Tag: humor

cheap beer and memories

If nothing else I am a guy that can learn a lesson. I’m open to it and I recognize the value of applying what I’ve learned to do right by virtue of having done it wrong. I’m also burdened with a tremendous memory, in particular for the stupid things that I’ve said and done. I beat myself up mercilessly to this day for things that I did even in my teens. Mostly between the hours of 11 PM and 3 AM.

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My mantra has typically been “I don’t think before I speak, I like to be as surprised as everyone else by what comes out.” I tend to be pleasantly sarcastic so I’m not very offputting. But Sunday I had the opportunity to see a friend do a replay of one of my most regrettable stupid comments. And it was an eye-opener.

A little back-story. When I was 20 my dad and I went to visit one of his co-workers. Another hard working truck driver who had just been diagnosed with Cancer. Dad and I drove 100 miles to see him at his vacation home because that was how Dad was. We arrived at Smitty’s house around noon and we got the tour of the house. Smitty led us to the kitchen and the big man opened the refrigerator and grabbed 3 beers in his enormous hand. As he handed one to me I stupidly said: “Ugh, Miller Lite.” Smitty looked at me and then at Dad. I looked at Dad as well and he was pissed, I just knew.

We eventually said our goodbyes and walked to the truck. His door was barely closed when he turned and looked me in the eyes, serious as a heart attack and said:” when someone offers you a beer I don’t care if it tastes like a warm glass of camel-piss you take it and you say thank you. Do you understand me?” I did, and I felt awful. But it stuck with me. From that day forward I always cheerfully accepted whatever anyone offered me.

Yesterday I was serving a charity breakfast. The Masons do a blood drive every year in our building and I make a full breakfast for all donors. I love to cook and I love to help. I look forward to it every year. In particular, I look forward to seeing my friend Paul. He seldom attends other functions but he always comes to this one to see me in the kitchen. On this day he stayed until the end to help me clean up.

We were joined in the kitchen by Dan, another friend. Paul and I were talking and Dan was scrubbing some pots. Paul asked me if I wanted to stick around and grab a beer with him after. I explained that I had to drive 2 hours home so probably no. It seemed I barely had time to turn around and there he was with three cans of beer, one for each of us. Miller Lite. I gladly accepted and all eyes were on Dan. Dan turns and says:”Miller Lite, that’s what I drink when I can’t drink my own piss!”

I looked at him and before I could stop myself I said: “Dan when someone offers you a beer just take it and say thank you. What’s wrong with you?”

Who said that?

Day 10…a letter to the leader of the Country

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Dear Mr. President:

You are perhaps the most amazing story in political history. Your election shook the world. It was historic on so many levels and the shock waves still ripple across the world one full year after your election.

On election night I watched the results unfold with unbridled glee. Not because I was supporting you, (I did in the same manner as every other election I have voted in, I voted against a candidate, not for one), but because of the sheer excitement of it. I felt vindicated because I predicted your victory when no one in my circle did. I simply knew that the polls were not accurate. That many who were polled either gave no answer or lied. for fear that supporting you would cause them backlash or social condemnation. Therefore the numbers that predicted a Hillary victory were simply not accurate and the “silent majority” would speak with their vote, not their voice. As I sat on the edge of my seat I embraced the tumult that then unfolded.

Of course, I didn’t realize the chaos that would ensue. The reaction from the pundits was hilarious and expected. While required to maintain an “objective” expression they failed miserably, they couldn’t contain their anger at your election. No surprises there for me. But the country itself did surprise me and continues to do so. College students felt violated and clamored tearfully for “safe spaces”. Grown men and women cried in public and called for the immediate disbanding of long-standing election protocols. In short, millions of people lost their fucking minds when their candidate didn’t win. It is a sad state of affairs but it is very telling of the mindset of our country. Our youth is unaccustomed to not getting their way, our adults have lost the ability of reasonable discourse, and our country is hopelessly divided. If you do an absolutely amazing job in the next three years your popularity will never exceed 50%. Fortunately, you don’t care about any of that.

