An Ode to My Dad

Good Afternoon Ladies & Gentlemen,

 

Today’s entry is going to be… a little bit of a departure from my usual happy-go-lucky kind of rant. Basically, it’s going to get a little real. Sure, there’ll be cute little stories, probably a few puns, & life-learned lessons mixed in… but it’s also going to be dealing with some legitimate subject matter. Not just beer, pandas, horrible movies, crazy dreams and vacations. So if that’s not what you’re looking for in your life right now, I completely understand & suggest that you just move on to the next entry. You see, today would have been my dad’s 56^th birthday. I saw would of course because he passed away just under four weeks ago in a sudden & unexpected way… as most people under the age of 75 do. With that in mind, I’m going to use this forum to just shed a little light on one of the greatest men that I’ve personally known & hopefully get a few things off my chest in the meantime.

 

I guess his story starts back about fifty-six years ago in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. He was one of eight children. About the time that he was 8, they moved to beautiful Ogden, Utah and he grew up in this modest home (previously in this latest Christmas post) during his teenage years. In high school, he played baseball, basketball & football… but wasn’t really recruited as it was the late 70’s & there really wasn’t much prospects for scholarships, so he entered the Army. There he spent about three years in the service as Military Police, including a year stationed in Germany. He became an expert marksman & upon completion of his service, he because a sheriff deputy back home in Ogden& used his G.I. benefits towards an Engineering degree from Weber State College (now University, you may have heard of it now thanks to Damian Lillard). Along the way, he also met my mom, they married shortly after his return to the states, and a year or so later, their greatest achievement was born. Followed 15 months later by my baby brother. I know that’s a real quick summation of the first 22-23 years of his life but, hey, I didn’t really know him before that.

 

Obviously I don’t remember a whole lot until about the time my brother joined our family, but I remember our house in Ogden that we lived in from about that time until I was eight years old… and it was your standard reminiscent story. House with a porch, quiet neighborhood, neighbor kids you played with, little basketball hoop in the driveway, all that stuff. What I remember about my dad is him sleeping mostly, but never being too tired to play with us really. See, he worked the night shift as a county sheriff while my mom worked during the day… so he usually got home from a long day at work, right about the time my brother & I were getting up. He’d be there for breakfast, play a little bit, and then he usually took us to one of our aunts’ houses for free babysitting while he slept. Then when school started, we didn’t really need babysitters as much, so he slept while we went to school… and then we would see him at dinner as he’s on his way off to work. On his days off though, we barbecued, played hoops, went on hikes & adventures, rode bicycles, went to the gym to swim with him, all that stuff. He really liked working out & keeping in shape… and of course, being a police officer, he wanted to be at the top of his game… because that can totally mean the difference between life & death… and besides, it was good quality time with his sons while doing what he would have to do anyway. We totally dug it too.

 

An added bonus/deterrent of having a cop dad who slept during the day… was he would be the contact if something happened at school. Sure, if we did something bad, he was right there to intimidate & correct the behavior. More often than not though, he was kind of on our side. Once I was accused of cheating on a Math test… so they called in my dad… about two hours into his nap/sleep before work. He showed up, probably in a Harley Davidson, and the teacher explained the situation. He knew that I was pretty exceptional at math… so he looked at me quizzically, “Son, did you cheat?” No. To the teacher, “Why do you think he cheated?” She explained that I just had the answers & didn’t show my work. I often did the calculations in my head, so I didn’t show a lot of work (if any) on the paper. He waited a few seconds, “Is that it? Just that there isn’t anything else on the paper except the answers?” Yes. “Do you have another test handy or would you mind writing down a few problems?” After a few minutes, she wrote some algebra down… and it basically took me less time to answer it than for her to write it. To the teacher: “Are those correct?” Yes. “Son, show your work.” Okay. “Thank you, now I’m going to go get some f**king sleep before I’m up for twelve hours protecting the innocent” and he was off…

 

