From my Soapbox ... this will just be a minute!

I usually keep my blog post pretty light-hearted and not too controversial. I am going to try and do the same with this one … BUT I GOTTA VENT!!!

I see on the news that a Governor from a state I won’t mention (but it rhymes with Rhode Island) thinks that we should now call it a HOLIDAY TREE. Are you kidding me? Hey ding-dong, we call it a Christmas Tree because it’s a DECORATION for Christmas! A HOLIDAY tree would be something you get for any holiday … c’mon kids, get in the car we’re going to cut down our Independence Day Tree! I think not Gov’ner!

Now before anyone jumps down my throat and argues the whole “separation of church and state” let me say this… On December 25th you don’t get your mail delivered, the state offices are closed and anything “governmental” is shut down. So you can take your “separation of church and state” argument and toss that right out the window. Yes, December 25th is the celebration of Baby Jesus’ birth, but from all of my Sunday school classes I learned Mary was visited by three wise men … nothing about a fat guy in a red suit with reindeers! Religion has been so far removed from the Christmas celebration; which in itself is disturbing to some people but I have to pick my battles here. What Santa and Rudolph have to do with the birth of Baby Jesus makes about as much sense to me as what a bunny hiding eggs has to do with celebrating his resurrection!

I went to high school in a predominately Jewish town, because of that we got all of the Jewish holidays off from school. Was it because the Jewish people wanted us to celebrate their days and conform to their religious beliefs? Nope, it was simple math … MOST of the students wouldn’t be in school due to the fact they were celebrating their Jewish holidays Sooooooo, they closed the schools! Was I offended as a non-Jewish person, being forced to take a day off for something that didn’t pertain to me? Uhm, NO … it was an extra day off people! When my Jewish friends would say to each other “Happy Hanukkah” did it make me uncomfortable? Nope… in fact I am sure I uttered those same exact words to many of my Jewish friends. To be honest I’m not even fully clear on the meaning behind Hanukkah, but why should that stop me from wishing my friends who did understand Hanukkah a happy one?

Now I am not saying it’s the Jewish people behind the “Holiday” tree thing … I don’t think my Christmas Tree offends any Jewish person nor does their Menorah offend me. No it’s not the religious people complaining … it’s the people that just need to bitch about something complaining. These are the same people who believe every kid should get a trophy in Tee-Ball. Our world has become to “mushy-mushy let’s all sit by a fire and sing Kumbaya”… oops, wait … that’s a religious song huh? Wow, how insensitive of me! I say bullshit, stop giving every kid a trophy!

I played sports as a kid. I played baseball, soccer, basketball, hockey and football. Hell, I even wrestled in High School. But do you know where I spent most of my time during these “sporting years”? On the bench! Why? Because I sucked for the most part! I played Little League baseball and I was afraid of the ball; makes it very difficult to hit or catch the thing if you close your eyes every time it comes within 2 feet of you! Soccer I played when I was really young and running around the grass after a little white ball just never appealed to me (until I started playing golf, but that’s different, I can drink now!). Basketball I played during middle school. Let me just say I was 5’4” until sophomore year in High School … now you know why I sucked at Basketball. Hockey was a High School sport I played but at the time in my life I was more interested in hitting people… I had the checking down but the puck handling and skating backwards I just didn’t have a knack for. I ended most seasons with more individual penalties than I did individual points! Football I was actually pretty good at and wrestling was the perfect outlet for me… I actually combined the two sports during my last football game! What’s this got to do with anything? Nothing really, except for the fact that with all the sports I played I never got a trophy … and I was OK with that!

Oh, and since we are on the topic of sports for a second I would like to add that if I was running towards the end zone about to score the winning touchdown … you can bet your yellow flag throwing, “don’t taunt the other team” preaching, Mr. “I don’t know how to use my common sense” refereeing ass I’m throwing my hand up in the air! I think that kid should have just told the ref he was so excited he was going to score that he started to piss himself and out of habit he just raised his hand to ask for a bathroom pass!

But I digress…

The point I’m trying to make here is that, as a society, we have become too soft. We spend all this time and energy trying to make everyone happy and feel accepted. That’s not reality folks. Reality is this country is a melting pot with a wide array of people who all have their own thoughts and beliefs. Some are widely popular, others not so much. That doesn’t mean one is right and the other is wrong, it just means we think differently! If it offends you that we are lighting the lights on a Christmas tree … don’t come to the tree lighting, stay home, I won’t be offended! But please, for all things that exist, stop with this Politically Correct bullshit already, will ya? I can’t keep up with it any more.

