Under the table and dreamning

As a child, the holidays were a pretty big deal. My Mom's parents lived far away, like 8 hours, so a day trip over the river and though the woods to Grandmother's house was pretty much out of the question. But, my Pop's folks, well, my Grandma, lived just a few miles away, one town over from us. JACKPOT! For the major holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and sometimes Easter, we would pack up the Gran Torino, the same car Starsky and Hutch drove, but with a different paint job, and spend the day, into the evening at Gramma D's house. It was always a joyous occasion for us kids. You see, when you are a kid, as we all can remember, your only responsibility was to be in the car when it was driving away. We didn't have cell phones, or Ipods to bring. This was before the times of Nintendo DS, and DVDs. We just had our imagination to keep us occupied throughout the day.


We would pack up the car early. Early enough to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade in its entirety at Gramma's house. The day would be filled with the sounds and smells of Thanksgiving. The sound of my Mom's high heels on the floor, though I can never remember her having, let alone wearing high heels, I sure do remember hearing them on the hardwood floors. The sound of beer cans opening, don't judge, and the sound of a Zippo being lit...again, it was the 70's. I can remember the sound of the electric mixer, a sure sign that dinner will soon be served, it was potato mashing time!! There was also some swearing, as Pop was and is a Lions fan, and they would be beaten on a regular basis on Thanksgiving. Corn never tasted so good...and the gravy, well, don't get me started. It was a cornucopia of great smells....turkey, rolls, pie, green bean casserole. So many good smells.

There was lots of eating, and drinking and football watching. Naps were had by all. Then later on, more eating of leftovers. Turkey sandwich anyone?? YES PLEASE! One of the highlights for me was, after dinner, the kids....me, my brother and sister, and my 2 cousins would crawl under the big dining room table and just play. we would bring our cars, or the cars that were left at Gramma D's house and play. Sometimes we would pretend we were in jail, or stuck on an island, note to self, sue ABC for stealing my idea for LOST, or in outer space or whatever. It was the best!! It seemed to go on for hours, heck, maybe it did. I think that was for me, the best part of the holidays.

Now, when it's the holidays, after dinner is done and the dishes are done(I pitch in) I will go and hide my niece's Nintendo DS, sorry "DS-I Uncle Brian!!" she reminds me, and I hang out under the table. For a while, it's just me, and I kinda, sorta like that. But then after a little bit I'm greeted with "what are you doing under there??" Sometimes I say I lost something, sometimes I say I'm being punished, both of which, my nieces know could have happened. They will ask if I need help looking, or escaping. Yes, I do!! Then after we look and can't find, or try to escape and can't, the under of the table is filled with toys. Dolls, yes, I play with dolls, so?? Or balls, especially if my Nephew is involved. We will roll the balls back and forth. One time we named all of the plastic horses she got for Christmas. That was fun. That was a few years ago...she STILL remembers the names, I don't, but I act like I do. We have had some great talks under there. I have them all but convinced that what I do for a job is a Pirate....I mean, why else would I have a beard?? Yes, I have a pirate uniform, and No, you can not see it, its at the Pirate Cleaners, I got food on it at work. For now, they still believe me.

It's still a lot of fun to play under the table. The getting under and getting back out isn't as easy as it once was...I think they are making tables a lot smaller now, I'm pretty sure thats it. But rest assured that I will be under the table, and not from drinking, again this Thanksgiving or Christmas. I have to, it's for the kids....you believe me, right??

my impact.....

im starting to realize that what i do, how i do it, who i am is having an impact on the people and things around me. I think I've always known it, but now its being in the front of my mind, in front of my face...

I have lots of thoughts on this floating around my head...flying, not floating. This may keep me up tonight...but before I post more, I will have to sleep on this. Think on this...or as Michael Scott said, chew on this and see what comes out the other end....

expectations, of me, you, the universe
respect, me, you universe
living a thankful, gracious life
appreciation
trying to understand, but knowing i never will fully understand


too heavy for me this late at night...sleep calls, ill drift away, and revisit this tomorrow...

time....an apology

I have no concept of time anymore. I used to, when I was in college. I had a set schedule of classes. I had to be at a certain place on a certain day at a certain time. That made things easy. Then when I graduated things changed. Long days were hard at first. Working, standing for 12 hours at a time can take its toll on you. Physically, emotionally. I was beat, battered. This is when I started to not be able to sleep, well, at least like i USED to be able to sleep. After a 12 + hour day at work I would go home, and eat, late. I would stay up late, not by choice mind you, but because I couldn't sleep. I would lay in bed for a while, staring, tossing, not sleeping. Then I would get out of bed, look for the NyQuil and have that kind of sleep. Not restful at all. Almost like labored sleep. I would sometimes feel more tired after I woke up. Those were some good times. Other times when sleep escaped me, I would get up and watch TV. I watched the church channel, I could recognize all of the tele-evangelist. It was pretty scary. I would watch Arena Football, GO IOWA BARNSTORMERS!! Repeats of Infomercials. I would have to be at work at 9am, I would not be able to sleep till 4am, 3am if i was lucky. Then, Id get up, go to work for 12 more hours and then the same thing would happen again, rinse and repeat. It was not fun, not good. At one point I strung together 17 days in a row. 12 hours a day for 17 days in a row. Only sleeping 5 hours a night. Maximum. I have to honestly say, I don't know how I did it. Thinking back, I remembered the first 4 or 5 days, parts of days 6 thru 10, and after that...well...Im embarrassed to say, I didn't recall, wasn't sure what I did. I'm sure no one was harmed by my lack of sleep...well, I'm not really sure.

My life seemed like one of those videos where the world moved around me at a super fast pace and I was in slow motion. I was a walking zombie, minus the brain eating. Not good, not healthy for me, or the people I was taking care of.

But I figured it out. I was never one of those people who were upset that they couldn't sleep. Even now, I think I sleep maybe 5-6 hours a night, and its OK...its good. I sorta look at it like I get extra time now.

The last 3 weeks though, have been rough. My boss, who I love, just had a baby. Her fourth baby. Her fourth girl. 3 weeks early. So, I was able to, well I guess I had to work a little extra. By a little extra, I mean about 60 hours a week, for the last 3 weeks. In addition to that, I had 2 DJ gigs....yes....I DJ....and that's super stressful for me. I worry that Ill just suck or just maybe ruin someones wedding, no big deal, right?? So....let's do the math shall we...
60hrs a week x 3 weeks + 2 DJ gigs + 5 hrs sleep = a bad thing.

I've been unavailable...as a person...except at work. I'm able to put all my "personal eggs", no jokes please, in my work basket. That's just how it is, how it has to be. In real life, every few months or so, I'll sleep. For maybe 8-10-12 hours one night. That will recharge my batteries. It works for me. But for now, right now, I wont get to do that, until Tuesday. So for now I just want to say, need to say, I'm sorry. I'll be back in a day or two, and I'm sorry if I wasn't "around"...

I Like your beard-Ke$ha

One of my childhood dreams was to be able to grow facial hair. I wanted a beard. Remember those toys, the one in the picture over there<------- The Wooly Willy....I wanted that, to be able to, as a real person, grow a kick ass beard. I know it's sort of a lame goal, lame dream, but my pop had a beard, mustache, fu-man-chu, depending on the day, and I thought my pop was awesome. So I guess I wanted to be like him, like all little boys want to be like their dad.