Another incident in the 3^rd grade I think, we were cleaning up from break time & we had a substitute teacher. She told everybody to get to their seat, but a few of my friends & I had a board game out… so they went to their seat & I started cleaning up the game to put back on the shelf. Well, as I put it back on the shelf, the teacher grabbed a handful of my hair to pull me away… so I instinctively turned & punched her in the stomach. Well, needless to say, this was principal’s office material… and my dad was called in, probably with a message like “Your son $teve was in a fight… with a teacher” and he was just getting dressed for work… so he showed up in full regalia complete with full-holstered utility belt. The principal & teacher told him that I had punched her in the stomach, I explained that I was just cleaning up after myself& she basically dragged me by the hair (I was 8!). He looked at the teacher, “Is that true? Was he cleaning up?” Well… he was supposed to get to his seat. “But instead he was cleaning up his mess & helping you out in the process… and instead of saying thank you, you pulled him by his hair? Frankly, I’m not sure he was wrong for hitting you.” She started talking & he just kind of stared at her… then turned to me, “Son, don’t ever hit a woman… even if she’s a stupid c**t who would strike a child knowing full well the legal ramifications of her actions.” To the teacher & principal: “We’re done here… and if you ever touch my son again, I will make it look like an accident.” Okay, the exact wording is a little off… but the message was clear. He was a 6’7” athletic guy that looked like a Lorenzo Lamas with a moustache, aviator sunglasses, a cop uniform, brandishing firearms legally & usually had a German Shepherd for a sidekick. He was an 80’s action star… so you didn’t f**k with him or his family.

 

About the time that I was 13, my parents got divorced… and I just started junior high… and hitting puberty, so that’s a lot of sh*t for a kid to happen all at once. I had my rough patches… but my dad was having a rough patch himself. We had moved to a larger house when I was 8, so obviously there’s always financial troubles… but there was also a fatal road accident out in front of our house one 4^th of July weekend during a barbecue (I was at another one) but he of course was right there & saw the driver die (after he kept calling him “Jesus” because of his long hair & beard at the time)… and then a few months later, during work, he had pulled a little girl out of a nearby reservoir… and apparently, he realized that he didn’t want to be a cop anymore. However, through all of the rough patches, my parents were always there for me. We never went wanting. If I needed somebody to talk to (or just cry at), they were there… and my dad was always willing to give sage-like advice (with wisecracks of course) and help out in any way that he could… even though I can’t even really imagine the hell that he must’ve been going through at the time. After they separated, my brother & I visited him at his apartment on weekends… but both of my parents remarried within about a year to great stepparents. Through high school, I lived with my mom… and my brother lived with my dad most of the time.

 

My dad started taking jobs in packing plants, substitute teaching, and eventually as the maintenance man at a call center where to this day, even though he hasn’t worked there in over a decade, people still ask me about him. He was great at what he did… and he was just so much happier doing it. He would sing whatever song was on his mind (thanks to KBER in SLC) while he walked through the halls & greeted people with a baritone “How you doin’?” Power drill in hand, singing “Silent Lucidity” or “Thunderstruck” or whatever to whoever would listen. It was a breath of fresh air that people needed in a fairly bland place like that… and people loved it. He was always kind, charismatic, energetic & most of all, dependable… which many people have told me are among my greatest qualities, so I’m pretty sure I picked up a LOT of that from him. Oh, I also started working at the call center as a summer job during high school & then full-time once I started college… so I got to see the man work. Everybody loved him there. He often told me it was 8 of the best years of his life… but eventually he had to move on, for a number of reasons… mostly an incompetent coworker who may have tried to kill him a few times, but it was just time.

 

I lived with my dad for about five years while I went to college (yes, I changed majors a few times) because I hadn’t seen much of him the few years before, it was convenient, and renting the basement was affordable on my budget. All in all, it was a great time. I usually had a cooked meal (leftovers) waiting for me after school & work, during weekends I would do homework and take breaks to watch football with my dad, we were getting to know each other a lot better than in years past, since he had an engineering degree he was able to help with a few concepts (though apparently a lot had changed in 25 years from when he got his degree), I was traveling the world a lot because of my job, and you know… I was in college… so good times were had. Sigh… everybody used to comment that I looked exactly like my dad… and I would pass it off as old people reminiscing… until they would show me a few pictures of him in his late teens/early twenties… and I looked EXACTLY like my dad… well, if he had Coke bottle glasses… I'll have to share those with you someday when I can scan them from wood carvings to jpeg.