Mr. President, you were elected by a lot of people who didn’t agree with the direction the previous administration was going. They didn’t necessarily vote for you, but for the issues that you stood for and that, let’s face it you were a lesser evil to many. You are not an ideal candidate. You are not Presidential in the way you carry yourself. You are crass, you can be a braggart, you are not well-spoken and you are impulsive in your words and actions. I can only speak for myself, but I thought your competitor was corrupt, while I only find you imperfect. I compromised a lot of my personal convictions to vote for you in hopes that you will grow into the job.

As the country still reels from your win, and as your critics and enemies pull out every stop to destroy you please remember that you hold the most powerful position in the free world. If I love my country I cannot possibly in good conscience want you to fail. That would be commensurate to hoping the pilot of my aircraft will fail. Do what you said you would do, fulfill your promises because that is integrity. Please also remember that with integrity comes the ability to absorb criticism, be civil to your detractors and to act upright at all times. The insolent temper tantrums, name-calling, and dick-measuring need to stop. It is not, whether you care about this or not, representative of your office. Even if I didn’t respect you, you sit in the chair that many great men have before you. Act like it.

The country is not broken, but it is cracking. Everything you do can either help fix or further the damage. I’m counting on you. Put the damn twitter account away and charge forward.

A concerned citizen.

my best thinking

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As part of acclimating to the much slower pace of my new environment, I have set a mental goal of accomplishing something significant, preferably physical, each day. I will not allow myself to be a couch potato watching 12 hours of TV a day and then go to bed mad at myself. A walk, a brief workout, some yard work does the trick. Just an hour of my day and I go to bed feeling accomplished, if only in a small way. It’s part of dealing with chronic illness, keep challenging yourself.

This morning I stepped out onto the deck and surveyed the trees surrounding the yard, Pretty barren. Yup, today I would do the leaves.

I went inside and threw on Jeans, a Henley shirt, and a heavy sweatshirt. I searched for my headphones, grabbed my phone off of the charger and headed outside. It was a cold day but I knew that once I was moving I would be fine. It is sad that I had to even think about that but as my condition has progressed I have grown sensitive to cold. Just another thing to deal with I guess.

As I head to the garage to grab my gear I look back and see Mom in the picture window. She looks happy. Happy that someone is there to help her with the yard since her husband died. Happy that she didn’t have to ask me to do it (she never would) and happy that I motivated myself to go out into the cold. I’ve been moping around the house lately and she knows that I need to snap out of it.

The work went smoothly. Clearing leaves is mindless work. I knew that I wouldn’t get it all done today but I could put a good dent in it. Headphones blasted a Spotify playlist into my ears, quieting the roar of the leaf blower. I barely notice the leaf blower going side to side, as if unaware that I was the one operating it, switching hands periodically to ease the fatigue in my forearms. I became fascinated with small details in front of me, like the random leaf that refused to submit to the onslaught of my blower and clung fiercely to the ground before finally yielding. I began to ease into a familiar Zen-like state where I do my best thinking. It happens a lot during yard work. Usually, my mind races and my thoughts barrage me like locusts on a windshield. In this state, they flowed like lava. As I worked I found my problems were right there with me, waiting to be addressed if I had enough yard to handle them all. I was in the right frame to sort them out. I savor and enjoy such moments, they are so very rare.

I have been in a funk lately on the heels of some disappointing medical news. While not normally prone to depression, this news came from so far out of left field that it shook me a bit. And for the first time in a while, I was thinking as if ole Superman had finally gotten himself in deep. I was in my own head thinking about my expiration date. I was feeling bad for myself. But the zest in the crisp Autumn air reminded me of the days when I had unshakeable faith that things would work out. As I worked in my father’s yard I thought of his eternal positivity and envisioned sitting on the wall and talking, like we used to. I thought of my children and how there were so many things I wanted to tell them. I focused on things that I wanted to do, see in my family and milestones to witness. I thought more about life in my years and not of years in my life. I canceled the pity party and committed to change my attitude.

All this from a fall day and a leaf blower? It’s hard to explain. It’s the act of working, which I miss so much. It’s being outside, where I have always been most comfortable. It’s 3 hours of yard work and a significant dent in a huge task. It’s the ache in my muscles. It’s the sense of accomplishment. All of these things showed me glimpses of the kid who stayed outside in the yard, long after everyone else went in. He would stand in the yard arms back, neck back, chest out and let the autumn winds flow all around him. That kid loved life, saw God in everything and knew how to be happy. He would want me to do that again.