As I got older, I still wanted a beard, but I wanted to be like G.I. Joe. And by older, I mean 5 or 6. He was, still is a badass. The ironic thing is that I am kinda girly, I would rather hang out with women, just more comfortable. One time my mom caught me, stopped me from trying to cut my face. I wanted a scar like GI Joe. I was going to cut my face with one of those plastic, picnic knives. I wouldn't have done any damage, but it kinda freaked out my mom, she didn't get it.

So as I really got older, ie puberty, I was ready for some hardcore whiskers. I was ready for that thicket to sprout on my face and to show everyone how manly I really was. Knowing that I was pretty far from that. It never came. I thought I was doomed to be a (facial) hairless freak. Well, truth be told the only place I ever really had any hair was on my head, oh and eyebrows too, does that count?? It turns out I had a strange medical condition, the details of which I won't bore you with here, that sorta hindered my facial hair growth. So finally, thanks to better living through chemistry I was able to grow facial hair. I would do the "just beard" on my chin, the soul patch, the goatee. Any kind or incarnation of facial hair, good and bad, I had on my face one time or another. I did the fu-man-chu, which is the facial hair equivalent to the mullet, right??

So I finally get my dream job, and there is a "no full beard" rule. I guess the way it is worded in the handbook is more like the facial hair can NOT be connected to the hair on the head. Wait, that's lame, sorry, but it is. But, I got the ok from the boss that if I kept it neat and trimmed I could grow a full beard. Cool. But what I actually did was use that as an excuse for why I didnt shave. If I didnt shave, you can be assured that my boss would mention it in his own nice way....dull razor?? stand too far away from the razor, stuff like that. I would play the "I'm Growing a Beard" card, then promptly shave the following day. He got wise to my ways, and said, finally, either grow a beard or shave, no more of this bullshit. Harsh. So I set out to grow a beard. And I did. It turned out pretty good, I might add.

I had a beard, longish hair, I was living the dream. I liked the way it looked. I even went so far as to post a pic on facebook of my bushy mug and flop head( that's what my brother calls me). It didnt get rave reviews. Some of the words bandied about were "homeless", "Hobo", "meth-head", and "scary". That's so not fair, I mean, have you ever seen a tweaker that had a great looking head of hair like that?? NO WAY! Then other people at work were concerned. No, mad is the word. " Why does Brian get to have a beard and I can't??" Thanks alot, big babies. So, I cut my hair, and trimmed my beard.

Still people got mad because I was allowed and they were not. Hello....people... Do you cry foul when I come in early and stay later?? No. Are you concerned when I do the job, your job because you cant seem to figure it out?? No. So, who do you call, sometimes at home, when you can't figure out how to do "fill in the blank"?? ME. I sorta feel like maybe, just maybe, this beard is my little bonus for going above and beyond.

I got things cleaned up, thats fine. Here is the thing, why does my having a beard affect you or your happiness in any way, shape or form?? It shouldn't and it doesn't. Why can't you just be happy with what you have and not try to have what I do?? Am I getting special treatment?? Yes! Why do I get it and you don't?? I don't know. How does that old saying go, the beard is always fuller on the....no...that's not it....

Honestly, I'm thinking about cutting it off anyways. Before I cleaned up the hair and trimmed the beard, the worst thing I was called the "the New Unibomber". But since I got it cut, someone asked me if i was trying to be a hipster.... a hipster....where did I leave my razor???

Why I Still go to church.....

Every Sunday I go to church, alone. The same church I went to growing up. Let's start this way, with a definition of church...on second thought, let's not. I was raised catholic, and I still practice, kinda. I'm not sure if there is such a thing as a checklist to determine if I'm actually "catholic", but if there was, I'm not sure I'd qualify. The way I understand this, and if I'm wrong, please tell me, is that you are supposed to follow ALL of the teachings of the church and believe all the the beliefs. Well, i don't do that. I mean heck, I'm pro-choice, and i think that's a deal breaker.

As I became adult, the reasons I went to church changed. As a child, I went because I was told i had to. Plain and simple. that went on all through my life at home. When i was able to drive I still went to "church" but that involved meeting friends, usually girls(I have more girl friends than guy friends, I just do, always had) and we would go get ice cream or lunch, and go back to church and hang out until mass was over, then we went home. that's ok, right? Then in college, I still went, but not on a regular basis. After college, church became a time to reflect, I did a lot of thinking in church, my best work. I didn't really pay attention to what was going on, but I did get a lot out of my time there. Then my mom got sick, then better, then sick again, then she died. I have a friend who is a priest and when my mom was first sick, i talked to him. Well, honestly, I listened to him. I was in no shape for talking. I was doing lots of crying, I was scared, for mom, pops, me, my siblings. So he called me, I answered, he talked and I cried. He told me in his way, that she'd be ok. She did recover, my family got closer.

Then mom died, and I had a real problem with it. I was mad....at God. I think. I saw a lot of less worthy people, not as nice as my mom, not as good a person as my mom, who seemed to skate through life. Why did they get to live and not my mom?? Judgey, I know. I spent a lot of time alone, reflecting on this and why. My faith, whatever, helped me through this. It was a long and hard process but i got through it and came out a better man, at least i think i did. I was told by my friends that if that happened to them they would never go to church again. Really?? How do you know?? I hasn't happened to you. Don't presume to know how you'd react. Now, I wasn't mad, I understand they were trying to make me feel better, and i appreciated the gesture, however misguided.

My friends go to church because they have kids and they feel like they have to. I get that, I do. But here is why I go to church. I see some of my mom's old friends, and they always say hello to me, they tell me my mom would be proud of the man I became. I need that sometimes. I see my old school teachers, from grade school and high school. They ask how I am, I ask how they are. I see Miss Batty. She was the librarian when i was in grade school. I was a latch-key kid, and spent lots of time at the library. As she walks back from communion, she always stops by my pew and grabs both of my hands in her hands. See, I sit a few rows ahead of her, and we are too far away to shake hands. When mass is over, we walk out together, our arms locked as we walk and talk. Today she asked me if i remember the time she came up behind me and started to rub my shoulders and I yelled "MOLESTER!! MOLESTER!!!" at the top of my lungs. She and to put her hand over my mouth because the police station was in the same building as the library. I do remember that. We both laugh.

I don't agree with everything the church says. I'm way more liberal. I know that according to the church, that's not right. I know that church points me in the right direction, helps keep me honest, its my moral compass. It's easy for me to say, its too early, too late, too hot, too cold to go to church. But I drag my sorry ass out of bed, to try to become a better Brian. I fail. But, to borrow a line, I get up and do it again, Amen.

dream jobs...how to know if you already have yours....

The first thing I did when I sat down in the car was turn on the radio. I was a little stressed, well, maybe not stressed, but I was tired. It was a nice fall evening...it was after midnight, so I guess it wasn't evening anymore, it was one of those late nights/early mornings where the windows fogged up just by sitting in the car and breathing. Truth be told, I was sorta glad I would have to wait to drive until the windows unfogged, is that really a word even, that way I could take a listen to what was on the radio. You see, I'm a music junkie...I'm a freak about it. I like almost any kind of music...I always thought if i didn't do what i do now for a living, I would do something that had to do with music. Maybe in the industry, or promotion, or heck, I'd even work in a record store....what...you don't know what a record store is?? oh....boy.....