 

About the time that I was 22, my dad was drinking more & more… and then it culminated when he basically ate nothing but Evan Williams whiskey for about two weeks… and after a few discussions on deaf ears, we basically had to call the paramedics to come get him & help clean him out. It was one of the hardest days… mostly because it was probably the day that my iconic image of my dad, this sweet, intelligent, athletic God among men… who had overcome everything from massive neck, back & knee surgeries to shootouts throughout his life with little to no problem… had quickly turned into a mumbling, enfeebled, naked man who couldn’t even bath himself because of an addiction to alcohol. On top of that, the morning that we finally called the paramedics, I was heading to the airport for a week-long trip to Miami with work… so I wasn’t even going to be there to help him. I mean… it’s probably better that way, especially the first few days that they’d basically be force feeding him or whatever but still… he would’ve been there for me… like he was when I was in my car wreck at 16. Well, I guess that was mostly my mom as I was living with her at the time, but he visited me in the hospital of course. I was there for him when I got back from the trip, but by then, he was rehydrated & just now realizing that alcohol was a major trigger for him… so I wouldn’t bring it up in front of him or anything. I didn’t really drink then anyway.

 

About a year or so after that, I was finishing up school & decided that it was time to move out on my own… at least to my own apartment where I could bring a girl to… you know, study or whatever. I still went to visit from time to time obviously… and he would always ask what the next step was for me. I was graduating soon… but he knew that I liked my job (especially back when I was traveling) and wanted to know what my goals were. He always had a very pragmatic & logical approach to things. When I was in school and wanted to be a professional basketball player, he was always like “Okay, you’re going to have to work really hard at it… but I believe in you. Just make sure that you’re getting A’s in school because you don’t want to pay 30% of that money to somebody else, right? Handle your own business, get educated, and that way if something happens, you’re not just a broken horse. You get to use your mind too.” He knew I was a Caucasian American… and I was under seven feet tall (by a good four inches). How many of them are in the NBA right now? Name me three! I dare you!!! But he knew that an education was key, maybe because of his own experiences growing up a little. Anyway, it was about that time that I told him my plans… and that it probably involved moving out of state. Though he was sad that we wouldn’t get to see each other as much, he wished me luck. So after that is when I started bouncing around the Western U.S. to places like Denver, Lake Tahoe & eventually here in San Francisco where I’ve been the past four years now (almost to the day). He helped me move when he could… and he was in his fifties. He came to visit the first year that I was here & we hit up a Utes game AND a Chiefs-Raiders game (Utes & Chiefs were his teams). Unfortunately he didn’t get to come out more than that because of financial troubles, even when I offered to fly him out. His health had started to deteriorate with various ailments, plus a knee replacement surgery, and medications aren’t exactly cheap in this country. However, he always maintained high spirits in front of me (and from what I understand, everybody else too).

 

This last Christmas, I spent a little time with him, mostly watching movies & helping with the radiator hose on his pickup (a 1979 Ford Ranger that his dad Grandpa Love bought off the showroom floor & he had spent the past few years restoring to its former glory). He mentioned a few times how proud of me he was… and that he missed me immensely. I told him the same in return. I missed him every day. I called him every week or so to catch up on this & that, mostly football and stuff like that because otherwise it was “Work is work… nothing unusual… how about you?” Occasionally he would tell me about a road trip on his Harley through the mountains of Utah with his buddy Charlie & that was his escape. We had a great Christmas with all of the family together, so that was fantastic… but he was obviously hurting. He had overcome a LOT of adversity and was still fighting… the most recent setback was a slipped disc that he suffered about two weeks before I went to visit, and he told me that it was like “an open root canal all the way up his leg” which… I can assume would be absolutely horrible.

 

Unfortunately, it just all seemed to come to a head that morning on December 28^th and… well, he passed away. The man who always taught my brother & I (and anybody else who would listen) that “Pain is temporary. Glory is forever!” and to “Never give up, never surrender” like he was starring on Galaxy Quest years before it came out… his body had given in… quite suddenly & unexpectedly. Family& friends all came together to pay their respects & share stories… and I guess that’s kind of what I’m doing here too.

