Cashiers and Counting

When I was a little kid I wanted nothing more than to be a "service station man" like my dad. At that time he had a full serve service station and shop. This was in the days where the service stations actually worked on cars, not just sold you stale Twinkies and flat diet coke. My glorious achievement was reached by the age of thirteen when I started working at my grandparent's gas station part time. At first I was cleaning bathrooms and stocking drink machines. Later, when I was older I was a cashier. Now this station wasn't a convenience store. We sold cigarettes, gas, and oil. That's it. That's all. If you wanted a hot dog or slurpee, then you went somewhere else. Being a perfectionist, I decided the best way to be a cashier was to never need an adding machine. We didn't have a cash register, just a cash box, and  a calculator. And calculators are for people who can't add. Now I'm not saying that I was perfect, or that I never made any mistakes but the more I worked, the better and faster I got. Finally the truth was that I really didn't need any mechanical device to make change. This little diatribe may sound inane and basic. I promise, it's not. Go to your local fast food restaurant and when the bored looking, pimple faced, pervert behind the counter says "$10.26 please.", hand him a twenty, two dimes, a nickel, and a penny. Watch as the little bastard stares back at you in disbelief as if your the dumbass who doesn't know what he is doing. These little pubescent rug rats no nothing about money, or making change, and they have a damn machine. All they have to do is push buttons! Yet even with all of this technology at their fingertips they still will look at me in wonder until my heads spins around, the vein in my forehead sticks out, and announce to them that they owe me $10.00. Once they have been given the answer, you know the one that required half a second of thinking to process, they are usually happy and continue on to the next poor sap. But sometimes, sometimes there are the brave few who want to argue about how much you gave them, and how you are wrong. I know I know. You shouldn't take advantage of the weak minded, and yes I'm and arrogant asshole, but if you're going to be an ass to me then it's game on! I know you make minimum wage, and your life sucks, and your girlfriend is cheating on you. But I don't really give a shit, at least, not if you're going to insist on being rude. I think of it as doing my part for humanity. I'm simply pointing out to the world all of the future IRS agents, before they realize their inner dreams and set out to personally destroy you, and me. So next time you buy fast food, do the world a favor. Give them a test, and let the games begin.

It seems that some people in the outter edges of my life have decided to judge me. Not for something I have done. Not for something I may have done. Simply for the fact that I belong to a certain organization. An organization with great historical roots. You see, I am a freemason. It is something I am very proud of. I am very proud of the things we do in our community and the lifelong bonds I have made with the men that I have met. I carry no shame wearing a Masonic ring or having a Masonic sticker on my vehicle. I consider this affiliation quite an honor. However to certain people, this is not honorable. These people are unknowing, close minded, persecutors hiding behind what they have read in the national enquirer or seen in conspiracy minded television shows. So, my invitation to you is this. Step out of the shadows you seem so comfortable hiding in. Open your little mind just a little bit. Try and spread love, instead of intolerance. If you can do these things, perhaps we can be friends, the way God intended. If this is to much to ask of you remember one thing. What you say about me, and the rumors that you spread, say nothing about my character or the man I am. They only prove that you believe yourself to be perfect. Becauses after all, " he who is without sin should cast the first stone.". This is the first, and last time you will have my attention. I'm waiting.

Where are MY kids???

Today is Tuesday. For most people, the second day of the work week. Fortunately, I was off yesterday. In fact, my wife, kids, and I spent the whole day together. Well kinda. My daughter who is eleven, thinks she is 19. She has developed the attitude of a woman scorned, without being scorned. My wife assures me this will get worse before it gets better and let me just tell you. I can't wait. What was once my beautiful little girl is now some evil entity residing in her ever maturing body. Just yesterday her attitude cost her, her friends, her phone, the computer, and anything else I could think of. Her response, "I don't care." Great. You don't care. Well I do care, and I'm the boss! Needless to say she spent most of the day and evening in her room. My son..... My boy! My boy is nine. My boy is into sports, farting, and eating. All things manly. He's also a big computer gaming guy. But not anymore.... Just yesterday his mom and I overhead a conversation he was having over the phone with one of his buddies. Then out of nowhere we heard him tell his friend he couldn't go onto this gaming website anymore one that I have to pay for because he was banned. My wife called him into the room we were in and asked him about this. "Why were you banned?" she asked. To this he replied something about some kid being mean and cussing on the website. To this she replied "Ok, but why were YOU banned?" Again he said something about a boy cussing to which he was then asked what did he say? He wouldn't say, so he was asked again. Then he was told to spell it/ "F U C K." My wife went ape shit! He was immediately chewed up one wall and down the other and promptly sent to his room. Throughout all of this I stayed very quiet, for two reasons. One, I was doing the best I could not to laugh my ass off. Two, I knew at any moment the rage that she had boiling inside of her could, and would, be rightfully directed at me. After a few hours, and a few "I'm sorrys..." both children were allowed to come back into the living room and spend good wholesome quality time with us the parents of the fucking year. So beware out there all you moms and dads. One day your sweet, loving, innocent children may disappear to, leaving you to ponder what the hell you did to deserve this. As for me, I'm just glad to be at work today!

The holiday before Christmas!