Day 8 of the 30 day challenge…a letter to a product/company

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Dear Candy industry:

Please don’t think that I don’t know what you are up to.

You are not doing it for health reasons.

You are not doing it to address the National Obesity and Diabetes epidemic.

You are not fooling anyone.

You are shrinking your product’s serving sizes and you need to stop. The “share size” peanuts M & M’s is what fat fucks like me call ONE serving. And there is absolutely nothing fun about excitedly opening a Snicker’s “Fun Size” and seeing a serving the size of a squirrel turd. What’s next, will we open the package and I’ll get a whiff of chocolate smelling air?

Please, for the love of God remember who made you. Fat kids who wanted to eat their problems away. I will monitor my own blood sugar thank you very much.

I thank you for your consideration in this matter,

 

A longtime fan

Day 7…a letter to a celebrity to despise

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Dear Kathy Griffin:

I just want you to know that you are a despicable celebrity. It annoys me to no end that there might be a person somewhere  that is influenced by you. Your spotlight is undeserved, your celebrity is unearned and your influence is as toxic as it is unexplained.

If you have read this far you are probably knee-jerking your way to dismissing me as a Trump-supporter. You know, the white-supremacist Nazi redneck hillbilly inbred gun-toting bible-clutching toothless moron label that you have attributed to about 61 million people that didn’t vote for your candidate. If you came to that conclusion then you are wrong. I am just a middle-of-the-road American citizen. I don’t fit into any molds, I don’t have an agenda. I just care about right and wrong. And I think that everything about the way you make a living is wrong.

I am a lover of comedy, all kinds. The ability to laugh offsets much of the sadness in the world for many. Those that know how to create laughter have a special gift. You possess no such gift. Your “comedy” consists of mean-spirited barbs and attacks. You viciously attack anyone whose name is recognizable to draw attention to yourself. But once we are looking at you there is nothing to look at. You lack substance, empathy, discretion and sensibility.

It is not all your fault, I partially blame anyone who thinks that you are entertaining enough to dedicate time to. There is no accounting for taste.

I have earnestly hoped that Natural Selection, Nature’s way of eliminating the weak and impure, would have taken you away by now but that was not to be. Instead of falling through the chain of Hollywood, finally being spit out of the bottom of the porn industry like you deserve you again rose to National attention by sporting a likeness of the President of the United States’ bloody head. Yea that’s funny. Regardless of political party, a civilized person cannot find that acceptable or funny.

That was wrong. And you were called out for it. You received tremendous backlash and you begrudgingly gave a bullshit apology that no one believed. But at least you did. I was resentful that people knew your name again but happy you did kind of the right thing.

Until you later retracted your apology, realizing that your fans had no more of a moral compass than you. And for that I will always hate you. It was bad enough that you are talentless and unfunny but you are now a liar who spit in the faces of the people that never deserved your unwanted attentions in the first place.

Please crawl back into the pool of primordial ooze that you and your bad dye-job climbed out of. And please, for the sake of all of us just shut the fuck up.

with disgust,

A decent citizen

Crossroads…

cropped-cropped-lonely-man-by-the-bed1.jpgThe reason I named this blog as I did is that through my life I have been known to push through obstacles, illness and otherwise, and trudge on. My friends and family nicknamed me Superman because I seemed invincible despite everything that was thrown at me. It wasn’t always a compliment, in fact, it was sometimes a snarky shot meaning that I didn’t listen to common sense advice and other earthly notions. That I felt bulletproof. To be fair, they weren’t wrong. But that’s how I deal with things. It runs in my family. It is a good and a bad thing.

Putting on a good face presents well. I may have been sad and sick on the inside but I’m always going to tell you that I’m fine. My doctors gave me hell, told me that I wasn’t taking my illness seriously. I told them to leave me alone, I’m taking my meds and following your orders. You’re just asking me to act sick and I won’t do that. Right up to my transplant I pushed my luck, fought through the symptoms and feigned good health. I like to think that I spared my children from worry. Youth is hard enough without a sick father to worry about.