 

What I remember most about him… I guess… it’s that he was a man that didn’t want to hurt anybody unless they wronged another. He was an adamant protector, loving father & husband, craftsman, and just had a Passion for life that I hope to maintain in my own. Of course he wasn’t without his flaws, but who among us is without them? Basically, he’s a man who worked hard, played hard, lived hard & loved hard… so I guess it only makes sense that he died hard (“Yippee ki-yay, mutha f**ka!!!”) and it’s going to be hard for the rest of us left behind to overcome it. I’m not sure if it has really hit home for me yet… but I’m told it comes in waves & you really won’t see it coming usually… but hey, I’ll be prepared, I guess. What else can you do? My dad is gone. Period. He ain’t coming back. On paper, I totally get it. That’s what happens when people die. Then again, a few months from now, I’ll have to head back to Utah to help clean up his house & stumble upon something that triggers a fit… or next Christmas somebody will say something… whatever, it all happens. The important thing is to remember the lessons that he taught me, even the ones that he didn’t know he was teaching by leading by example… even if that example is what NOT to do sometimes. Everybody copes in their own way… but one thing’s for sure… I’m going to miss you, Dad. Happy birthday!

 

So, my brother Kiel and my buddy C-Rock are coming to town this weekend to hit up the sights & sounds of the Bay Area… and also bring me my PS4 so that I can start playing that. It’s their first time coming to the Bay in a few years… and I have no idea what they’ll want to do… so hopefully they came prepared. Worst case scenario, we’ll have a few video games, movies & a sh*t ton of homebrew… so until then, have a great weekend everybody!!!

Teleport Back a Year

Good Afternoon Ladies & Gentlemen,

Well, today marks the 1st Anniversary of the Day of Infamy where basically my cushy little gig wasn't quite so cushy...and this whole recession thing kinda hit home. Quite a bit has changed since then. My family's gotten a year older...which means my parents are now in their fitties and my nieces and nephews are spongier than ever. My friends are now scattered all over the still-United States...as opposed to being about a ten minute drive away. My job & ambition have taken me to a different state...but at what cost? I guess time will only tell if the moves that I made were the right ones...but they sure seemed that way at the time...and regardless, it won't drag me down...because I've got high hopes for the future...and a deluxe apartment in sky...just trying to get a piece of that pie. A wise man once said that fish don't fry in the kitchen, while beans don't burn on the grill, and it's gonna take a whole lot of t-ryin' just to make it up that hill...but once you're up in the big leagues and it's your turn at bat...I forget the rest...but I'm pretty sure it ends up there ain't being nothin' wrong with that...because we're movin' on up. I think Lincoln said it. I'll have to Google that. Anyway, I'm feeling a little better today...and decided to spend the day indoors cleaning up around the apartment and resting so I don't get sick again. Little bit of a Gloomy Gus Day yesterday when I got home...feeling miserable and nobody there to tuck me in...but luckily I had my mom, dad & brother calling...and my good friends like Bubbles & JL Clyde there to talk to...though virtually from hundreds of miles away. Thanks. Love y'all madly. Anyway, enough of that stuff, here's the news...

Invincible Rip-off - More proof that the Cowboys TRY to be like the Eagles…but simply can't pull it off…even over twenty years later. Okay, so you've all the Marky Mark movie "Invincible" based on a true story about the bartender who tried out for the Eagles during open tryouts back in the early 80's, right? No? Go watch it. Well, I guess I basically just told you the story and saved you two hours…but still, Eagles, go watch it. Anyway, now former Cowboys receiver / coke addict Michael Irvin is launching a reality TV show in which 12 “football neophytes” will compete for an impressive grand prize - a spot on the Dallas Cowboys’ training camp roster. Irvin says, “I don’t know if you can walk upon any group of guys that wouldn’t say they dreamed of playing in the NFL when they were playing in their front yard. So we’re going to take a group of guys from their front yard, dwindle them to one and give that guy the opportunity of a lifetime.” The Cowboys confirmed that one of their 80 roster spots will go to the show’s winner, but team owner Jerry Jones was not available for further comment. The NFL did not immediately return a call. The show, which doesn’t yet have a title, will air this spring on Spike. It is being produced by the same company that’s behind “The Biggest Loser” and many other reality TV hits. To make things even worse, Irvin will not only host…but have friends like Troy Aikman, Emmitt Smith, Deion Sanders and owner Jerry Jones stop by for cameos. Just when I was starting to like Spike TV and their CSI marathons and MANswers, they have to do this. Oh well, I'll watch the Contender & Contender: Muay Thai reruns when they come on. My prediction - The winner will have a criminal record…just so he can smoothly transition into the Cowboys organization.

