My Journal 058

“Sometimes you just have to say WHAT THE FUCK!”

I think that this line is uttered by a very young Tom Cruise in a movie called ‘Risky Business’ a decade or two ago. But it still rings true. Sometimes you just have to do it.

I mean life is a bitch sometimes. It will beat you down to the ground. You try to keep integrity, honor, and a good sense of humor because that is what is expected. You can’t be a jerk, or a letch, or a bastard as it is “bad”. But why?

If you demand something then you are pushy. If you force something then you are a jerk. If you don’t give up then you are crazy.

Why not just say, “What the fuck” and do whatever you want. Ok, there are laws that dictate what you can and can’t do. But so what? You do the crime and you do the time. It’s a cost of doing business. People steal millions and then get caught. They pay back about half, spend a few years detained, and walk out rich. That’s our system.

So why not follow that in life? Why not do what you want when no one is looking? Oh, there is a moral code. But who really follows that when no one is paying attention. You have to face you maker someday, right? You will have to explain all the crap you did when you were alone, and all the lies you told, and all the people you cheated, and all the people that you used. Really??? Is that a deterrent?

Here’s another line from an old movie with Tom Berringer (No, I’m not nostalgic. I spent the weekend doing nothing but watching football and old movies.) It was the sequel to Sniper, and Berringer was in Afghanistan. A man asked him if he trusted the guy who is supposed to be helping them get out. Berringer then replied, “I’ve never trusted anyone, that’s why I am still here.”

So, what the fuck?

I spent over 40 years never trusting anyone, keeping my thoughts to myself, and avoiding contact unless I desired it. For 40 years I did great! I was the deep and dark person. I was invisible to most people. I was aggressive and forceful, but since no one knew me it was always a sneak attack.

I was the over achiever. I was the one people counted on in a pinch. I was the one who was the star. Was it only because no one knew me? If I was like everyone else, would I have still been that guy? Today I doubt it.

I decided to put some of my thoughts into words. I decide to select a few individuals and actually tell them the truth. I figured that this would humanize me, and make me a better person. Then I chose to put them out for the world to see.

Hmmmm?

Maybe I am wrong. Maybe people use my thoughts against me. Maybe they think that they have me figured out so now they can use what they know to improve themselves. Maybe sharing your thoughts and feelings are truly a weakness that others can prey on.

So today I say, WHAT THE FUCK!

Good bye.

My Journal 057

First, I just found my newest “worst” torture. Lying in bed with your leg inclined for 56 hours and doing nothing. Well, I did go get the oil changed in my car (about 30 minutes) and I had to piss a few times. But other than that, I did nothing. I did receive numerous text messages from a good friend keeping my spirits up though, and that helped.

Thank you, I needed that.

Second, I learned that there is apparently a way to send an email from this page to the account I set up for this page. I did receive one this weekend and I did ask if I could share it. Even though this person has no idea what my past was, I was told that maybe my past has led me to want the things I desire today. This is very possible. Perhaps never trusting anyone and never letting people too close has made me want to trust and be close. Also, I was posed these questions, which I found to be very thought provoking.

What happens if I don’t find that special person?

How long do I keep trying?

Do I eventually settle for 2^nd best or do I just do without?

If I settle for 2^nd best, am I still searching for the one?

Would that keep me from totally committing to the one I am with?

I jokingly replied that I was looking for answers, and not more questions. Ok, enough of that. AND thank you for the response.

Third, my old man is pretty pissed at my boss for screwing up his holiday / birthday plans. My brother is not too happy either. Now some of you believe that pissing me off would be a really bad thing. I would agree. When I am angered I move directly and swiftly. But these two guys are FAR WORSE than me. They will torture you for days or weeks. Not only that, they would burn your house down and shoot your dog.

So as of today, I am having a sandwich this Thanksgiving and watching some football . . . alone. I will show up Friday as ordered. As soon as my sentence is complete, I will drive towards SA. Whoopee, right? I will miss the Thanksgiving meal and the party, but I will show up. Saturday night I will make my way back to Houston so I can attend the BIG GAME between the Texans and the Titans. Like that means shit anymore.

Urgh!

For the record, even though my football career was cut short due to an injury, and even though I can barely walk today from my fall, I COULD HAVE COVERED THAT GUY FOR 10 YARDS AND 10 SECONDS!!!! Geez!!!!

My Journal 056

I am in the middle of evaluating new opportunities. I am bored and frustrated with what I do to earn a buck today. So I need to vent a bit, and as usual advice is appreciated.

I am a horrible employee. I know more than most people and I am direct and demanding. So if my boss is an idiot or is making bad decisions I tend to be fairly vocal, and often times rude. I hate rules (other than my own) and I hate being told what to do. Now, in a perfect situation I could be a good employee. But not too many of those situations exist.

One that may possibly qualify has been presented. But there are some personal challenges that make it complicated. So it is definitely a second option. At least the money is closer to where it should be. But this opportunity will be discussed on another date.