Halloween is upon us. Well, within a couple of days. It's a great holiday on it's own, without being overshadowed by Christmas decorations. Yes, they are already displayed in all their grandeur in the local stores and hey. I'm all for capitalism, but let's give the devil's holiday it's due justice! I mean when else in the year can snot nosed little rug rats get all dressed up, knock on the doors of people they don't know, and demand shit? Tell me, when else? Not only is this behavior accepted, it's actually encouraged and rewarded. Now my wife and I (at least for this year) still take our little demons out trick or treating, so we're not at home all that much. But, nevertheless, when we are at home, we give out candy too. We both really enjoy seeing the kid's costumes who come to the door. Some of them we know, some we don't. Some we're glad we don't. But here is where my problem comes into play. The older kids. If your old enough to stay at home by yourself........piss off. Don't knock on my door. Go bother somebody else. You're not cute, and your not welcome. I'm not giving out seconds, and I don't care about your brother's cousin who couldn't come because he's in jail. Tough shit for him. And don't ring my doorbell after midnight. There is a real possibility of me meeting you at the door half naked and armed, if you do. This would undoubtedly guarantee a speedy retreat on your part. Oh and one more thing. If see you stealing any candy from any deserving little carpet crawlers, I will whip your ass, with your plastic candy toting pumpkin. So Happy Halloween, and I'll see you out there!  

I don't know about you, or the rest of the world. All I know is that I spent quite a bit of time looking for who I was and where I fit in. I thought of it as all poetic and shit. You know. Man searching for himself. The one true good soul in a world of corruption. OK, ok , ok. Yes, I did watch soap operas when I was a child. My mom made me and that is the story I'm sticking to. Anyway. I did alot of aimless wandering and pouting and basically thinking nothing. Along my path there were many different medications, shrinks, and diagnoses. Then one day, a light came on. I don't know if it was God, some form of higher power, or just a general terror of continuing on the same path that I was on. The path that was obviously leading nowhere, in more ways than one. The light I am referring to wasn't some blinding ray from heaven, just a simple idea. The idea that maybe I wasn't supposed to figure out who I am. Maybe I was supposed to figure out who I'm not. This was easy at first. I had amassed quite a list of things that I had done that I was not the least bit proud of. It became obvious to me that I, at the very least, didn't want to be the kind of person who did those types of things anymore. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't a rapist or bank robber, but the person I was, was not the person I wanted to be. Other things took more time to notice, and therefore change. This process has not ended yet and I hope it never does. Today I am still not the person I want to end up being.The guy I am now is not the one I want immortalized on a piece of granite in a graveyard. Not yet. Right now I'm just one more asshole trying to get by and be the best he can be. I have a nasty mouth, but I don't litter. I may not shave every day, but it's not because I was hung over and forgot. My kids may not be perfect, but they are perfectly mine. I used to tell people that I didn't give a shit what they thought. That wasn't true. It is today for the simple reason that you may know who I am better than I do. All I know is that for me, It is irrelevant for me to figure out who I want to be. I just have to figure out who I don't want to be.

How to stay married

Fourteen years ago today I married my best friend. My favorite person in the whole world to pick on and aggravate! We have been through many different trials and hardships since then. Yes, most of them were caused by me. What is amazing to me is that not only has she put with an enormous amount of bullshit from yours truly, but that she at least seems to still love me. I know. It is amazing! While we have had our share of tough times, I'm sure they number no more than any one else's. We have however, been truly blessed by the most wonderful children in the world. Over the past fourteen years we have laughed, cried, and fought. And all of this we have done without separations, custody battles, or restraining orders. I wouldn't say that life is always a barrel of roses. In fact there are often an abundance of thorns. But life is life, and the most I could ever ask for is to share it with my best friend. My wife has kept me sane, nourished my strangest ideas and dreams, and somehow tricked me into sobriety. For all of these I am eternally grateful. I can only hope that I have been half the spouse that she has been. Now before you start crying your little eyes out into your coffee I feel it is my pleasure, nay, my duty to offer up some advice. My maternal grandparents were married for over 51 years, and I had the pleasure of hearing my grandfather answer this question on numerous occasions. When asked "How can you stay happily married for that long?". His answer was simple, effective, and has served me well. "I just say yes mam."

I am connected. Connected to the world, the web, to everything. I am hooked up, turned on, and logged in! I have a Blackberry that keeps me constantly updated while I am on the go. I have an Ipad for ease of use while waiting, or wasting time, anywhere. I have a laptop and home pc gracing my humble abode. All of these stream dsl wirelessly through my network at home. I am connected. It's not difficult to guess that I, like a lot of men, am into techy things. I want the latest and greatest and fastest. With all of these connections comes an almost strangely secure feeling. The feeling that if anyone in the world ever needs me, I can be found. The trick to this is that I said "I can be found.". You see, It's real simple. I don't wear a collar and I don't need a leash. There is no one in this world that has any type of right to know where I am at all times. All of these things are for my pleasure, not yours. If you call and I don't answer, it doesn't mean the phone is dead. I might just not want to get off my lazy ass and answer it. If you email me, You'll probably eventually get a response. And for god's sake if you post stupid shit on my Facebook page then I will more than likely have one less dumb ass friend. I think that more and more of us feel that we have to answer the phone, or respond to whatever summons we receive simply because it makes us feel important. Some one wants us. Oh joy! There is some poor sap out there needing us for something! Well paint my lips and call me pretty. Next time your phone rings do me a favor. Think about me, and don't answer. I'm not saying to not address your commitments. But lets get real. If you're sitting on the couch, with your wife snuggled up, and the movie going, then that is what is most important. The phone, text, email, and online chat rooms can wait. I promise, all those little problems will be there in the morning. Oh shit! I gotta go. My phone is ringing!