It’s 2011 and I’m not sure if I should refer to my buddy as a black guy or African American or is he a person of color?!?! I have an Irish name but I am actually Italian … should I refer to myself as an Italian American with Irish influences? Wait, actually maybe I should say I am an Italian NORTH American with Irish influences. Don’t want to offend anyone in South America. But wait, what if I moved to South America and became a citizen and had kids? They would be an Italian-North American-with Irish influences-South American, right?

Let’s do this, let’s make things simple for everyone … how about you just pay attention to what matters to you! If my Christmas Tree offends you don’t look at it! If me wishing someone a Merry Christmas offends you, don’t listen to my conversation! If it offends you that I call you black then tell me what it is you would like to be referred to as BUT STOP CHANGING IT! If I accidentally refer to you as Puerto Rican only to find out you are actually Dominican, Sorry! That’s an honest mistake and there is a good chance I will make it again! The same goes for any Chinese, Japanese or Koreans. I’m not being insensitive I just can’t keep up with all of the politically correct bullshit that is constantly changing!

Oh, and if your kid sucks at sports don’t be pissed they didn’t get a trophy. Use that opportunity to teach them that if they want something in life they have to WORK AT IT! Maybe even explain to them that not everything is for everyone. Maybe sports just ain’t their thing! And if your kid IS good at sports and wants to celebrate the fact they just got the winning touchdown, then let them throw their hands up in the air (even let them say “AY-O” if they want too!), let them know that it’s OK for them to be proud of their accomplishments. Sure, there will be kids that are sad because they lost … but if they don’t suffer the agony of defeat they will never truly enjoy the thrill of victory.

The kids I went to High School with had their Menorahs and I had my Christmas Tree and we all got along just fine. So please, stop giving all the kids a trophy, let my Jewish friends celebrate with their Menorah, my black-Africa-American-People of Color Friends celebrate Kwanzaa if they chose and let me enjoy my Christmas Tree. You? You go out and have the best of whatever it is you chose to celebrate!

Merry Christmas!

Old dog ... and awkward moments!

Have you ever heard someone ask the question “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”… Of course you have! But I honestly think no one has ever actually SAID that because, although I have heard the question asked many times, I have never heard anyone have an answer.

You actually CAN teach an old dog new tricks … if by old you mean early 40’s and if by dog you mean ME. I continue to learn new things every day. Some I am even fortunate enough to learn the easy way, but most … well most come the hard way. As I sit here listening to the rain come down I decided to sit down and share some of the lessons I have learned and, more importantly, HOW I learned them … enjoy!

Anyone who has ever worked “on the road” knows that one of the most important aspects of your job is to know where the cleanest and easiest accessible public bathrooms are located. If you tend to work in one general area you will know where most of them are and no doubt you will find one that becomes your favorite. I had one of those, a favorite public bathroom.

This location was centrally located, always clean and had plenty of stalls so there was never a wait … important characteristics in the world of public bathrooms. I can honestly say I actually learned many a lesson in this restroom; like YES, .63 cents is enough for some people to come back and knock on an occupied stall door to retrieve … but that is another story for another blog. Today I want to share with you the day I learned a bunch of new things in just one “sitting”.

It was mid-day and I had just finished a good lunch. Now it was time to pick up the newspaper and rest … hey, they call it a restroom, right? Now as I sat there reading the paper it happened … the lights went out! So here is a list of things I learned that fateful day:
1. The motion activated light switch in this particular bathroom shuts off after 15 minutes of motionless.
2. Public bathrooms become VERY dark when the lights go out on you.
3. It is impossible to throw enough toilet paper over the wall to try and re-activate a motion detecting light switch, crumpled up newspaper doesn’t work either.
4. When a complete stranger walks into said restroom, thus activating motion detecting light switch, and sees a bunch of toilet paper and newspaper strewn all over the floor then hears me exclaim, from the end stall, “Oh, thank God” … well, this will always lead up to an awkward moment!