The opportunity I want to discuss is one that I don’t know that I want, and don’t know if I am capable of performing.

A few of you may already know this, but I will share for those who don’t. Many years ago I had an interesting job. Please note that I didn’t use the word career. I never had any intention of making that job a career. I actually hated many parts of that job. But as sickening as it may sound, I thrived on being really great at something; even if it was disgusting.

Additionally, my contact to that past was my friend Frank. And he is no longer with us. I felt that one good thing to come from his demise was that this particular part of my life would now vanish. But Frank has “associates” and I knew some of them, just not real well. One of these associates, who I did meet once, has sort of taken over Frank’s business. He has been in contact with me.

The up side to this arrangement is that I will be my own boss. I can pick and chose the jobs that I want. The pay is really amazing also. And the actual time spent “working” is very small. It’s like you have to work once about every 4 -5 weeks, and the rest is down time. Now the down time is sort of a mis-use of words. In the down time there is a lot that I should be doing, like keeping in shape, etc.

And even though I am not “In love” with this job, it was mentioned to me that perhaps this was what I was built to be. I actually hate the thought of that. I mean why couldn’t I have been built to be a doctor or a model instead?

The down side is I have to become distant to the people I care about, like you. I have to limit what we talk about, and you will never know where I am or what I am doing. I will have to lie to you and everyone else a lot, and with my trust issues that would be a BIG problem. You see, if I lie to you then I assume you are lying to me. Then I get angry, do shit I shouldn’t do, and lose a friend.

But the worst part of it is that if I get injured (like last weekend) or worse, you may never know. You will just think that I am pissed at you or avoiding you. And what if I find someone special? What if this person was looking for me too? What do I do then?

Additionally, when I was great at this particular job I was about 20 years old. Back then, no matter the situation, I KNEW that I was at a minimum dead equal to my opponent; no matter who he was. Usually I had quite an advantage. Most people are trained to defend themselves. I never had that training, which is why I suck at fighting. All I knew how to do is inflict pain. The problem is that I am not 20 anymore. So what if I am now just a big goof?

I know! Most of the stuff I discuss makes me sound like “Captain Bizarro”. But this is how my mind works.

My gut reaction is that I will not take this opportunity. I have two reasons for this thought.

First, I sort of enjoy having friends like you. I really haven’t had a lot of close friends in my life. I have a lot of people that like me, and I do things with them. But I am VERY good at keeping my thoughts and feelings hidden. So people never are allowed to get to close to me. When I finally find someone that for whatever the reason I trust them; then I tend to initiate a flood of information. This tends to overwhelm many people and drives them away.

So I cherish those that know me and choose to stay. I don’t want to lose that.

Second, my goals have changed a lot in the past few years. I want to be someone that a special person trusts, depends on, and needs. I don’t want them to need me because I beat someone up. I want to be needed for my kindness and giving ways. That doesn’t mean that if a bad situation appears I won’t jump into it with both feet. I am very protective and I will protect this person from anyone or anything.

I know it sounds goofy, but I want moon lit walks on the beach with an amazing woman. I want to come home every day to someone I cherish, and that cherishes me too. I want someone that makes every guy lusts after her, but who always leaves with me. I want candle light dinners, Christmas kisses, Sunday morning sex, I want it all.

So I can’t see how becoming distant, rude and a liar would get me to here I want to be?

Anyway, this is just one option. So please forget that I am technically insane and give me your honest thoughts.

I love ya’ll. Have a great weekend.

My Journal 055

So, today I was going to discuss the other “What is inside” topic. But as I was beginning I pictured each of you walking around in a very sheer bra and . . . . well . . . . I had to stop writing about it. Sorry?!?!

But man-o-man was that going to be an EXCITING topic.

Instead, I decided to tell you a story about another one of my life experiences. I don’t know how some of these old stories just pop up in my head from time to time. But this one I do have an answer.

Yesterday a friend was telling me that they have been sick for over a week now. My first thought was to ask if they had been to the clinic. This person lives in a college town that has a college clinic, basically free for students. As luck would have it, this town is the same town where I went to college. Once I realized where they were living, I prayed that they had not been to the campus clinic. And here is why . . .

There is a waterfall in this town. Back in my day, the waterfall was off a small road near campus. Today there is restaurant over the falls, but back then it was fairly secluded. And it was a place where my buddies and I would hang out on Saturday’s.

On the particular Saturday in this discussion, there were 4 of us that decided to visit the falls. Two of us were males and the other two were super hot females. Now don’t judge me, but it just so happened that early that morning the four of us were together in my room (Relax, me and one chick were in my bed and my buddy had the other chick in his) and we decided to continue the fun of the previous night into this Saturday.