Afrika Update - Police in Nigeria are holding a goat on suspicion of attempted armed robbery. Wait for it, hear the whole story before you judge. Vigilantes took the black and white beast to the police saying it was an armed robber who had used black magic to transform himself into a goat to escape arrest after trying to steal a Mazda 323. "The group of vigilante men came to report that while they were on patrol they saw some hoodlums attempting to rob a car. They pursued them. However one of them escaped while the other turned into a goat," Kwara state police spokesman Tunde Mohammed told Reuters by telephone. "We cannot confirm the story, but the goat is in our custody. We cannot base our information on something mystical. It is something that has to be proved scientifically, that a human being turned into a goat," he said. Belief in witchcraft is widespread in parts of Nigeria, Afrika's most populous nation. Residents came to the police station to see the goat, photographed in one national newspaper on its knees next to a pile of straw. Now, I know what you're thinking…and it sounds absolutely ridiculous…but think about it. Okay, sure they may have just been chasing two guys, turn a corner…and one's there…and a goat's there…so to keep from looking like slow pokes, they say he turned into a goat. That's one scenario. However, what if the guy DID turn himself into a goat? They bring the goat in, everybody laughs, gets their pictures taken with him and they let him go. This car thief morphs back into a man and is free on the streets…or whatever the equivalent is in Nigeria, the savannah or something. I know some of you out there believe in Magick…and I believe anything is possible. Still don't think that we need more money in public schools? Remember this the next time a proposition comes up for a tax to help out schools…or there's a fundraiser or something. Make teaching an occupation you can afford to live on…otherwise we'll have goats in custody in our jails too. Don't think this story won't come up on my campaign to become Governor later on in life.

Teleportation Update - On a similar segway, scientists have come a bit closer to achieving the "Star Trek" feat of teleportation. No one is galaxy-hopping, or even beaming people around, but for the first time, information has been teleported between two separate atoms across a distance of a meter…or yard for us. This is a significant milestone in a field known as Quantum Information Processing, said Christopher Monroe of the Joint Quantum Institute at the University of Maryland (GO TERRAPINS!!!), who led the effort. Teleportation is one of nature's most mysterious forms of transport: Quantum information, such as the spin of a particle or the polarization of a photon is transferred from one place to another, without traveling through any physical medium. It has previously been achieved between photons (a unit, or quantum, of electromagnetic radiation, such as light) over very large distances, between photons and ensembles of atoms, and between two nearby atoms through the intermediary action of a third. None of those, however, provides a feasible means of holding and managing quantum information over long distances. Now the JQI team, along with colleagues at the University of Michigan (GO WOLVERINES!!!), has succeeded in teleporting a quantum state directly from one atom to another over a meter. That capability is necessary for workable quantum information systems because they will require memory storage at both the sending and receiving ends of the transmission. In the January 23rd issue of the journal Science, the scientists report that, by using their protocol, atom-to-atom teleported information can be recovered with perfect accuracy about 90 percent of the time - and that figure can be improved. (That's right, perfect accuracy…90% of the time…think about it) "Our system has the potential to form the basis for a large-scale 'quantum repeater' that can network quantum memories over vast distances. Moreover, our methods can be used in conjunction with quantum bit operations to create a key component needed for quantum computation." A quantum computer could perform certain tasks, such as encryption-related calculations and searches of giant databases, considerably faster than conventional machines. The effort to devise a working model is a matter of intense interest worldwide.

Physicist Richard Feynman is quoted as having said that "if you think you understand quantum mechanics, you don't understand quantum mechanics." Or sometimes he is cited thusly: "I think I can safely say that nobody understand quantum mechanics." Nonetheless, here is how the University of Maryland describes Monroe's work. Teleportation works because of a remarkable quantum phenomenon called Entanglement which only occurs on the atomic and subatomic scale. Once two objects are put in an entangled state, their properties are inextricably entwined. Although those properties are inherently unknowable until a measurement is made, measuring either one of the objects instantly determines the characteristics of the other, no matter how far apart they are. You know what? I just realized that you might not care about Teleportation…and the only Entanglement you're concerned about is the entanglement of limbs & other extremities with your lover (I feel ya) or maybe just the entanglement of your hair…so if you'd like to read more, there's a link. I think the idea of teleportation is awesome…but I realize that we also don't really have the scientific knowledge at this point to be beaming people up quite yet. However, if a guy can turn himself into a goat to avoid going to jail for attempted jacking of a Mazda, then I suppose anything's possible with perseverance and a little luck.