The downside of putting on a good face is that when the hammer falls it is more of a surprise to those close to you. Something that has been at the back of my mind all along is suddenly at the forefront of theirs. Word spread and the unthinkable happened, people starting feeling bad for me. The exact reason I didn’t make a big deal out of my illness. I hated how the first question people always asked is “how are you feeling?”

I suppose that I always thought there would be a cure. I woke each day hoping that something good was happening in some lab somewhere that was going to keep me off of dialysis. This strategy, regardless of how well it worked for me, was classic denial. I called it thinking positive.

What is so bad about positive thinking? It worked wonders for me. When I visited my Dr’s office I saw a lot of sick people. They didn’t see that when they saw me. I was working out, I was strong, my weight was under control and I walked with my characteristic “rooster strut” (courtesy of my wife, once again not a compliment). I refused to act like a sick person. I was actually told that I was an “inspiration” by a fellow patient. This mentality sustained me until the big day.

Post-transplant I thrived. I virtually ran out of that hospital determined to get my strength back and to make the most of the 15-20 years of good health my new kidney would give me if I took care of it. I bought a mountain bike, I went hiking, I hit the gym and I spent a lot of time outside with the kids to make up for the times that I sat on the sofa watching them play because I was too fatigued to join them. I had proved them all wrong, it was possible to positively think your way to good health. Even my doctors agreed that my way of dealing with it kept me strong enough to breeze through a difficult surgery and complex recovery like a warm knife through butter. I had vanquished the haters.

Then I rejected 4 1/2 years later. Almost overnight I went from feeling like Atlas to a 95-pound weakling. My bubble had burst. What I hadn’t been told is that the disease that had destroyed my original kidneys had could come back. And it did. I was mad as hell, how could they have not told me of this possibility?

Last week I went to see my nephrologist. My overall function is now 30%. In 2 years I have lost about 75% of my kidney function. I had absolutely no idea it was progressing that fast. I’m pissed, concerned and full of doubts right now of what my future holds, in particular, how long will I have what I consider “quality of life”?

I need to find that positivity again. Fast. Maybe even a little of that Superman. I liked it much better when everyone but me knew that I was sick.

an attempt at satire

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Imagine the country is a woman who belongs to a country club. And she receives a letter informing her that she is banned. Feedback welcome

Dear Madame Blue:

It is with great sorrow that I inform you that the party is almost over, that you are no longer the “it girl”.

When you first burst upon the scene, all of the old folks in the room took notice. The way in which you achieved your social status captured the attention of all of us. You were admired for your bravery, tenacity, individuality and of course your independence.

We all wanted to get to know you, to learn your secrets. Not everyone could do what you did. Some of us, admittedly approached you for their own benefit. It happens when you are on top. But you were gracious, you admitted that you were young and that you would make mistakes. You went so far as to put in on paper how committed you were to your beliefs. You even allowed for it to be amended. What an original concept!

You were interesting, exciting and full of new possibilities. We all wanted something from you. You obliged most of us, but insisted that you would help if your best interests were considered. Most of us found that to be fair. Those that didn’t kept quiet about it.

For a decent amount of time you did a good job of keeping your own house in order. We were all impressed at what you could do at such a young age. You kept an eye on what others in the room were doing but largely minded your own business. You were peaceful but strong.

Then the fighting started. Your house became divided and after much terrible fighting you almost split  in two. We watched to see how you would handle it. Your house stood after all, but it wasn’t the same. Bitterness and divisiveness prevailed.

When all of us got into a major ordeal, you picked the side you most agreed with and got involved. Your resources were a major part in ending a major dispute. It ended badly. Unable to reconcile, we got into another huge ordeal a mere 21 years later. Once again you picked the side you most agreed with and pitched in. Your resolve was amazing and appreciated. Most of us thanked you, the losers licked their wounds privately.

Then you changed. You began to meddle in the business of others. You were less discriminate in who you did business with and picked some fights that really weren’t yours. You meant well but didn’t think your actions through and you suffered some real embarressments and losses. And your family was torn by them. We began to resent you. The infighting in your family continues to this day yet you continue to focus on everyone in this room.