Before heading out on our adventure, we did a little bit of illegal drugs (Shhh). Oh and we had sex again. Of course then we were starving so we hit Pic-A-Taco. Unfortunately, Pic-A-Taco served beer so we ended up staying there for quite a while. And yes, that darn smoking hot and very aggressive chick force me to have sex again in the parking lot of Pic-A-Taco (Thank goodness I had a BIG truck with a bench seat).

Now you are probably thinking, “What the heck does an illness and a clinic have to do with my sex life?” Well, you just going to have to trust me that everything I am sharing will in fact play into the interesting part of the story. Seriously!!!

We finally leave Pic-A-Taco and hit the Beer Barn for more refreshments. We also do a little more illegal drugs while driving around town. We finally make it to the falls around 3:00 in the afternoon. At this point we had been screwing, drinking and smoking for hours; so we were in a rather festive mood. We swam some, we walked to the top of the falls and jumped off into the river, we had more sex, and we drank more.

Eventually it was suggested that we didn’t need swimsuits. So we went skinny dipping and skinny diving. But we continued to consume our favorite beverages.

Now, we finally get to the interesting part.

There was a large rock in the river below the falls. Everyone knew about it, and you could even see it from the top of the falls. Everyone knew to just jump somewhere else, and not on the rock. But my buddy, who had way too much to drink at this point, made a bad jump.

I was making out with the hot chick in the river when he jumped. His chick was on top of the falls watching. We were all naked. The rocks was a few feet underwater, so from my vantage point I couldn’t see it. I saw him hit the water, and then returned to my hot chick. A matter of seconds later I heard the chick on top of the falls scream. Oh crap!

I looked up at her, and then down at the river near the bank. My buddy was floating face down near the bank. The chick up top was screaming that he had passed out and to roll him over before he drowns. Of course I believed her, so I started the swim to where he was floating. But somewhere along the way I guess a few of my brain cells kicked into gear. I put together the fact that he had jumped, that there was a rock near his landing zone, and he was floating motionless. So I began to assume that perhaps he had hit the rock.

When I got to him the water was shallow enough for me to stand. So I grabbed him by his head and shoulder, submerged him (Causing a weightless environment) and slowly rolled him over. He was awake, but not incoherent. He had a gash on his forehead. At this point I was convinced that he had a neck injury. I called for both chicks to come and help.

The three of us carefully floated him near the muddy bank, supporting him as best that we could. The I told the chicks to support him while I went for my truck. Being a good country boy, the bed of my truck had a lot of crap in it. One of these was a burlap tarp. I returned to the chicks as we wrapped the tarp under my buddy for better support.

I then returned to my truck, lowered the tailgate, and literally backed my truck into the river. I submerged the bed about half the way up to the cab and set the parking brake. I returned to my buddy and the three of us floated him into the bed of my truck.

Now was the tricky part. My front tires are deep in mud and my rear tires are in the river. I had to drive this big truck out of the river, with mud as my only traction, and as carefully as possible to protect my buddy’s neck. Fortunately, my big, old Chevy 4-wheel drive truck pulled right out. (Never own a Dodge)

The chicks remained in the back with my buddy, who by now had admitted having no feeling below his neck. Now remember that we were naked when this event occurred. No one bothered to think about retrieving our clothing before we left. We had left a few items strewn around the cab though. So I had a pair of cutoffs, one girl found her bra and panties, but the other chick only had my buddy’s gym shorts. She held an oily and wet towel over her breasts as we raced down the road, in a truck covered with mud, towards the campus clinic.

We arrive at the clinic and the chick in her bra and panties races in to get a doctor. My thought was that once the doctor was convinced of the seriousness of this injury he could call Austin for an ambulance or a helicopter. I felt that time was of the essence, so I was prepared to argue for the helicopter rescue.

But get this!!! The doctor comes out of the clinic screaming at the chick for being half naked and drunk. I see this and scream at the doctor that we had a guy with a possible broken neck and we need assistance. He then addresses the other chick whose oily rag blew away while she was tending to my buddy. He begins to lecture her on STD’s and birth control.

Again, I try to stop him by explaining the situation. He calls us a bunch of stoned punks and tells me to bring the guy inside. I refuse and suggest that he contact emergency services to get him to Austin ASAP. He flat out refuses! He says that he won’t treat a bunch of sex-crazed and drunk “stonies”.

This argument continues for about 5 minutes. He doesn’t budge. Finally out of desperation I tell the chicks to climb in and we will drive him to a hospital in Austin ourselves. So now I am zipping down the freeway; drunk, stoned, half naked and pissed. I’ve got one girl in the back in bra and panties only and another one topless. Mud is still flying everywhere and I realize that I don’t have enough gas to make it to Austin.

Yes, three half naked college kids had to stop at Texaco for gas in route to a Hospital in Austin. My wallet was at the river so I had a couple of dollars in coins in my console. While I was pumping gas, the topless chick ran inside to pay. What a freakin’ nightmare.

