State of the Union

Here's a snipet from an article I found on a major news network.

WINONA, Minnesota - A woman wants abuse charges filed against an acquaintance who was pet-sitting for her potbellied pig and allowed the animal to get fat.
Michelle Schmitz said her pig, Alaina Templeton, weighed 50 pounds (22.7 kilograms) when Schmitz left her with a co-worker who offered to care for the animal in February, when Schmitz went on medical leave to recover from ankle surgeries.
Nine months later, the pig weighed 150 pounds (68 kilograms) and it took veterinarians 4 1/2 hours to surgically remove the animal's collar, the Winona Daily News reported. Officers are investigating whether Alaina was abused by the sitter's neglect and overfeeding.

Ok. I guess things aren't all that bad in our corner of the world. Are we really this detached from planet earth that this makes news. Here's a headline, "Giant Pig feeds starving community"

Don't get me wrong the idea that this animal had to suffer is wrong, and this person should be prosecuted. But how about the person who was dumb enough to employ this person to feed said piece of bacon. I am trying to remain detached as per my love of ham. Forgive me for belonging to PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals). Recovering from ankle surgeries? Hmmmmm. I wonder about those ankle surgeries.

As we speak People die. For causes. Just and unjust. Beliefs. Patriotism. Cruel misfortunes, all part of something way bigger than the pecan that rattles in between my ears impersonating a brain. Still we find time to mourn Bacon.

So I figure, we are either severally detached, greatly in denial, or largely stupid. Probably some mix of the three.

Is the world a worse place than ever before? Or is the media coverage better? Is anyone in politics not evil by definition? If not, can they survive?

We are on the thresh-hold, some would argue, over the threshold of very SERIOUS times. I don't know if anyone knows the Global state of this World. I know its hot were it shouldn't be, and that scares me. Polar bears swim more for fun than necessity at the Zoo. I can't speak for Alaska.

I know that every time an oil baron farts either here or in the middle east; gas prices go up. Still Exxon posts record profits. So who is suffering from the strife? Not Exxon. Which only leaves You and Me and our big HUMVEE'S. Hmmmmmmmmm. And people still wonder how to vote? Or if they should vote?

These are serious times. Kids go through metal detectors to get to class. They can't afford books. Books? We can't educate the kids to the problems, which becomes further moot, if they can't read. Are we ignorant just because? Is it learned? Genetic? I don't know, but I bet more people watch Professional Wrestling, with their kids, than many other programs. Hmmmmmm. I wonder? Ever day we lose more jobs, and more people suffer. Again. Who? When leaders at large corporations don't see that big bonus, do they say, "maybe next year"? Or does middle management take a downsizing hit to fleece another golden parachute.

The more I type, the further that pig goes out my locus of concern. As I sit here, grateful to have a job. Maybe even a skill, I wonder about the rest of us. Us being the planet. I wonder what if we could develop initiative to develop programs to help. To feed. To educate. Not necessarily kill. Or kill better. Or my favorite still, Kill Cleaner. What is a Dirty Bomb? If we can make a dirty bomb, or a clean bomb. Can't we feed kids.

Some people may read this and say, "listen to the liberal" "listen to Mr. pansy". I write this, and I don't feel too much like pussy. I feel frustration. Frustration at a system that has let people down. Good people. Bad people. People.

And as I write this. Bear in mind. I write this with the blood of those that came before me, so that I would have the freedom to write this.

In closing History may speak well or ill of the past and even the present. Still one thing remains unchanged and is self-evident. Greed is not a good cause, nor does it bear the fruit of good consequences.

Yeah... but I got a bat.....

Its All Hallows Eve. Pumpkin hunting season is in. Time for our Annual solstice to celebrate all things chocolate and creepy. So we are trying to be good neighbors, and to participate and make this holiday fun for the kids etc.

We did some decorating. You know spiderwebby, scarecrowy, kind of things. Well we got this neighbor. Of course there's one in almost every neighborhood. Not to take anything away from this guy; cause as per Halloween he's it.

He has turned his yard into a cemetery. Bats, Buzzards, Zombies, Grave Stones, you name it. He's got a gate encircling the yard with the bars bending such that it looks as though the dead have made a hasty return from the after-life. Its cool. Usually people incorporate such zest in Christmas decorations. Not him. I don't recall if he puts up a wreath. Maybe he should put a sign up with a little devil saying "He's the reason for the season".

So I got this bat. It flies. In a circle. Its not real or trained. Its just battery powered and flies in a circle. Oh and its eyes glow. RED. SCARY RED. Makes me feel sort of inadequate in a costumy Halloweenie sort of way. But then maybe he's just over compensating for some Necrophilia issues. Yeah, that cheers me up. I feel better about me. And my bat

Alrighty then...........