Madame Blue, there was a time when a single word from you would turn our heads and silence the room. Now, you have become a cautionary tale. Your family is struggling and needs you and you are not paying attention. You are not rewarding those that have worked hard and inviting the wrong people into your home. You are not listening to the ones that love you. You don’t even know that when you are not looking we are poking fun at you. Sure, some of us are nice to your face because we want something from you. But we used to look to you for leadership, for the better way to do things. Now you are a reality show. And your ratings are plummeting.

You once had so much potential, your accomplishments admirable and your endorsement invaluable. Please don’t squander what influence you have left by destroying your own house. Lead by example, take care of your family and be the beacon we all thought you to be. Be as good of a citizen as you are a warrior. There is still time and we need you in our club. The old you. You used to be great and can be again.

But until that time, we’d rather you stay away for a while. At least until your house in order.

With regrets,

The Rest of the World

The ride of, or for, my life…

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frus·tra·tion

frəˈstrāSH(ə)n/

noun

  1. the feeling of being upset or annoyed, especially because of inability to change or achieve something.

“I sometimes feel like screaming with frustration”

synonyms: exasperation, annoyance, anger, vexation, irritation

Yes, that is one definition. Here is another.

When you think you are all set with something for a while and you then find out you are not.

MY Synonyms: annoyed, pissed off, here we go again

Almost six years ago I had a kidney transplant. Truly a landmark moment in my life. A future of dialysis and a poor quality of life magically transformed into a bright future with at least 15 years of good health through one amazing gift from one amazing person. It was up to me to take care of the new kidney. To diligently take my medications, eat healthily and listen to my doctor. In addition, my donor was a friend and I further owed it to her to take care of her gift.

I looked forward to 15 years (or more) of good health and I was committed to taking care of it. I hit the gym, I started mountain biking, I ate right and watched my weight. Imagine my disappointment when 4 years later I had a rejection episode. My body will always try to reject the new organ so I take a lot of meds to suppress my immune system. Yet I ended up in the hospital with a severe loss of kidney function. Over the next 3 months, extensive testing will reveal that the original disease that destroyed my original kidneys had returned. The kicker was the Transplant team didn’t feel it necessary to tell me about this possibility. I was pissed. My prognosis was, while uncertain when, my new kidney would eventually fail to the point that I will be back where I was pre-transplant. That was not a good place.

Kidney disease has a wide array of unpredictable and unpleasant symptoms. Besides feeling “washed out” it is not uncommon to develop intolerances to everyday foods that generally would be considered healthy. Cramping, seizures, even cardiac events are possible when in failure if not monitored. As I progressed towards transplant before I developed anemia. I was cold all of the time. I required injections and a multitude of pills that would block this and one that would boost the other. Back and forth to the pharmacy and specialists. It was a roller coaster I was hoping not to ride for a long while.

This July I was told to expect the ride to begin soon.

I got my lab results back today. I’m anemic. Yay.Time to strap in because it’s going to be a long ride.

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Day 5 of the 30-day challenge…letter to a celebrity I admire

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To the Celebrity I admire:

Webster’s lesser definition of the word celebrity defines it as “the state of being well-known.” One can be well-known for a lot of reasons, there is Charles Manson as well as Casey Anthony celebrity. But being known is what really matters, and all of the power that comes with it.

What power you ask? A celebrity like Lamar Odom can get a kidney transplant immediately after destroying his body with drugs and prostitutes. But he’s well known so let’s bump his transplant up over Joe the electrician who has been waiting for a new lease on life for 6 years. Fuck him, he’s not famous.

You’re not like that. You’re one of the good ones.