We did make it to the hospital, and we were treated with the respect deserving of what we had been through. I was told that by floating him in the river and into my truck I may have saved him the use of his arms. I was also told that when they got to him, he only had about 10 minutes of life left in him. I told the doctors about our experience in the college town. I was told that they would “look into it”, but I don’t think anything ever came of it.

My buddy had broken his neck, and when I last saw him he had use of his arms but not his legs. Perhaps if the dick-less doctor at the clinic had done his job then my buddy would be dancing with us tonight.

I don’t think that I ever saw the hot chicks again.

So, my sweet, sexy friend . . . . DO NOT GO TO THE CAMPUS CLINIC!!!!

I've got my own thermometer . . . . say ahhhhh!

My Journal 054

I promised information this afternoon, so I am posting early. Just pretend that it is Friday!

Happy Friday!

Ok, first my weekly shout outs!

Bananarama – Did “What the hell!” mean “What the hell, ok” or “What the hell, no”? J

Sunshine – Get well baby!

Suze – Hey, I remember you!!! Wassup?

Lil Devil – Yes, I am out of the hospital and thank you.

Now, back to me. My holiday break has taken a turn for the worst. My partner / boss approved my day off for the Friday after Thanksgiving. I take very few days off, and I actually lost about three weeks of vacation due to employee turnover this year alone (not to mention all the weeks I’ve lost in past years). I was planning on being in San Antonio / New Braunfels for three glorious days. My folks have my brother and sister over for Thanksgiving, and it’s the only time we ever get to be together as a family.

Also, my dad turned 80 a few days ago. My mom is throwing a BIG birthday party for him, and since she knew I would be there for the holiday weekend (since it had been approved) she moved the party to the Friday after Thanksgiving. All was good.

Until . . . .

This guy sends me an email saying he has given everyone Friday off and expects me to be here on that Friday to cover for everyone. Huh? So I reply and remind him that I already had that day off (like that did any good). So tomorrow I have to call my dad and say, “Oops, sorry but my day off was forgotten or cancelled or something; I really don’t know. But I have to miss the entire weekend due this nonsense.”

I could leave here Thursday morning as planned and drive to SA. But I would have to return Thanksgiving evening. My folks planned the BIG Thanksgiving meal for 6:00 pm. So I guess I would have to miss dessert and rush back here. Then I would miss the party on Friday.

Or I could eat a ham sandwich here alone for Thanksgiving, work Friday, and then drive to SA Saturday morning. But then again, I would have to leave Saturday night and I would have already missed the party. Gee, I sure hope my dad lives to be 90 so we can try this again.

But more than likely, my butt will be parked here all weekend. It amazes me that I got this day approved in February and made plans accordingly. Everyone in my family adjusted their schedules to accommodate me. Yet a week before my day off I find out that following procedure doesn’t mean crap around here.

I don’t get it, and my quest for an explanation has fallen on deaf ears.

How about a short story? Since this is a public forum I will keep it clean. Bear with me as this is not a dream or fantasy, I am making this up as I go.

~

He sat quietly on his deck, watching the sunset on a beautiful fall evening. He had his favorite drink in his hand and his feet propped up as he admired the results of his life’s efforts. He had accomplished a lot.

But he had found himself at a cross-road in his journey. He had never been one to choose the well worn path, like many others had before him. He had always preferred being off the beaten path, being a trail blazer and creating his own course without regard to popular routes. Also he enjoyed the solitude of creating his own trail in the woods.

He had found that even if you’re not on the path you will occasionally arrive at the proverbial “fork in the road”. Once again this is where he found himself, at least in his mind. In the overall scheme of life, this choice was a little one. It wasn’t a life and death choice, or a wealth or poverty choice. This was merely a personal preference choice.

But to him, right here and now, it was a monumental choice.

He knew what each path could bring him, and he knew what he would be giving up with each path not taken. It was all very clear, he just had to choose. There was no turning back once he chose.

He had to choose between pleasure, happiness, and devotion.

One path led to a chance at pleasure. It was as certain as it could be, but it would be emotionless. But by choosing this path he would be giving up a chance for real happiness and devotion. The pleasure would be amazing and all about him. It has titillated his fancy and driven him with great anticipation. It could be everything he wanted and as much as he wanted; no limits.

Another path led to happiness. It was definite that it would be attained, but it would be strained with occasional sadness and disappointment. By choosing this path it was certain that he would be giving up any chance at intense pleasure, and possibly any chance for future devotion. But the happiness would be over whelming and the greatest he could ever imagine.

The final path led to devotion. It would be complete devotion for the majority of the time, but in other moments it would be unlimited jealousy and rage. By choosing this path he was convinced that he would not want for devotion. He could be cherished, needed and loved, but would have to forego his opportunities for happiness and the levels of pleasure he craved.

He wasn’t one to ponder his choice for long. He had chosen to live his life making quick decisions and never looking back. He decided that he had until the sun had set on this glorious day to move forward.