Dita Von Teese - Dita von Teese, the raven-haired reincarnation of striptease artistes from 1940s America, is returning to one of the most famous nude revues in Paris, happy to be back in a city with a respect for her craft. "I feel that Paris is a place that still appreciates its showgirls," she told Reuters in an interview before a two-week run at the celebrated Crazy Horse theater from February 1st. Von Teese, a familiar figure at the Paris couture shows, has carved a peculiar niche over the years, leading the way as burlesque has grown from simple striptease to becoming an established part of the fashion world. Two years ago she emerged from a rhinestone-encrusted bubble bath as the first guest star at the Crazy Horse but the new show will have more specially designed numbers, including two songs she has recorded herself. "I feel I have to raise the bar," she said. The Crazy Horse has been a Paris institution since 1951, regularly drawing celebrities like Madonna or fashion designer Jean-Paul Gaultier to see its dancers strut the stage in little more than fluorescent wigs and strobe lights. "I've always had a real fascination with the Crazy Horse ever since I was a teenager and I found a picture of this line of nearly nude toy soldiers standing at attention," she said, referring to the trademark parade that opens the nightly show. "I wanted to do something more elaborate this time. Combine the Crazy Horse style with what I do which is classic American burlesque."

Inspired by the venerable names of stripping and pinup such as Gypsy Rose Lee and Bettie Page, she has an almost scholarly interest in the era of the 1930s and 1940s when the renowned Minsky's Burlesque ruled on Broadway. In person, a pale and softly spoken woman in an elegant green frock and carefully coiffed hair, Von Teese, born Heather Sweet (not a bad name to begin with), says "Everything I do professionally comes from what my hobbies were, which was dressing in vintage clothes, driving in vintage cars, listening to retro music and reading about burlesque stars." (Hmm, we have the same hobbies) The distinctive look, which she maintains even when not performing, has always made her stand out but she said the attention had been a help in her stage life. "I was so shy in other ways but I was never shy about that. For people to be looking at me because I was wearing an unusual hat or a strange dress and looking like I stepped off a movie set -- I've been used to that for my entire adult life." She has managed a delicate transition, taking on a glamorous allure that has elevated her from the gyrating ranks of laptop dancers but she says her style has actually changed little since she started almost 20 years ago. "I started performing burlesque in 1991 and originally my audience was in strip clubs, pole dancing clubs, fetish clubs and I've watched the way it changed. I've been doing the same show all along but why has it become more fashionable? It's interesting because I'm not the one that's changed." Okay, so honestly I had no idea who Dita Von Teese was…but the name sounded a little familiar…so I googled it. She was married to Marilyn Manson. Really? Didn't see that one coming. Anyway, if you're in Paris, check out her show. Anybody inspired by Bettie Page and was born Sweet is cool in my book.

So let's see, got the football stuff, the science stuff, the sexy brunette stuff, nothing really in the news about Pandas or Sexbots and I'm too cloudy headed to come up with a Movie List...so I guess that'll do it for today. I hope that you're all having a groovy weekend. Play safe...and have a great day!!!

Yeah Well, I Hope Your Babies Look Like Monkeys

Good Afternoon Ladies & Gentlemen,

Well, the "big" interview for my manager certification was yesterday. I arrived about 45 minutes early because I was expecting a little more traffic (and I'm like that) and ran into Amelia but she was working so we just said hi and then she texted me afterwards. The guy interviewing before me was Russian (?) so we chatted for about thirty seconds before the conversation ended. The interview itself went great. Two tenured managers asked me questions about my career goals, ambitions, what skills I possessed that'd make me a great leader (ninja skills intrigued them the most), examples where I used these skills as well as others, and all in all, it was just a great little interview. I didn't even have to use what my Italian friends refer to as "Fuffa" to get through it...which is another skill that I neglected to mention on the resume or in the interview. By the way, Fuffa is explained to me as the ability to bullsh*t...like it's breathing. Anybody who has ever talked to me can usually pick up on this...though I mix it well with true sincerity. It's a real gift...and I don't know if it's learned or just something genetic that you're born with...but scientists may find out in due time.