Let’s move on to another lesson learning adventure shall we? Working in a customer’s home one day with a fellow co-worker and in order to get to where we needed to get we had to navigate around these porcelain statues the customer had all over the room. As my co-worker was attempting to squeeze into this one spot he accidentally bumped into one of these statues. This one was in a glass case, stood about 3 feet tall, was dressed in a red robe and had a white face with bright red cheeks. As I lunged to catch it from falling I yelled out “Watch out, don’t knock over the clown!” This is the day I learned that there is a religion that actually has a God that happens to look like a clown, and I also learned that when you call someone’s God a clown, they become very irate. Which I can understand, because I see it as the equivalent to someone seeing a picture of Jesus on your wall and asking “Hey, who’s the hippie?” … again, another awkward moment!

One trend I see in my life is that often speak before I think. Like the day I had a customer ask me if I could move her TV for her. I explained that my company did not allow that and if I was to move the TV and it broke I would personally be responsible for it, a risk I wasn’t willing to take. I then went out to my truck to grab some tools and when I came back into her apartment she was carrying the TV into the living room. Being the concerned individual that I am I said “You shouldn’t be carrying a TV when you are pregnant” … anyone want to guess this lesson learned? Yeah, never, ever, never assume a woman is pregnant! Unless she actually says to you “I am pregnant” just assume she is fat and keep your mouth shut. Oh, what happened next? Awkward moment!

As I think I have demonstrated in the above stories; you can teach an old dog new tricks … but 9 times out of 10 the lesson will end in an awkward moment!

Turning 40 ... and my tickle spot!

This morning I had to go for an Eco-Cardiogram and as I sat in the waiting room I began to reflect on how much my doctor visits have changed in the last two years. So I think it’s only fair that I start this post with a warning: IF YOU ARE A MALE UNDER 40 THERE MAY BE THINGS IN THIS POST YOU FIND SHOCKING AND MAYBE EVEN DISTURBING! If you are a male over 40 then you know damn well what I am about to talk about is TRUTH! If you are a woman of any age you may be pissed off once you realize how easy we actually have it at the doctor’s office.

When it comes to the doctors guys have it easy. Really the worst thing we have to deal with at any exam is the “turn and cough” routine. Other than that it’s the usual breath sounds, blood pressure, pulse and the pressing on the stomach. OK, I will admit I am VERY ticklish and the stomach thing always gets me, very embarrassing when I start giggling during an exam. But there it is … that is the extent of our physicals. UNTIL WE TURN 40!

At age 40 is when the doctors want to start poking and probing around other areas of your body. They call it “preventive measures” … which I think is so ironic because for the past 40 years I’ve been preventing that very area from being poked or probed by anything!

Now before you start to call me immature let me remind you; I STILL GIGGLE WHEN THE DOCTOR PRESSES ON MY BELLY. I know that because the first time a doctor pressed on my belly I giggled. THAT’S how I found out about THAT tickle spot … This isn’t the time in my life I want to find out I have “another tickle spot” … I can’t imagine me starting to giggle at that particular time would sit well with my doctor.

OH, here’s a “The more you know” moment for the younger readers: If your current doctor is a big guy and has hands like and NFL linebacker … get a new doctor before you turn 40! (Insert NBC’s jingle “The more you know…” here). You are Welcome!

Now some people may say I got lucky because when I went for my exam the doctor decided it would be best for me to have a colonoscopy due to some issues I was having with my stomach. So in lieu of the poking and probing, he was going to send me for a colonoscopy. That triggered some mixed emotions for me. It was like watching my ex-wife drive off a cliff in my brand new BMW… I was relieved yet sickened at the same time!

If you have ever had a colonoscopy then you know the worst thing about a colonoscopy is the PREP. If you have never had a colonoscopy then you should know the worst thing about a colonoscopy is listening to people who have had a colonoscopy tell you about how awful the prep is going to be for you. In short? IT SUCKS! Let me explain…

First you have to drink this disgusting mixture of water and what I can only describe as CHAULK! Then? Well then the fun begins! When I had to drink my mixture I had a good friend standing next to me yelling “drink, drink, drink”. This is funny, because 20 years ago he was more than likely standing beside me screaming the same thing as I chugged a bottle of Tequila. Chugging a bottle of Tequila and chugging a bottle of “the drink” both have the same end result … they just come from opposite ends!