So, maybe you don't know this about me, but in the past few years, I started to DJ. It started innocently enough, making mix tapes, errrr CDs for friends, and then making CDs for parties. I found a refurbished CD mixing board on eBay for pretty cheap. Bid, won! Then I hooked it up to an old home stereo receiver and a set of really crappy speakers and I would have dance parties in my basement....it was AWESOME!! I mean, I was the only person there, but it was pretty great....at least I thought so...from there I started to DJ, with pretty good reviews I must add, house parties. I had more fun, and to be honest, it got me out of the stupid party chit-chat, which I'm not too keen on, not really good at. So instead of that stuff, I got to hide behind my DJ table and do something I love to do and I'm marginally good at, which is play music.

Then, one spring i got the call...my first real paying DJ gig...it was at a Jr High-school...they couldn't afford a "real DJ" i was told. What...hello....what am I?? But for a 1/3 of the price of a real DJ, I took the gig! They even had posters with me on it...they said "Music by A DJ". I didn't have a DJ name, so I guess A DJ is a pretty cool name....haha...not really,but you know. From there I got other gigs, school dances, house party, fund raiser. It's not like the jobs were rolling in, but I made enough money to buy some really good equipment.

This night, the night of this blog, was my first wedding gig. I have to admit, i was one of the most nervous people at this function. It was an outdoor wedding, it was super windy, it was a little chilly, it was scary. I didn't get the song list until about 4 days before the wedding. By that I mean, I had not a clue what any of the songs were(first dance, intro, father/daughter dance, ect.) until 4 days before the wedding was going down. Short notice, ya think?? But I got that done, and it was all good....3 copies, on 3 different CDs of all of those songs, and 1 digital copy of all those songs too(backup, backup and backup). I'd like to say things went off without a hitch, but I don't want to lie. I will say this, I was a hit with the under 12 crowd. It is truly amazing what a little Miley Cyrus will do to your cred with the little ones, especially if you announce their names before said Miley song. The dance floor was filled the whole night. Not just because of me, but because of the alcohol, the lack of light, and the age of the party goers. Some of it was me, but it was a small part, but I'm happy with that.

The part about being a DJ that you don't ever think about is how the music gets there. Yes, I have to load, unload,reload and re-unload all of my equipment. That's the only part that sucks...well that and having to deal with people who have been over served and have no problem telling you how much you suck...alot....over 10 times at one gig....but I digress... As I broke down my stuff, I heard lots of comments. I was told I was awesome, great, the greatest(not true, but thanks) , that I was old. I'm not sure if the age comment was an implication on my DJing abilities, but it was made by an extremely drunken 18 year old...which makes it funny...
The rommie helped, it was great to not be alone all night, and to not have to do all the lifting myself. The gear was loaded, the roomie took off, separate cars, and i went back to the backyard to take a quick sweep to make sure I didn't forget anything. I ran into the mother of the bride, the person who actually hired me, who paid me. I thanked her, and I told her I had a blast, and I hoped everyone else did too. She said I was awesome, I did more than she expected. I was happy, she was happy. It was a good night.

It never gets old to hear you're good. It never gets old to hear someone likes what you do. It's always nice to hear when someone appreciates what you do. I've been told I'm the worst DJ, I've been told I'm the best DJ. I do not believe I'm either. I'm pretty sure I'm somewhere in-between. I've been told at a funeral how good I am at this. I've been told at a gig I should never do this again. I do not think I'm the best ever. I do think I'm the best to some people. I don't think I suck, but I am afraid I may suck.

When this night started, I was adding up the cost of my gear, to see if I was able to quit doing this and not lose money. If I never did this again, would I be able to break even? At the end of the night, as I sat in my car, tired from the stress of the day, from the loading and unloading and reloading , I was thinking of ways I could do this better. As the windows cleared, so did my head. I sat in the car, waiting for the windows to be clear doing research for the next gig.

Wear your heart on your....thumb?? or how I realized I'm blessed...

If I look at my thumb today, nearly a week later, I can still see the ever so faint big ass smiley face on my thumb nail. Well, ok, I can't really see it...its been a week, but honestly, i can still kinda see it. On Monday I was lucky, so lucky, to host a house concert. The 2 singers that came to my house to play were Alexa Wilkinson and Lelia Broussard....MY HOUSE DUDE!!! I was sorta on my own, it was the roomies first day back to school, so she wasnt able to be there that day to help. No worries though, we spent alot of Sunday doing the stuff you must do to prepare for a house concert, which as it turns out is alot of the stuff you do anyways....cleaning up and stuff like that. It was a potluck, I was providing pulled pork(delish, thanks E) and hotdogs, and drinks. I spent the day monday, cleaning and getting the food ready. I was pretty nervous. I had to provide a certain amount of money for the girls and I wasn't sure I'd get enough people here to cover that cost. And honestly i wasn't sure my friends would be appropriate to the artists. I was sure some of them would, but a few, I was worried about. I was also worried that I would not be a good enough host to the artists...yeah, I know.

Fast-forward to that night, the roomie was late, my besties had to drop off the kids and it was starting to get to me. I called Dave, he showed fast, I relaxed a little. That was good. Then my friends started to show, and then the girls showed up and I was in host mode. I have to say, I'm not good at that, at being a host. I went out to help the girls carry in the instruments and introduce myself(see the host obligations). We talked, they were very nice. They had a hotel in Rockford that night, a show in Indy the next day...I know, i don't get it either, so I told them they were welcomed to stay here. Also, I'm not sure how it came up, but I also offered the use of my washer and dryer. They seemed very VERY excited about that, washer and dryer, who woulda thunk, but I guess that's life on the road.

So, I had asked Dave to be the money man. To pay the singers, I was charging $10. That's a deal, I mean, think about if you are going to a concert, how much you'd pay. Not to mention i had the food, and the drinks. All I was asking was $10 and a dish to share. Pretty fair, more than fair I had been told. But, Dave was collecting the money for me, so I could do host stuff. He is good at that stuff, and good for me, good to me. When it was time for the music to start, Dave was the one who got everyone, except a few, to shut up. (S took care of the rest of the talkers).

The music started and I was a ball of nerves again. I was pacing and it wasn't good. As the first song ended, I was out of the room, beer fridge, and I heard something...something that made my heart swell. My friends clapped and cheered so loud!! the funny thing is that i was worried, so worried about that. My friends didn't disappoint. It was like that all night long. Cheering and clapping, i was touched. Lelia and Alexa were touched. I mean I think i was the only person there who was familiar with their work. But my friends clapped after each and every song as if it was their favorite song.

The night went on, the show ended. Most of the people left, and the ones who I had hoped would stay stayed and we all hung out. We ate food(still lots of hotdogs left) drank beer and whiskey and talked and talked. They learned about us, we learned about them,. E and I were drawing our emotions on our thumbs, and a few others joined in. We took our picture, and ill never forget.

The night was great, and I learned things. Things I won't share here, but in the generally speaking, the thing I walked away with was this. I am leading a blessed life. I am blessed with friends(family) who collect money for me, cheer loud when i need them to, pay more than i ask, support the high school band, support me, tell talkers to be quiet, respect me and my guests. They show me they care about me in ways I can't describe, but I will try. Thank you for coming to my party(on a Monday night), thanks for being a great audience to Lelia and Alexa, thanks for hugging me when you left, thanks for putting your arm around me when i looked stressed, thanks for driving far(in construction), thanks for drinking my beer, eating my food, holding my hand. I really wanted a few people to be there, and they were, and they sometimes read this, you know who you are, and thanks for being there....but you're always there...thanks for that too.

