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| Oh...my. Got some bad news recently. REALLY bad. The smokes I buy are going up in price. More to the point, they’re no longer doing the two-for-one stuff I’ve enjoyed for the past two or so years. I was paying $21/carton - it will now be $35. Screw that. So, I have to quit. Even if I could afford the price increase, I wouldn’t just out of principle. Smokes are just not worth that much. Sucks, man, because I really do enjoy the nasty habit. *sigh* Couple weeks ago, I had my kid over. As usual, we were prepping for a movie or two. I like his summers off. It means we do NOT have to spend our time together doing mainly (or only) his homework and reading. For the next couple months, we can veg out and junk up. Yeah man!! Well, anyway, before picking him up, I had a chat with his mother. Apparently, he used a scary part of one of the films we watched to say he was scared to go to bed. The odd part was, that film was watched OVER two moths prior. I don’t care how imaginative someone is, they just don’t spend that long being scared of 30 seconds of frame. Barb’s a kindly sort and thinks no ill of our son. So, I had to explain that he was using that so he could stay up later...get his way when he wants it. I used a few examples as “proof.” Was it actually his bedtime? Yep. Does he only do that when it’s time for bed? Uh-huh... Was he acting slightly different prior to that (indicating that he was indeed thinking of whatever scares him)? NOPE! Bingo. So I advised that she just turn to him right then and there...tell him to hit the rack. She did, and HE did. No more problems that night. I refused to speak with him that night because that would have given him something he wanted - thus validating his excuse and invalidating his mother’s authority. Barb didn’t quite understand that. But it worked. The very next day, I picked him up. Just before watching another movie (Jurassic park, in fact) I had a short talk with him. Okay, it was more of a YER BUSTED revelation. I said, “This is a good film, but the dinosaurs can leave you a bit freaked. People are eaten and the Tyrannosaurus is scary enough to give ME shudders. However, little one, I know you can handle it.” I went on to let him know that his mother and I are on to him. Not much scares him, especially in films we allow him to see. I let him know that even if the film DOES scare him, since he’s used fear as an excuse (cried wolf) too many times, we won’t believe him. Thus, if he really is scared...since we will no longer believe him...he’ll just have to deal with it. He knew I was serious, and I could tell from his expression that he knew he’d been caught. We watched the film. And a few other since that had questionable parts. We’ve had ZERO problems since that talk. During that conversation with Barb, I also pointed out that fear will never go away. We all have scary thoughts and sometimes wake up from such dreams. Cam cannot be protected from them. He has to learn how to deal with it anyway. So, hey! Tell the tyke to man up and call on ya if there’s something real to fear (such as a nuke war, tornado, robbers in the house, crazed wolves or coyotes in the yard, military activity (friendly or not), black helicopters, and so on. Until then...deal. And he has. Obviously, I will not be pushing it by showing him films like The Omen or any given slasher pic. Late in the school year, he was also nailed about something else - AT school. He kept telling Barb that no one likes him and he keeps getting picked on. He’s a small boy, even for his age, but I saw no evidence of that during the times I’d visited his class. Granted, I didn’t do that much this past year and things that can change on a dime. So, I checked it out with a simple visit. What I saw was the exact opposite. I reported that to Barb, of course. Still, he persisted int hat bunk, so she went in to ask the ones in authority. Cam’s teacher last year was a gentle kind of man. In my opinion, not tough enough for my kid. Cam needs serious supervision in order to keep his head straight...until he learns it’s best to do that himself. Cutting breaks for late homework is NOT something I like to hear. Screw that. Hammer the kid, will ya? However, the teacher’s aide IS a tough bird. Oh, yeah. She allows no BS from the kids. When she speaks, they obey - no questions asked. So, Barb went to HER. Soon as the question was asked about Cam’s story, the woman turned and shouted out “CAMERON!!” Busted again. Manipulative, isn’t he? Yeah, well, that’s kid fer ya, eh? Give an inch, they take 100 miles. Period. Trouble is, Cam’s MY son. He has a natural charm, and used improperly that turns into manipulation of others. It ALWAYS starts at home, too. Not that he learned it there, he gets practice there. No longer, though. It helps that I, his step father and his maternal grandmother are on to him and can help Barb along in seeing that her boy just ain’t the angel she wants to think he is. *snicker* Nope! In that, he’s a lot like me. Although I must say, it’s a cool thing to be able to hear a few things, know what’s happening, and outing the little crud on the spot. The “how does he KNOW this?” look is classic. Yeah. That’s one of the fun parts to parenting. Him being like me in many key ways allows me to put my rather questionable past to dang good use. *MWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA* What does grab me a bit is that Barb and I were together for 16 years, married 15. How can she NOT see this? Geez! Maybe it’s a mother thing, I dunno. But that’s okay. She can be that way all she likes, since there are at least THREE of us around her and Cam who are in the know. He’s her angel, but we know he has a definite little boy devilish side. This is why rearing children is naturally a TEAM effort (whether or not the parents are together). And just because we are a nice big team keeping his arse in line as best we can, he’s already WAY better off than I ever was at the same age. I must give Barb’s husband, Donnell, credit for all this, however. Barb is not the greatest at communication. After all, I missed a LOT of school functions, because she simply didn’t tell me. Not on purpose... She simply forgets. Always has been that way - always has driven me batty. This coming year, I’ll just have the school send me the same dang notices they send to her. Cam really is pretty well-adjusted. His school report card was A’s and B’s all but one grading period. That’s when he had a C, and we cannot tolerate that. It was math. He always whined he couldn’t do it. I countered with “no, it’s because you don’t want to. It’s hard. Nothing worth doing is easy. If it’s hard, do it.” He rose to the challenge and accordingly raised his grade. He has the same promise that I once had with school, but he also has the same problem with laziness. If it’s hard, quit. I did that because in a single parent household with no others present or made available to teach such lessons, I was allowed to give up. He was proud of getting A’s and B’s. Of course, I recognized the achievement. However, I coupled that, gently, with “you can do better, and now you know it. I want all A’s next year, okay?” I also consistently tell him that school is his JOB. He may not like it, and he may think he can live by just getting by with just enough to pass to the next level. But since he has the capability we will not allow that. Sometimes, he gets so frustrated he cries. These times are KEY. As much as I feel the pull to do so, I do not coddle him. I usually get tougher, but then hold a mini-celebration when he finally “gets it.” Subtraction was something that vexed him to no end. From doing it with him, I understood why. Apparently, the kids today (at least in our school system) are NOT being taught the way I was. I learned to do subtraction from left to right. THEY learn from right to left. Honestly, that makes no sense. No wonder he was having a hard time. I taught him the way I was taught...and BOOM! He started getting it. I also taught him something the teacher seemingly forgot - how to check his solutions (for subtraction) using addition. Do it backwards, in short, and if the addition answer matches the number from which is being subtracted, it’s correct. He does this now by HAND. No calculators. As a result, he ended up raising the math grade by one level in short order - and mostly on his own. As such, he’s now mandated to do better this coming school year. Gee. I can’t wait until he starts into the multiplication and division. *rolls eyes* During registration, Barb and I have kind of agreed to request the toughest teacher for 3rd grade. There is one who’s great, so for him we want her. No more easy going instructors for this tyke...at least until he’s able to compensate on his own for that lack of classroom discipline. A’s don’t come easy, but since he’s under mandate this coming year we’d best do our part. One thing we know: never trust any school system (private or public) to ensure a child’s academic success. You see, the fact is they just don’t care that much. They can’t. That’s OUR job. His future is in no one else's hands... |
| I’m betting you figured I went AWOL again - didn’t ya? Huh...HUH!? Okay, I did - for awhile. My choice, so sue me... Work is going well. The super negative co-worker has been assigned elsewhere for the time being. It’s been absolute heaven, man, even with no one to replace her. The added workload may not allow us to complete everything on time...BUT...it now stays busy from moment one to moment last. Just how I like it. Makes the day seem to pass by quicker. Sadly, another really GREAT co-worker went on maternity leave. So, for the next few months - at least - we have a full time slot open. If the super negative one does NOT return (and she may not), that leaves TWO full time slots open (one permanent). Although I’ve been working full time hours - mainly - I’m technically part time. So they fill those slots, I get reduced hours. To prevent that, I’ll nag the management to flip me to full time status. I deserve it anyway, because I’m just that good. *snicker* The tedium at work, busy or not it IS tedious, allows me to think while being productive. I kinda like that, too. Do busy work, think about other things. Such as... the OTHER project Cam asked me to do for him. You know, the script? I had thought of just cutting my teeth by doing a script from my already written novel but decided against it. There are key parts that can’t be cut for a script that would leave Cam with some rather scary thoughts. Besides, adapting a novel into a vastly shorter script format is EXCEEDINGLY difficult. Just thinking about it produces that knowledge, I don’t have to actually do it to know. So, I chose to do an original story. Something easy, something a kid might enjoy, but also something I’d love to write. After a couple weeks of serious thinking, banging my head against various hard object to get the juices flowing, and more moments than I care to remember wondering why I even agreed to do this kind of thing for the kid (AGAIN)...I finally came up with it. It’s a storyline that began much like the one for my book did - a tiny nugget of a scene prompted by something in the real world. Every time I’d come up to something in particular here the real world, the scenes would kick in. Make sense? Probably not. My streams of thought often do confuse people. Anyway, in this case it was walking through automated doors that trigger this particular scene in my head. As in, wouldn’t it be cool if we could THINK things like that into happening? Not for personal gain, but just because we CAN? Door open...and it opens (without having motion sensors). Can of food, come to me...and it does (without having to do much more than raise a hand to catch it). Cat get out...and it skedaddles (as if one actually yells the words at the poor thing). Yeah... Then of course, I had a thought. What’s the fun in THAT? Just because one can? DUH! If we could, we would. What else can we do to spruce up that little storyline. Ah, yes. The old “good v evil” twist. Always works, especially with kids. So that would require at least TWO main characters seemingly in opposition to one another. One good, the other evil. Hmmm... Too simple, even for a kid. They get that all the time. So I came up with another twist that’s sometimes used in written and filmed works. EVIL v evil - only one is obviously a bad seed while the other takes a different route. As in being nice to accomplish the same goal as the bad seed. Takes longer, but it is far more effective in the long run. Pure obvious evil can be identified and eventually defeated, even by weaker foes. However, evil cloaked in the light of goodness the entire time...is almost never properly identified and can never be defeated. Such cloaked evil must simply die on it’s own - even if it’s eventually identified (which happens only after the goals are achieved). Confused again? Don’t worry - it makes sense to me, and will make far more sense once written down and properly organized into an actual flowing story. Writing a script is only slightly different than writing a novel, I’m finding. The synopsis is the same, except I only have to write ONE. One short synopsis for a script, one short and one long for a novel. Time saved there. Another difference is the length. The typical book is about 250 - 400 pages long, while a script is roughly half that (less, actually). A book can embellish scenes and dialogue. A script must be to the point and very tight, highly visualized without all the expressive wording. So novels can used bigger words and longer descriptive passages (even lengthy narrative) while scripts are simplified (I think overly so - so I gotta watch that). Scripts are a quick setup and get it going. No rest, period. To the point, keep it tight, keep the story moving. If there’s a slow part it’d best be important to the story overall. Otherwise - SNIP! Gone! Formatting for a novel seems easier, but isn’t. Formatting for scripts is easier. Just a few things to remember, and honestly...grammar has nothing to do with it. That’s cool, because I won’t need an editor to tighten the script. I suck at grammar, so I MUST hire professional help for those projects. UGH! And the last striking difference is that with novels writing a synopsis is the easiest part, takes the shortest time. For scripts, the opposite is true. It takes far longer to come up with a workable synopsis, far easier to actually get things written when the real project begins. I find that very odd... Anyway, I’m writing the synopsis now. I only have just over two pages, but already I’ve gone through about 9 years in the lives of the two main characters. By the end of the third page, I’ll have generally outlined into their teens or even twenties. Fourth page onward (however many the synopsis needs) will deal with the real meat of the tale. At this point, I have no earthly idea how to do that, but I’ll get it. One step at a time. I think I’ll have the basic synopsis done within 2 months, and I have allowed myself a full 6 months for the finished first draft. Another 2 or 3 months until I wash my hands of the whole project and just give it to Cam. So 9 months total...from now. Maybe sooner. Once that synopsis is done, my style of visualizing what I write (dang near living it in my head, in fact) will allow the project to move along quickly. It’s possible I’ll be done with it before Thanksgiving. If you are wondering if I’ll post the finished product here, no I won’t. What would be the point? I’ll probably put it up for download, then post a link here (maybe), but aside from that it won’t be commonly available. So, it looks like Cam will get his wish - the first part anyway. I will write him a movie script. The second part of his request is still DENIED. I really don’t wanna work that hard... I’ll do it for the experience. Especially since it has such a shallow learning curve. I can;t believe how easy it is to do. Geez... Anyway, I’m gonna check out again. Maybe you’ll see another entry in a couple o’ weeks - maybe sooner...maybe later. Ah, who knows? |