There is a part of my blog dashboard that shows other blog titles being updated. I won't share some of the titles, but lets just say that I won't be petting my cat for at-least a week, or shopping at Walmart in isles 4-7-9-10 and hardware.

Today is one of those days when my job is just hard. Just hard. Its hard to help people when you aren't sure if they are getting the help they need. I got some good feedback from some people today which is always nice. I'm not in the positive feedback business. But even positive feedback makes me wonder if I can be doing something more useful. Or helpful. Or sleepful. I hate not sleeping. I miss sleep. Hate call. Miss sleep.

I was talking to the nicest lady today. She leaned over to me and said, "you have a shit job". Hilarious. I laughed. God as my witness. I love that term "god as my witness". "Your honor we would like to call God as the next witness". "I God............. So help me. Me"

Anyways she did mean it well. She was just expressing an awareness of how trying my work can be sometimes. Honestly, it made me laugh. It was the smile I needed to keep my day going. To keep doing what I do.

As long as I have my smile. My sense of humor I will do this. When the humor goes. I believe that will be the end. As long as the people I care about are glad to see me, I will continue my Golden Retriever like existence.

Still Crazy after all these years

I have always been too competitive. Always. So tonight, after a high stakes game of C league hockey, I left the rink insensed. Insensed. I am dumb-ass. I should be greatful for my health and blessings, and I'm pouting like a two year old because I didn't win. I didn't even play all that bad. But not good enough to win. And I think the thing that chaffes me the most, other than my infantile behavior, is that I made mental mistakes. Never lose your cool. Goalies never lose their cool. If you lose your cool. You lose. We lost. I acted like a jerk. I shook everybodies hand and all. I wasn't rude. But I was distinctly pissed.

I did share some dialogue about this with my wife. She confirmed my jerkness. Oh well. Shoe fits, wear it.

I still maintain that you should drink life to the fullest, and in doing so some glass gets broken. Still a lot of Joy.

Compelling

So I am watching this movie, "Stranger than Fiction". Compelling. This fragmented story, which I imagine got panned, is compelling to me. It is rich in language, narrative, and vibrant with life. The exploration and growth the character goes through is so cool to me.

There is this scene where the female lead, makes cookies, for the innocuous male lead. It is pure art. The subtleties. The darkness outside. The rain. The communication and body language between a perfectly captured (played) IRS auditor and a sensuous rebellious anarchistic heroine who loathes all that her opposite displays. Is magic. You watch as these characters interplay across a table of one cookie, and one glass of milk. It is absolute pure romance. The chemistry just shows a slow warming, which is awesome.

I love this movie. I haven't even finished it yet. Moreover, and this is the beauty in the eye of the beholder thing. I can totally see people not getting this movie at all. To me it's a movie that says WOW, go out and celebrate life. But I can totally see people saying, What a waste.

There are those of us in life (no better no worse), who cry when Kevin Costner asks his dad, "Do you wanna have a catch?" In Field of Dreams, and then their are others who are compelled to go out and hit a speed bag after a Rocky Movie. None the less, it is what it is. Compelling.

Crease Monkey

So I got back on the ice yesterday. Note to self. Don't quit caffeine cold-turkey. I'm already a little tired, and cranky. I really wanted to see how I would do after getting my metaphorical "bell rung" last week.

I felt sluggish. I could focus and all. I just didn't feel right. Still it was so good to be in the crease. Away from the distractions of life. Which crept in now and again. But I had this hour. My hour. To just watch the puck like a cat chasing a laser pointer.

Playing goalie is rush. Its a blast. Their is so much chaos that you almost can't replay anything in your head until later.

Shoot-out: We were tied at the end of the game, so we had to go to a shoot-out. I hate shoot outs. Not for the pressure, so much as the lack of preparation. I have virtually no training, so when the other team lines up three of their best guys to come in one-on-one with me, I know they have training. I imagine the opponents arousal and confusion in facing me. I give up so many holes, that I probably appear to them as a large piece of Swiss cheese. I like to think I close the holes quick, but again, I am so unorthodoxed it probably creates confusion. I remember last night thinking how alone I felt at the shoot-out. But then looking out into the empty bleachers. I was alone. Definitely not a sport of notoriety.

So my adventure into hockey continues... 1 year 2 months and counting.