After the show, after the clean up, after the morning after, after Alexa and Lelia left, after the dust settled I sent an email to say thanks, and I heard back with an email thanking me...it was funny, but I thought why thank me. I felt great for a few days, riding the wave of an awesome night. I thought what was different about me, nothing really, then I realized, it wasn't what I got from that night that raised me up, it's what I always had, I just finally realized I had it.

Family Vacation....

Summer is coming to a screeching halt, and most family vacations are over, school is getting back in session(not for me tho) and that means things are back to normal...for most of us. I have no one in school and I really don't get a summer vacation. I guess that means I'm an adult...insert your own adult joke here.....

Growing up, we were sorta poor, not living in squallier but we sometimes depended on other people to get us groceries and stuff like that. it was always fun to play "dodge the collection agency" when they called, this was pre- caller ID you see. But I have to say we didn't have lots, but we had just enough, thanks to the kindness of other people on occasion.

My grandparents, lived in Wisconsin, way up north, and since we didn't have a lot of money, that was our yearly vacation destination. It was free, other than the cost of gas, and we didn't really have to pay for anything. They lived in a house in the woods. A short walk from a beach on Lake Michigan, and surrounded by nature. We spent our days chasing and catching frogs, helping grandpa, and i use that term loosely, in the garage, and in the yard, baking and cooking with grandma, and fishing and boating. It was really a great time, and at the time i knew it, and now that I'm older i REALLY know it...

One of the best, yes best, parts of the adventure, was the trip there. My pop worked midnights, so sometimes we would leave in the middle of the night. it was always a treat to do that. it was good for him, since we all slept on the way up there. but leaving in the middle of the night, packing the car in the dark always made me feel like i was doing something i shouldn't be. like we were fugitives, living that glamorous life. It was about 8 hours away, and if we left in the night, we slept and pop smoked the whole way up there, listening to AM radio.

You see, to make a trip that long there had to be preparations made. That usually entailed going to the Ben Franklin and buying comic books. That would be used to entertain me and my brother and sister for the long ride north. Also we would have to pack a bunch of food and snacks. dry roasted peanuts, hard candy, rice krispy treats...not alot of chocolate, since it would melt(no AC in the car). We would sometimes fill a cooler with pop and fried chicken and stop on the way up there for a little picnic. I never liked fried chicken, but I always liked the picnic. We would eat and then play Frisbee and stuff like that.

On the day of the trip, we would all pack into the car, mom, pop, and the dog, Windy in the front, and my brother, sister and i in the back. it was cramped, hot and we fought. but it was fun. The great thing about the trip was that my sister didnt like being touched, at all. So we would smash into the car, without AC, and drive windows down in the Midwest heat and humidity trying to NOT touch my sister. But you know, it would happen, our legs would touch, she would punch me, our arms would touch, she would punch me....rinse and repeat....this would happen over and over. The comic books were actually dual purpose, she would use them to "protect" herself from the touching. Imagine if you would, 90 + degrees, 90 + humidity with comic books pressed to and sticking to your legs. My sister would rather have that dumb comic book stick to her than be touched my me...it was truly truly funny. I honestly dont know how my parents put up with us.

We would finally arrive there and then the fun would start. We would spend 1 or 2 glorious weeks in the Wisconsin woods doing all the stuff we could do at home, but just didn't. It was the best. We acutally spent time with the family and laughed all the time. We played games, made up characters made up stories. I think this is were I learned the importance of family, the place where I started to understand.

After I was married and was in college, my grandparents moved and tried to sell the property. It was on the market for a long time. It was finally sold, and I felt like a family member had died sorta. I would never be able to go there, well at least not in the capacity that i had in the past. The people who bought it said we could visit, the actually said they would like to meet us and hear our stories. My folks went up, but no one else. It would not have been the same, and i wanted to keep that part the same, forever.

After the vacation was over, we were ready to go home, there is no place like home you know. so we packed up the car again, and had a bag of NEW snacks for the ride home. We were instructed to not open the bag for 30 minutes. we drove out of the woods, back to civilization, and after about 5 minutes asked pop....has it been 30 minutes yet?? No, not yet....5 minutes later, has it been 3o minutes yet?? no, still not....3 minutes later....30 minutes?? NO....2 minutes later...30 minutes yet..... long pause.....yes...it has been 30 minutes....no wonder why time goes so fast now...

Why I Love Night Baseball....A blog for my father...

Growing up, my Pop worked midnights, or the over-night shift. That meant a few things for me at my house growing up. Since he worked at night, he got home in the morning. in the summer when we were not in school, that meant being quiet during the day. Pops would sleep while us and the rest of the world...eeerrr....house at least was up and awake. This was not a big deal, because as kids, we would be outside playing baseball, wiffleball, or any sports of all sorts. If we were not outside playing we were sitting in front of the TV watching the Cubs.

During the summer, we didn't really have a set bedtime, but when it got closer to the time of the year when school would start, we would have to go to bed at an earlier time....a more "normal, school night " time.
We didn't have AC growing up, we didn't have a lot of things...we had all we needed and some of what we wanted. Since there was no AC, we had window fans. My bedroom shared a wall with my folks room, which means that we had windows very close to each other. Since Pop worked nights, he would get up shortly after we went to bed. As he was getting ready for work, he would have on the radio, WGN to be precise, and in the summer, when the Cubs would be on the west coast, the games would be on as he was getting ready for work. His window would be opened, my window would be opened, and we would listen to the games.....together, but not really.

As I got older, I still loved to listen to the west coast games at night, in my bedroom with my windows opened. It was sometimes hot, sometimes humid, but always a good time. I don't remember if the Cubs won or not, but it didn't really matter. It was always a good game, a good time. It was something that made me think of my pops.

A few years ago my Mom got sick and was in the hospital in Peoria for a while. Whenever I had a chance, Id go there and usually drive back when it was night time and listening to the Cubs games helped me get through those hard times.

Even now, I will on occasion, go to my pops to watch a night game. If i don't watch the the game, I will without fail, have the cubs game on my radio, with the windows opened, listening, and remembering.....and smiling.

Gimme a beat!!

I love music....all kinds of music....its my passion. I don't really play an instrument, not that I haven't tried though. I played the guitar in the 7th grade and I was OK, not great, but good. I was too cool, thought if I got a good guitar, it would play itself. I was too cool to practice...So I was marginal at best, and then it just kinda fell by the wayside...

But that didn't stop my love for music. I would sign up for Columbia House and BMG music clubs, multiple times. I would use different names, get my 13 cassettes for a penny, then quit and then rejoin. It was not really the way it was supposed to be done, but it would feed my new music jones.

So after alot of soul searching, and playing various "air instruments" I thought I was best at the drums, the air drums. I was killer on the steering wheel drum. I'd drum on my steering wheel, and I would even use the little tree air freshener as a cymbal, I was hardcore. Once while shopping with my girlfriend at the time, she went in and I stayed in the car. I was listening a tape, and I was drumming along to the song(if it matters, it was More than This by Roxy Music, still a good tune, it stands up) and in front of the GF in line was a mom and daughter, in her 20's, and the daughter pointed out to the mom, look at that guy out there, he's cute. That made me and the GF smile. But to be honest, I was a little disappointed she didn't notice just how good I was, but I'll take cute anytime....ANYTIME.