| I have done a variety of gigs in my life. In fact, if you look at my resume just from the past 10 years, you’d think I just can’t really decide on what to do with my “professional” life. Truth is, as long as bills are paid, I don’t care what I do. My mother wanted me to attend some kind of college or university, but from an early age I knew schooling was just the pits for me. Didn’t take me long to figure out education is mainly the opinions of those whose books are purchased as well as those who run certain classrooms. Add to it, also from an early age, getting up early seemed against the grain for me. Funny, I do a lot of things against the grain simply because ... well ... because I can! So, anyway, I tried college for a year. It sucked. The first semester was pretty easy. Just a hair under a 4.0 (out of 4.0, of course), and only because I missed a couple stupid quizzes. The second semester confirmed what I’d always known. The rules were rigged. Here are just three examples... SPEECH - the very first day, the instructor laid out what we CANNOT give speeches on. The list was long, actually, and covered ALL of the interesting (she said “controversial”) subjects. Ironically, the list contained EVERYTHING in which I’m interested. After all, if someone’s giving a speech, wouldn’t it be best to give one on a subject in which the speaker’s interested? I mean, really. Wouldn’t it then be a bit more interesting to those having to listen when the speaker is animated? Yeah! But, noooooo... No politics, no religion, no science (for God’s sake, even that!), nothing on current legal controversies, and so on. Pretty much all the things that really power human civilization - regardless of location. So after sitting through some really mundane speeches, I got up and just winged it. What’d I do mine on? Stupid rules... No kidding. After that, I never returned. It was a required class, so obviously that meant I would NEVER graduate, no matter how smart I was or whatever my abilities would handle down the line. ILLINOIS HISTORY - THE most boring instructor... EVER! I kid you not. This class made the bane of my high school existence - Biology - seem outright tolerable. And here’s the thing - I LOVE HISTORY. But that guy’s style was awful. Simply awful. I failed that class because I barely showed up after the first few weeks. I just couldn’t take it. This was nearly 20 years ago, and I still shudder whenever I see that textbook on library or bookstore shelves. Again, not a joke. UGH! AMERICAN LITERATURE - You’d think I’d have really loved this class, right? After all, even back then I could write creatively. I figured it’d be fun to figure out why I could do that without really trying and possibly even improve my style. However... The very first thing the liberal scum teaching the class did was have us analyze an American song lyric - Simon & Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence.” She assigned us to take the sheet home, and then next time the class met we were to give a verbal report on what the lyric meant to us. EASY! Ya see, I love S&G - big time. Great duo, they are. Pretty melodies, outstanding thoughtful lyrics. They were then, as they remain now, one of my fav musical groups. As such, I knew a LOT about them and what influenced some of their best known tunes. So, yeah. Easy assignment. So I gave my little report. It turned out different than what most said - which was right down the line with what the group meant to convey (how odd *rolls eyes*). At the end, I was outright told I was WRONG. The song was NOT about what I stated. I responded with, “I know that. You asked us to recount what it means to US, not what Paul and Art were saying. Our own interpretation right?” Yes, I was right, but since I didn’t discover the TRUTH on my own, I was wrong. The class spoke up on my defense, since they heard the same assignment as I. But to no avail... ???????????????????????? WTF? I stopped going. The teacher sought me out in the cafeteria once and asked why. So, I explained what I figured was already obvious. She asked for us to think, come up with something insightful about what the tune meant to us, as individuals. I did that, and was admonished? DUH! It then dawned on me: how can any teacher effectively guide a class to think creatively and critically if he/she themselves cannot do so? Basically, that’s the main reason I’m stuck working less than blue collar gigs - intolerance for petty dictators. Now that I’m older, wiser, and maybe even a bit smarter, had I to do it over again, I’d find smart-ass ways to muddle through (such as giving a speech on why wrist watches should be banned in workplaces that have clocks - through federal law *snicker*). In short, I’d play their stupid games. But, things are what they are, and I must deal. As stated above, these days I do it with more than sarcastic irony. So now we get tot he main point of this entry... How similar the world at large seems to the stupidity found in classrooms (grade, middle, high schools or even college level). I have never before worked retail. Mostly, it’s a normal job. I go, get paid a pittance for my time, actually do the work, and then go back to my poor man’s hovel to await the next day and pray I don;t get stupid and spend too much before the next paycheck. You know, a normal life - finally. Not only have I never worked retail, but I’ve never before worked in any kind of grocery. With this Walmart gig, I get to do both. Although I said it’s pretty much a regular job, there are some things that have me scratching my head in utter wonderment. Some examples: The other day, a woman stopped and asked a co-worker why we don’t keep the tips of the asparagus moist. The co-worked was just there in our department for the day, so she deflected the question to me. Since I’m a micro-waving single male, I had no worldly idea. Geez... I buy canned asparagus, slap a dollop of butter on it, press a button - DONE! Fresh? Hell if I know! Thankfully, Da Boss was also there, so I continued the chain of irresponsibility and referred said customer to her. The customer asked Da Boss, but not for an answer. Nope! She basically wanted to whine that WE don;t do what the OTHER Walmart does, and as such she will not buy asparagus from our store. That’s it. It was really hard nto to bust out laughing, seriously it was. Of course, after the customer moved on (in a huff, to boot), Da Boss and I took a few moments to poke fun at the stupid, spoiled woman. We laughed pretty hard. Then, of course, we stopped, looked at each other, and I said “Ya know, she has a point.” We made the adjustment. Oh, so THAT’S what those white open top boxes are for. HUH! Another thing that grabs me about American retail are the usage of certain terms. ORGANIC being one that has me shaking my head. Organic fruit and veggies, organic keyboards, organic whatever. For the foodstuffs, Organic apparently means the stuff’s grown without using of any kind of pesticide (and whatever else farmers do to the crops to ensure they grow well enough to sell) AND that no preservatives are used for shipment. However, Organic foods we carry usually come in pretty wrappings. Here’s the thing... All that LACK of extra protection causes the food to be MORE expensive, it lasts about half the time as the other foodstuffs, and doesn’t sell as well (we end up tossing MOST of it, in fact). But the thing that really gets me is the term. Organic... Uh, we are biological creatures, so the ONLY kind of food we can consume without experiencing an extremely painful death, IS organic. Organic creatures - organic food. DUH! We cannot consume plastic or metals - only organic. Wanna prove it? Just try taking a bite out of an Organic keyboard. Tasty? No. Easily chewed? Nope... Swallow without tearing out your esophagus? Definitely not! Assuming one DOES manage to get such processed materials into the tummy, how do you think it would be digested? NOT! That’s where a good health plan comes in real handy... ALL FOOD IS ORGANIC! Sheesh! Organic... A BS term used to sell whatever businesses wish to reach the idiot Leftists who believe anything they’re told. Organic keyboards, for example, are NOT organic. If they were, they’d probably hug your hands and eventually be programmed to moan (in a good way) when touched. An organic chair would actively massage ones back. An organic computer would likely posses AI enough to turn OFF when someone’s been on too long...and then command the user to go out to get some exercise. Organic instruments would play themselves...and be pissed when the human takes ownership and all the glory for resultant hit songs...and then go on strike. I can see it now - organic musical instruments forking their own union. The Organic Union of Instruments (or OUI). Gives a new meaning to “Union YES!” - right? Another thing that grabs me is Walmart specific. The phrase “Sam’s Choice.” Now, I am aware that is one of their brands. However, I can’t help but think: “But, Sam’s dead! He can’t choose a damn thing!” EQUATE is another Walmart brand, usually reserved for non-organic items (bathroom items, drugs, etc). It’s their “generic” brand, in fact, marketed as if it has nothing to do with the retail chain. Now, this is something that really is a sticking point for me. They sell the same stuff at vastly lowered pricing...right next to the known brand names. Same stuff, different names and prices. Made by the same companies, too. The products are EXACTLY the same. And yet, Equate doesn’t sell as well. That amazes me... And speaking of the drugs themselves... Are you aware that when former prescription-only items go over the counter (OTC) that only the strength of each pill is reduced? That’s right. To go OTC, the company MUST (by law) reduce it. Guess what that ratio is? HALF! Yeah, half. So, the Zantac prescription pill is 150 mg. OTC pills are 75 mg (each). Take two and you have prescription strength. It amazes me that Zantac is STILL prescribed by doctors at that original 150 mg for high prices when the lowered prices OTC do exactly the same thing. The info is ON THE PACKAGE! The same goes for soft drinks... Dr. Thunder IS Dr. Pepper - it’s not a cheap rip-off. Dr. Pepper is distinct in taste, and no one has been able to copy the formula (even if they somehow get a hold of it). It’s just in different packaging specifically for WM - and again, cheaper. There’s a lot more, but I think you get the point. Americans are kinda stupid. Not ignorant...stupid. We’re easily led by TV commercials to think a brand name is somehow better than off brand - even when it’s rather obvious some of the products are exactly the same (not just similar). If they’re told ORGANIC is more healthy, they will believe it and thus pay more for such foods - even though ALL food is organic. And then somehow miss that it’s impossible (for now) for keyboards, chairs, beds, and desks to be organic. Then again, I know college grads who consistently get the terms “they’re,” “their,” and “there” confused - and actually argue about it when even gently corrected. We’ll spends BILLIONS on advertising campaigns to hawk products and services we really do not need, using terms that are very misleading, yet fight to the death over proper spending for better education. We’ll spend THOUSANDS educating kids on things they can actually learn on their own - or be trained for a fraction of the price. For example, trade schools. If one thinks even a little about it, it makes far better sense NOT to spend money teaching a kid to weld than it is to have him BEING PAID to learn the same thing as an Apprentice. DUH! It’s all about the money, honey, and like sheep we follow without question because things come in pretty little packages or just made to SOUND good., And yes, that goes for politics and religion, too. Sounds and looks good, IS good - even if it really isn’t. And some wonder why I intentionally go against the grain... Does no one think anymore? |
| I seem to be getting along quite well at work. In fact, I’d say I’ve been somewhat influential. The getting along well part was obvious from what happened yesterday. As soon as I arrived, Bob blocked the doors with a cart. Ya see, we have this little storeroom thingy (called a Cooler for you silly folk who aren’t thinking), and I usually just barge right in. I guess it’s kind of a dramatic entrance of sorts - needless to say, I usually do so without looking. So, Bob had intended that I barge into the cart rather than the room. Thankfully, I saw it beforehand. Of course, since the trick didn’t work quite as he’d planned, Bob tried to hide. How’d I find him? His snickers. Little shit... Gentle he may act, red hair like Barb he may have, and quiet he may be - that little stunt reminded me of my son. Since Bob is 26 (or somewhere around that age), I couldn;t stomp him into the floor as I do my son when he’s out of hand. So, how’d I get Bob back? I reminded him that his bride to be is just like MOI...and...I can easily forge an alliance with her to make sure he’s screwed for life (and NOT in a good way). That wiped the smile off his freckled mug. HA! The “influential” part has to do with one of our worst co-workers - yes, the overly negative, lazy one I wrote of in a previous entry. For a long time our supervisor has been trying to have something done about her (as well as one other, but mainly the mouthy one). Our supervisor is very serious about her gig (even if she’s frustrated with it overall), but we have one thing in common: if we accept to be hired to do a certain job, we’re gonna do it. Period. And neither of us has high tolerance for regularly picking up the slack of others for very long. The sup’s been trying and trying...and trying...to get the eeee-vil one officially warned (or even moved to another department), but to no avail. Even though all the managers know the deal, nothing gets done. Well, that is, until I came along. From day one, as I explained in that earlier blog post, I knew what kind of person this lazy one is, and I knew we would not get along. I did not tell you certain things for fear that there’d be so much you really wouldn’t believe it. Heck, I’m faced with it most days, and it took ME awhile to really believe it. Anyway, the reason I’m having more of this kind of effect is due to one chief thing: I do not fear authority (unless I’ve done something wrong), and I even pick on authority (joke with them, whether they like it or not). I think I explained that in a previous entry, too. That’s just the way I am, and mainly it’s taken well. A couple weeks ago, the top management became aware that I have no fear of either them or any visiting suits. They think I’m funny. They may also think I’m a bit crazy, but hey! Whastever works, right? But when I get serious (oh how rare that is), I get serious. That day a couple of weeks ago, those top managers saw that serious, professional side. I actually brought up the problem of these two lazy folks. I named no one, and did that on purpose - to see if what I was told was true. Did they already know the problem and exactly who? YEP! They sure did. So I dropped a quickie comment, and left it at that. Flash forward a bit to one day last week. Loudmouth co-worker actually left a mess AND didn’t fill the shelves. Where was she? Well, who knows, really. All over, actually. Everywhere she was asked to go except where she’s assigned. In fact, when I heard about it, I actually asked questions to find out which managers were on duty. I then sought out and asked them a couple questions. Well, one really. Did you pull Jessica to <enter job assigned here>? Each of the three said she VOLUNTEERED. Hmmmm... So, I took that info to mt supervisor, including the names of said managers (who, by the way, do not communicate with one another). Three separate sources of info brought into one wrapped package. The super noted it - she already knew Jessica does that. But still, having the NAMES of the managers who approved her volunteerism would help. Flash forward again to last Thursday evening. I had the distinct privilege of working with BOTH of the “magically disappearing when there’s work to do” co-workers. Which means I was alone. Trouble was that a regional boss was in. In fact, the regional suit was our super’s boss. So our department was under the eye of the all-knowing corporate entity (henceforth to be known and referred to as Little Brother). Since I was the only one actually working AND it was a very busy night AND some guy was repairing a cooler fan that had necessitated pulling almost all of our fresh greens (you know, lettuce and such), the department needed serious attention. Tony, Lazy Worker #1, pretty much disappeared as soon as he clocked in. But since I like him otherwise, I wasn’t worried. If we needed him, I knew where he was. However, Jessica, Lazy Worker #2, also disappeared right after arrival. She did ONE thing, saw the guy was repairing the fan, then announced that there was nothing to do until he finished. Oh, on the contrary. I mentioned straitening shelves, prepping and refreshing the pulled items, AND that the guy was just doing final paperwork and getting ready to allow us back into the area. There was also ample stocking to do elsewhere. She ignored all that...and...took off for about a half hour. During that time, I put back together the greens, stocked another section, and started in on yet another. That’s when the store’s second in command arrived...Chris. He’s nice, usually cool, and has a great sense of humor. But he does get really jittery when suits from regional or above are anywhere within 100 miles of the store. *snicker* USUALLY, I use that as fodder to poke a little fun at him - to his face, of course - but at that point I was not in the mood. “Hi, Mike,” he says on approach. I was bent over the strawberries, which sucks because if I wanted to kneel that much I’d convert to Catholicism. “So, you heard regional’s here, right?” he asked. I get up, look him in the eyes, and say, “Dude, I know what you’re about to suggest and the answer is no I cannot have this ready.” “Why not? There are three of you here.” I narrowed my eyes at his. “Do you see three of us, Chris?” I then waited as he actually looked around. “Are they in the back?” he asked, his tone unsure but his eyes knowing what was coming. I simply shook my head. He sighed. “Tony and Jessica, right?” “Bingo. Look, man, really... If you look real close, you’ll actually see a second person. Just