The doctor that performs the colonoscopy is called a Proctologist. As I was waiting for my procedure to begin I started to wonder … who goes to medical school and says “I wanna look at butts all day”? Not to offend anyone, but my guess is a Proctologist is the guy who was just about to fail out of med school and the school said “Hey wait … we need a butt specialist”! But I digress…

Yes, the prep is the worst thing about a colonoscopy. See, when you have a colonoscopy performed they knock you out. I remember lying on the bed and the nurse saying “OK, we are going to go to sleep now” and I said “I really think one of us should stay awake” … and that was the last thing I remember. Next thing I knew I was laying in a recovery room with a nurse standing over me saying “OK Mr. Lynch, all set … I just need you to pass gas and then you can go home”.

Passing gas is something I have never had a problem doing … I’ve just never been able to do it on demand and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to start now. It was time for me to use a skill I perfected in middle school. As soon as the nurse stepped outside the curtain I stuck my right hand into my left arm pit and LET IT RIP! I wasn’t standing on an aircraft carrier or nothing, but I felt like I had a banner over my head that read “Mission Accomplished” … it was time for me to go home!

From what I understand I am free and clear from any poking and probing for another 10 years and my Eco was painless. If you’ve never had one of those it’s just like an ultrasound they give a pregnant lady, except of your heart. The pictures are pretty neat too. I actually asked for a copy of one … I want to send it to my ex-wife, for years she told me I didn’t have a heart and now I had medical proof I DO!

My Brain Defrag Post!

They say a brain is like a computer … or is a computer like a brain? Either way, they are alike. So this morning when I walked into the kitchen and couldn’t remember what the hell I had gone in there for I decided it must be time to defrag! You know when your computer gets bogged down with files you don’t use any more and it starts to run slow? You delete files you no longer need and then let the computer “reorganize” itself. I decided it was time to do that with the old noggin.

I know a lot of stuff, admittedly, most is useless information. And although the useless stuff is interesting to throw out at parties I believe it’s taking up space needed for useful information; like what the hell I went in the kitchen for this morning. So in my infinite wisdom I decided if I wrote down some useless information, stored it on the information super highway, I wouldn’t need to remember it any more. I could let it go and free up some memory space. Not sure it will work, but what the hell!

I have always been a fan of “phrase origins”; you know, why we say the things we say. For instance, way back in the day they had a tendency to bury people who were still alive. Now I can only assume it was by accident, but it was a common occurrence. So what they used to do was run a string down to the body in the grave. Above ground that string was then attached to a bell. If the “dead” person woke up they would simply pull the string, which would ring the bell and let everyone know they were still alive and needed to be dug up. These people became known as “Dead ringers”. It was also someone’s job to sit in the cemetery all night listening for the bells … it was called the “graveyard shift”.

When I was younger I worked as a tour guide at the House of Seven Gables in Salem, MA. It honestly was one of the best summer jobs I ever had. I even played Nathaniel Hawthorne during the Haunted Happenings for Halloween. Back then I had to put powder in my hair to make it look gray … now? Not so much, it’s all natural!

Working at the Gables I got to meet a lot of interesting people and also got to learn a lot of interesting “phrase origins”. I have been holding onto this information far too long and I think I need the space in my brain, so it’s time to write them down and let them go … careful, you may learn something here!

Back in the Hawthorne days beds had ropes that held the mattress up. These ropes would become loose over time and you needed to tighten them. You would then use what they called a bed key to tighten the ropes... that is why we “Sleep tight”. Also, people would gather leaves, grass clippings and other yard waste materials to make their mattresses. Of course these all had bugs in them as well, so it’s best to advise someone to “Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite”.

Have you ever referred to something or someone as being “dead as a door nail”? You can thank the rich people from the 1800’s! Nails were very expensive back then so if someone wanted to show how wealthy they were they would pound nails into their front doors. The more nails, the more money they had. Of course poor people couldn’t afford nails so at night they would go around to all the rich people’s homes and steal the nails from the front doors. To prevent this from happening, the rich people would pound the nail half way in and then bend it over into the surface of the door. Now the nail was virtually useless … and considered DEAD.

Oh, and speaking of poor people … when nature called they had to run out to the outhouse, even in the middle of January. Rich people could afford to have a “chamber pot” that was stored under the bed. When nature called for them they simply slid it out, answered nature’s call, and slid it back under the bed until morning. Poor people would have to face the elements and trek to the outhouse because they couldn’t afford “a pot to piss in”. Rich people could also afford to put a second floor on their homes, and that’s where the bedrooms were. So in the morning the youngest child or servant whose job it was to empty the pot, would simply open the window and dump the contents out the window. Poor people couldn’t afford that so they didn’t have “a pot to piss in OR a window to throw it out”. I’m not 100% on this one, but I’m pretty sure the phrase “heads up” may have also been coined sometime around this period.