Fast Forward to now a days....I'm watching the movie The Visitor. It's a good film...sad and happy at the same time, but part of the plot, and I wont give too much away, is one of the characters plays a djembe(pronounced 'JEM-bay'). That is an African hand drum. It catches my attention. I think I want to play that drum. So I do a little research and I find out that there is a dude, in the town I live, the middle of freakin' no where who teaches this drum. Someone in my town teaches djembe. What are the chances?? So I make a call, or 2 and get set up for lessons. Cool, Im pumped. $15 for 30 minutes, not too steep.


I go to my first lesson. I discover a problem. I don't own a djembe, or any kind of drum for that matter. That's not really good, but as it turns out, it's not a problem. You see, my new teacher has some for sale and will let me use one for a while. Wow, it seems the universe WANTS me to play the djembe too. My new teacher asks me if I have any experience with music. I tell him about the guitar. Good he says, so you can read music?? Yeah, sorta, I say. He then asks, any drumming experience. Sooooooooo, I think, do I tell him about my mad skills at "air drumming"? I think better and that's a good thing. So we get into things and the 1/2 hour goes by so fast. After that first lesson, its clear to me, I suck. And it's clear to my teacher I suck too. He is nice about it at least, and my fragile psyche is grateful he is gentle about it.

A few more weeks and a few more lessons, and I'm still sucking...hard. I thought, just like I thought about the guitar, this would be easy-ish. I mean, I'm a decent dancer, I have rhythm, and I'm crazy good at the "air drums" and I'm decent, no, I'm good at Rock Band drums on the Xbox, don't worry, I didn't tell my teacher that either....I'm starting to get discouraged. So I'm into this for a few weeks, a month or 2 maybe, and I try different drums, as if THAT'S the reason I'm so bad. Then, I try a new drum, its bigger, and taller, and I love it. I think I play better, but my teacher is still not too impressed, but as usual, he is very kind to me.

So, then I'm starting to think, this isn't for me, Im not good, no, I'm bad at this, and its just costing me money and money, and I'm not getting any better. I start to avoid my lesson, cancel, via answering machine, weak, I know. Then my teacher is sick, cancel, sweet! He has a death in the family, another missed lesson, and I feel ok about it. I decide that I need to consider quitting, just consider it. I like to drum. I drum at home along with music, I think I'm Ok at it. But the lessons, I'm holding my hands wrong, I'm not striking the head correctly. I'm using the wrong hands for the notes... It's alot harder than I thought it would be, and I'm not one of those guys who bail when things get hard, I'm not, but now, this time, I'm thinking about it. My hands just cant do it, I cant do it.

Today, lesson, can't get out of it. I go. We talk a little, and it's ok. I don't remember all the rhythms by name, but after he plays it, I pick up quickly. Today we try something different. I play the rhythm, and he fills in, or plays the second part, or plays the solo. In the past we would just play the same thing because it's easier, you don't get distracted by someone playing a different part. But today, for me, it's different. I play my part, and he plays his part, and it is AWESOME. For the first time, since I started lessons, I feel like I can call myself a drummer. It's great, I have fun, and it's like WOW! It's not perfect, but its like we are really, finally, playing together, and it sounds good!

Lesson over, and my teacher tells me, for the first time, good job. He says that sounded good today. I'm stoked!! I had the hugest grin on my face. I was like a little kid...I walk out of my lesson and I feel happy. Such a little thing, but it made my day, my week(check back later to see). I realized today what I need to do to get my hands to do what they are supposed to do. I need to not play with my head, not with my hands, but with my heart.

15,000 and counting....

Unlimited....Thats what i signed up for, unlimited texting and....AND unlimited data. On my cell phone plan i have multiple phones, multiple users and I didn't want to be one of those people who end up on Dr. Phil with a $5600 cell phone bill saying "I don't know how this happened??"

I have an iphone, Iphone 4 to be exact, thank you very much. I'm not a fancy boy by any means, well....maybe I am, but anyways...but this is my 3rd such phone, and i love them more and more...I started with the 2G, then 3Gs, and now 4. Just a little history lesson for you.

One day, I come home from work and I'm informed by "the accountant" that the new paperless cell phone bill arrived in my inbox. OK, that's good. IN ADDITION to that nugget of information, I'm also asked "do you know how many text messages you sent last month??" Oh boy, here we go again, pack the bags, we're going on a guilt trip. No, I sure don't, but I bet you do is my reply. "Yes, I do", I'm told, "do you want to know??" Not really I say. Well, guess what, I get to find out anyway. Before I am allowed to know, I ask, "did my texting make the bill go up?", it didn't by the way, you see, I'm UNLIMITED!!

15,000 + text messages....now my first impulse is no fucking way... I couldn't have. But, then after I think about it, it sending and RECEIVING, I come to the conclusion that its totally possible. In addition to the sheer number of texts, I was informed that if i was awake for 18 hours a day, that would equal to 1 text message every 2 minutes....Can I break that down for you please?? Thank you...that's means I would be awake for 18 hours, asleep for 6.....this is where it starts to break down....because I usually only sleep for 5 HOURS~~~ HA!! So if you RE-Do the math, its really not that bad...and then I think, I really need to up my game...

So the real question is this, why do I even need to know this information?? It has no impact on my life, well, I mean financially it doesn't, since I'm unlimited. And so now its like only one text sent or received every 2 minutes, even less impressive...sorta embarrassing.

They say, the experts that is, the first step is to admit you have a problem. I could justify my texting by saying that I'm just trying to get the most out of my money....take advantage of my UNLIMITED plan. Or maybe, maybe someone hacked my Iphone, and hijacked it and sent free texts...FREE on my phone....nah, nice try tho...or maybe someone sneaks into my house, tip-toes to the bedroom in the 5 or so hours I sleep at night, sneaks back OUT with my phone, and makes crazy unlimited texts from my phone, my actual phone, while I soundly sleep, dreaming of sugar plumbs and all that shit....now I feel violated!! But but, we all know that's not the case either. Here's the thing, most people don't like to admit when they have a problem, but not me, Ill admit when I have a problem, its not easy, but hey, I'll still do it....so here goes.... Hi, my name is Kevin, (you all say HI KEVIN) and I have a problem. Want to know what my problem is?? I sent/received 15,000 + texts last month, and after I break it down, its not cool, its actually embarrassing....EMBARRASSINGLY LOW!!!

IT'S ON AT&T, I AM GONNA RIDE YOU AROUND THE CELL NETWORK LIKE A CIRCUS SHOW PONY!!! SO GET READY TO DANCE!!!

just cuz i love my job...or something...