not in her department.” The word HER must have clued him in, since he immediately looked at the Deli area. Yep! There she was. Jessica manning that station, relieving someone who’d gone to lunch, whole OUR work was not even close to being done. “What’s more, Chirs, she went elsewhere for about 30 minutes before going to the Deli.” “Where’d she go?” Chris asked. “Well, since she took her purse, I can only assume she went on break. Chris, I only need ONE of these ghosted co-workers to get this ready. I don’t care which.” Chris went over to the Deli then came back. “Jessica says she’ll be over as soon as someone returns from lunch,” Chris reported. WTF!? She’s telling HIM. I don’t think so... Chris is no wimp, but something tells me he’s afraid of Jessica. Perhaps he doesn’t like being yelled at? Who knows, but he’s IN CHARGE! “Where’s Tony?” he asked. “I think he’s in the back putting together bikes with his friend,” I replied. Chris left to get Tony. During that time, two other managers came up to ask what had happened. Well, strike that. Since they already knew, they were confirmign the story they’d heard from Chris. Which, of course, I confirmed...twice...once to each of them. Tony ended up coming back, we ended up getting ready. DURING that time, I took my break. Jessica also took ANOTHER break - and then decided to head out for lunch. She spent a grand total of five minutes in our department the entire first third of her shift. Once she returned, I had a half hour left, so I just took off to do something else. I’d had enough. The next day, I heard that Jessica still had not done her work and even left the place uncleaned. Total mess, in fact... Oh, but it gets better. Due to that fiasco, and my level-headed handling of a maddening situation (and showing management more than a little irritation at their seeming inaction over something so obvious and well known), two things happened: my supervisor found new reasons to restart her justifiable crusade AND I was noticed. According to my supervisor, the managers all agreed that I was working my arse off. That’s how THEY saw it. Wanna know what REALLY happened? I was working as I always do, they just happened to notice that I was doing it - mainly - alone. So in a way, having two crappy workers not doing their jobs while I did mine made me look far better in their eyes than I am. Remember, I’m a newbie - I miss things that the other four (out of six total) good workers catch in an instant. That night, I was doing the OBVIOUS things. Bu they! I’ll take recognition where I can get it, eh? *wink* Well, anyway, the super’s gonna DEMAND management discipline Jessica - and Tony if he doesn’t get his act straight. But for now...Jessica. Since I outright told our super I have her back on this one, she doesn’t feel like she’s going it alone. Heck, I can easily write up a full report on what happened just that one night and, without any kind of embellishment, make it sound like it was a malicious attack on the integrity of our otherwise good department. And I can back that up by making a personal appearance at said disciplinary conference - on my day off (Monday) - if they wish. No problem at all with that. TWO good things will come out of that hearing. One, Jessica will stop trying to seduce me in her hideously low-brow manner. Examples: “I like to F***, what can I say?” and “I prefer older men” (coincidentally, I’m a decade and a half older - hmmm...)” and “So, what do you do on Friday nights? Drinking, sex, what?” and “I heard most of the women in Watseka are sluts. How many of them know you?” and - last one, but nowhere close everything - “When I get drunk, I like to shed my clothes. You’re coming to my birthday party next month, aren’t you?” NO! Well, you see the point there, right? So after this, she’ll leave me alone. The second thing is that she’ll either straighten up, be transferred out (eventually), or (also eventually) be canned for further offenses. You see, knowing she has support now, the supervisor can feel completely free to move forward. And trust me, when it comes to something like this - something right to do - and I dang good ally to have. ‘Cause I can write AND deliver a small, kinda charismatic speech. Of course, I still pick on the supervisor for being short. Yes, even in the midst of all the above recent troubles. In fact, SHE even picks on herself now. Apparently, she’s never done that before - not there anyway. Hilarious... I hear she has a daughter working there, too. Some 20 year old kid named Ashley. *eeeee-vil laughter* Yes! I shall seek out Ashley and...pick on her, too. Es guerra, amigos! Two, in fact - only, one of them is really fun. Okay, I’ve gone on enough. I should get some shut eye. Afternoon/night shift tomorrow - MY HOURS! Yeah man! |
| ...sooooo, I'll give y'all a gander at the first thing I've written since early 2008 (no kidding, it's been that long). Enjoy! I WISH TO SEE THE STARS AGAIN I wish to see the stars again To dream of what might be; To feel the breeze upon my face And find the missing key. This heart, locked up so long ago, Demands to be set free. But I must ponder certain things Before I can believe. Just know that I will not allow Myself to disappear. Remember that whenever I Whisper into your ear. So help me take one final chance To blaze this new frontier; I want to spy those stars again, Regardless of the fear... ©2009 Michael Wonch |
| My research into converting my book into a screenplay has begun. I started with the obvious: reading other scripts. Seems the average page count for these is about 150, which I can do in my sleep. Geez! What a racket that is...writing for films. So anyway, the first one I read was written by Kubrick ... yeah, STANLEY Kubrick. It was a good read. 155 pages, took about 2 hours to read. And yeah, it did seem as if I was watching the film. Which film? Well, I liked the thing so much I went and checked to see if I could grab up the movie, just to compare it to what I envisioned. Turns out ... the screenplay I read was a project Kubrick never got off the ground. Napoleon ... never made the film. Hmmm... Well, anyway, I also read Dark Night (one of the NUMEROUS Batman films). That one was about 120 pages, or so, and actually matched what I saw in the film itself (which was actually pretty good). Ya know what? I can EASILY write one of those script thingys. It ain’t gonna be hard at all. So, I’ll get it done, slowly, and then give it to Cam ... to READ. I will resist the second part of his request - to get it filmed. Screw that. The last thing I need is to commiserate with Gomorran scum (entertainment folks in general). That’d be pretty icky to have to do THAT again, so - um - no. Anyway... The research is pretty much done. Yeah, it’s that easy - for me, anyway. So while I wait for my book editor to kick it into gear, I’ll start converting my novel. That should take - oh - 3 to 6 months tops. After that, Cam should have something to read out loud to fulfill the reading requirement of 30 pages per DAY (forced upon him by the eeeee-vil trio of myself, his mother, and his step-dad *snicker*). Come to think of it, reading movie scripts of films he’s watched (over and over again) might be a great way to teach him something that I seemingly can’t otherwise (so far) - how to envision what he reads. Connect what he sees with his eyes to the imagination and logic centers of his brain. Yeah - they’re that easy to read. So, this could be seen not as a waste of time to fulfil part of his request but as an educational tool. After all, if I wrote it, especially at his request, he WILL read it (dang it). *blink blink* So, okay. Fine, son, it’ll be done. NYAH! As I close this entry, I do want to suggest a couple of OUTSTANDING films I had the opportunity to watch Sunday: Knowing and Taken. Both are thrillers. Knowing is pretty suspenseful with a lot of easy to follow plot twists. You may think you see what’s coming at the end, but it turns out a little different. I almost guessed it...but not quite. It has a heavy religious undertone without being preachy (not in the least). I actually thought “Oh, wow” at the end. Ya gotta see it ... even if you don;t like Nicolas Cage, you will probably like it. Taken stars one of my all time fav actors - Liam Neeson. He;s supposed to be American, but one can hear the heavy Irish accent in key parts. But that’s very easy to ignore. It revolves around a storyline of him using skills from a previous career to save his daughter, who was kidnaped from a Paris apartment while he was listening. From that point, it’s a heck of a ride as he travels about to save her. It’s a hell of a film and deserves every bit the accolades it received. In fact, it deserves more. Both are available for rental ... so go get ‘em and enjoy! |
| So... Cam came over, as planned, and we did indeed watch the Transformers. It was actually pretty good! Lots o’ laughs, good action, and aside from the stupid robot names almost believable. All in all, a good time enough that I’m looking forward to taking Cam to the second film. We had the time, so we watched Iron Man right after. The acting was great, but the storyline blew big ones. Cam lost interest 3/4 the way through. His old Hot Wheels cars held more interest, apparently. But yeah... I was surprised at Transformers. Well done all around. Well done... Sonny boy also took a moment to make yet ANOTHER request from me. He wants me to, get this - write a screenplay. He really did. I blinked, hem and hawed a bit, and then said, “Honestly, kid, are you aware of how easy it is to write such drivel?” “Then do it, dad!” D’OH! First, he wants a song...ends up with a full album of short symphony. After that, I realized I had a greater talent than even I knew for music (composing, not performing). Since completing that album and four additional tracks, I sent a few to my mother, who critiqued them. In a nutshell, she said they were okay...but boring. More positive than expected. So, I undertook my own regimen of boning up on Music Theory (UGH), which has helped a little so far. It’s a long process. Cam’s request and resulting album took most of 2008 to setup, begin, mix, and complete. All this time, I have NOT used my other talent to write or edit anything. In fact, that really hasn;t been done since the Floods in early 2008. However, I did find a whiz-bang editor I can actually touch from time to time. Man, it’s been a busy year, eh? So, here I am, about to gear up to write something new and the tyke makes THIS request. On top of it, he DEMANDED that after it’s done I get it filmed. Great... Just great. “Okay, son. I’ll get it started soon.” What else could I say? I’d already stated it’d be easy to write one (it would be...mainly). All I have to do is choose a subject, read a bunch of scripts to get a grasp on the method, and then do it. No problem! *rolls eyes* I’m at a loss of subject matter (from scratch), so I chose to convert my novel. Which makes the task a BIT more difficult. So, I get to add even more to the studies. Geez... This kid. Whether he knows it or not, he’s forcing me to organize my time in a useful manner. The GOOD thing is I probably will not have it filmed. I’m too lazy for that kind of work. I’ll just write it then give it to him. Scripts are easy enough to read. Grammar school students can get through the dang things in just a day or two. Which I guess explains how actors can do it. *snicker* So here’s how it’ll go once the rough draft’s done: “BOY! You wanna see it? Then read it and envision it in your mind.” HA! Take that, you little slave-driving snot. So... I now have a new project reminiscent of the music thing: study, research, study more, begin, struggle through, continue, finish. ARGH! The crap I get myself into with this child. Note to self: NO is a word he understands quite well ... use it at least once in awhile! |
| Ahhhh... I just had a day off (yesterday), and now, I’m gearing up for another (soon as I get a bit o’ snoozin’, that is). Yesterday was “movie day.” Since I now work a full hour closer to home, it’s a lot easier to a few things I was unable to do before. It’s really amazing what two extra hours per day will do, isn’t it? Such as more time with Da Boy. Yeah, man! Oh, and it gets even better. Barb, Da Ex, decided to take a gig in town. Since her hours are pretty much 8 AM to 4 PM, that means on my days off I get the splendid excuse of spending even MORE time with Da Boy. Hey, why allow him to go to a babysitter when ol’ dad’s available on certain days, eh? Not a bad thing - no, not at all! Well, okay. Maybe ONE bad thing. Ya see, when I took mini-me to see the new Trek, we were treated to the obligatory commercials. Oh, sorry - upcoming film trailors...tralers...whatever. One of them got his attention: Transformers 2. Transformers were some kind of phenom when I was a wee lad, but I never got into them. Back then they were cartoons, and I do believe by the time they became the thing for kiddies to watch I was already entering my arrogant teen years. You know what I find really odd about that today? One of my favorite guilty pleasures on TV these days is Clone Wars. Yeah... Wouldn’t watch Transformers and the like when I was a kid (heck, I was even too snobby for the cartoon version of Trek), but I will watch some of that kid stuff as a fully grown man. Sometimes, I really don’t get myself... But sometimes I stick to my guns, man. When Transformers was released a couple years back I had no trouble refraining from joining the proverbial crowd. Go watch super large, interstellar robots change shapes and fight? Aw, HELL no... Well, anyway, little Cam was all kinds of enticed about this Transformers film. Now that he’s eight, he did catch the “2" and wanted to know if I’d ever seen ol’ numero uno. Okay, he actually dug into my shallow mind by asking if I knew there was a first film. Stupidly, I admitted that I did. Ya know, sometimes that little boy can be quite girlie, because he got real silent for a few seconds. The kind of silence usually reserved for a woman making sure her man knows she’s displeased with...well...whatever. Of course, old memories of once being hitched to one of those wimmin folk flooded back, and I did what I sometimes did back then: bowed my head, APOLOGIZED, and then asked if he wanted to see the first one. Just like them wimmin folk, Cam brightened up as soon as he got his way. Obviously, the guns with which I stuck...are rusty. *bows head, sighs* Now I must keep my promise and watch the stupid film with Da Manipulative Munchkin. I will endure said torture later today...soon as I pick him up after school. There’s something else I wondered recently. In fact, earlier today. I was chatting with an old friend, and he (yes, HE) easily maneuvered me into a discussion about our genetic semi-clones. I swear, now that I think of it, we were clucking like two old HENS while comparing notes on how we feel over certain things. One thing ion particular is we are both rather protective of our offspring. Not normally protective...OVER protective. As in, for example, I am dreading the day Cam moves into town and starts going places...ALONE! *gasp* man, I just can’t get over that. Very soon, he’ll be walking and riding bikes wherever he wishes without a parental protective detail. And that really bothers me! Dad’s intimidating presence will now be a hindrance to his budding independence, and I find myself really NOT wanting to let go. My buddy feels the same way about his two older children (he has five in all). So in the middle of our cluck-a-thon I stopped to ask him, “Dude. When did we become women??” Aren’t the MOMS supposed to be worried over these very things, while we dads at least ACT as if we couldn’t care less (or are even relieved) at not having to be so bothered with playing secret service agents for our soon-to-be world leaders? Aren’t MEN supposed to LIKE it when the fruits of our loins start making their own decisions, rather than biting nails over “Where were you? Who’d you see? Did you talk to ANY strange adults...beyond your parents, that is?” I’m kinda HAPPY Cam isn’t getting into sports like other boys his age. Why? Because he might fall down and scrape a knee OR get elbowed making some kind of goal OR get hit at the plate by a wild pitch. How pathetic am I?? Yet I’m just proud as punch when Cam reports he received a brutal beat-down by a GIRL that he dared to catch him...or picked on until she decided to give him the Kiss of War. ARGH! I really need to man-up. Geez! He’s getting older, and he’s gonna need his space whether I like it or not. Well...that’s all for today. My body hurts from loafing too long watching those Hollywood propaganda pieces. Time for a few hours of shut eye. Night night! *wink* |
