, so I have little time myself to socialize. But what I really want to do is to find a couple of our friends who are willing and able to go with us out of town for a couple of days. But who? And I'm not sure Gaby's on board with this because the first time I brought it up to him, he gave me a bunch of reasons why it was unlikely to happen instead of helping me figure out how it could happen. But I have vacation time I need to use, and this is how I want to use it. I just got to figure out how.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Have Yourself A Melancholy Christmas
I've been thinking a lot lately about the future of Christmas in my family. My parents are in their 70s now, and though they both are in pretty good health, still they are the lynch pin that holds this holiday together for the family. What will it be like after they're gone?
Christmas has never been a religious holiday at our house, even though my brother and I grew up in church, and my parents are still very active in theirs today. Nor has it really been about Santa, even though we all look forward to the gifts, both as givers and recievers. It has been instead all about the family getting together, and even when it seemed that portions of the family were splintering, this holiday still brought us together.
Our house became the place the extended family came to for Christmas since before I can remember. I know that that's true, but the earliest Christmas I can actually remember was in 1969. It was truly magical for us. My brother and I woke to find an HO guage railroad set up for him, and a Hot Wheels track set up for me. At the time, it seemed gifts filled the whole room. That's the last year I remember believing in Santa.
My mom loves Christmas. She loves the tradition of it, she loves decorating the house, she loves the food, she loves entertaining (any time of year). But somehow, Santa was never a big deal at our house. My classmates at school would get into heated arguments in the lunch line about whether he actually existed or not, but I never participated, because I didn't care. (They also argued about whether "The Wizard of Oz" was a movie for "babies.") On the other hand, my mom, my brother and I had some serious discussions about which was the "real" Santa Claus: the one at Sears, the one at the tree lot, or the one at Penn Square. We decided the real one was at Penn Square, and I think it was because he had to park his sleigh at the Antique store on Classen Circle, just down the street from the mall.
My only other Santa memory is from a day in the middle of summer. I think I was six years old, my brother four. An older cousin of ours had come over with some large jingle bells. My brother and I were in the kitchen, when we heard him start shaking them. When we ran into the living room, my Dad said that Santa was doing a summer check to see if we were being naughty or nice. We raced out onto the front porch and stared at the sky while our cousin howled with uncontrolable laughter.
Somewhere between 1969 and 1971, Mom had casually mentioned that Santa was just Dad in a red suit. I don't remember why this came up in conversation, but I do remember that we were in the car on our way to a mall in the city on a sunny afternoon. It didn't surprize me, since Santa had my dad's handwriting, but I did wonder where Dad hid the red suit, because I'd never seen it. But from then on, everytime Santa was mentioned at Christmas time, my brother and I always responded with that smile one has when one is in on the joke.
Christmas of 1971 was celebrated on Christmas Eve for some reason. Santa was passé by that time, so there were no questions about how that would affect his visit. Previously that summer, I had discovered plastic model car kits, and I had spotted one that I really wanted. It was a Monogram model of a souped up fire engine called the Firecracker. That was at the top of my list for presents.
My Dad had a little shack out back of the house that served as his man-cave. That's where he had been hiding the presents that year, and my parents were not finished wrapping gifts when the family started arriving. I heard my Dad struggling with the back door, so I went to help him. When I opened the door, he started yelling "Go away! Get outa here!" I left, but not before I spotted the Firecracker in the stack of boxes he was bringing in. I had to act surprized when I opened it later. I may have overdone it.
I still have that model. It's in the china cabinet in my dining room.
For some reason, whenever I think of the family coming to that house, the face that stands out most is that of my cousin Gary. We never saw him any other time of year, and I could write a whole 'nother post about his sad life. He died of alcoholism just a few years ago.
In 1973, we moved to a new house, one that had a real dining room, and my mom became the hostess for the family's Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts. But her mother died in 1989, and there were marriages and divorces, and kids moving across the country, and other things that happen in the evolution of a family. Thanksgiving just seemed to disappear from the calendar in a way. And yet, Christmas always brings us together. The extended family is no longer there, and the significant others have changed. We don't even celebrate the holiday on the actual day anymore; we have to work it around everybody's schedules. (One year we celebrated on December 15, and another was in February.) But my mom works really hard to bring it all together, regardless of the changing circumstances.
I've always loved giving gifts, and I love it even more if they're truly appreciataed. My first Christmas as a working man (I was 16), I got my brother a Pachinko machine. He loved it, and I loved that he loved it. Now he lives halfway across the country, and I know little about his home life. As a result, I'm having trouble this year figuring out what to get his significant other. I imagined she might be having the same difficulty, so I sent her a suggestion for one particular family member. She reacted with anger, and I was confused by that reaction until I talked to my mom, who told me that the current economy has been bad for them. She apparently took my suggestion as a demand at a time when they could ill afford even the trip. Then we find out that she can't get off work, and won't be coming this year, which is very disappointing. So she's been on my mind a lot this season.