So, im off work, haning out at my other home, after a day of grass cutting beer drinking and general hanging out. i get a call from the boss, i dont answer of course. dude, its my day off....so then he calls back...uuugghhh....this is usually an indication of trouble, computer or otherwise, so i reluctantly answer...small talk, blah blah blah....and the question, finally...what do i know about ipads.....hhhuuuuhhhh??? my interest is peaked...in my head i think....best invention ever perhaps, i want one, i would marry one if it was legal....oh....that's not what you were asking....do i know where to get one?? for your daughters graduation, yes...i can find you one, no worries...you're in Iowa....geezz....is this some kind of test?? i hang up make a phone call, and i find one. call him back, he is happy, and wants me to help him set it up...sure....ok....i mean...ummm....yes...im all over it!
so then after a hard day of drug selling, i jump in the convertible, and drive over to his house...its hot, i have the top down, and the tunes cranked, it was jason mraz if that matters. im on the way over there with the work uniform on, shirt, tie, all that stuff, my point, i think i look pretty ok...and sunglasses....not those big Kanye West ones, but an old pair of RayBans, yep, its true what they say, that everything comes back into fashion, had those from back in the day.... anyways, looking good-check, feeling good -check, going to play with an ipad-check...its a good day....
so, stop sign, and then i take off, and as im driving im looking around and i see a young, attractive lady in a jeep look at me and smile....i nod thinking, i still got it, which makes me laugh, cuz im not sure i ever "had it" and if i did it was surely something you could cure with a few doses of penicillin....but she smiles i smile eye contact and its cool....get to the bosses house and im stoked...im going to spend a few hours with a new friend, the ipad...gonna set it up and stuff....ive been waiting to get my hands on an ipad for a while now....so i get there and its a cookout....what?? dude....i get introduced to ppl and im thinking, get out of my way please, im on the hunt for an ipad friends...yeah yeah, nice to meet you too and all that stuff....there it is....i sit down, and get to work....and its great....im trying to find a way that i can leave, take it with me....its beautiful....i want to hug it, never let it go....its like a huge super sized version of my iphone, and you know how i feel about Gidget....i have my head buried in the ipad....and the boss says, hey i want you to meet my daughter, and im thinking unless she has a 9.7-inch (diagonal) LED-backlit glossy widescreen Multi-Touch display with IPS technology then i dont really want to meet ya....but if im anything, its polite, so i stand up, stick out my hand say nice to meet ya, and i look up, and wouldnt ya know it, its the girl from the jeep earlier...we look at each other again and as the boss introduces us i say, hey, its you, and she says yeah, we smile again, and my boss says to his daughter, you know each other, and she says yeah dad, he asks how, and she says, dad, be quiet. it was pretty funny, and honestly a little uncomfortable...but that passed fast....a few hours later, im done, and i go, and she says, bye and thanks and all that stuff...the boss says, thanks, stay for some food/drink and i dont....
a few days later, he stops at work and says is daughter is really happy with what i did to her ipad, and i laugh cuz i think it sounds, well, inappropriate. he says that she wanted him to tell her that the things i did to her ipad were awesome, she had never seen anyone that good....i said thanks, and try not to laugh....he asks if its ok if he gives her my number, just in case she needs any ipad help........hee hee....

It's beginning to look alot like Christmas....in July??

The Sears WishBook....that's what it was called...well i assume that's what it is still called. I remember being a kid, and waiting patiently, well if my mom was still here, she would probably tell you it wasn't so patiently, but you know...i tried my best....a week or so before you could go to Sears to pick it up, you'd get a postcard telling you that one was reserved for you(SCORE!!) at the local store and you could pick it up after a certain date. Now i was not wise to the ways of the world back then, and maybe I'm still not right now, but i thought that we were actually CHOSEN to get the catalog, i thought it was a product of my being a good little boy all year....haha...like if that was the case, I'm sure id have no clue what that book was....so if memory serves, you could pick it up on a Saturday, and according to my dad, it was not able to be picked up until after church. that made sense to me, but like i said before, I wasn't as smart back then... So we would go to church, 430pm, i think it was the only time i actually looked forward to it as a child...then dad would drive, super slow it seemed, to Sears, and we would all wait in the car as mom would go in, and get the catalog....It was very exciting...before church i would be sure she didn't forget the post card, i mean without it, we wouldn't be able to get it....right?? so wed get the catalog and until Christmas, i would mark the stuff i wanted, check the pages, make a list with the page number and all that good stuff...and i would remind mom, don't forget to look at the list...the page numbers are there and everything...
that would happen every year, and even though we were not rich, i would get at least 1 thing from the catalog and it was a good year...a good Christmas...
even as i got older, i always liked, no loved Christmas. as i aged, it was for different reasons, it was for family, and it was always mom's fave time.... she was in her glory, giving gifts, and cooking and baking....she loved it...but then she died, and it was different. she passed away in November, and it was a really strange and hard holiday....thanksgiving...what do i have to be thankful for?? i was super bitter,mad, sad, worried about my pop. it was hard for him, really hard for him....for all of us, but mostly him. we would always get together on Christmas eve, as long as i could remember, at my grams house, then after she died, it would be at my folks house or uncle's...then when the kids(me included) were grown it would rotate to a different house, but it would always be Christmas eve night. the first Christmas without mom was at my house and the thing is we finished the basement just before. we started before mom died and she didn't want to see it until it was all done and the thing is, she never saw it, she died before it was finished. so that was sucky too...but anyways....
as time went on, our family Christmas eve changed....at first it was moved to an earlier time, then it was not even on Christmas eve anymore...it was a few weeks before or maybe even after....so it changed from a great family celebration to what i refer to as a "drive thru" Christmas...we would meet on a Saturday after noon, at maybe at 1 pm and be done by 3pm and home by 5pm...i got the feeling like why bother....this past year, some ppl didn't even show up, they were too busy...wow...it doesn't mean the same to them as it did to me that's for sure...
If you know me, at all, you know that i hold my friends close to my heart, they are very dear to me, and in some ways closer than my family. truth be told, i actually consider them my family too, but i don't want to say i love them more or better, but i think maybe i do...is that bad? the reason i told you that, is this, yesterday i spent the day with 2 of the newest members of my family. we met for brunch, drank too many bloody marys(with beers back, right S?), TRIED to take a nap and failed, met some great friends at a concert and shared the night and food and drinks and music with them...there were 5 of us, 2 couples and me, and i never felt like the 5th wheel....or i guess spare tire, right?? it was really hot and humid, it was super uncomfortable, and it was the best day ive had in a long time. at one point after we left our friends, the 3 of us just laughed and laughed in the car until our stomachs hurt. we talked about stuff, lots of stuff, the future, late nite trips to the pharmacy, a friend who we miss so much, what our next week has in store, when can we sneak our next diet coke, music, and so much more. we made plans....for us, for our friend, for our future, for our next adventure. then the night ended, and i was driving, and sadly texting, sorry, i know how you hate that, and i thought about Christmas....more specifically, Christmas eve, and i thought, i know what i want to do. i spent the day with the ppl i want to spend holidays with...i know, super presumptuous, like what if they don't want to spend it with me, or what if they have plans?? they have families too you know...yeah i know...but....maybe, just maybe....
so when Christmas comes again this year, ill think of my mom, and smile, and i think of the "toy book" as i called it and smile, and i may even take a look through the catalog, and look for something i want....you know what, i don't need to, i already got what i want...

let's play a game....