Well, that’s all the “defragging” I have time for right now. And, I’m drawing a blank on other “phrase origins” that I’ve stored in my head. I’m sure they will come to me the next time I am standing in the kitchen asking myself … what the hell did I come out here for!

Drinking ... A true story (or 2)

I like to drink! In fact I am enjoying an ice cold beer as I type this. It’s not a bad thing as I consider myself a responsible drinker. Some people can’t drink… well, they CAN but they shouldn’t! Those are the people that can’t handle their booze, I like to call them amateurs.

I think people that drink get a bad rap in society. For instance if I was to sit down and drink 23 beers in one sitting people would say “he probably has a drinking problem” … BUT, if I was to sit down and eat, say, 23 hotdogs, those same people would give me a crown and call me the National Hotdog eating Champion. So with that being said, I’d like to crown myself the National beer drinking champion. Now I will even go as far to accept anyone’s challenge who wants to un-crown me … I may not win but we’ll have a hell of a time getting there, am I right?

My drink of choice is simple, I’m a beer guy. I drink beer. I don’t mind a nice cocktail every now and then but when I’m gonna get my drink on I stick to beer. I can’t stand wine and actually have no idea how to even buy it … I like to keep things simple and wine just has too many rules and names I can’t pronounce. I used to like to drink shots of tequila but when I’m drinking that I usually ended up fighting or flogging all night, then I got married to my first wife and spent all night fighting about not flogging so I gave up tequila. See, told you I was a responsible drinker!

Also, beer has never really gotten me into any serious trouble or bad situations … can’t say the same for tequila. In fact my 1st marriage was the end result of one too many tequilas! I got drunk one night, asked this girl to CARRY me, she miss understood and thought I said MARRY me… next thing you know I’m walking down the aisle with Satan’s Sister. Since that day me and Jose Cuervo have not been friends!

Now I don’t want to say that beer has not gotten me into some pretty sticky situations … actually I WOULD like to say that, but I’d be lying. But they haven’t been BAD situations, awkward at times sure, but never bad. When I drink beer I become happy … very happy. I tend to tell people how much I love them over and over again. In fact if you ever want me to do something best bet is to ask me when I’ve been drinking, I ALWAYS say yes! I can’t count how many times drunk me has made a promise for sober me that hung-over me would have never agreed too! But really, is there anything better than a happy drunk?

Another thing about me when I drink … I come up with the BEST ideas. Granted, I usually can’t remember most of them the next day, but if I could I am sure I would have been a millionaire by now. With the BEST ideas also come the not-so-best ideas, which unfortunately I seem to have no problem remembering. Let me share a few with you now…

I’m going to guess it was around 1992ish. I went to Florida to visit a friend from High School. We went out drinking, I drank beer and around 1:30 in the morning I decided I wanted to go bungee jumping. Let me remind you this is Florida and YES they have bungee jumping places that are open at 1:30 in the morning, don’t ask me why. I make the announcement that I want to go bungee jumping (another trait I seem to inherit when I’m drinking is I become loud … it’s really hard to say you missed something I said.) Here is how THAT conversation went:
ME: I want to go bungee jumping!
My Buddy: WHAT? WHEN?
ME: Yeah, now! While I have the courage!
My Buddy: Someone just died last week doing that, the bungee snapped!
ME: OK, THAT’s the place I want to go to … I’m going to guess they have the newest bungee in town! But if we get there and they have the thing tied in a knot, I wanna try another place!

Now I don’t know if you have ever been or seen bungee jumping in a city. It’s not like they show on TV, over a nice big body of water and you jump off a bridge. No, it’s over an air mattress and you jump from a crane! Isn’t it amazing what people will do for some excitement? Off to the bungee jumping place we go!