| Working at Walmart has become...fun. No really, it has! A few things are testament to that. The first is my relations with most of my co-workers - save the one I mentioned in an earlier entry. There’s what’s called a Merchandise Supervisor (MS for short). She’s tiny little thing named Kristi...but call her that and she’ll kick your ankle (that’s as high as she can reach *snicker*). Since she’s so short, of course, I cannot resist pointing that out - time and time again. Thankfully she has a sense of humor coupled with my having a work ethic. Otherwise, I’d probably be hoofing it looking for another gig. *ahem* In reality, all joking aside, I do have a nickname for her: Boss. Imaginative, huh? Hey, look... That’s all my muddled brain could come up with as I was adjusting to those dreaded early mornings. She’s fun, and gives back right at me as much as I hand out. Gotta respect a boss like that. There’s also some kid named Derek. Nineteen years young, hard worker, very responsible kid. He works two jobs, and now has a baby on the way. He gave us the news without looking freaked out. Good one, he is. He’ll be a great dad, I can see it. Well, since I am his PARENTS age (literally), it’s my duty to abuse him properly to keep him in line. Okay, I admit it - it’s because he reminds me of how aged I’m becoming. Just to give you a clue as to how close in age to his nineteen year old’s mom and dad I am...his mother is 40, his dad 41. MY son is 8, and I’m 42. I’ve met more than my share at this place my age who have teenage kids (or those int heir early 20's). The only ones I really have anything in common with child-wise are those half my age. ARGH! Finally, there’s a very odd man by the name of...Bob. Twenty-six, Bob is, and he’s getting married in September. The more I get to know Bob, the more I realize he and his intended are polar opposites (gender-wise) of Barb and myself. With the latter, I was the Alpha personality, she the more passive type. With Bob and his soon-to-be-slavemaster, it’s the other way around. Here’s another rather strange similarity - HE has the red hair, she the brownish. Just like looking into the past AND at a mirror...which reverses gender (if that makes sense, I’ll give you a dime - maybe). It’s very odd, yet also very revealing. Of course, I cannot help it but scare the little quiet man about what he’s in for. Bob is a good man, quite honestly. To his face, I say “kinda girlie.” Then again, that’d probably make his fiancee kinda manly...and from what I know about her, if I enjoy living, I won’t ever go there. Anyway, I can tell Bob has doubts, so instead of being a pal I just bring those doubts out for him to feel in spades. Why? Well, marriage is a huge step, and I want Bob to be sure they’re making the right choice in one another. You see, they really do remind me of me and Barb. There were signs early on (meaning before we were hitched) that the wedded bliss wouldn’t work out as we imagined, and there are the same signs with this younger couple. Bob and I get along really well. He may seem quiet and unassuming, but really...he’s not. He’s kinda geeky, which I liked right off, and he has a razor sharp wit to give back what I deal out. I can’t help but like him. However, perhaps I did too well with my “bring them doubts out and face ‘em” attitude...because...he told his woman. And...she wants to have a few words with me IF I don’t begin balancing all that otu with SOMETHING positive. Hmmm... So, like the wuss that I really am deep inside, especially when faced by a strong woman nearly HALF my age, I did as requested. And get this - I’ve haven’t met her yet. Intimidating chick, she is. Yeah... I think I’m gonna like her, too. I had a serious chat with Bob, letting him know my seeming negativity toward marriage was not in fact how I think about the institution. I let him know that my ex and I do get along and are as close friends as we can be. I also let him know that over half of the marital problems were caused by me, the rest by her reactions, and both had made a poor choice based on love alone (no logic, no building of trust and respect first). We moved too fast. We’d dated barely a year before tying the proverbial knot. Heck, I’m surprised it lasted a decade and a half, really. So, anyway, since he and his girl have been together OVER three years AND have lived together part of that time AND still desire to make it a committed union...AND...they kinda act married right now...they should be fine. They have enough time figuring one another out and figured out how to balance one another out. He was relieved to hear me say that. Of course, I ended that with a hearty slap to his shoulder and quipped, “So, Bob, you should have no problems adjusting from being an unmarried slave to being her wedded bitch. Just don’t let her buy a strap-on, ya know?” He nodded, smiled, and thanked me again. *LOL* Ain’t I a good pal? That my immediate crew. There are others in other departments that seem to get a kick out of coming over to OUR department for some nice verbal slap-stick. Another MS named Brandon. Funny dude! And of course, there’s little Shane...a young man I swear is me 20-or so years ago. We have this thing going where people are now wondering whether or not we’re father and son. No kidding... We joked about that ONCE, and it got around. We’ve both been questioned about it. Sometimes we say yes, other times no - just to keep everyone guessing. Once, one of the women HE works with asked me while he was standing there. He said yes, I said no. swe were both seemingly serious, in our matched smart-aleck manner. She actually looked back and forth between us for a few seconds before saying, “I don’t know who to believe...” Classic... I pick on ALL the managers - including the big guy and his second. Since I’m still working there, they obviously have great senses of humor. And yes, then there was Wednesday. Corporate was visiting (Tor knows what that means). Days ago, I mentioned to the second in command (called a Co-manager, and his name is Chris) that he might not want to introduce the “suits” to me. Newbie or not, I told him they WILL get picked on kinda like I pick on all managers. He laughed, and obviously did not take heed. Because... As I was working, the gang of suits came through our department. One came over, under the watchful eyes of the others, and said hi. Here’s how it went... “Well, hello, Michael,” says the bald suit (apparently the regional boss). “How’s it going?” “Peachy,” I said as I continued to stock the bananas. “Aren’t you supposed to say “banana-y? Get it?” I stopped what I was doing and just looked at him. I wasn’t actually amused and showed it. I said, “Yeah. Original, that.” He smiled again and thrust out his hand. Now, when stocking any non-packaged food, I always wear gloves. Most don’t, but I prefer doing it that way. Plus, the condensation from the humidity of the back room was pretty bad - so my gloves were wet. As a result, I just held up my hand. “Better not,” I said after a short breath and a furrow of my brow (done on purpose so he wouldn’t take it personally). “No, it’s okay,” he said, still holding out his hand. He just didn’t get it, and I was not about to pull off those silly gloves just to shake his hand. I was busy. Keeping it verbal is perfectly fine with me. Besides, I didn’t know him and do not appreciate having to touch someone who may or may not have had a recent bout with Ol’ Swiney. I shook my head, he laughed again. “That’s fine,” he said. “We’ll do it this way.” He then proceeded to take my arm and shook that. I couldn’t help it...I had to join his laughter. Right then and there he proved a sense of humor and grace, and he earned my respect. HIS boss was watching the whole episode. That guy smiled while shaking his head and continued their tour as he said, “Hello, Michael.” Apparently, they found that amusing. Hey! I told them it’d be best to steer clear, eh? Then again, now that I think of it, that may be why it was done. The suits probably were told and just wanted to see if I’d cow like most others. NOPE! If you’re as mortal as me, you’re no one to fear. SO let’s have fun! There is also one particular TRUE story going around about me. You see, a week ago, I tried to clock in but the dang piece of computerized technology didn’t allow it. Even though I was scheduled, it said I wasn’t. So, I went to the managers offices and placed my hands on my hips until acknowledged. There was this guy I’d never before laid eyes upon who turned and asked if he could help me. Now, I already knew he was some kind of regional dude, but pretended not to realize. “Yeah,” I said. “I need one of you manager type to come to that cursed time clock and smack it into compliance. I need to get to work before I get too bored and start causing trouble.” So the guy gets up and says, “Well, my card won’t work for you.” “No kidding? Why? Don’t they trust you?” Mind you, this was within earshot of other managers whose cards WOULD work. I wasn’t actually addressing that guy, but hey! He offered to help,. So I gave my attention...as I do with EVERY manager type. I actually saw Brian, the store manager (Da Big Guy) suppress a smile. Chris, the co-manager, cringed (he’s just nervous that way, which is perfect comedic fodder for my other fun zingers). The suit didn’t smile much, but was friendly. Maybe because it was 6 Am and he’s not used to such early hours. Who knows? I ended up getting clocked in...and the assistant manager who did it kept snickering. Little Derek, mentioned above, loves that story enough to have me telling it to anyone from outside the department we meet. In fact, Derek actually gaffed when I recounted the arm shaking encounter with the “feared” suits that he called be crazy. And the Boss thought it was funny. I probably get away with these things because I take the insignificant gig seriously. I chose to be there, they chose to hire me...as such, I will do as they assign and will do it as best I can. Period. Take the job seriously, but myself. Trust me, they’ll let me know if I ever screw up. So, it appears that the last several years of a hard financial life has given me enough insanity to be charming again while not enough to be truly nutty. I think... I mean, think about it. I drive a really crappy car that cops LOVE to stop because they know dang well there’s something ticket-worthy going on (usually, my friendly nuttiness gets me out of tickets - cops love NOT being the butt of irritation or anger). I can barely pay bills. I have no savings left. And I sleep on a cheap futon rather than a real bed (sometimes that can suck). I work crap gigs because I didn’t have the brainpower and discipline in my youth to think beyond the moment...and all that while entering middle age. On top of it all, I have a very high intellect, know stuff, can learn quick (sometimes), and am almost DAILY mistaken for some kind of manager or supervisor (and that’s everywhere, not just WM). I have a criminal record (due to not thinking beyond the moment) and I’m realistic enough to understand it’s likely gonna be this way...FOREVER. My credit record is a joke and will probably not improve in time for me to enjoy it (again). And still I choose to laugh (and I don’t even have to try most days). On paper, it looks like I’m scum of the Earth (it really does). But in person, these days, apparently it’s different. Faced with all that, I choose to laugh. And, man - it works. Regardless of the above, I know doors open wherever I go. I just have to decide whether or not to step through one of them. All I have to do is make a decision. What and when that will be, I have no idea. All I know is that the consequences of that rather dubiously led life have hardened me enough to get through...well, anything. As such, I can DO anything (within the bounds of the law this time...of course *ahem*). THAT is why I can still laugh, even through the occasional stress-filled sleepless nights. It’s not Wal-mart of any other place I’ve worked in the past few years. It’s me... Yeah... Crappy pay and crappy gig at the WM, sure. But it’s fun. That makes all the difference... Will I ever become a Company Man? IN A PIG’S EYE!! *snicker* Not unless it’s MY company, that is... Then maybe. |
| Okay, well... Cam and I went to see the new Star Trek movie, and he was into it. I never really got him into the older Trek series and films. His age was part of that, our separate living arrangements another, but mainly it was because he really showed no interest. As he got older, however, and his imagination grew to seemingly monumental proportions I figured he might actually enjoy some rather action-oriented sci-fi. After all, he did like Terminator (all of them), X-Men, and a couple of others I can’t recall off hand. What better way to introduce the mini Mr. Wonch to the Trek universe than a RE-introduction to me for a new vision for the franchise. In short, going in we were both new to it (him a bit more than me, of course). Which leads me to the main point of this quick blog entry. My opinion...without revealing too many plot points. Tor will probably be interested in this. If you aren’t, click out now. Since this film is actually about the original crew of the Enterprise, the movie starts at the very beginning for the two main characters. Kirk’s birth, an important life-shaping event right after, as well as a short look into the future captain’s rather troubled childhood. Lemme just say, oddly enough, the vintage convertible coupled with my all-time fav Beastie Boys tune called Sabotage. Out of place as those things seemed, it actually worked. Then there’s Spock. He’s shown at first on his homeworld as a half-Vulcan, half-Human child tormented by his peers, then as a young man rejecting the same prejudice from his world’s ruling council, and finally as an officer serving aboard our beloved Enterprise. The film starts out fast and doesn’t really let up. Where there is no action there’s humor and/or pivotal plot points. The film itself is more about the characters than the ship, it’s technology, or even the time-frame in which this all takes place (kinda seems like 100 years from now rather than the canon’s 300 or so). Or maybe it’s just a realistic view of how human society really does progress - key tech progress, slower social progress, and overall everything else remains the same. Just so you know, Trek fans, Chris Pike is in charge...at first. What follows is pretty fun to watch. Pike’s taken out of the game early on, but not in a bad way. Once you see how that’s done, you know dang well he gets to come back later. The film itself nods to the original canon, however the changes are explained in a very Star Trek manner (thus we have no choice but accept it). Time travel is involved as is, of course, revenge...which ends up creating an Alternate Timeline. For example, Trek fans know Kirk worked his way up the chain of command (faster than usual, but still hit every rung). We also know Kirk always had some kind of direction in his life. So the events at the start of the film actually changed all that. However, the silent argument of Predestination throughout the film bears out that what was supposed to happen in one way would still end up happening in another. One thing I didn’t like was the cop-out aspect of how everyone found themselves in command positions (right out of the Academy, mind you). I can see a doctor suddenly finding himself Chief medical officer following the death of HIS boss. That’s kinda realistic...to a point. Spock as original First Officer given acting captaincy by Pike is another totally realistic happenstance. However, if you view the film and know ANYTHING about military/corporate protocols, would never be given the position of acting First Officer after first being sneaked (snuck?) aboard (after being officially grounded for “cheating” on a test). And then, of course, after being booted form the ship (by Spock) again sneaking on board only to end up - captain? Using regulations, to boot. There is no way that would ever happen, even in a pirate fleet. It was a bit reminiscent of how promotions are taken as outlined in the original series’ Mirror Mirror episode (Terran Empire). And frankly, the fact that Mr. Scott deserted his official post on some backwater planet to help Kirk back aboard the Enterprise...and ended up immediately in the Chief Engineer’s slot? No...aw hell no. BRIG! And then, maybe...after a couple years in a penal colony. Now, it IS possible that a seriously junior officer end up commanding a ship. Yes, that can happen. However, NEVER are they given command rank AND an official line command fresh out of an Academy. But still, it’s Trek, so we can forgive that - kind of. Honestly, that was the only thing with which I had a serious “Oh come on!” problem. The way it was done seemed far too rushed. Other than that, it’s a good film and superb “reboot” of the franchise. If you are a fan of the Trek of the past (event he recent past...like me), then leave your preconceptions at the door. Start fresh. I will warn you of one thing, however. An entire race...an IMPORTANT race...within the Trek universe gets wiped out (with only 10,000 surviving out of several billion). I won’t say which one, but I will say they KEEP it that way rather than doing the usual Trek trick of setting it right (somehow). Since the film has now outperformed current releases, even popular ones from a week or two ago, I believe it’s safe to say the sequel already being worked on will get the green light from Paramount. Especially since the studio and JJ Abrams successfully brought in an entirely new generation of fans who will demand it. I think Gene Roddenberry would be pleased as much as, if not more than, Glen Larson was at the Battlestar Galactica “reimagining.” All in all, well done. I look forward to more, and I think you will, too. |