it's a game i don't like to play, i never play...well...i take that back, i DO play it, but in my head, alone without anyone to judge. i told one person about this game, and she was really understanding, she helped me. whats the game you ask?? its the game that i call "what if". it can be about anything, and how it goes is that its a game of what if's....for example, what if you were the president, how would you handle the big BP oil spill...or what if your friend committed insurance fraud, would you report him(for the record, i haven't...yet...another blog for another day...again). but im talking about the sub-set of the the "what if" game...and its the what if you and i were single....now, im not gonna lie, i have been known to play that game in my head...on occasion, and im thinking its sorta healthy....right J?? now this is the game i dont like to play...my normal response is that i dont know, im not single, and maybe neither are you...but anyways...its not really a road i want to travel....but....i had a "friend", a friend whom i have gotten pretty close to over the last few years....this friend has confided in me, things that only i know...things that are not shared with a sibling, or parent, things that if they were shared with family would probably...well...lets just say it would make for a really tense thanksgiving...pass the mashed potatoes indeed....ok...now here is the thing....so we are getting closer and i see my friend maybe on a weekly basis. so im privy to some pretty nasty stuff....how her spouse is mean to her, and in general not nice...oh and to complicate matters, im friends with said spouse. ...for the rest of this blog friend=M and spouse =C...ok?? ok...im back!!
so M has been having a rough go of it with C and is telling me about this...i think C is being a d-bag!! i really do....but i dont tell M that...im just here for support, right?? after a long few weeks for M, we meet and M says, can i ask you something....im like Sure, whats Up?? M says if we were both single....uuugghhh.....in my head......what do you think about.... im all like...about what??? M says you know...and M's right i do know, but i what to hear M ask it anyways, sorta dicky, i know...sorry....i act all dumb....and finally M says, what do you think about us??? i still act dumb, but M calls me on it, "do you just want to hear me say it??" M says....well yeah, actually, i do...im feeling a little under appreciated so i want to hear you're interested, at least if we are both single....does that make me a bad dude?? i think, do you really want to walk down this path, the answer by the way is NO....but, against my better judgment, i walk down there...with M....freaking holding hands(not literally) . i say, IF and its a big IF we were both single are you asking me if i think we'd date?? Yes, M says....ok...i think, in my head, whats the right answer?? cuz honestly, if M pulled up to my house on the right day(or do i mean wrong day), i would STRONGLY consider leaving all my stuff and my life and jumping in M's car....but i digress....i say, yeah, maybe....but i really think....DATE??? ummm...no, we'd totally get married....but no, i have to be cool...M says, i have kids, i say, cool...i dig kids....and this goes on....we come to the conclusion that if we are both single we should give it a go...and on occasion, when we see each other, and we are not with our "better halves" we make little comments, jokes about it...its all in good fun dear readers( all 2 of you)....at least i thought it was....until the other nite....i had to meet up with M, she had to return something that was borrowed, and we met and we talked a little and it was great, and when it was time to go, i didn't want to go...and i think...M didn't want to go...there was lots of hesitation, and lots of "hey what about" just to get to talk to each other more....and for the first time, i felt sad when we left each other....ok....well...not the first time...ive always felt something....a little something, but this is the first time i realized what it was....it was sadness...for the "what if's"....so we both turn to go our separate ways, and i did another thing i hate doing, i look back and M looks back and holds up her hand....not really a wave, but a thing we do when we see each other is hold up our hands and press them against each other, it our way of know we are there for each other....we just touch hands....so i look back and M looks back and holds up a hand, and far away, i do the same. and i wonder, and i feel bad for wondering, i wonder what if...

(some) dreams do come true....kinda....

it was hot, no AC in the school....but there i sat all day....just waiting for the last bell of the day to ring...as soon as the bell rang, id be gone, out the door, like a shot! you see, i had to get home cuz the Cubs were on WGN!! for as long as i can remember the (un)official start of my summer was when cubs baseball would start. i guess it was the start of BASEBALL in general, but i didnt care about anything but the cubs as far as baseball was concerned....when we picked our numbers for Little League, i always picked mine based upon which cubs was wearing what number. just for the record, my fave cub, and therefore my fave number was #10, ron santo. this dude should be in the hall of fame, for numerous reasons, but you know, thats a BIG BIG blog for a different day. so that being said, i think every, or at least most boys growing up wants to be a professional athlete...or at least will pretend as they are playing sand lot ball that they are Santo, or Ryno, or Gracie, or any number of cubs. so i played minor league, little league, and senior league, in that order, and it was pretty clear that i would never progress further than city leagues...i wasn't bad, i was pretty good, but i just wasn't THAT good....i pretty much gave up on one of my dreams....to cross the chalk and be on the grass at Wrigley field....for those of you who don't know, that's where the cubs play...the cubs...Chicago cubs?? the friendly confines?? you know that, right?? but its cool, cuz a few years ago i was able to procure seats in the front row, yep....up front....by the visitors bullpen. the thing was when i was there, i was able to lean over the wall and actually touch that dirt along the bullpen. that was enough for me...and if i really leaned i was able to touch the grass...until the usher kindly asked me not to....so there, i was"on the grass" at wrigley...sorta....
cut to 8 or so years ago, i had the great idea to get on the cubs season ticket waiting list...cool...i was a really high number, i dont even know what it was but it was up there....i had a friend who had a connection and he made a call, and i think i got moved pretty high on the list....when i ask him, he just smiles....so that's that....
this year i finally got the call....i was able to purchase cubs seasons tickets!! OMG....i was super pumped!! that was a dream of mine for a long time...but the thing is, i cant afford it alone and not to mention as far as i know, i still have to work.... it was prearranged that i would get a group of 10 ppl and we would each get 8 games( 4 tix per game) and we would split playoff tickets as well....thats funny....
last week, i got an email from the cubs. they are putting on the first Season ticket appreciation day. what this means is that me and i guest will have the chance to check out the press box, and the radio and TV booth, the batting arcade under the bleachers, walk all over the park...go into the cubs club house, and see the locker room....and if the weather is good, walk on the field....
the drive up was pretty rotten, i was supposed to be up at 6, but was late, got up when my buddy walked into my bedroom....it was raining the whole way up there....we finally get to the ball yard and they tell us that the field is too wet, we can only go on the perimeter, from dug out to dugout behind homeplate....thats good enough, i guess....well i go on my merry way, i was happy to be there, and after doing the tour they say we can go on the field....WHAT?!?!!?! ok...im super...i cant even say....i try not to run down the to the field. i walk on the field where the visitors bullpen is, the same place i was able to reach over the wall and touch the grass a few years before.
remember that scene from field of dreams?? when Moonlight Graham is batting and the little girl is choking on a hotdog?? and if he crosses the baseline, he will no longer be moonlight graham but Doc Graham?? do you remember that part?? thats sorta how i felt, but the opposite....if he came off the field, he would change, but for me if i went on the field, I would change....and it did...
now i know it sounds silly, i mean i was just walking on a baseball field...big deal, right? yeah, actually for me, it is a big deal...i stood in the spot that my baseball hero, ron santo stood. i played catch in on the same field that ryne sandberg played so many years for the cubs. i stood in the batters box, the actually spot where babe ruth made the famous "called shot"...my feet were in the same spot as his....same place as the babe!! it was great, a great day, we threw the ball around, and i have to say, it felt pretty darn good....fielded a few grounders and none, NOT ONE got by me....i still got it!! it was a great day and i was able to realize one of my dreams...and just between us, i think the cubs brass had an eye on me...as i left the stadium, the CEO of the Cubs, Tom Ricketts looked at me and gave me a nod, he saw, and he knows...im expecting a call any day now.... haha....

i dont have a great title for this one.....yet...but if i come up with one ill for sure change it...