He looked back on his past life, the life before he became who he was today. He had lived that life craving one path and he had enjoyed it immensely. He pondered the life after he had become who he was today, and again saw what the impetus was for him then. He contemplated where he was today, and understood his needs and wants. He then saw himself in the future, anticipating what he would want and need then.

His challenge was that in each of the three timeframes of his life as he saw it, he desired a different path. He knew them all very well. But looking at himself in the future, he had to have all three. He felt he had earned it. He had made his amends for past errors, he had lived a good life, and he had provided more than enough. Now it should be all about him.

Perhaps his amends weren’t sincere enough to offset the errors of his past. Maybe his sacrifices didn’t measure up to the pain he had cause to others before. Maybe this was just his penance for his past life. But taking all three paths wasn’t an option.

As the sun slowly disappeared behind the horizon, he took his last sip of his drink, and he made his choice. Some people would be elated, some people wouldn’t care, some people would be hurt, and some people would be disappointed. But his choice was made. He raised his phone to make a call. He was moving on.

What would you choose?

My Journal 053

“A good friend is like a good bra. It’s not the looks that count, it’s what is inside.”

I heard this line yesterday and it stuck with me. If you know me then you understand why it stuck. If you don’t know me then I’ll clue you in. What is inside a person and what is inside of a bra are both incredibly interesting to me. Today we will discuss what is inside of people. I will address bras on another date.

You see, I’ve been experiencing a unique situation recently and the topic of what is inside a person has been on my mind a lot. Thus . . . today’s discussion.

I consider myself to be a very simple guy with which to get along. I don’t believe in or adhere to social norms, and I don’t alienate people whether they do or don’t. I believe that we live in a free country. So if you want to smoke, drink, do drugs, eat yourself to 500 pounds, have daily sex with farm animals or whatever, it’s not my problem. I don’t judge people and I do enjoy differing opinions, personalities, and life styles. It’s educational to me.

But I do offer suggestions from time to time, and that could be considered as lecturing people. I try to do it in a positive fashion though. My directness can be confused for challenging a person. I do offer additional alternatives as opposed to bashing someone’s personal choices. I enjoy verbal communication and tolerate digital communication. I prefer verbal communication so I can observe the person as it lends me to a better process of understanding and / or making a point.

None of this will preclude me from associating with someone. My choices are based on my personal evaluation of whether a person can and will fit into my world. It’s my world so it’s my choice, right?

I have a very simple set of requirements in order to associate with me. (Yes, we’ve gone over this before . . . it’s a reminder) Some people have many expectations and at times it makes it almost impossible to comply with all of them and maintain your own personal identity. So I’ve come up with just three requirements.

·          Like me. I am opinionated, aggressive, direct, and often a pain in the ass. I would guess if you didn’t like me you would avoid me. But just pretending to like me (or dealing with me) so you can get something from me is not acceptable.

·          Be honest with me. Please note that I did not say to avoid lying to me. What I require is a bit more. If you want to associate with me then I require knowing anything that may affect me. And if you associate with me then you should know what will affect me.

·          Make time in your day for me. I don’t need to spend every night with you, but checking in from time to time is more what I am describing. If I find myself being the only one initiating communication then I feel that I am imposing . . . and I stop.

See, I am very simple. Why would anyone choose not to associate with me?

However . . .

I have the right to decide if I will associate with ANYONE. Just because I don’t judge a person for who they are or what they do does not mean I will accept them into my world. I meet someone and make a choice to associate with them or to avoid them. This choice is based on data collected during the initial meeting, and I do lend some credence to any prior comments made by individuals with which I have previously chosen to associate. But I do make my own choices.

I call this period where I am evaluating a person as my temporary status period. I find a person that I believe can meet my requirements and I place them on a temporary status while I determine if they will in fact meet my requirements. This status is usually resolved one way or another within a matter of days or weeks. But it has been known to traverse several months.

Some people will never make the cut. Some people may be eliminated during the temporary status period. And yes, some may be eliminated after they have been accepted. You see, I’m good at evaluating people but I am not perfect. Sometimes I am deceived or I interpret actions and / or situations incorrectly. Once the truth rises to the surface, I move them to the group that I avoid. Or I may just change my mind.

This is the point that I will remind you of the original topic. I am very interested in what is inside of people. The problem is that most people will tell you who they want to be, and not necessarily who they really are. It’s not always to deceive other people though. Sometimes they desperately want to be someone else and they are trying very hard to be that person even though they are aware that they are very different.

I don’t care how you look, how you talk, what you believe in, or how you live your life. I want to know what is inside of you and if you can comply with my three simple requirements. The requirements are firm, but my interpretation of the individual may slack on one or more requirements from time to time. But again I reserve the right to make that call and I don’t have to apply it consistently. It’s my life and I can change as I see fit.