Another day on Planet Earth

Its another day on planet earth. I am convinced that pretty much everyone is crazy. Especially me. Just when I think people can't be any dumber, I am amazed by a new feat of stupidity. Just when I think people cannot be any more cruel, some other news story comes out further blackening the heart of humanity. I ask myself, has it always been this way, just with less press? Or are we hardening like the dry ground beneath our feet.

But then. Then. I see it. Somewhere. It always appears. Somewhere. You see a child laughing, or an act of kindness that restores some semblance of faith. There continues to be goodness in this bleak world. Somewhere today..... Somebody got better. Somebody laughed. Somebody cried. Someone forgave. Somewhere.

I don't know where because all of the news choppers where chasing a bank robber, and all of the radio journalists were making small talk about local sports teams, or anything that light and insignifigant.

But its another day on earth. So I role up my sleeves. Try to understand. Forgive, Help, and I guess even love.

I can't wait to see my family.


Its almost 1:00 in the afternoon, and I have told 1,245 jokes. All cynical. Mostly jaded remarks designed to remove myself from the sea of pain I swim in. Still the human soul is buoyant and I will swim on. Good things. Good thoughts & God Bless..........

Nausea

Nausea. That is the only word I can use to describe politics. I've tried the whole Ostrich, head in the sand thing; but you listen to some of this stuff and, well, nausea. I catch this clip talking about a bill involving health care for children; which of course the president vetoed. I'm sure there is a reason why, I'm just not that well read on the old testament or the ingredients in Bourbon to fathom his logic.

So apparently some 12 year old kid responds to this veto or appeals to the president to sign this thing and gets attacked by the right wing media thugs who try to indicate that he is in fact not a child, rather Michael J. Fox, using an old Tiny Tim Costume from child-hood. I see this clip with Keith Olberman talking about this and a couple of things strike me.

First, I like that Keith immediately attacks the humanity of this. Keith notes that almost all animals are "cute" as children or infants, so that their parents will protect them. So he furthers his argument basically asking the question, "just how sick can you be?" He's correct in his question, although speculation of the true darkness of humanity especially considered in context of greed probably reaches a place of sickness that would probably melt the average soul faster than the very touch of the sun itself.

And god-help these people, be they Democrat, Republican, misguided, or just stupid. ANYONE, I MEAN ANYONE who attacks children, using them as pawns for their own gain..... needs just that. Gods help. Cause if your that sick, and this is the frightening concept of a never ending onion of layers which begs two questions. What made these people that sick? Secondly, how sick was whatever created or made impressions suspect to make these people that sick etc????

Ick. I won't be eating onion rings for awhile.

I don't want to delve into this much more because I lack the time, and correct information. I do want to close with this however.

Mr. Olberman describes Rush as a Right wing water carrier. Personally, I think back to older days when servants transported chamber pots. The same instinct that makes most of us Bristle with anger when we see children wronged, rises in me whenever I see this Piss Boy (Rush). I truly doth loathe him.

You can ring my bell.....

That's right sports fans. I got's my bell rung. Last night while playing hockey two players collided and then ran into me. Leaving me with a head-ache, and some mild concussive symptoms. I did get the usual checks and such, and am a little fuzzier today than usual, but not completely out of whack.

Makes me both wonder and worry about the pro's though. The hit I took was totally accidental and clean, and involved the two best skaters on the ice. Now, imagine if you will, honed professionals with rocket speed, who spend the majority of their lives perfecting the craft of contact. All be it hockey or football. These guys rocket at each other at ungodly speeds, creating collisions which I suspect would involve air-bag deployment if they were cars. Frankly it scares. The findings certainly don't surprise me. I'm going to go now before I say something sarcastic about something very very serious.

A Prarie Home Companion

I sent in a request for the people of Prairie Home Companion to read my blog (pause for voracious laughter.... or as my sister, whom I adore would say, "silence").

I love the writing and overall make-up of the Prairie Home Companion, and am a big Garrison Keillor fan.

So I think I will throw this dream to the stars and hold my breath till they write back with adornment. For those of you who read my work regularly....."I would like to thank my mom and dad, and especially Big Sid in San Quentin who's feedback has been a real boon for me in the lean times.....don't worry. When you hold your breath long enough, all you do is pass-out and immediately your breath regulates itself, and your ok. Its like hyper-ventilating, only it burns less calories.

Marriage

If there is anything in this world harder than marriage. Don't tell me. Leave me in the dark. Marriage is a compromise. Marriage is learning to communicate daily. Marriage is about keeping your soul mate from being your cellmate.

Some people refer to their favorite actors as the one's they love to hate. I am married to Alan Richtman. My wife is one of the smartest, most wonderful, patient, people I have ever known. She is doing the stay at home mom gig, while I do the 40 plus hours gig.