| LOL! My will-be-a-teen-too-soon son has done it again. So, I’m at work, right? Just coming off of one of those maddingly LONG Wal-mart lunches, and I decide to give my li’l doppleganger a call. “You ready for our movie tomorrow?” I ask. “I thought that was today!” he exclaims. “Um, no. Love to, but I’m working. It’s tomorrow.” “I know, dad. Just kidding.” Ooooooo... Little crud. He’s getting much better at that. “Well?” I ask while looking at my watch. “Well, dad, it’s Sunday. Is that ALL we’re doing?” His tone conveyed an actual desire to do nothing else but the movie. WTF?? “Um, sure. You have somewhere else to go or something, stranded one?” “I want to spend time with my mom. It’s Mother’s Day, after all.” At this point, I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh. “Yeah,” I said trying to stifle a chuckle. “If you want to, that’s all we’ll do.” Barb said nothing about spending time with him, which I specifically asked her. Apparently, HE thought of that. Ya gotta give him credit. So, okay, no problem. We’ll go up-, see the film, then right back to his mom so he can cater to her every whim. Honestly, the kid REALLY has no idea for what he’s volunteering. Barb WILL enslave him, especially if he’s willing...and a captive out on that farm. *shrug* Oh, well. At least he’ll have company. Donnell will be there, too. Me? I get to make ONE phone call - to my ma. That’s it. After that, I’m FREE, BABY!! *snicker* So, I hung up, and then went back to work. Speaking of, I swear to GOD the largest retailer is way too nice. No kidding. We have no less than TWO really lazy workers in our department. Ironically, as the newbie, I get to work with them quite a bit (so to speak). That is, I get to serve time with them. Usually, I end up working without them anywhere in sight. They do a couple things ... then off they go wherever, not to be seen for two, three, sometimes four hours. One of them, a young 20-something woman, is THE most negative person I’ve ever known. I kid you not. I’m 42, and have known some real downer types, man. But this chick? Takes the prize. I actually thought for DAYS, back over the decades, to see if I could dig up ONE other who would be a match for this one. Nope... Always complaining, even about doing things she has been DEMANDING to do. Never EVER a nice thing to say about anyone. So, I got some advice from a 19 year old co-worker (he’s pretty cool and seems a few years older than he is). “What I did,” he said, “was piss her off somehow. Not sure how I did it, but I did. Now, she never talks to me. It’s heaven.” That might be good advice, honestly, ‘cause this one really has me wanting to eat a bullet sometimes. Really, she does. Shakespeare MUST have looked into the future, saw her through the crystal ball, and came up with the idea for Taming of the Shrew. Thing is, if that DID happen, Ol’ Willie made said Shrew NICE compared to this one. OY! Day One, I kid you not, she assaulted me with all kinds of info I really didn’t need. Personal info - you know - the kind designed to get me thinking bad about people I hadn’t even met yet. That kind. She also told me right off “I’m the kind you either love or hate. There is no middle ground.” I have yet to meet anyone who loves her. Anyway, she’s one. When I work with her, she might as well not be there. The same goes for one other in that department. Guy named Tony. Big black guy, doesn’t smell like he washes his clothes or bathes/showers regularly. Thankfully, nasal cavities deaden to such things real fast, so it’s all good after about - oh - ten minutes. Until that time, I simply endure. He’s not around much, either. Even less than the woman mentioned above. He’ll show up for work, clock in, and go...somewhere...for an hour or two. Then he takes his “break.” He shows for an hour or so, then goes to the hour lunch. Clocks back in from lunch...repeat process. If he says “I’m going to the bathroom,” I’ve learned that that’s code for “be back in about three hours.” That’s NOT an exaggeration. Well, I had the best and worst of both tonight. The best came when I was assigned the later shift (afternoon to 10 PM...MY hours, yeah!), and the woman was NOT going to be there. She usually works that shift, so I had been figuring out things like...how to look like I’m listening to her inanity while digging a hole in which to bury my head and MAYBE stop breathing for awhile. She wasn't there, so I didn’t have to put such a desperate plan of escape into play. But Tony was there...sort of. True to his seeming nature, he disappeared for awhile. When the supervisor and another GOOD co-worker left for the day, he showed up to do...I have no idea. I know dang sure he didn’t help stock the shelves or straighten/clean the backroom. He was just...there. Then he left. Bathroom, break, AND lunch at one time. Also not an exaggeration. I continued to work, doing with one body (mine) what should be done with two (mine and his). About two hours after he left, I took MY break. I went out to self-medicate (and hopefully to piss of the anti-smoking nuts as well as help destroy the universe with my second hand smoke)...and there he was. STILL on break...or lunch...whatever. I sat next to him, acted as if I didn’t care (I actually didn’t which I’ll explain in a couple minutes), and enjoyed my beloved cancer-causing drug-in-a-stick. He was on the phone the whole time...until...the store manager and his second showed up to also poison themselves and the world around them. Ahhhh... The bosses kill others slowly, too. NICE! That’s when Tony “went back to work.” Uh-huh... Where, I dunno, but apparently he did. *rolls eyes* So, I return from my break, again he ain’t around. Two and a half hours later I went on lunch. An hour and that call to my clone later, I returned. Suddenly, Tony shows up saying he’s been allowed to go home because he ain’t feelin’ too good. *awwwwwww* He asked if I needed anything before he left. I had him fill the potato racks (heavy stuff, those dang bags. So he did, then left. So, basically, the entire shift, I worked everything myself (save for those potato racks. Sucker...) *snicker* I must remind you, it was a VERY busy Saturday afternoon/night. Did I keep up with stuff? Mostly, but SOME things went empty. We have this banana stand thingy that is HARD to empty out. Because there was no one else working that department with me...it was empty twice. Dang, people eat a LOT of bananas, ya know? I got most everything done...MOST. Not all. That sucked. I seriously considered staying an extra hour just to get everything squared away. I decided against it. Why? Because I’m a selfish male tool. Making just over $8/hour, doing the work of two, maybe three, by myself all night. Screw the extra hour. Bottom line, though, is that I actually ENJOYED having too much that I could handle. During our “let’s help kill everyone in the world” smoke break, I actually spoke to the managers (without picking on them this time - no really, I do). They asked how things were going, I gave them a mostly glowing report. I mentioned a couple lazy types, no names, but they knew about to whom I was referring. The store manager actually said something like “we could do something about that.” I thought about that, then asked him NOT to. Here’s why and told him thus: “Honestly, Brian, as irritating as that can be at times, it’s something I don’t think should change. You see, man, I hate having very little to do at ANY time. I’m happiest when busy, bottom line. If I have another working with me who’s not doing the gig, then that’s more for me to do. And that, bossman, allows time to slip away a lot quicker. Plus, Chris, you’re second here, doesn’t get picked on if I’m busy.” They laughed, they agreed - somewhat. And that is a true thing for me. If someone’s being lazy, it’s more for me to do. For a job that frequently has more downtime than I like, that’s a GOOD thing. I get along with Tony, though, so I really don’t care if Wal-mart’s paying him while allowing him to do...whatever he does. He’s not at all negative, jokes around a little, and is pretty nice all around. Miss Downer...the other one...the super-negative, narcissistic one...needs to go, however. Even when busy, I hate working around her. One day, I might snap and just say something short but mean. Piss her off so she leaves me alone. My very young co-worker with that advice is a smart man-boy. *taps temple* I’m warming up for that, too. I try out possible snarky lines on my supervisor (a really really neat person, she is - but only because she thinks I’m funny). One in particular seemed to evoke howls of laughter...from everyone (other than the intended target). “Ya know,” I said aloud. “Whatever man marries that woman WILL end up eating a bullet. Heck, I love life, and I know dang well if I got stupid enough to take up with her I’d be a goner within a week - tops.” Something like that just MIGHT piss Miss Downer off enough to remain far away from me whenever possible. It might generate an official complaint, but since the bosses already know how she is it’d be a mere formality I could live with. Other than those rather touchy things...and the low pay, of course...I actually like the gig. So anyway, I’ve rambled long enough. I really must complete my nighttime routine *snicker* and then turn in to prepare for some exciting Star Trek time tomorrow. Oh, and that little boy, too - what’s his name again? PS - Tor, DUDE! I had no idea you were one of us geeky types. OUTSTANDING! If you like, I can review the thing for ya, without spoilers, and let you know if you might like it. A good rule of thumb, Texan-transplant: if I like it, you WILL like it. Got it? *wink* |
| So, I get a call last night right after getting home from work. It was Cam, my dear little mini-me. He was at the park with his mother and, as he put it, “there’s only adults here.” Depressed voice and all. Three weeks ago, we’d gone out to a local greasy spoon we both really like, and he saw one of his friends. This friend had just turned 9 and was having a birthday party that Friday night. A sleep-over that I’m pretty sure the ex would kill to have Cam attend. Cam was invited, we called to make sure it was okay...it was set. Come Friday, the party and sleep-over had to be postponed. There are several kids in that household, and one of them got sick (right around the time of Ol’ Swiney’s scary appearance, ironically). It was set again for the next Friday (last night) and all was well. Until the day came...ANOTHER of the kids was sick. Hey, it happens in larger families, right? Well, Cam was pretty understandably upset at the news. What I didn’t understand is why Barb (the ex) was a little peeved. “She could have at least called,” she’d said about the other little boy’s mother. I find that odd, frankly. Barb herself comes a family of four kids and two adults who had lived in rather cramped quarters. Woulda thought she’d remember that when one person got sick, pretty soon all others would likely follow...eventually. And that cycle would continue until whatever bug vexing the family ran it’s full course (or two...or three). I diplomatically mentioned that (yes, folks, I CAN be diplomatic), but hey! Y’all know how frustrated moms can get, eh? Her answer to my point was more along the lines of “yeah, yeah, whatever.” Well, Cam had been upset enough to call to ask if I could come get him for...an hour. An hour? Are you kidding? NO! I was nice about it, but not very diplomatic. Barb can coddle him, because that’s how she is. But me? No way. It’s not as if he fell off a bike and survived a fall into the Grand Canyon. It was a cancelled sleep-over. Geez... I pretty much said that...through a nicer tone than I convey now, obviously. I then spoke more to Barb, where I predicted that things would likely improve for Cam’s attitude during things like this once they moved into the house in town. That should be this summer and would allow Cam to walk pretty much anywhere to get to a friends house. Right now, he’s stuck out in the country...literally. Although he now has a new baby brother, Cam’s still pretty much alone. Moving to town this coming summer would rid everyone (including Cam) of most of this particular angst. Barb and I have an amicable relationship, kinda like old friends. Even the divorce was pretty easy (upon which even the veteran judge commented). So it was nice that I could bolster her rather over-emotional worries over the immediate state of Cam’s mindset. I went even further. Come this Friday, Barb will be going in for some kind of out-patient procedure to prevent any more pregnancies. You see, her body makes her a lot more miserable than the typical woman when in that state. It was bad enough when pregnant with Cam, and seemed worse with her latest. I really did feel for her hubby, man - honestly, I did. Anyway, no more kids for her, she says, and this Friday she plans on getting herself fixed. *chuckle* Spade, is how I’d term it. Hey! She’s an EX - I gotta find SOMETHING to be mean about, right? *wink* She had arranged for Cam and the little one (Briley) to be watched over by a sitter while she recovered Friday and Saturday. I happen to be off this Friday, so I offered to take Da Boy for awhile. I work early AM on Saturday, so sadly he can’t stay overnight. Bummer, but that’s the way it goes. I had planned on taking him to see the new Star Trek film that day. Something I think he;d really enjoy (I know I will). However, this new development changed that. I’ll be taking him tomorrow (Sunday) rather than this coming Friday. That kinda sucks, because this is opening weekend for that film, it’s very popular, and I really don’t like crowded theaters. I learned that lesson back in the 1990's when I went to see Independence Day on the very first day of release. Now, I don’t have a problem with people, per se, I just like having a LOT of elbow room. I also like having places to move if I’m unfortunate enough to be seated near someone who likes to yak, sleep/snore, or use the cell phone DURING the film. It should be legal to wipe someone off the face of the planet for that crime...but it ain’t, so I have to find other ways to deal. But, alas, due to the cancelled sleep-over, about which Cam was really excited, I will move the film date with my son up nearly a full week. I will likely also pack a Taser...just in case, ya know? *snicker* I did show Cam the film trailers, and he is looking forward to the film as well as time with Dear Ol’ Dad (as I said, strange kid), so hopefully that will ease his pain a little bit. We’ll also “junk out” quite a bit. The other night we decided to watch another film, and instead of giving my li’l mini-me something good for him to eat, we filled up on nasty stuff. We actually consumed 12 large ice cream sandwiches during that 2 hours (he had HALF). And that’s just an example. So, this Sunday, we’ll do it again only at the theater itself. Been awhile since I had theater popcorn, so I’m looking forward to it. On top of it, the film should be a great action/drama/scifi that I believe Cam will get into (simply because of all the cool special effects coupled with a rousing score). And since it’s a new film, he’ll likely be one of the first (if not THE first) in his class to see it. That matters to him, not me, but that’ll help massage his little narcissistic side that I just cannot get him to control. *rolls eyes* Kids... It’ll be a matinee, so then afterward we can head over to another place to do something he’s been nagging me to do all winter. Miniature golf. Golf is boring to me, to the point of thinking suicide if I have no choice but watch such a maddeningly dull sport (even live). However, Cam makes it fun. Aim for hole? NOPE! He just likes to knock my ball into the weeds. Yeah, that I can live with, eh? It should be a nice day, and the place should be open. So - we’ll go. He only knows about the movie, so to him the added fun with those silly white, pocked bouncing balls will be a major bonus. Hmmm... That last line - didn’t sound quite right, did it? Then again, that’s another reason I’m just not into any kind of golf. Grown hetero males should never play with any kind of bouncing balls. *snicker* Come to think of it, that may be why I’m not into basketball, either. Okay, I’ll cease this now before I get myself in over my head. ARGH! There I go again... BYE! |