One of the interviewers, I found out, is also big in Vegas as an HR manager...so I asked him about my chances down there (or anywhere) and any suggestions that he had for me. Here's the main points...

1. Go Back to School - Reason being, I have two associate's degrees...but of course everybody's getting bachelor degrees so if I want to stay competitive then I'd better get on that. Besides, education never hurt nobody, right? Basically, it's not enough to know the stuff...but to SHOW that you know the stuff, I guess. The only thing is...I see college as a huge ripoff that only exists as a way for parents of horny teenagers to give lots of money away. Not having my parents pay for ANY of my seven years of college, I just see it as a major waste of money, period. I have two useless pieces of paper hanging on my wall after tens of thousands of dollars spent on stuff that I basically already knew. Pain in the ass. That being said, probably not going to get an honorary degree from anywhere now...but it's just my opinion. Obviously those degrees are coming back to help me out now, right?


2. Get Experience - Translation: Take a major paycut and start over to get some of that "real world" experience and know-how. Besides, most of your competition is already there and have been for years learning the job that they'd have to spend an hour or so to teach you. In other words, the last ten years of your life have been wasted on working hard and doing the best that you can. You may as well have just done nothing and be in the same position from their standpoint.


3. Risk - Las Vegas is always changing (part of its appeal) but any move down there is going to involve a LOT of risk as far as job security, restructuring, housing, financial stability, global warming, whatever. Sure, the company may look good now...but in a year, who the hell knows? Just look at my "future employer" from a few months ago. Then again, thanks to trillions of dollars going into foreign wars, outsourcing, technology, and blah blah blah, everybody's job is at risk...just more fluid in vacation places like Las Vegas.
   
   

Summary (interpretted by my Noggin) - The interview was great, you're an amazing guy, great resume, very charming & interesting, your managers have nothing but incredible things to say about you...but to have a better chance of actually having a career you're going to have to go back to school full-time (already did seven years of full-time college for those two two-year degrees), while taking a major paycut to start over at the bottom of the company, while moving out on your own to a new environment where anything can happen at any moment...and it's probably going to be bad...because it's a gambling town to begin with and these are gambling times. Oh...and did I mention that you'll be alone? That may be a good thing...because you won't be taking anybody down with you. Oh...and all that masterful working & going to school full-time for the past twelve years or so...doesn't mean diddly doo doo. In fact, it probably hurt you because instead of being loyal to a company that you enjoyed working with, you probably should have moved on a while ago. Nice tie, by the way. Where did you get that? China? You went to China? How was that?

After thanking them for their time and advice, I drove home in a fairly cheerful mood. I had gotten this interview out of the way...and it can only help me now in my search. They'll send information to my managers and myself in the next week...and we'll come up with a strategy or something to get me where I need to go. Awesome. So I get home, send a few text messages to concerned parties, take off my suit, sit down on my bed, and basically break down for about five to ten minutes in mild teary-eyed frustration wondering "What the hell have I done with my life? What could I have done better? What can I do in the future that's feasible? Who the hell are they to tell me to start over? Why does this always happen? What HAVE I been doing the past two years since graduation? Or for that matter the last decade? Nothing? Who gives a sh*t? Has all my work been for nothing? Do I know my sh*t? Why do I feel so alone? What the hell is wrong with me? Why does God hate me? Wah wah wah..." Yeah, it got a little dramatic & ridiculous there at the end. When I have a little manly breakdown though, there's a few key things to remember that help me work it out:

• Make it quick and painful - Like taking off a band-aid. Get it all out. Cry like a little whipped girly puppy, get that horrible feeling in your throat where you cry and it feels like it's expanding like a bullfrog or something, the fact that I was in my underwear during broad daylight left me feeling especially vulnerable...but it helped get it all out. Picture that one for minute, ladies.


• Don't drink - It'll only make it worse...and you'll spend the next day vomiting...and that's one of my least favorite things. It's up there with girls crying and blunt object to the groin.