  • You wait your turn in line, you don’t cut in front of others because your time is more important than everyone else’s.
  • You don’t yell at Cops and Firefighters and Maitre D’s etc. “do you know who I am!” when you can’t park in a fire lane or your table isn’t ready.
  • You don’t spout your politics because you know that Hollywood is a bubble and has no clue what the people who pay exorbitant prices for their products do to earn that money. You know what the average guy stands for and wouldn’t insult your audience.
  • You don’t lecture us on our “carbon footprint” from your private jet. You recognize the hypocrisy in that.
  • You have a gate around your property so you know better than to talk about open borders. 
  • You walk the streets among us because you are one of us. You don’t need a security detail.
  • You would gladly walk away from fame because it’s not that important to you, being a good person is.
  • You know that just because you sing, dance, act, rap, paint, shop, act like a desperate housewive or try to win at Big Brother…it doesn’t make you an expert on everything.
  • You manage to stay grounded even though everyone knows your name.

I would write that name on this letter but to my knowledge, I have no idea who you are. You don’t exist.

I fucking hate celebrities. I can safely say this without repercussion because hey, I’m not famous.

With distaste and disdain,

The Regular Schmuck

 

Day 2 of the 30 day challenge. A letter to myself as a child

Open letter to my younger self

Dear younger me:

Your life will probably not turn out as you expect. Nothing ever does. I am not saying it will be better or worse, just different. Don’t force it. A lot will depend on the decisions you make. Please spend time on your decision making, it will pay dividends.

Good judgment comes from experience. Experience comes from bad judgment.  You can only get experience by living your own life so I can’t make it easy for you. You are going to make mistakes. You will learn from all of them. Cuts and bruises are going to happen if you live your life. A good scar is the beginning of a great story. Try to keep your mistakes to a minimum. Know a bad idea when you see it. Bad judgment comes from your gut, so listen to it. If your gut tells you something is a bad idea it probably is. You have it, I know you do. When you were a Junior in High School Billy and Rick tried to make you get in the car after we had been drinking all night. You said no, they called you a pussy. But two mothers had to identify headless bodies at the morgue that night, not three. Please remember that night it will serve you well.

Listen to your father. He knows. There are going to be times that you think he has no idea what you are going through, you will be wrong. When you are impulsive, he will want to slow you down. Hear him out. Ask him about his childhood, it will make you understand why he is like he is. He doesn’t always show it, but you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Don’t wait until all you have is a gravestone to tell him how much you loved him. Tell him now.

Don’t be ashamed of where you came from. There are some uncles and cousins that are white trash embarrassment’s but they are family and a reminder of what you could have been if your father didn’t work so hard to escape it. They are where you started, not where you will end up. When they call you the rich kid because your father worked hard, joined a union and bought a house it’s their journey. Not yours.

Don’t pick your friends. Just be yourself and it will happen. The best people in high school are the ones that talked to everybody. Don’t wait until after high school to learn this. There will be a time when Nerds are cool.

Don’t shy away from hard work. Someday someone will ask you where you learned to work like you do. You will thank your Dad. And you will know that they are impressed by you. You will have friends whose Daddy’s will buy them shiny new cars. You will work for yours, and because of that, it will be nicer than theirs. Hard work will give you something you will always savor and desire, the feeling of accomplishing something. Hopefully, you will never lose that feeling.

You will love the ladies. When looking for “the one” look for cute and nice. You will find that Hot often means bitch. The hot ones always look for the next, better deal. The cute and nice one, if you treat her properly will be looking at you and she will be yours to lose. After the looks are gone, you will still love her for the nice. And you will suffer a broken heart, maybe more than once, I can’t tell you how many. It’s ok to marry the 2nd runner-up.

  • Be a good friend. It’s a rare and valuable commodity.
  • Be kind to others. It’s free.
  • Talk to old people. You will love them and they will love you.
  • Listen more than you talk. It will serve you well and people will wonder what you are thinking about and it will piss them off.
  • Don’t argue with stupid people. You lose IQ Points and they don’t absorb them.
  • Wherever you are, that’s the place to be. Don’t look around when you’re with someone. They hate that.
  • Always tell people how you feel about them. They need to know. It might make someone’s day.  It might save their life. And it might be someone’s last day. You don’t know and that’s the bitch of it.

The rest you are going to have to figure out for yourself. Be a good person and life will be good. Your legacy is how you are remembered by others. Work towards building that legacy starting…now.

Oh yeah, don’t let bitterness drag you down. It’s like an anchor and it will sink you. Let some things go, you’ll thank me for it.

Fondly,

Your future self