| My son... Eight years old, going on 17, I swear. A few days ago, I went to pick him up, and he told me a little story of what happened at school that day. “Dad, Mallory beat me up.” I did a double take. “Mallory? That’s a girl’s name, right?” “Yep!” Apparently, Mallory said something about one of her friends. It was an insult, and Cam laughed. That’s when Li’l Mal did a smack down on my boy. By the end of this short explaination, I was shaking my head. “Boy,” I said. “You gotta understand girls. THEY can insult their pals, but if you even laugh they WILL kick your tail.” It floored me when he replied with, “Yeah, I know.” A sly smile crossed his little face. He knows? Later that night, we stopped off at the local ballpark. It’s baseball season, and he just loves to watch the slightly older kids play. Real baseball fan, that one. There were a lot of kids there, of course, so he ended up playing more than watching. *shrug* Well, I ended up with a real education - my son, the budding womanizer, has NOT changed. Ya see, he and one of his classmate/friend types began to pick on a couple of the girls. Of course, girls around that age have ZERO demur factor. One actually started tossing sticks and literal stones at the two boys, while a second began chasing them. It was really funny watching a girl smaller than Cam chasing him actually shouting out “You wanna be chased? Huh!?” And then that same little girl tried to kiss the boys. *blink blink* *sigh* The pandemonium was, of course, caused by the boys picking on the girls. So, during a break in the mayhem, I stopped the boys, took Cam aside and reminded him of something VERY important. “Son,” I started. “I will remind you whose side I will take IF I ever have an angry dad calling me.” “Mine?” he asked. “No, smart aleck. THEIRS.” So did he tone it down a bit? NOPE! I have a feeling I may have to endure one or two broken noses on his behalf in the coming decade. Anyway, the Mallory thing had me thinking. I couldn’t recall who that was, so I decided to spend the final half of the school day in Cam’s classroom. Really, it was just to set eyes on this Mallory chick. I imagined her to be this bigger than normal 2nd grade girl who rules with an iron fist. Bad attitude and mean disposition complete with fists the size of hams. Imagine my surprise to see she was one of the class cuties, quite kind and gentle, more confident than most kids her age, and only an inch or two taller than Cam. She was a total sweetie! Recess time came and I just had to say something. “THAT’S the girl who beat you down?” I asked. “Yep!” he replied, just before running off to play war games of some kind. “No frigging way,” I whispered to myself. That’s when I knew the real deal, as if the park episode wasn’t enough to confirm it. Just to be SURE, I asked him something on the way home. “Dude, really. Do you pick on the girls just to get them to chase you?” “Uh-huh.” “You LIKE being chased?” “Yep!” Somehow, he gets it. He figured that out all by himself - the reasons why, too. Oh, man...I’m doomed! I can see it happeing in the not too far future. *KNOCK KNOCK - door opens* “Yeah?” I inquire of the strange, seemingly pissed off man. “You Wonch?” he demands. “Cameron’s dad?” “Yeah...” *WHAP - out go the lights* Yeah... I’m doomed all right. It’s my father’s fault, DANG IT! Has to be. He was the player. That’s the reason I even exist (he was married, but not to my mom - get it?). I have the same capability, but my experiences by having a father who only cared about dipping his wick than spending time with his son startyed me down the road of keeping that little part of me under strict control. I still do that to this day, in fact, even though I no longer have a reason to be that way (other than not really wanting born-out-of-wedlock kids of my own). I figured the way I live would actually help balance that talent out in the boy, too. You know - a good example for the little playa... I was soooooo wrong... So perhaps the following should happen just to make myself feel better about MY future beatings from other understandably angry fathers: *KNOCK KNOCK - DOORBELL FIFTEEN TIMES* “What?” cries the by now 86 year old swinger answering the door. “You Wonch?” I ask. “Your bastard child, Michael’s, father?” He leans in close, squinting. “Michael?” he asks. “Yeah...” *grabs old man’s cane, beats the dude twice over the head* “That’s for passing your talent along to your grandchild and then not being there to show him how NOT to act, you old coot.” Maybe I should take bail money, just in case Lansing, Michigan, takes a dim view of elder abuse, eh? Yeah... |
I failed to do something during the last post. I completely neglected to thank VOTE:ObamaDramaOverIn2012:D   for the neato-dandy-awesome-cool (NDAC, for short) ribbon thingy. Apparently she thinks I’m funny... *snicker* Oh, if she only knew.Anyway, thanks! I’ll try not to let it go to my head. *sigh* Alas, there is yet ANOTHER slow news week going on. Completely bored with reporting on the non sequitur Swine Flu, and bringing that silly episode to a close with headlines like “Life Getting Back To Normal In Mexico” *rolls eyes*, the news outlets are now grasping at something even more absurd. Miss California USA - whatever the heck that really means. So this “beauty queen” of that rather purty yet financially broke state was asked a question during the Miss USA pageant...about her views on gay marriage (pro or con?). The question was asked by none other than Prima Donna celeb blogger Perez Hilton. Since he (it?) was a judge, he (it) already knew Miss Cali-USA’s political bent and family background. The question was an obvious setup. Answer to HIS (its) pleasure and get whacked by fellow conservatives. Answer against the flaming H’s desires, get whacked by the almighty, all-accepting and loving liberals. Obviously, she’d be a minority by staying in conservative territory...and that’s exactly what she did. She conveyed the truth as she understands it. It just happened to fly in the face of every person in - well - SoCal. Well, every person that matters, anyway - and that means, dear ones, if you’re famous, maybe rich, and at least slightly aggressive in all the political ideals that DON’T matter. Walk that fine line, Miss Cali did not. *taps finger - thinks - ignores the pain* Why that rebellious chick! How dare she?! So, Mr. (Miss/Ms/Mrs??) Hilton decided to go on a public rampage against Miss Cali, calling her all kinds of nasty names...including that dreaded B word. Classy, huh? Yeah, I think so, too. *shakes head* And people watch this crap? Amazing... Anyways... So Miss Cali gave the wrong answer...BUT...became the runner up. Not bad, really, all considering. Trump might not be giving her a place to sleep, a generous salary, and whatever tiny 15 seconds of fame comes along with the Big Title, but hey! She came in second out of 52 entrants and that's pretty cool. Right? Well...apparently some folks are getting even nastier with this youngster. Ya see, just prior to the pageant this one decided to undergo breast implantation. Yep! Them knockers ain’t the real deal no mo’! So that was reported...and no one cared. So the loving, generous, all-encompassing liberals tried another tact. Apparently, when she was a mere teenie bopper type (that means below 18 to me), she had serious desires to become a model. Now, what little girl doesn’t dream about that at least ONCE in her wee years? She actually tried doing something about it. Well, she made a mistake. A hired gun convinced her to pose semi-nude, using her prime desire (at the time, I think) that Victoria’s Secret might take notice...then hire her to be spank material for the male masses (really, do WOMEN look at those periodicals? Doubt it... *snicker*). Mind you, the pics are not racy at all. Quite tasteful, especially when thinking about in which age we live now. No sexual poses...no implied activities with the photographer or some hired stand-in model type...nope! Nada, ‘cept for she wasn’t entirely clad. At 17... And yet they’re going after HER? What about the hired gun (who obviously had to be male)? How about the photog? Did either of these folks realize she was a MINOR? Have any of the newsies trying to make their bones reporting on powder puff issues considered that? Hmm...? So, the kid might end up losing her “crown.” Any why? Because she stood for her beliefs in regards to the meaning of marriage. That’s where it started, fanned by the flamer Perez Hilton, and now picked up by limp-wristed, weak-minded, wimpy libs who just CAN’T extend their “love everyone” philosophy to those who disagree (about ANYTHING). SHOCKER! Miss Cali made sexy pics! Wow... There’s a reason to destroy her, yeah? Oh, oh! And NOW, she’s signed on to do a commercial (I think) that supports marriage as between man and woman (that means different genders, for you bleeding heart non-thinkers out there). And guess what? She’s being painted as a big ol’ meanie. And people wonder why I give the nickname of Gomorrah to LA and Sodom to Washington DC... *hysterical laughter* Okay, for the record. I am Conservative...mainly. I am heterosexual, which means I must (sadly) put up with the occasional insanity that is woman (thanks, God!) But I do not agree with Miss Cali. I respect her beliefs, and anyone who holds the same such or similar, but I am not on that side. I will NOT say what I believe how marriage should be legally defined. That’s for me and those close enough to me to trust with such information. What I WILL state here and now is that...it doesn’t matter. Really, think about it. How in any way will allowing same genders to marry rip apart family values? That won’t effect me in any way, honestly. I’m still attracted to them female types. There's just something about girly-girls that do it for me, ya know? If I decide to marry again, it will NOT be to a man (girlie or not). As such, my personal values will not change. Family values ARE personal...not societal...so again, how would changing the legal definition of who and who does not wed harm society? For ME it’s between male (me) and female (whomever I dang well choose). It’s not my place to define said institution for anyone else. Except for Fundamentalist Mormons, of whom I am soooooo jealous. Bastards... Even if I do not completely agree with Miss Cali’s stance, I support it. Not that that matters even a little, but still...I do. This particular issue is not worth going to war over...even politically. I would much rather see the governments and the self-professed Fourth Estate set themselves to resolving the current problems within the legal marriages...as in rampant divorces. For example, it should be very difficult to gain a marriage license AND be doubly hard to end said marriage. Irreconcilable Differences just doesn’t cut it, ya know? I mean, women should want to know whether or not the newly divorced man was unhitched because he likes to bully or lay hands on physically weaker and smaller folk...right? Just as likely men would want to know if a woman is a cheater (serial or not). That kind of thing should be available to future marks of either...right? Want to get hitched? Go to pre-marital counseling. A GOOD session or few, too. The kind that really puts your feet into the proverbial fire via realistic what-if situations. Want a divorce? Same thing...kind of. I kid you not - THESE should be addressed even before we seriously consider changing the legal definition of which genders can marry ... whatever. Having children should be regulated, too. Screw this “reproductive rights” BS. We license drivers of automobiles of every kind...we license marriages...heck, we even license FISHING, for God’s sake. But begetting our future, the actual things that matter (children, for those who are lost)? Nah! Go have one, just for kicks! No problem! If you suck at parenting, so be it. We can easily vacate or build a prison cell just for your progeny, complete with 3 hots and a cot, 24/7 protection form undesirable outside influences, AND bodyguards courtesy of the Latin Kings, various Aryan Nations, Black Muslims, or Queenies. The point? Marriage (as it is or isn’t now) and procreation have a direct effect on society and are thus more important to seriously address at legislative/administrative levels. If you’re a jerk, you’re a jerk. If you’re cool, you’re cool. The GENDER issue really doesn’t matter at all...does it? So, Miss Cali...you go girl! Kick some liberal tail! Some of us out here have yer back, baby! PS - I wonder why super-heterophobe Prez Hilton has not attacked Barak Obama in any way. Do you? After all, our current Prez HAS publicly stated that marriage should be legally defined as it is (between man and woman). And yet Hilton, and the sesationalist press, says nothing about that. Kinda makes me wonder...do liberals actually secretly and deep down HATE women as they obviously do "minorities"? |
| One of the biggest irritations to me these days is the US populace seemingly crying, in unison, for government to save them from current economic woes. As much as I poke fun at how people react to mass media leadership, this is one thing that really does confuse me. Yes, we are in an economic downturn. No, we are not in a depression. Yes, things are tight money-wise (but hey, I’m used to that, so the rest who aren’t are big whining babies). And no...we will not be saved by our government. Really, could they save ANYONE today? They can’t even save themselves. *cough cough* Blago... *cough cough* Ryan... *cough cough* Prison... *cough cough* What I fail to understand is how our populace (worldwide, in fact) doesn’t quite get how we ended up in the current situation. Do you get it? Likely not, so I shall explain whether you like it or not. Let’s harken back to the late 1970's. No, I am not about to blame Carter, you ignorant, illiterate Liberal scum. Carter was the very first President to mention one very important thing in regards to our collective and individual economic futures. Reagan was the second...and last...to mention the same thing. Excessive personal credit... I was a wee boy of around 10 years during the Carter years. He was elected and sworn in when I was 9 and left office on the tip of Reagan’s boot-tip when I was 13. I do remember one particular TV address Carter gave. In that address, he used props. What props? Credit cards. The address, part of it anyway, was about how to divest oneself from the credit trap (fast easy money, high unreasonable fees...kinda like today!). He actually encouraged AND demonstrated the perfect way to say “no more of this <bleep>.” Scissors...put to card...use utensil...throw tiny pieces away...call to cancel account. I don’t care what any silly historian says, but I think that public advice was really what prompted his presidency to end at one term. We didn’t really know then, as we do now, that our species’ former Feudal system has not been replaced by rule of the people but by rule of business. The bigger, the more powerful. Why? Money. Not just those who/which earn more, but mainly those who CONTROL the most. And who/what controls the most money at any given time? Banks and other financial institutions (including Wall Street types funds and services). Anyway, Carter left, Reagan came in...and he actually said the same things from time to time. The key to America’s continued financial successes does not only hinge on the financial health of it’s businesses (large or small), but also (and MAINLY) on the financial health of it’s general working populace. Hey, I ignored that advice, too, man. In my twenties I would have sold my soul to Ol’ Lucy for a few credit cards. I don’t recall actually concluding such a sale...but...I ended up with a few anyway. Of course, I had not even a hint of financial training, and by my late 30's I ended up learning a rather harsh lesson. Carter was right... One of my good friends back then actually said something I will always remember. “Mike,” he said without any hint to why at first, “I will never again have a credit card, even for emergencies. The reason being is that before long a movie will become an emergency.” Maybe it because I was going through bankruptcy at the time that he just came out with that. But he was right. He made me think hard enough that not only have I never again delved into the credit thing, but I also came up with a small prophecy (years later) that the personal credit situations of most of us in this nation will end up throwing us into a major financial sector meltdown. We, as a whole, have become greedy and completely self-centered. Need some examples? Just look around... How many times have you been to a poor family’s house that has no less than TWO televisions? They can barely afford food, their cars are falling apart, and their house would look right snug in any given African refugee camp. Yet, they have TVs (one of which might be a huge HD type hanging on a poor excuse for a wall), cell phones, WIRELESS internet, plenty of beer/liquor, and perhaps the latest gaming console? If you can say at least ONE...that’s a lot (multiply that by many more, ‘cause there ARE more people in the world than you, silly). Or, how many times have you seen someone driving a really nice or even cool set of wheels, onyl to see their house is a shack...or worse? How many times have you heard someone complain about high prices, when they’re wearing THE latest fashionable shoes that they just can’t do without? For parents, how many times have you purchased a $200 pair of sneakers (for example) that cost no more than the cheapest rip-off pair? Are you even aware that the rip-offs are really made by the SAME companies using different brand names? Speaking of, how many times did you opt for a BRAND name even though it;s the same dang thing as the no-name product? And how many times have you charged a purchase, promising it’d be paid off by end of that month...only to have that promise to yourself broken without even a second glance backward (until the card’s maxed, that is)? See my point yet? Probably not, so I’ll bring it home for ya... Years ago I stated outright to more than one person that our use of credit will end up destroying the nation as a whole...or nearly so. Of course, this