The problem I face is devising a program to find out who someone really is ON THE INSIDE. My basic plan of attack is to listen to them, make notes of specific issues or topics, and then bring them up again later in the conversation or relationship. The purpose is to see if I get a similar response. My purpose is not to “play games”, but to get them to admit the truth. I want to know what’s REALLY on the inside, not what they want to be on the inside.

Keep in mind that most people do not know what I am doing. So just because I am enlightening you does not mean I am insane or a bad guy. I’m really trying to do the right thing. I mean wouldn’t it be great if everyone came with an ingredients card that was tattooed to their forehead. This could list any and all traits to make it easy to understand the person. But that is not reality, so other methods have been chosen.

The reason for discussing this topic today (instead of bras, which is a far more exciting topic) is that recently I have had a series of disappointments by individuals with which I associate. And I really don’t disappoint easily. I don’t know if I am becoming very bad at evaluating people or if people have come up with new techniques to hide themselves. Whatever the reason, the facts are the same. I’ve sucked at this a few times.

I even wonder if I am too critical. Should I just accept that people will associate with me simply for their benefit and refuse any benefit to me? Maybe everyone has things that they chose not to be honest about, even if it affects others? Maybe people don’t want to make time for relationships and prefer to have the relationship only when it is convenient for them? Maybe we are just becoming a “me, me, and me” society with no concern for other people?

Who knows?

I just know it is definitely not me that has a grip on the concept. But I keep trying and I guess that as I learn more about people I just modify the list of those with which I associate. But it sure makes life a whole lot tougher.

Urgh, I have a headache now. I think I’ll go imagine all of you in your bras instead.

My Journal 052

I believe in a supreme being.

Now I’m not fully convinced that all the miracles that I’ve read about actually happened as they are written. I have read the bible cover to cover more than once. I do apply my own thoughts and logic to the interpretation of the words as opposed to having some salesman try to convince me in his church. But I do believe that there is something out there.

Mine is called god.

We talk frequently. We have a scheduled conference call every night just before I pass out. And when I say we talk I mean just that, we just talk. Granted, my god doesn’t answer. But it is refreshing to believe that someone cares enough to listen to my crap, and since he doesn’t answer me I feel confident he will keep the secrets I reveal to him on the “down low”.

I don’t ask for things of him. Well, I do ask him to take care of people I am concerned about, but nothing for me. About twice in my life, during extremely intense moments, I did scream out for a wish (I guess you call it a wish). Unfortunately I got nada. So to me my god is a chat buddy.

As I mentioned, we have a scheduled conference call every night, and last night’s was what I will discuss today. Our meeting always goes something like this; I thank him for what I’ve gotten, I ask him to watch over / help people I know who are hurting or ill or just having a really bad time, I ask him to grant all of you your wishes, I pray for my friends and family health, wealth and happiness, and I finish by reciting the Lord’s Prayer. Yup, that’s been the routine since I was old enough to remember.

But last night went a little different. You see, after the Lord’s Prayer I tend to fall asleep. And for this week at least I have been passing out VERY early. So last night I start to doze, but I’ve got this shit stain on my brain. I’ve got this dilemma that I can’t figure out or get past. It’s not like driving me nuts or anything, at least not yet. But it’s really bugging the crap out of me.

So I think, “Hey, I just finished my conference call and I don’t ask for things ever, so why not try just this once and see what happens. So I dial up my god again. He already knew about my dilemma, as we had discussed it before. But this time I asked him for a favor. I didn’t ask him to make me rich, or beautiful, or to make someone else drive off of a bridge; I’m not that naïve. But what I did ask for was a sign or signal to help me figure shit out.

I know, I suck at signs and signals . . . we’re getting to that.

Now I already have some preconceived notions about my dilemma. So as I am asking, I find the urge to clarify. See I figure if he gives me this tiny sign, like a swallow flying past me to let me know my preconceived notions are wrong; well I’ll freakin’ miss it. Maybe because I want to miss bad news, I don’t know. So I asked for a pretty obvious sign. I want a sign with something more along the lines of a building falling over or something. Not that I want a building to fall over, it’s just a suggestion. The point is don’t be subtle with me as I am not a subtle person . . . as most of you have realized.

As usual, once I had my chat I tend to doze off. I really didn’t expect an angel to appear immediately with a piece of paper that read, “FROM THE DESK OF GOD” or anything; but I sort of hoped I would have a feeling or something. But, I got nothing so I slept.

Now this is where it starts to get interesting.

I wake up about an hour later. I never wake up until it is time to get up, so this is odd to begin. Then, as I awake I have this urge to do something. (No, I won’t tell you what as this was a personal conference call) Anyway, it something odd that I had not thought to do before. It something I believed to be true. And before I could think through all the process as I usually have to do, I found that I had already done it. Poof!

I don’t know why, it just happened.

Anyway, I fall right back to sleep then and don’t wake again until my alarm goes off at 3:15 AM. I do my usual early morning routine (Don’t ask) and I get up to take a leak. That is when I remembered what happened last night; only now my brain is at a full gallop and I am more aware. I realize that what I did would trigger a chain reaction. But to my surprise, there was NO reaction whatsoever.