• Don't break stuff - It'll only piss you off the next day...and the cops stay out of it because the neighbors won't hear you and call it in. Talking to a cop while angry is a great way to meet new friends and have sex with them...but not the kind you want.


• Talk to a buddy - Via text, phone, email, whatever...it usually helps to let a good friend or family member know what's on your mind and what you're frustrated about. They do a good job of keeping it in perspective (because they're not directly in it) and helping you out. You know the people that you want to talk to...and whether you want to do it by text or whatever. Note: Talking to your mom will either enrage you beyond what you thought you were capable of...or cause you to continue crying like a whipped puppy for hours. It's just what they do. Fathers not so much...but hopefully you all have good friends out there to talk to.


• Learn from it - What does this REALLY mean? How can you make it better? Can you make it better? How can you grow from this as a person? What's the moral of the story? What's for dinner?


• Move on - Might I suggest inviting a few people over for a Rock Band party? That's what I did and it worked splendidly. Oh...and if you have a girlfriend/boyfriend, I remember hours of fantastic sex working wonders for my self-esteem after these breakdowns.


• For God's sake, don't tell anybody else about it!!! - Okay, so I dropped the ball on this one...but hopefully my stupidity helps you out. Yeah, I have a reputation to uphold as that Greek God of a man chiseled out of marble and carrying a mighty trident...but I'm still a tough guy with an imposing figure...and yeah, I have my moments. We all do...or we go postal.
  
  

So, long stupid story short, nothing has really changed except that I got certified as a manager. I just had a little fit where all the frustration of the last six months of trying to do something with my life just kind of culminated and I had a Gloomy Gus Day that I guess only lasted a few minutes...but still, now I just have to open my eyes and look for what I'm going to do with my future. Maybe I need to look at a few different cities with a little more stability. Already done San Diego and New Orleans, so maybe Denver a little more...or Northern California...or Rio de Janeiro. Any suggestions? I don't really want to go back to school...at all...but I guess if you're not moving forward, you're falling behind...which pisses me off to no end because school is really f**king pointless and really f**king expensive...especially since I'll probably be taking that paycut. Oh well, positive attitude brings positive results, right? Onward and upward!!!

So yeah, Filly stopped by shortly after and we talked about this and that. She's twitterpated and going to New Orleans for Halloween (which I'll probably go too, if possible) so I basically just sat back and listened...adding funny comments here & there and words of advice...you know, the usual. (Sh*t, maybe I should just go into psychiatry. Plenty of possibly-crazy people looking for somebody to talk to out there, that's job security. The question is...can they afford me in these times? Do I really need a degree though? Some of the craziest people I know have degrees in Psychology...like my Aunt Pat) Sorry, tangent thought again. So yeah, she paid me with a Carne Asada Burrito...and JL Clyde showed up later and we played Rock Band...and had Coke Slurpees with Appleton Estate Jamaican Rum, which were non-surprisingly delicious.

Then we watched one of the silliest horror movies of the 90's "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" but the one with Renee Zellweger (right after "Jerry Maguire") and Matthew McConaughey (right after "Dazed & Confused") and it's just ridiculous. I had seen it once before...but basically, it's Prom Night in Texas and two couples drive off into the wilderness (never explained exactly why other than they let an angry woman drive). That being said, they get into a wreck and the driver in the other car is hurt pretty bad...so they go to get help. Then the craziness ensues. I don't want to spoil anything...but yeah, Leatherface is there with a chainsaw, there's a real estate agent with rockin' tatas that likes to flash the locals, McConaughey has a remote control robotic leg...and is a pretty convincing crazy, and it's just wild & kooky...to the point of pure enjoyment...for a horror movie. I say check it out...but yeah, don't try to look at it logically or anything. It'll only piss you off.

Anyway, that'll do it for today. Sorry for my rambling about being a wuss...but hopefully it helps out for your future meltdowns to know that everybody does it, they just handle it differently. Thanks to everybody out there for listening to me over the course of the evening (Mom, Bubbles, Filly, JL Clyde, Amelia, Lilie, etc.) and don't feel bad if I didn't talk to you about it (Mrs Wingman) because I just got more frustrated the more time that I had to retell it (especially after talking to my mom). See? Even I don't follow my own advice sometimes. Have a great night everybody!!!