was during the swinging Clinton years, so no one believed me. Yet here we are... Who is really responsible for a person not being able to pay on a card balance if they lose their gig? Or, heck, even if they’re still working but ended up with two or three high balances they cannot afford (and never could)? Would that be the banks or the person who used the cards? On that subject, who’s actually responsible for signing a mortgage without reading or fully understanding the clearly spelled out KEY terms? The company putting a person into more home they can afford or the person themself? Before anyone decries how those terms are spelled out in hard-to-understand legalese, then I have two questions and one statement for you: QUESTION 1: Would you ever sign a contract you did NOT understand for anything simple (like a lawn care service, for example)? QUESTION 2: If English is the only language you can read, would you willfully sign a contract written in another language? Before you answer, consider this... STATEMENT: In every purchase contract the KEY points are how much is paid now, how much is paid until a certain time, how much is paid AFTER said certain time, the various fees/charges/extras, and whether or not there is a “balloon payment” somewhere in the middle or at the end of the contract’s term. These KEY POINTS are clear and easily understood...IF...someone bothers to take the time to read through the thing. Now you may answer... However, as I stated above, we are a greedy, selfish, pretentious, and dependent society. Our status and self-worth are now displayed through status symbols rather than health of the spirit. It finally gets to the point that we can’t afford to quit and we must keep those revolving credit lines open...renewed...or both. Finally, we’re forced to quit, usually by running out of the money we actually earn. Mind you, I am talking about the MAJORITY here...not the few who actually learned how to be financially responsible. Some have...most have not. In all nations from the beginning of humanity, regardless of style of governance, in some things the majority always rules. And in this, general finances, the majority does indeed rule. Especially today. Considering the above, decisions were made by far too many people to overextend themselves. It finally affected the entire nation. So what do we do? Hike up our bootstraps? No... Think about it and make adjustments. Then teach the succeeding generations what we learned (probably the hard way)? Nope! Oh, I know! Enough of us will send up a huge whine to our Federal masters to bail us out! Yeah! And that is precisely what happened. Of course, our nation as it is today is run by elected politicians and their appointed officials. Since WE choose the bosses...and usually do so these days due to the condition of our personal economy...why blame them for doing what we as a whole demand they do? Obama would, I am sure, rather watch the Big Three automakers live or die by their own decisions. Same for the Wall Street hacks who looted their own company coffers. I’m dang sure he;d rather not nursemaid us into fiscal health. Oh wait...what am I saying? That’s precisely what he prefers. But guess why, reader? Because we created the conditions ripe for such people to come in, convince us we can be saved from ourselves...and then...actually use that rhetoric (to great effect) to grab more power. So again - WHO’s responsible? Still stumped? Some are, I’m sure... Try this: “The democracy will cease to exist when you take away from those who would work and give to those who would not.” - Thomas Jefferson Most people attribute this to Welfare. However, remember who wrote this MANY times: there was no welfare beyond private charity in Jefferson’s time. Ponder that for a moment> What was he referring to? Government taxation for the purpose of extravagant spending... However, that can now be effectively expanded to include the general populace as a whole living beyond it’s/their means via any kind of credit for purposes beyond conducting business. Why? Because, just like our government under G W Bush and now B H Obama bailing out big businesses, they also began the process to bail out the little guy. Bush started the “stimulus” talk, got it rolling, and even mentioned doing something about high credit card fees and unaffordable mortgages. Obama is simply continuing that former Bush administration policy. These two are generally assumed to be totally different political philosophies, right? Then why do Democrats and Republicans in power continue one another’s policies ever since the Roosevelt administration? Again, I can answer that for you: because we, as a people, have discovered we can now vote money from the public coffers. Some bloggers here have mentioned that the USA is being destroyed from the inside - however the blame usually stops short. It is NOT the politicians, folks. So who’s to blame? We are. Prove me wrong... |
| My mother... *shakes head but with a smile* I do love her, but sometimes I’m embarrassed at how dang common she can be. I grew up thinking my mother’s high intellect made her a goddess of some sort. One I rebelled against and gave a lot of guff from time to time, but still an all-powerful, all-knowing, and “dang it, how’d she FIND ME?” kind of goddess. That was her youth...or what passes as youth as an adult with two kids. *rolls eyes* How I know THAT feeling. Anyway, as she’s gotten older, she’s become more like a normal mother. Every month, sometimes twice a month, I get a package from her containing a lot of things at which I generally scratch my head. Irritating things, such as: coupons, news clippings, little “hints” on how to figure out the stock market (regardless of my outright stated and very opinionated bias AGAINST playing that rather stupid, risky game), old magazines, and sometimes a few things I can use (such as old photo albums and pistachios). Mostly stuff I end up tossing in the trash (sorry, mom). That’s who my once “above it all and every dang one” mother has turned into. You know the kind, right? NORMAL! Well, a few years ago she discovered the Internet. Limited...as in browsing specific sites, using a PHONE MODEM (do they even make those anymore? - sheesh!), and email FORWARDING! Yeah, that’s right...my once elitist mother is now a common email forwarder. ARGH! Of course, being the secret “good” son, I read them all. Hey! She used to be a grammar school teacher. I have no idea if I’ll have to deal with a pop quiz, eh? So I HAVE to read them. Ya know? *ahem* My mother has become so common that she’s actually giving in to whatever panic the news is peddling each week. First it’s the economy, then it was a possible continuation of stock declines, even more nastiness form the economic sectors, and then...and then...and NOW - swine flu. Earlier tonight (or yesterday, depending on when you’re reading this), I receive a couple of emails from her about the flu. The first was a suggestion I read some book written probably by one of those really boring researcher types *winks at Rainbow* who needed extra cash and some added prestige. This author actually traced the 1918 flu pandemic to it’s origins...in Kansas. What good would knowing that (I already knew anyway *taps temple*) do me? Really, now... That was then. Apparently she musta had the same exact thought, because the next email was about how to protect myself from the Swine Flu. Oh, brother... So, okay, no more jokes (*snicker*). Now that this silly public panic has touched my MOTHER, I gotta divulge something MOST of you do NOT think about. You know that REGULAR flu thing we think we have handled with shots and stuff? You know, the one we take for granted will NOT kill us? Well...lean close to your monitor. I gotta secret to tell ya. *whispers* The regular flu annually kills around 36,000 in the USA alone every dang year. Yeah! That many...every...year. And since January 2009, that li’l ol’ bug we kinda ignore has already KILLED around 16,000. In four months...less, actually. As I said, those are only the US numbers. Now, take this swine flu thing. How many has it killed in the US so far this year? Hmmm...? That’s right. As of this writing, ZERO!! Ol’ Swiney has a looooooong way to go to catch up to it’s Big Bro. A long way... Why don’t we have a panic over those 36,000 poor US-based North American souls dying each year from the normal flu? Glad you asked... Because it’s old news. It does not bring in ad revenue, it would not increase ratings or daily readership, and it certainly will not freak us out enough to wash our hands after wiping our bums (admit it, sometimes YOU forget - say, at home?). As I said in a previous entry, wake me up when Ol’ Swiney has caught up or surpassed it’s even deadlier predecessor. ‘Kay? Oh, yeah - the list of how to protect oneself from Ol’ Swiney? Same dang stuff we SHOULD do to protect ourselves from any other virulent li’l bug that wants to just lay us out and eat away a few days of our already short lives. Wash hands, cover mouth when coughing, wear a mask when around them nasty infected fools who DON’T practice good hygiene...you know, same old stuff. And it’s NEWS? Please... So, after thinking very carefully about it, I sent a short reply back to my worried mom. Roughly, it stated the above numbers along with the fact that Ol’ Swiney has a taste for those in their prime (20 - 40). Since I’m 42, actually shower once (sometimes twice) a day, and am just too blessed to die like that, I’ll be just peachy. Although, I must argue that 20-40 is NOT human prime. Not for me anyway. I’m entering my prime, greying hair and all. To Ol’ Swiney, I say: *flips bird at Ol’ Swiney* Eat one, newbie! You need more training before you can take ME down. NYAH! To my mother: Thanks, ma! I know ya love me, but don’t worry...I’ll be a pain in your backside for at least a couple more decades. *snicker* To YOU: Worry more about the stronger regular flu. THAT will kill you before the rookie does. Ignore the idiots who wring their hands over everything CNN dramatizes. Besides, no flu can kill you, actually. The bug reduces your immune system so that OTHER things can kill ya. Rainbow can correct me if I’m wrong, but really...a flu bug is really a catalyst. Kinda like HIV... As I sign off today, keep in mind all the things that were supposed to kill us and were sensationalized by CNN (et al). By no means is this a complete list. I think you’ll get the point. Hope so, anyway... HIV HEPATITIS B (or A - I get them confused) SUPER FLU AVIAN FLU (???) SARS (might be the same as above, dunno) <enter name of ad selling, ratings getting SUPER BUG OF THE WEEK here> Let’s get real... *YAWN* |
| I have to agree with Tor’s entry today - it seems even normally educational television/films are getting more into fairy tale types of doom and gloom. Heck, even today, the media outlets seem to sensationalize the “what if...” scenarios of a global pandemic AND THEN when something strange along those lines crops up they feed the public panic. The films/shows grab good ratings. And people buy more papers or access websites more often during these “we’re all gonna die” times. Guess what? We ARE all gonna die. Duh! Deal with it... Guess what else? There are nearly 7 BILLION people on this planet. Freaking out when under 200 have died (again, WORLD wide) is just illogical. This new flu thing could kill as many as 1000 (give or take) and it’s still not really much to be upset about. Well, okay - unless YOU or someone you know kicked off. Okay then, fine. But most of us won’t even contract the thing...and even if we do, we’ll be fine (eventually). You’d do far better worrying about getting into your automobile than about this thing. Better yet, worry more about what wars are coming. Trust me, cars and wars kill far more a hell of a lot quicker. More devastatingly, too. Still, people are scared...soooooo...in an effort to lighten said foolish fears, I’m gonna poke fun at the news today. I’ll try to stick withthe headline followed by one of my short smart-aleck quips. Please bear in mind that I did read these stories and know darn well what’s behind them. I will remind SOME of you that this is humor NOT based on the facts - and that there is a point. *rolls eyes* Here we go... SWINE FLU HITS 40 IN THE US - Forty confirmed cases, eh? Let’s see... 350+ million (legal or not), zero deaths so far, and FORTY are ill. Let me know when that number reaches 20,000. WHAT KILLED PONTIAC? - Another native tribal leader? Oh, wait - they mean the car brand. Oops... Um, General Motors did? NEXT! LAPTOPS HELP SICK KIDS STAY CONNECTED - I have a cold, so I;m sick. I’;m typing on a laptop, you are reading this, so we’re connected. Unless I fail to pay the bill, we’ll stay that way. Why do I not have a headline too?? PLUNGE INTO THE GALAXY’S MONSTER BLACK HOLE - No thanks. But may I refer you to my ex? MEMBERS OF CONGRESS ARRESTED IN DC - About f’ing time! Take a wild guess who will pay for the bail... NEWS HELICOPTER FINDS SWOOPING TORNADO - Did anyone inform the pilot that chasing storms with an aircraft is just not all that wise? Betcha he gets a raise, though...so to speak. ALL SCHOOLS CLOSED IN MEXICO - And this makes a difference...how? HISTORIAN GIVES OBAMA AN ‘INCOMPLETE’ - Incomplete what? Term? Geez... FASHION-FORWARD FIRST LADY HITS ALL THE HIGH NOTES - Honestly, I’d much rather she wear jeans and maybe some short-shorts. Maybe a tilted ball cap and dang it! Show that ink, baby! WHAT I LEARNED ABOUT MY HUSBAND IN BED - Um...TMI SWINE FLU COULD SPREAD GLOBALLY - *laughs* Pssssst. Hey, CNN! It already has... SHIP’S COOK SEIZED BY PIRATES FILES SUIT - Would that be in a US court or Somalia? MISSING TOTS RANSACK NEIGHBORS HOUSE - Wouldn’t that be against the Homeowner’s Association Guidelines? How long will those tots spend in jail? HANG ‘EM! SWINE FLU MASK SEARCH IN MEXICO - Masks MIGHT help a little, but mainly it’s human interaction. So...grab an internet connection and forget others exist for awhile. You’ll be fine! IS THE WORLD’S MOST INFLUENTIAL PERSON MOOT? - No, I’m perfectly viable. Thanks for wondering, though. That should do it for now. I am no longer bored and need to go fold laundry. See ya! |
| To Mr. Tor: I have a complaint about your little employer. No sooner did I start working with those freaks I came down with a COLD! I was fine the day before I first reported in, I was just peachy during that maddening day sitting on my tush in front of the computer for 7 straight hours. I was fine for the first two hours of the second day. But as soon as I opened the first IMPORTED boxes...I felt scratchiness in my throat. My ears began to itch. MY NOSE BEGAN TO RUN hours later. That was yesterday. TODAY! Well, today it’s full blown frigging cold topped off with an irritable stomach and...um...frequent emergency bathroom trips (and not the “stand up” kind, either). And THEN I started sneezing...almost continuously. Biological warfare, that’s what it is! Okay, back to reality. Seriously, I do have a cold that oddly coincided with my first day at the place, but it’s obviously not their fault. Probably got it from Cam during his birthday diner. DANG KIDS! *shakes fist in the air* I haven’t been this laid out by a rhino virus in a long, LONG time. The occasional sniffle, yeah, and maybe a couple days of tight throat. But this bad? And this quick? Not for years. And then...just as I make it through the day in preparation for a full day off tomorrow, I log onto Da net and check news (as usual). So...um...apparently the US of A has pressed the “potential panic” button out there in DC (which I not so lovingly will call SODOM from now on). Ya know that Swine Flu thing? Took a few days but it’s world wide and NOT contained. No sure, no proper treatment. It moves REAL fast through a body...and...starts off just like a fast moving flu (which is eerily close to cold symptoms, by the way). New York, New jersey, California, Texas, Oklahoma, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Mexico...likely a lot more places not yet reported or discovered. GEEZ! Them Sodomite politicians are freakin’... out ... man! So of course, I just had to be SURE that I didn’t come down with it somehow. I went through the checklist: Runny Nose - CHECK! Headache - CHECK! Slight Fever - CHECK! (Then again, I always run a little hot at all times *snicker*) Sore Throat - CHECK! Watery Eyes - CHECK! Fatigue - CHECKI! (Then again, I’m poor working class with a dang near GODLIKE IQ and under a lot of financial stress ... hmmm ... we’ll count this one anyway) Normal Techniques have ZERO Effect - CHECK CHECK!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! At this point I really did begin to wonder. That is until the next item on Da List. Loss of Appetite - NOPE! And then there was the REALLY strange part the befuddles our “turns out we’‘s still kinda ignorant” scientific crowd. This Swine thing? It’s affecting the 20 - 40 set far more than anyone else. Most viruses (virii??) Usually wipe out infants and elderly folks (you may interpret that as Boomers in this case *snicker*). Since I turn 42 tomorrow, I’M SAFE! *flips bird at whomever created the stupid new virus, sneers* EAT ONE, terrorist swine!! So, sorry folks - I ain’t dyin’. I did note, however, that officials everywhere are really worried. I have no idea why, really. If the only social groups being affected are those 20 - 40, wouldn’t eliminating them be a GOOD thing? Think about it... No more Britney Spears ... no more 30-something greedy wusses crashing our economy just to grab themselves a few good years ... suddenly we have plenty of EVERYTHING ... no more Global Warming crap ... reduced expenditures supporting communist education institutions ... Hollywood films would LIKELY improve ... so would books ... and music in general ... no more Nirvana fans (god please make it so!!) ... cities will become quiet (er) ... sudden glut in QUALITY housing ... no more stupid unnecessary extras on cell phones ... the Windows OS might actually stabilize ... liberalism in general would wane at least until those surviving infants grow up (and then it’s ON again, baby) ... Somali pirates would pretty much die off by themselves ... and so on. See my point? So why the panic? No matter what happens, it’ll be a GOOD thing. Right? *ahem* *sigh* If you start feeling a bit under the weather, no panic necessary. Just drink LOTS O’ LIQUIDS (water, silly) and get a truck load of snoozin’! No really, it works. Unless you live in an under developed nation ... then you’re pretty much hosed. If that’s the case, adios amigo! Been nice knowin’ ya... If that’s NOT the case, see ya whenever. PS - might be a really good idea to refrain from pork for awhile. Hey! You never know... |