At first I am confused. But then I think back and remember that I had asked for a sign, a BIG sign. At that moment I had no doubt that this was my sign. I had asked in a sleepy stupor. I had awaken in a partially unconscious state and done something abnormal for me. And now, while fully alert I can see the consequences of those actions. I got my sign.

So, in case you were wondering; my god is more than a chat buddy. And I don’t face the same dilemma today.

Oh, and thanks for putting up with my EMERGENCY text yesterday. I’m not sure if it was the increased pain, or the boredom, or my typical levels of horny; but almost everyone responded and I had a ball with your responses . . . . and your suggestions. It’s nice to know what friends will do for you in a pinch.

Have a super day!

My Journal 051

It has been a few days since I have written down anything. I had a “little” accident and have been dealing with increased amounts of pain. It’s hard to be insightful or humorous when in this condition. I will be fine soon; I always do reach that point eventually.

I will share a few points about me and my old injuries, as well as my concept of the future.

My most serious injury was playing football. On one play I broke my ankle, had two spiral fractures on my leg, a compound fracture below the knee, and tore some crap in my knee. I was told I would never play football again, and that by the time I was 35 years of age I would probably require a walker.

HA! Well sort of Ha.

I was able to play football for about 3 more years very effectively. But then my knee gave out again and I was never able to play beyond that time. As for the walker, in February prior to my 35^th birthday I ran a 10K race finishing in 42 minutes and 17 seconds. Ladies, this equates to a sub seven minute mile pace for over 6 miles. I ran another last year in 48 minutes and 50 seconds.

I KNOW, you are thinking, “There he goes again bragging!”

Heck yes I am! I finished 2^nd and 1^st place in my respective age brackets during those races. But get this, compared to the 20 to 30 year old bracket I still would have finished 12^th place out of 600 people at 34 years of age. At 49 years of age I would have finished 63^rd out of 700 people younger than 30 years of age. Now that is worth bragging about, right?

Ok, since my little accident I was prescribed morphine. I haven’t taken one yet. Hey, it’s mind over matter. Now I have consumed large amounts of alcohol, but that is mostly for fun. I was told to remain on crutches for 4 weeks. I stayed off of my leg for two days, and now I stumble around in a boot with a knee brace. I will put up with this junk until Friday.

What can I say? My body heals fast because I demand it.

I will never take a pain pill as long as I live. I will never use a walker or a darn wheelchair. I will never refuse to pull my own load. You see, I believe that once you give in to the pain you have lost. Pain is just a warning and it can be ignored.

Ok, my broken fingers are swelling again so I have to stop now. Hey, does any of you own a nurse’s uniform?

Hehehehe!

My Journal 050

Wow, can you imagined? I’ve written 50 Journals so far. I bet you never knew I had so much to say, right?

SO – A TOAST TO ILLOGICAL RAMBLINGS, OUR NEW HOME AWAY FROM REALITY.

Now you would think that I would have something really spectacular to write on this momentous occasion. Ha-ha, wrong again. It’s just the typical non-sensical ramblings. Sorry if I disappoint you (Not really J)

It’s Saturday morning, around 5:30 am. Yup, I am up and going. And guess what, I’m at work. Yup, for three years when I started this job I worked every weekend and finally made a deal that someone else can handle the weekend duties. But as usual this changed. SO here I am, once again.

Anyway, last night I am driving down the freeway and I see a school bus full of High School Football players going to a game. It’s actually playoff time in Texas, so this team was apparently good enough to make the state playoffs. Now some of you may be from other states, so let me explain what this means here in Texas.

Football is KING! And most cities in Texas literally shut down on Friday nights to watch the local boys play. Football in Texas is HUGE, and High School football is the biggest draw. Texas supplies more football players to the NFL each year that any other state in the union. Texas youths are put on running, lifting and diet programs in Junior High School preparing them for the level of competition they will be facing.

So, High School football in Texas is a really big deal as typified by such movies as “Friday Night Lights”, “Varsity Blues”, and the infamous “Meat on the Hoof”.

And of course I played football in the state of Texas. I don’t mean to brag, but I was All District three years in a row, All City twice at two positions, and All State once at two different positions. I was in Dave Campbell’s Texas Football Monthly as one of the top 100 athletes in Texas in 1977. And I receive three athletic scholarship offers upon graduation.

Now I assume that you all know about football. But perhaps you don’t know what goes on behind the scenes. So today I will share my old PRE-GAME RITUALS with you. This may be boring, but . . .

My Game Day started with my mom making my Game Day breakfast. She would have three steaks, a bag of hash brown potatoes, and a dozen fried eggs ready for me at 5:00 am. That may sound like a lot, but I was 6’ 1” and weighed 205 pounds. My waist was only 26” around and my chest was 52”. I ate everything and anything all day long, and couldn’t gain another ounce. A typical lunch for me was 6 hamburgers, 6 fries, and gallons of lemonade. So this breakfast was the fuel I would be burning during my game.