Marriage is a living breathing tornado of emotions. If I see one more happy couple on T.V. looking at a sunset, I will throw the closest thing I have (except my kids) at the T.V. I look at those two smiling people looking at that beautiful sunset, and I know what he thinking, "That's right, keep staring into the sun you harpee and maybe your retina's will burn out." Through her loving visage you can hear faintly, if you listen, "One more step...and I'm pushing you off of this scenic landscape.

My wife points out the little things. Like, we have nothing in common. By nothing, I think she means, nothing. We share a love of oxygen, and sustenance, plus some shelter. You know Maslows lower hierarchy of needs, but that's it. Even there we disagree, my wife keeps telling me she thinks I can breathe under water, if only I try harder.

Arguing. You can't argue with this woman. She remembers everything. Everything. I can't remember my kids names. I only have two. Arguing with my wife is like volunteering to work at a boxing gym as a speed bag. I recall times after certain exchanges where, if you'll excuse my southern vernacular, " I don't know whether to shit or go blind".

Oh but she makes me laugh. And smile. I love everything about my wife. I love the quirks, the differences. This unabated desire for sushi. I swear she's having an affair with a sushi cook. God help me she finds one. Cause if she does. Its over. I know my wife loves me. But she would kill me for sushi in a heartbeat.

Yesterday, when we were in the midst of an argument, and forgive me, because I don't recall what about, our little girl came in with a loose tooth. She was so cute. Tooth is hanging by a thread, she won't let me touch it. And she is absolutely hilarious. She has this stall tactic where she goes, "Can I just tell you something." It might have been her first full sentence. She wanted a Doctor or Pain Killer. This is how much my kid pays attention. She knows that there is stuff out there that stops the ouchie. So I go get a Q-tip, put water on it, and pretend its Novocaine. Just long enough to pop the little tooth free. She is thrilled and immediately declares, " I want the tooth fairy to give me diamond" All I can think is, " I hope this Sushi cook is rich.

A Goalies Eyes

I was listening to the news (my fault, I know), when I heard about the American Women's Soccer team Goalie, who spoke out and complained about not being played in a big game. I think it was against Brazil. Honestly, I don't care. It was several weeks ago. Again its my fault for listening to the radio sports losers anyway. But here's the thing. She was the starter. She put up the numbers. She was benched for a game. It pissed her off. When the US lost the game. Badly. It pissed her off more. So she said some things that were offensive to people.

Yawn. Walk with me. Here's a kid, who is playing a position in which she is the last thing between the hopes and dreams of more people than if China and India had a group hug; who's existence is defined by wins losses and goals. People skills? No? Was she aspiring journalist? I don't know. Still don't care. All I got from her rant, was that she was competitive. Very. I don't know about you, but one of the traits I look for in a team-mate is Competitive.

I'm sure if people read this (they don't), then someone would come back and say something about sportsmanship and loyalty to the team........ bla bla bla. If she doesn't have rapport with her teammates enough that they don't see her passion for the game; and if her teammates actually listen to or read the press, or care. Then that's their issue.

Anyone who has been in a locker room should get that. Its not about opinion. Its not about what happens off the field. Its about doing your best for your team. To me, this is someone who hangs it out to dry and leaves the field tired.

Maybe I'm just projecting my issues because I have a big mouth and am prone to saying stupid things. However, I am competitive, and I always leave the field tired. What was it the Spartans said," Come back with your shield... OR ON IT.

because..........

Because I can. Because I believe. Because there is a box, you can think outside of. Because of beauty. Because of ugliness. Laughter, Joy, sorrow, tears. Because of Winners, Losers. Because of the sweat taste of love. The salty taste of lust. Because of sunsets, chocolate ice-cream and wheel-chair athletes.

Town Meeting

I love meetings. Anytime humans get together in any group setting preferably in a range of around 8-20ish is always awesome. Usually you get a good cross-section of society. This is of course barring polarized groups such as "Poodle lovers who Pray for Rush", or "The Movement for Better Bowels".

These meetings are akin to me of the Far Side titled "Gods Recipe for Disaster".

First you start with a room full of people. What kind of people? Well, you have people with low-self-esteem, high self-esteem, Me (see Narcissus). People who have had a good day. People experiencing a bad day. People with people-type issues. Height, Weight, Hair Loss (typical head), Hair Gain (typically facial, occasionally back, often times ear goes generally unnoticed and is approved socially by the AARP). People with more complex issues. Sexuality for instance. Lack of Sexuality. Guilt from Sexuality with something inflatable.