| My son’s 8th birthday was last Thursday. Eight years...has it really been that long? Geez... Seems like only a year or two ago he poped out into the world and gave me The Look. “Oh, man. YOU’RE my dad? Great...just great.” We actually have a picture of that look. Classic... Anyway, after some eats, we all sat down for the obligatory cake. In between bites, for no particular reason, Cam pipes up about what he learned recently in Sunday School. “Dad, did you know that the Earth is only 6000 years old? Anyone who says it’s believes Satan’s Lie.” I gaffed a bit, then gave him the “Oh no...he didn’t” look. My reply? “Who says?” “My Sunday school teacher.” “Did she present you any proof?” “It’s in the Bible!” “Show me...” At that point he just gave me a befuddled look. I knew he wouldn’t...or couldn’t. Fact is, is ISN’T in the Bible. There’s not one word about the age of the planet. The holy book begins with HUMAN history - that’s it. Not a word on where in the planet’s timeline God decided to plant the seeds of sentient life. I could tell by his expression that Cam really wasn’t ready fro such a serious conversation, But hey. The Church started it, and I will finish it. And I use logic and science rather than simple word of mouth belief. My son’s pretty danged brainy, so I will not tolerate that kind of ignorance. Still, I couldn’t TELL him that isn’t the case. No, that would put me at the church’s level, and I do consider myself above any man-made religion. So, I turned toward him a bit, leaned in, and took another tact. “Look,” I said, “how old the planet really is we honestly do not know. It doesn’t matter anyway. The planet’s age has nothing to do with your personal faith or beliefs in God. Does it really matter to you?” He thought about it. “No,” he finally said. “Right. So really, what you believe about how we got here is totally up to you. Discovering and growing your faith is more important than silly subjects like that. It doesn’t matter if you agree with what the church teaches or not.” “What do you think?” he asked. “About how old the planet is?” “Yeah.” “I think Satan lies more through religious organizations than he does through scientists. But it’s what you choose to believe that matters. That’s up to you and no one else. Ever. Listen more to what God tells you than what other people say.” That was that, and the thing is...he actually understood. I will state for the record that I am a Christian. I do believe. What’s more, I have Faith. To my understanding Faith and belief are two totally different things that CAN compliment one another. Or...they can conflict. I chose Christianity, no one chose it for me. For ME, that’s my personal path to commiserating with God...and the continual discovery of self. I do NOT believe mine is the only path, it’s just the one for me. After years...decades...of serious reflection I honestly believe that “Satan’s Lie” comes through those who pontificate that their way is the only way and all others will burn forever. How macabre... The path to God, no matter what it is, is a personal choice. Period. I am not of the mind to debate Biblical canon with anyone here. I have my ways and that’s that. No one will change my mind. The thing is, is frightens me that churches all over (regardless of religion) are filled with people who will take to heart anything and mostly everything stated from the “pulpit.” “If the pastor says it, it is so...” Oh yeah? Okay, so be it. What would you think if your pastor said a marital union between blacks and whites was unnatural? Hey, that used to be the case. And sometimes, still is. What if said pastor told you that burning those thought to be “witches” is okay? Used to be the case, too. In some places, still is. Our religions overall have always failed us in one key area: listening is done with more than the ears. Listen only with the ears and we end up, eventually, falling for authoritative smooth talkers...or those who are simply charismatic. Logic actually serves religious beliefs and true faith more than people think. And that’s something I do want to pass on to Cam. Believe in God, not man, and your faith will grow. It’s really that simple. As time goes on Cam should end up with enough information to make a final decision on the matters at hand. But there are a few simple things that he can understand right now: 1. Dinosaurs and humanity did NOT exist together. Ol’ T-Rex didn’t suddenly decide to turn meat-eater just because Eve ate from the tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Want non-scientific “evidence?” Had that been the case, woulda been in the various holy books, right? Duh... After the expulsion, why would God waste an angel and a Sword of Fire to guard the entrance of Eden when a dumb ol’ group of Raptors would do just fine? Double duh... 2. God can affect us with a thought - Satan cannot. Ol’ Lucy must convince us to go astray on our own. THAT is the big difference between the two entities, honestly. One can do “magic,” the other can only talk you to death (so to speak). As such, Satan did NOT place magically created bones of the pre-historic beings for us to discover. Even if it did have that ability, what would be the point? 3. Regarding the holy books being perfect as is and to be taken literally...well...the answer there is obvious. If there is any room for debate then it’s open to interpretation. Duh... Additionally, such discord actually distracts followers from the main point: faith and personal growth. Hence my contention that the religions are used far more by that ol’ Devil-dude than even atheistic scientists. 4. Some scientists are believers...far more than the churches disseminate. And for some odd reason, they have ZERO problems resolving their discoveries of the evolving ecosystem with their faiths. Imagine that! 5. Anyone who says they know what God meant by certain actions, natural disasters, good occurrences, or passages form any given holy book is in direct violation of the Second Commandment and possibly even the First. Period. We are human. How can we POSSIBLY know God’s mind? To think so, even a little bit, actually puts self and humanity in general above God. Hence the violation of the First. That would be, obviously, vain: violation of that Second. Bad move for anyone to do, and absolutely disastrous to those who choose to follow such a person. 6. Belief stems from being taught or learning through reading various literature. Faith stems form practical application. They are two different things, but can work together as much as they can conflict. So how old is the Earth? No human really knows. Who cares? The personal relationship with God is what matters. How does that even remotely hook in to the planet’s age? Belief is about looking back. Faith...is about the here and now as well as the future. Having the courage of those budding convictions is the key, regardless of what they are. Rather than telling how things are, teach people to think and allow them their decision without any form of judgement. And THAT, my dear friends, is how one single man can fight an established religion...and do more for a child’s spiritual growth. I will not allow any given religious establish educate my son without parental guidance on the side any more than I do the public schools. They tell...I teach. Hopefully he’ll eventually get the point... Only GOD know for certain...we just guess and muddle through as best we can - hopefully through faith. |
| Well, just to recover from a very harrowing 3 months of pretty much total unemployment, I accepted a position at...now get this...Walmart. Yeah. I have now joined the nearly 2 million US-based folks who work for the retail giant. And...um...I guess that means I’m now a “corporate brother” to Tor. Why did I even apply? Well, after the first month (for which I was prepared) it started to look kinda bleak. Over 70 resumes/applications sent out - ZERO call backs. I have never gone through that before...EVER! I guess the economy really does suck, eh? There was another reason. As much as I enjoyed waiting tables (no, I really did - it’s one of the few positive things in which I excel), the only other gigs like that which would pay anywhere near were about the same amount of milage away. That means I’d be again traveling 60 - 80 miles one way to work. Honestly, as much as I love to drive, in my current financial situation it just doesn’t make sense to do it on a regular basis anymore. So I heard WM was going to replace my town’s old 7 AM - 10 PM store with a Super Center. That would make it 24/7 and would only be a scant 2 miles away from where I currently reside. So if anything happened to my old beater van, I could just WALK to work. So along with all the others, I applied with the local store as well as the two in and Kankakee area. Sadly, my town’s store is pretty filled up at the moment. As usual, this rural burg (which I dearly love otherwise) is pretty crap on jobs. Well, duh... Otherwise I wouldn’t have been working in Orland Park, would I? So I heard nothing from Watseka’s store...but did from Kankakee. What I call “Kankakee” is actually a trio of smaller towns that join together as one - Kankakee-proper, Bradley, and Bourbonnais. The strange thing is Kankakee is poor, Bradley is middle class, and Bourbonnais is upper middle class ro upper class. Very clear distinctions. Well, anyway...I digress. The Kankakee area has two Super Centers - which really makes no sense, but there you go. Kankakee has one on the south side of the Tri-Towns while Bourbonnais has the other in the north. I work at the one in Kankakee - which is good., It’s a mere 28 miles from my front door. I have effectively cut fuel costs by half - or more. Sure, Walmart gives out crap pay for mere rookies like moi. However, once the calculations are done, it evens out to be roughly the same take home for me. Maybe a little less, but the lighter drive round trip gives me more time to add a second regular job if needed. THAT was the main reason for my accepting the position (even after another restaurant about 80 miles away called - which I turned down after a few days of serious thinking). So WM calls, I go in, and in one day end up with three interviews. No kidding. I figured I’d go in for one, possibly schedule a second for a day or few later, and that’d be it. Nooooooo. Three within an hour. Up the chain, too. Little department manager, some other bigger supervisor type, and then finally one of the facility’s “co-managers.” I guess they have to have two or three managing the dang place. Why I have no idea... Then again, I really don’t know how their organization is setup...yet. Due to my last two experiences in the job market, I learned to ignore the rank and file and how they interact or act, and I chose instead to look right at management and organization. Such things are very much apparent if looking for them. At first glance it seemed...organized. The management all across the board (I met more than those initial three since then) seem well trained, organized, AND non-abusive. That last one is key, especially after the Lobster experience (loved everything but the management styles). In short, these managers do not seem as self-centered and power/money hungry as the ones I’ve gotten used to over the last few years. That’s a good thing... I did mention my past um...record. You see, since my little court history does involve a little tiff over copyright matters (music related), I figured they’d best know the details right off (not just the short answer I gave on the application and follow-up paperwork). Walmart is not only a major music retailer, but they are also now a major DISTRIBUTOR. The most recent recordings from AC/DC, Eagles, and Journey (for example) were released exclusively by the store chain. Know what they said when I tried to explain? “That isn’t any of our business.” Um, okay then! Of course, about 3 weeks later (after I figured I wouldn’t be hired), they called asking for details. And for that very reasoning, too. *rolls eyes* So I made is very clear - bootlegs, not piracy. That was the conviction, and I proved it as well as put you in contact with the proper authorities who still know me by first name... An additional 2 weeks passed...I was SURE I didn’t get it. Then as I was leaving an interview for restaurant mentioned above, they called. So I went in for Orientation. I’m completing my first actual week now, and so far it’s really not too bad. I think I can last long enough to transfer to the Watseka center once it opens. After that, heck...I may just park that old van and use it only when necessary. Gonna take a bit to get used to their daily meetings, though. Meeting I do not mind. In fact, I prefer knowing what’s going on, yeah? What I can’t quite get into is that dang Walmart cheer. Oh, yeah, AND there’s this little thing the people do when ANYONE addresses the meeting. “Good morning, everyone,” says whomever (no matter the rank). “Good morning, <name>,” everyone else says in unison just prior to clapping twice, stomping once, and then shouting “WOO!” Gimme a break... A simple “Morning, <name>” would do. *chuckle* I guess I’m goign to have to play along, though. It;s a corporate culture, I ain’t gonna be able to avoid it, and honestly...after what Darden (Lobster’s owners) put their staff through it really won;t be much of a problem. Some thing about this store do confuse me, though. The corporate structure as a whole, for example, is really REALLY concerned about employee breaks. Particularly lunch. At Red Lobster, we rarely got one - a break OR lunch. Unless we asked. Even then we either got a guilt trip or lost our section for about two hours while others worked it in our absence. At Walmart we’re actually THREATENED: take your lunch BEFORE your 5th hour...or we execute you. Skip your lunch for ANY reason and they will discipline. After three violations, no matter who you are...yer outta there! Forever. *laughs* I’ve never been threatened to TAKE a lunch before. Geez. I can deal with that, too. Another thing that vexes me is...OJT - on the job training. They just put you in and let those round you help you figure it out. And usually, it seems, those coworkers have no idea you’re gonna be there until you are there. Overall, so far so good. The people with whom I work are good, for the most part, one isn’t, but the others are. The gig they gave me is fine, aside from the fact that really...there isn’t all that much to do. They allot 8 hours for three or four people when one or two will do in that time frame. Then again, having too many people to do the same job is far better than not having enough - especially when things come up and one or more are pulled to work elsewhere. I do really like their management setup though. It’s more along the Chain-of-Command kind I really prefer. AND, the majority of them came up through the ranks. That I really like...and it shows (so far, anyway). Alright, anyway - one thing I don’t like is they seem to ignore a persons need for sleep. I worked until 6 last night - which means after I get home and do my normal routines, it’s about 11 PM before I can even think of sleep. Unfortunately, I’m scheduled for 4 AM this morning, which means I couldn’t chance sleep. Hopefully this is just a training thing, giving me a taste of the different shifts. Still, I think I may mention it anyway (nicely, of course) in case they just weren’t paying much attention to how they organized the thing. Once or twice a month, fine. Every week? No frigging way. One thing’s for sure, though - no matter what this place demands I be a morning person. I haven’t been that in a long, long time. As logn as the schedule evens out, I can handle that, too. Work is work, especially right now. Speaking of, it’s time for me to light out. Coffee up!! yuk... |
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