Before you are allowed to jump you have to fill out all these releases and legal paperwork saying you won’t sue them if things go bad. At least I THINK that’s what they said, I really didn’t read them I just signed them and awaited my turn to plunge off a perfectly good crane, strapped to what I was hoping was the newest bungee in town, over an air mattress that looks as if it’s only really going to be good enough to keep my remains located in one general area if something went bad. Then I have this conversation with the guy who works there:
Him: You ever do this before?
ME: You mean people do this twice? WHY?
Him: You afraid of heights?
ME: I was until about 6 beers ago!
Him: Oh, you’ve been drinking?
ME: Hell yeah, no frocking way I’d do this sober!
Him: Oh, you can’t jump if you’ve been drinking.
ME: That’s OK, I don’t really plan on jumping … more like falling!
Him: No, I can’t let you go up there if you have been drinking, you have to be sober!
ME: Serious? C’mon, how sober do you think the first asshole to tie a giant elastic to his ankle and jump off a crane really was?
And that is where my bungee jumping adventure came to an end. There is NO way I would EVER do something like that SOBER, that’s just crazy!

This next story has nothing to do with bungee jumping, but it does involve me climbing up on something. I’m beginning to think I also like to climb when I’ve been drinking. Which really isn’t all that smart … just means I’d have further to fall.

I was on a weekend away in Maine with some friends and of course we went out drinking. As we all know Maine is known for its lobsters, anywhere you look you see lobsters. Keep that in mind as this story progresses. So there I am with friends in Maine doing the bar tour thing. Hurry to this bar for a few drinks, go to this bar for a few more and so forth and so on. Now it comes to be about 1am and we are leaving our last bar and heading back to the hotel room. Good time to mention that I have once again been crowned “National Beer Drinking Champion” at this point. I am happy, loud and full of great ideas. As we walk out of this one bar I see it, in all its glory… a giant metal lobster statue type thing. It was like the skies opened up and the angels sang to me. Thank goodness for modern technology because I pulled out my phone and handed it to my buddy and said “Here, get my picture” then proceeded to run towards this lobster like a kindergartner towards his mom after the first day of school.

I think my buddy thought I was going to stand under the lobster, or maybe pretend his giant claws were grabbing me or something lame like that. But no, I had bigger … GREATER IDEAS… I’m gonna climb the damn thing! Oh, did I forget to mention it was pouring out? Minor details to the National Beer Drinking Champion! As I begin to mount this monstrous lobster statue I realize water makes metal slicker, so I remind myself to be careful. I may have even said those words out loud, but I’d be damned if I was going to let that stop me!

I made it to the top, KINDA, and my buddy got the picture. And then I hear this: “Hey, get off that effing lobster” and I think there is a pretty good chance he’s talking to me… and in fact he was. So I respond “Sure, no problem” … that was a lie! It was a problem! My shirt had become hooked onto a shard of metal and I was sort of stuck. I mean I tried to slide down, but my shirt wouldn’t let me. I would have to somehow climb further UP to release my shirt. Now I try, in my nicest way, to explain this to the over-grown gentleman whose job it is to protect the over grown lobster, but he didn’t seem to really be concerned about my shirt.

It took me a few minutes to try to “free” myself from the lobsters “grasp” of me, and as I was doing it I really wasn’t paying attention to footing or the “slickery-ness” of the wet metal. Before I knew it I had lost my footing at just about the same time the lobster lost its “grasp” on me and tumbling off the lobster I went. I landed unhurt laying on my back with the giant lobster-statue-watching guy glaring down at me. I will admit, not one of my proudest moments. This is our conversation:
Him: Serves you right you asshole!
ME: (still laying on the ground) You put a GIANT METAL LOBSTER outside of a BAR and I’M THE ASSHOLE?

I got to my feet, picked up my torn shirt and what was left of my dignity and walked away … but I rode the lobster!

And here is the proof!

Hey, Have a good weekend and remember ... please drink responsibly!

They gave me a Top 5!

So as I sit here watching Hurricane/Tropical Storm Irene do her thing I decided to check on the blog. After clicking around I found out that my blog actually has “stats”. This is where I can find out which one of the posts hase been read the most. It’s like a TOP 5 LIST. Pretty neat so I thought I’d share it with you (plus it’s an easy way to get out of updating! LOL)

The most read post on my blog, according to my stats page, is the 3 part series “Ahhh the great outdoors... as seen on Discovery”, my hunting camp adventure. If you would like to read it make sure you start at Part 1 then there is Part 2 and of course the conclusion, Part 3.

Coming in second is the Dunkin Doorman, an adventure I had one day in Boston.

The 3rd most read post on my blog is my stab at Internet Dating. Which, after re-reading just moments ago, I ran into the other room and gave Michelle a great big hug and told her how much I am TRULY thankful I met her? It’s a scary world out there Charlie Brown.