This also cracks me up in terms of the idea that humans aren't so much animals. The only difference in a group of humans and a group of dogs is basically the smelling scenario. We just take more time and diligence to sniff. Dogs cut straight to chase. Smell, and learn everything they need to know quick-like.

Then there is the Alpha and not so Alfa pecking order thing. Generally speaking these groups are put on by well meaning people who mean to be in charge. These people are usually frequently interrupted by one to three other people who want to be in-charge but lack the focus and or initiative, and or intelligence to form a meeting; so they simply attend said meeting and speak as to sound important to themselves. All the while, mind you, generally irritating the rest of us. As meetings go one of these people are tolerable, in that eventually a group tires, and someone or 2-3 someones gradually reign them in and muzzle them so to speak. 2 of these types are trickier. Why? If they don't get along and can't share the spot-light (clashing personal issues) they leed meetings totally off track all though its often more entertaining then the said meeting anyway. But if they agree, and oft they do; then your in for a long night of whining and negativity (Me thinks my jaded sarcasm meter is up a tad today).

Finally, and I could write a book about people in groups, I am always interested in the dynamics of where people sit. You have different areas in a room, which can tell you a lot about people. People who sit on the outside or perimeter (Me), are generally observers, watchers, occasionally stalkers (acquitted). People in the front row, are focused, aggressive, task oriented, and generally resented by the observers. Middle to back you find the a range of casual observer, who pays some attention, but not for long, to the oblivious, who fixate on boogers, and their inability to creatively place them anywhere but under something. Also in the corner, back to wall, you have the paranoid type. Not often spotted, but a fascinating creature to observe (extra note: GIVE LOTS OF SPACE).

Peace,
j

Pandora's Box

I probably shouldn't call this Pandora's box, because it really isn't that interesting. When you leed with Pandora's Box it tends to pique one's interest. So forgive me if I disappoint.

I'm playing around with my little blog thingie. Again that is the extent of my technical acumen, "blog thingie", and I'm looking at my profile and I spy, where this movie I really liked, "The Fisher King", was underlined. So me being me, I clicked it; Alice shrank and away she went down the rabbit whole. I got a list of about 10,000 other I think bloggers who also like the same movie (Gasp). But it had their profiles listed. You know, "Sagittarius, long walks on the beach, Pizza, Attractive Women who dig short fat bald guys................."

I have to tell you these "Windows" into the soul, that are characterizing traits of some of these folks is CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I don't so much know why, but some of these profiles give me the heebiest of jeebies.

I think for my profile I will put down:

Likes:

Not meeting strangers.
Privacy
Chocolate Ice cream
Privacy

Dislikes:

Strangers
People who post creepy pictures of themselves, or need to shout their weirdness off the top of Mount StrangeLove.
Anyone who dislikes Peanut Butter
Strangers

Join me later as I write my new Blog, "I Scream You Scream; A haunting insight into Paranoia

Spiders and Snakes

For those of you that don't know me, and those of you that do. Simply put. I DON'T LIKE SPIDERS AND SNAKES. Now having said this, yesterday afternoon, I decided to go outback and play with my new blower. Sounds like more fun than it is. Although being a man towards the macho side, holding a piece of machinery which propels things with force is cool.

So, lets review. We have me, arachnophobia/snake-a-phobe, a device designed to kick up leaves, and rocks at a high speed. We have an unusually high temperate climate in October... Does anyone see where this catastrophe is headed. Cause I didn't. After I exposed the first two snakes, and 3 wolf spiders, I was so jacked with fear, panic, naseau, and adrenaline you could have whispered boo in my ear and I would have stuck to the ceiling like a cartoon cat. If I had had the opportunity to play hockey last night, I imagine I would have excelled, because my reflexes were HONED. In fact maybe I'll try that for a pre-game warm-up. "John looks sluggish, bring out the snake". I can read the headline now. "Goalie stops 47 shots in shut-out, kills 37 spiders and a python. Snake Skin proceeds to go to local Jay-Cees."

Speaking of fear, my wife has been getting on to me about my language, particularly in front of the kids. However, as per fear, my patented response is "DUCK ME". It's a reflex, won't be changing anytime soon.

Also My wife and kids have that whole, "ooh cool" response to arachnids and reptilian thing going, which I just don't dig at all. Particularly my little girl, who isn't afraid of the devil, let alone a little snake. The question isn't so much when is daddy gonna have a heart attack, rather when and by what reptile. I just pray that as things go dim and I begin to collapse that the last thing I hear is "RIBBIT".

PEACE,
J