But that situation also made me wonder about the future of the holiday in my family. Without Mom and Dad, Scott's family actually has no use for Christmas, and I'm thinking in particular that I wouldn't ever see his daughter again. I'm seeing Gaby and myself, grey-headed, sitting in a Cracker Barrel, exchanging small gifts over turkey and dressing, and trying to get that game down to just one golf tee. I hope the future is a bit brighter than that. Who knows, maybe by that time we'll be able to take a cruise or something.
Christmas has never been a religious holiday at our house, even though my brother and I grew up in church, and my parents are still very active in theirs today. Nor has it really been about Santa, even though we all look forward to the gifts, both as givers and recievers. It has been instead all about the family getting together, and even when it seemed that portions of the family were splintering, this holiday still brought us together.
Our house became the place the extended family came to for Christmas since before I can remember. I know that that's true, but the earliest Christmas I can actually remember was in 1969. It was truly magical for us. My brother and I woke to find an HO guage railroad set up for him, and a Hot Wheels track set up for me. At the time, it seemed gifts filled the whole room. That's the last year I remember believing in Santa.My mom loves Christmas. She loves the tradition of it, she loves decorating the house, she loves the food, she loves entertaining (any time of year). But somehow, Santa was never a big deal at our house. My classmates at school would get into heated arguments in the lunch line about whether he actually existed or not, but I never participated, because I didn't care. (They also argued about whether "The Wizard of Oz" was a movie for "babies.") On the other hand, my mom, my brother and I had some serious discussions about which was the "real" Santa Claus: the one at Sears, the one at the tree lot, or the one at Penn Square. We decided the real one was at Penn Square, and I think it was because he had to park his sleigh at the Antique store on Classen Circle, just down the street from the mall.
My only other Santa memory is from a day in the middle of summer. I think I was six years old, my brother four. An older cousin of ours had come over with some large jingle bells. My brother and I were in the kitchen, when we heard him start shaking them. When we ran into the living room, my Dad said that Santa was doing a summer check to see if we were being naughty or nice. We raced out onto the front porch and stared at the sky while our cousin howled with uncontrolable laughter.
Somewhere between 1969 and 1971, Mom had casually mentioned that Santa was just Dad in a red suit. I don't remember why this came up in conversation, but I do remember that we were in the car on our way to a mall in the city on a sunny afternoon. It didn't surprize me, since Santa had my dad's handwriting, but I did wonder where Dad hid the red suit, because I'd never seen it. But from then on, everytime Santa was mentioned at Christmas time, my brother and I always responded with that smile one has when one is in on the joke.
Christmas of 1971 was celebrated on Christmas Eve for some reason. Santa was passé by that time, so there were no questions about how that would affect his visit. Previously that summer, I had discovered plastic model car kits, and I had spotted one that I really wanted. It was a Monogram model of a souped up fire engine called the Firecracker. That was at the top of my list for presents.
My Dad had a little shack out back of the house that served as his man-cave. That's where he had been hiding the presents that year, and my parents were not finished wrapping gifts when the family started arriving. I heard my Dad struggling with the back door, so I went to help him. When I opened the door, he started yelling "Go away! Get outa here!" I left, but not before I spotted the Firecracker in the stack of boxes he was bringing in. I had to act surprized when I opened it later. I may have overdone it.
I still have that model. It's in the china cabinet in my dining room.
For some reason, whenever I think of the family coming to that house, the face that stands out most is that of my cousin Gary. We never saw him any other time of year, and I could write a whole 'nother post about his sad life. He died of alcoholism just a few years ago.
In 1973, we moved to a new house, one that had a real dining room, and my mom became the hostess for the family's Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts. But her mother died in 1989, and there were marriages and divorces, and kids moving across the country, and other things that happen in the evolution of a family. Thanksgiving just seemed to disappear from the calendar in a way. And yet, Christmas always brings us together. The extended family is no longer there, and the significant others have changed. We don't even celebrate the holiday on the actual day anymore; we have to work it around everybody's schedules. (One year we celebrated on December 15, and another was in February.) But my mom works really hard to bring it all together, regardless of the changing circumstances.
I've always loved giving gifts, and I love it even more if they're truly appreciataed. My first Christmas as a working man (I was 16), I got my brother a Pachinko machine. He loved it, and I loved that he loved it. Now he lives halfway across the country, and I know little about his home life. As a result, I'm having trouble this year figuring out what to get his significant other. I imagined she might be having the same difficulty, so I sent her a suggestion for one particular family member. She reacted with anger, and I was confused by that reaction until I talked to my mom, who told me that the current economy has been bad for them. She apparently took my suggestion as a demand at a time when they could ill afford even the trip. Then we find out that she can't get off work, and won't be coming this year, which is very disappointing. So she's been on my mind a lot this season.
But that situation also made me wonder about the future of the holiday in my family. Without Mom and Dad, Scott's family actually has no use for Christmas, and I'm thinking in particular that I wouldn't ever see his daughter again. I'm seeing Gaby and myself, grey-headed, sitting in a Cracker Barrel, exchanging small gifts over turkey and dressing, and trying to get that game down to just one golf tee. I hope the future is a bit brighter than that. Who knows, maybe by that time we'll be able to take a cruise or something.
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