My dislike of all things Hands Free lands in the 4th spot.

And completing the list of the top 5 most read posts on my blog would be my observation of jogging.


Well it looks as if the worst of the "storm" is over and the only devastation here at my house is that it seems to have sucked the motivation right out of me... which really I don't find all that devastating. Seems like to perfect day to snuggle up on the couch with Michelle and watch some cheesy movies.

Stay safe everyone!

Jobs... No not Steve, MINE!

As I stood there this morning watching the Keurig do its thing I couldn’t help but feel the anticipation of a fresh brewed cup of “Breakfast Blend” crossing my lips and filling my body full of the caffeinated motivation I so needed to get the day started. Then it happened, the Keurig malfunctioned and I only got ½ cup of the above mentioned, much needed motivation educing caffeine. Damn it, why can’t things work the way they are supposed to work?

As those thoughts ran through my head I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I bet I have one, maybe six, ex-bosses that at one time or another said the exact same thing about me”. We all like to think we are the best employee a company has ever had and I am sure more than one of us has looked at a fellow co-worker and thought “I do the job so much better than them”. All of this may or may not be true, but that doesn’t really matter to us. It’s what WE believe to be true that counts, right? Sure, until evaluation time comes around. Then we are told what we lack and what we need to “work” on to better ourselves, some companies call this “opportunity”. It’s them saying “You suck at time management but you have the opportunity to make it better”. Sure I do, but I also have the opportunity to keep screwing off and getting paid … now which opportunity sounds more enticing? Am I wrong? How many of you are reading this right now at your desk? See, screwing off is so much easier!

My first job right out of High school was making picture frames in a plastic factory. OK, I didn’t actually “make” them; I just sat there and counted them as they came off the machine that actually made them. Not the best job for a hyper-active kid with undiagnosed A.D.D. and an attention span of about 3.5 seconds. I was getting paid to pay attention to the machine yet I spent most of my time not paying attention to the machine. I would wander off and talk to co-workers, shop at the wall of vending machines or try to learn Vietnamese from the guys who were responsible for putting the finished product into shipping boxes. I’d like to take this time and say if you ever had a picture fall off your wall or a frame completely fall apart on you … sorry, good chance it came off of MY production line. As the Vietnamese packagers would say; không phải vấn đề của tôi (not my problem).

I should also mention that this job was a 3rd shift position, so there was always a good portion of my shift spent sleeping at my picture frame producing machine. One night I was fast asleep and the picture frame making machine decided not to work the way it was suppose to work. This is a bad thing when both the machine and I decide not to work the way we were supposed to be working at the same time. As I was dreaming of Debbie Gibson (hey, it was the 80’s … leave me alone) the picture frame making machine was spewing plastic carnage all over the floor. I was rudely awakened by my boss, who we called “Z”, screaming at me and trying to get to the emergency shut-off button (which was completely sheltered by pieces of plastic that resembled anything BUT a picture frame). That was my last night as a plastic-picture-frame counter. I actually asked “Z” why he was firing me and he said “Because you were sleeping” and I said “I wasn’t sleeping, I was praying!” … he didn’t buy it!

Sleeping on the job seemed to become a trend for me, which I think is understandable on any 3rd shift job but hard to defend when you are working 1st shift. Although I did learn something from that night at the picture frame factory … I don’t ever want to be woken up by someone yelling at me ever again. Now that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to sleep, it just meant I had to find a way to get the message to whatever boss I had that yelling was not the answer, no not the answer at all!

During my days as an E.M.T. I slept A LOT on my shifts. Look, you give me a bed in the back of my ambulance … and I’m the asshole for using it? I just considered it "using the tools that were provided for me to do my job", and the only proper way to use a bed (with your clothes on) is sleeping! But I was smart, even pro-active one might say. I actually would pin a sign to my chest that read “Attention Supervisor: ONLY wake me if you are sending me home for sleeping …If you are going to write me up for sleeping please let me sleep and just leave the form. I will sign it when I wake up. Thank you”.