Im not exactly sure how the night started...but i do remember trying NOT to touch her. i know what youre thinking, why not?? its true, i mean she was a beautiful woman, a little taller than i am, but she had heels on....which was sorta strange, but i did like the way it looked, and she smelled great, and well, you get the picture, right?? anyways, like i said i was doing my best to not touch her, but she had no issues touching me. at the beginning, she would catch my eye, or i guess we would catch each others eye...there was some small talk, where are you from, what do you like...odd, but no names where exchanged...and some smiling, lots of smiling, and the touching. as the night went on, i got more and more comfortable with the touching, like i said previously, she had no problem with it and i guess i figured it was something that was going to happen anyways...it started out very innocently, we were in a dark room, our arms brushing against each other, a hand on a shoulder, around a shoulder, arm around a waist. i remember her pushing her body against mine, i remember the resistance. the first few times she leaned against me i almost... heck , i moved out of the way, but this time it was different, i didn't move, i didn't flinch at all. ill admit it now, i actually moved into her. i wanted to feel the press of her against me...she tilted her head back and said "is this ok??"...i said "no worries"....what?? why did i say that?? that rushed through my mind...dumb, nice one....but she giggled and said into my ear"great"...whew....that was close...
the rest of the night was a blur, really it was...but i do remember at one point having my hand at the small of her back, why is it called that, small of the back, i dont get it.... but anyway having my hand there telling her "i got you" and she turned, and smiled, and leaned in and said in my ear "thanks...thank you". at one point in the night we we moving together, our bodies in a rhythm...moving as one. it was good...no great....we didn't care that we were both strangers, pressing our sweaty bodies against each other for a few hours one night....it seemed like a few hours, but it also seemed like it was going so fast....and let's face it, we would probably never see each other again....and i think we were both ok with that, ok with the fact that for one night, for a few hours one night we would use each other and that was pretty much that...
at the end of the night, the lights were on, the room was no longer dark and it was different. she faced me, i faced her, she asked me, in an almost shy way, "well....what did you think??" i replied, "awesome....it was great." i didnt want to sound too excited....she said "yeah, it was great. it was...(wait for it)... the best..... ever" she didnt mind sounding too excited and i sorta liked that....we said our goodbyes, as we both turned to walk away, she grabbed my hand, said to me "ill see ya next time"...i said, "yeah...next time" we both knew there would probably not be a next time, but we still acted like there would be. i walked away, she walked away......and that's why i love the general admission tickets at a concert....

the human note pad....or the word of the day....

maybe if you know me, you will notice a few things about me....well, maybe you'd notice a lot of things about me, but for the purpose of this blog i'll mention a few. if you are in my car or house, you will always find a bottle (or 4) or purell or other alcohol based sanitizer. why?? well, partly cuz im sorta freaky about germs and sorta for another reason. you will always find a pen on me or near me(in the car, etc) on the days that i work....more on that later, and finally, you will always see me wearing a long sleeved shirt at work. on the hottest of days, i will have on a long sleeved dress shirt at work all the time. i like the classic look that a pressed long sleeved shirt has, i will have the sleeves cuffed up, rolled 2 times, and thats it. the shirt will hit me close to my wrist at the forearm.

that being said, im not a note kind of guy. i always thought it was a sure sign of aging. writing notes to yourself?? come on, i can totally remember all that stuff....im not old....well....you know, things change. even so, i still cant write myself a post it and stick it in my pocket for later. so what ive been doing for a few years now is writing myself notes, but on my person, usually on the left hand/wrist/fore arm area. see pic...today i needed to remember that there was a sale, and i needed waffles, a priority mail box, and to drop off some drugs on the way home. simple, as i get them done i cross them off(thats why i need a pen) and after they are all done i "erase" them with the purell(it works great for that!) so if you see me at work or after work often you will see some writing on me, and to me, thats better than a note in my pocket getting lost in a sea of receipts, dollar bills(only singles, as i dont carry cash) notes about work and a whole lot of other junk.

i mentioned i wear long sleeves all the time. the people who i work with ask me if im hot, i always say no, even though i am. so just wear short sleeves. i cant. im not disfigured, well i guess thats up for debate, but i have this thing i do. it all started after my mom died a few years ago. i went through a lot of stuff, and honestly, it wasnt fun, but thats a blog for another day...but the thing is this, the reason i cant wear short sleeves, other than the fact i think its a fashion no-no is that in addition to the notes i write on my hands/wrist daily, to remind me, i also write something further up on my forearm, always covered by my shirt, for just me to see...sometimes its just a word, sometimes its a small saying or a line from a song, or sometimes its a name. for a long time it was my mom's name or initials, JLD, so i wouldnt forget her. i know it sounds silly, how can someone forget their mom, even after she has died. i dont know how, but i started to, so i put her initials there and would on occasion look at them. it would remind me of the good stuff that she did and the great person she was. lately, its been the name of a friend, who in my opinion, just needed a break or two. i would look at the name and send some postivity to the owner of that name, and things have been going great, so i think its working...
today the word for me was "remember" pretty vague i know. im the kind of guy who needs to be reminded alot, so this word, esp today, reminded me to remember stuff. what stuff you wonder...well...remember my mom, its been a while, and i miss her. remember my job, not just the job that pays me, but my job as a person, a human being. remember to be grateful for my family and friends.

here is the thing, in the past few months i've made a few really great friends, and i've ended some really long freindships, they were too toxic to me as a person. i have to remember how blessed i am for my new freinds, and i have to remember why im no longer friends with my past friends. its too easy to take new friends for granted and take old(bad) friends back because you have a lot of time invested in the friendship.

i always have the word of the day on my left arm, partly cuz im right handed and its easier to write it that way, and partly because i think its closer to my heart, and the word i write is usually something i know in my heart, so i want it to be close. this word, up until today, no one has ever seen it other than me. it would be gone in the car on the way home, removing it was always a trick when the weather is below zero and im bundled up with layers and layers, but i always told myself, this is just for me to see, and no one else, so i had to have it gone before i was around other people. the word of my day, well, its always been for me, just me. until now, i didnt think anyone would really even get it, so i kept it hidden away. but now i have a few friends who i KNOW will get and i want to say thanks for letting me share it with you.

my friends....

are happy, and so am i.
the older i get the more i learn about whats important, and this, its the MOST important.
things arent always great, but they are also not always hard either...and here is the proof.
sometimes things are perfect, and thats something to smile about....for all of us.

People in glass lives shouldn't throw boxes....

Hey....Hi....i don't know you really, but i don't like you....you see that's not normal for me...usually, if i don't know you i assume you're a decent cat, a stand up dude...but you, nah, you're not that. i know what you're thinking, "you don't know me" yeah, you're right, but i know ABOUT you, and i know guys LIKE you. i have to say, you make us all look bad.

Since I don't know you, and since I AM a stand up dude, i'm going to do you a favor. i will tell you what's expected of you, and i already assume you have a tiny attention span, so, for both of our sakes i'm going to keep it really, REALLY(the second REALLY is all for you) simple. are you ready?? got your pencil out?? i think you need to write this down, so you don't forget. ok?? ok.
its respect. yep, plain and simple. side note, i'm not really a fan or Aretha Franklin, but if this blog had theme music, it would be Respect by Aretha....i don't dislike her honestly, but it's the whole DIVA thing...but...oh did i lose you with that tangent?? anyway, like i was saying, respect. its really simple. let's make it SUPER simple, treat her the same way you want to be treated. you understand that, right??
now, i know what you're thinking. "what are you gonna do about it??" Honestly, and i'm at least that, honest...nothing...i wont do a thing....all talk you say, perhaps....but lets look at it this way...if i did to you what you did to her and her friend, you'd probably call the police or something...and to be honest, you're not worth it, at all...nope....the other thing is this,i care about them too much to make any kind of of bold, foolish gesture...she knows im here....its cool....and i respect HER too much...oh there is that word again, i hope you wrote it down...