Believe it or not I was an E.M.T. for just over 5 years and anyone of my former partners can tell you at least one story of me sleeping through a call, falling asleep in the hospital waiting room or responding to a “call” that was actually only a dream I had. It was becoming clear to me that I needed to find a job that didn’t afford me the opportunity to sleep, a job that had me always moving and interacting with people, something that would constantly stimulate my mind. So I became a radio Disc Jockey! My first on-air job was at an oldies station. I left the medical field and became a full-time D.J. playing the hits of the 50’s and 60’s. Yup, I went from playing with dead people as an EMT to PLAYING dead people as a DJ. And I also found that I seemed to like jobs that had initials, which was convenient because I suck at spelling.

Something I also came to realize is any job that has “initials” usually doesn’t have a great pay scale, unless of course the initials are PHD or CPA, but those jobs required way too much attention to detail for me to even consider. If you actually took the three hours it would take you to read my complete resume you would see that I have had a wide array of jobs. Some may think that this means I can’t keep a job, I disagree. I think it shows that I am versatile and able to easily adapt to any situation. Hey, if management can spin my short comings as “opportunities” than I think I should be able to spin shit too! Don’t get me wrong, I love to work and I am a hard worker … it’s just sometimes I don’t work the way I was meant to work. So, much like one, or maybe 6, of my past bosses have done with me … I’ll give the Keurig another “opportunity” to get it right!

LOSING... a twisted look

When you LOSE something, for the most part, it is never a good thing. Ever notice how you can never “lose” something in a positive way? You can’t “lose” a cold and nobody ever says “Hey, congratulations on “losing” cancer. You can “beat” something and then lose it, but for the most part you can’t just LOSE something and have it be a good thing. The first time you lose something is usually the hardest. I remember the first time I lost a job (OK, I didn’t really lose it… I knew where it was it was just when I went there someone else was doing it!). The first time is always the hardest but you learn how to cope. For instance I have only been fired from one job in my entire life. All the rest I left on a mutual agreement, they said get out and I said OK, so it was a mutual agreement! Ahhh, the cleverness of coping!

There can be good things that come from loss though. If someone loses something and you find it for them then that is good. As I child I learned this early on. One day my mother had lost her car keys and was going crazy looking for them. I happened to find them for her and she was so happy she bought me an ice cream. I saw the benefit in finding stuff for her right away... so I started hiding her shit around the house and then “finding” it! Eventually the rewards petered off and I would then just hide shit for the sole enjoyment of driving her up a tree. It truly is an amazing thing my mother never put me up for adoption!

There can also be good things that come from you losing things. For instance I lost my first wife (OK, I didn’t really lose her… I know where she is it’s just when I go there someone else is doing her). Now that I think about it my marriage is the total opposite of my entire theory for this post. Finding my first wife was a bad thing for me but losing her was a good thing. So there are some exceptions to the rule of losing!

One thing people are always happy to announce they lost is weight, no matter how minimal the weight lose, people will be more than happy to tell you they lost it. I have a problem when someone is all excited about losing 2 pounds, because to me that’s the equivalent of taking a dump. Try it, next time you feel a really good one coming on, weigh yourself before and after. I’m not a doctor but I bet you will lose a pound or two! But I digress…

Have you ever noticed when someone loses something and then finds it they always say “it was in the last placed I looked”? Well, no shit! You FOUND it why would you keep looking for it? Now if you find something in the FIRST place that you looked then I have to ask, was it really lost? People are too quick to announce they lost something. How many times have you heard someone announce “I lost my keys” and in the same breath say “Oh, here they are”. If they had just waited another second I wouldn’t have had to roll my eyes at thought of helping them find their keys.

Another thing that bothers me that people say they lost is a loved one. You don’t LOSE a loved one when they die… depending on your beliefs you should know exactly where they are! Some believe our souls go to heaven, some believe our soul’s just roam the earth and some even believe we get 90 virgins. Whatever your beliefs are you should know where your loved one has gone, therefore they are truly not lost.

We all have something we lost that still lingers in our minds to this day. For instance my grandfather gave me a ring with a “B” on it when I was about 7 years old. I left it on a tray in McDonald’s and accidentally threw it away. Of course I didn’t realize it until much later in the day, but I still remember losing that ring. I even remember the McDonald’s I lost it at … it’s the one on 114 in Peabody.

There are some things you can lose and never find again… a parking space close to the mall entrance at Christmas time, the “big one” while fishing, a golf ball erratically hit into the woods, or my “B” ring given to me by my grandfather. Another thing you can lose but never get back is time. For example, I lost an entire morning writing this post and you lost about 15 minutes reading it!