I travelled to school every morning for 4 years with the same 4 guys. Bobby, Scott, Tony and Jessie. So around 5:30 Bobby would show up and honk. We would drive together to the field house and each game day we listened to Ritchey Blackmore’s Rainbow. IN four years of driving together, no one ever spoke in the mornings. On game days, we were all focused on the war we had that night.

My school was a division 5 school, which was the top division in Texas. But the school was basically a country school. It was located about 8 miles outside of the city. So basically we were a bunch of country boys. Compared to other schools in the same division in Texas, we were small and slow. But we all grew up together, knew EVERYTHING about each other (strengths and weaknesses) and worked as a team. So even though we weren’t a team of super-stars, as a group we were pretty darn good.

But we all knew that we would be battling kids bigger, stronger and faster than us every week. So we began our focus very early in the day.

Upon arrival at the field house, we had stretching exercises to do. Then we each would watch some more film of our opponent. As a defensive back, I would watch  films that only showed our opponent’s pass plays and it mainly was about the one guy I had to cover that night. Each game I was assigned to cover the best receiver on the other team. My goal was to keep him from catching a single pass.

Now I played some offense too. I was an “H” back, which meant I came in on critical plays. When I came into the game on offense, everyone in the stadium knew that I was there to get the ball somehow. This made it difficult as the other team would design defenses specifically to keep me from succeeding. So after I did films, I met with the offensive coaches to go over the game plan for getting me the ball.

Then I would shower and take a nap.

Now back in my day, if you played football then school was definitely secondary. I had two period of physical education in the morning. That was my morning practice time. Then I had one real class, where I usually slept more. Then I had an hour and a half lunch. Well my real lunch was the required 30 minutes, but the coaches taught a “Sports History” class which met in the film room or cafeteria. After this, I usually had another class, and another nap. Then I had two more Physical Education classes, which was my afternoon workout time.

On Game Day, I didn’t attend classes.

Around 9:30 there would be a pep rally. My Spirit Girl would come into the field house and wake me up. I would slip on my jersey and walk out to the football field, where all the students would have gathered. There would be bands playing, cheering, introductions, speeches, etc. I believe the concept was to motivate the team. But we didn’t need cheers to motivate us. So I sort of believe this was really to motivate the rest of our school.

After this pep rally, my boys and I would leave school. We went to a field in the hills north of our school. Each of us had a spot where we would go to alone and just think about shit. Mine was this really big ash tree in the middle of a clearing. I could look up at the hills and the rolling grass and it put my mind at ease.

We had to be back for more film study and lunch around 11:00. My lunch was a bag of pears. This was my fluid for the game. I usually ate between 20 to 30 pears during our film study.

After lunch the press stuff began. If one of the local radio stations or TV stations had requested me for an interview, I had to attend. If I was not selected then I just wandered the campus for an hour or so.

Around 3:00, we all got together for our PRE-GAME meal. For years the Home Economics class prepared this for us. But some kid complained that it wasn’t fair that the school provided us meals and not him. So it got cancelled. Hey, go risk your body every day for 5 months a year and then you can complain about what I got for free. Oh, by the way, the 20,000 people that paid $5 - $10 to watch me play every week was actually paying for your stupid computers, so shut up!

After that deal was cancelled, the school made a deal with Luby’s. So we would all pile into our cars and drive to Luby’s to eat. Now by this time of the day, we were getting a bit wired. It was closer to battle time, and all these aggressive, alpha males were beginning to get riled up. So on the way back from eating, we smoked a little to relax. Yup, the football team got drugs too . . . for free.

As soon as I got back I took another shower. This was a long, hot shower usually lasting about an hour. Then I would air dry while putting on my “walkman” and listening to my favorite motivation tunes. I spent the next hour or so in the training room getting taped, and shot up.

I had both ankles taped, this was required to step onto any field in Texas. I also had my knees taped and my wrists. Basically, the knee taping was to hold me together long enough to play a game that night. Oh, and let’s not forget the shots. There was a drug called “Instant Freeze”. Once injected, the area injected was completely numb for about 6 hours. I mean you didn’t feel anything at all.

I would get two shots in each ankle, three shots in each knee, and two shots in my bad left shoulder. You got it right, I would get 12 shots every day of my life throughout High School, just to make the pain bearable. Then the trainer would give us our PRE-GAME drugs. It was a cup of about a dozen pills. I know that some of them were Fosfree, which is a salt to keep you from cramping up. I guess the rest were uppers of some kind.

I usually finished this process about an hour before we were scheduled to leave for the game. I was now clean, taped, shot up, and drugged. All that was left was getting my mind ready. I would place a tackling dummy over the stalls of the restroom. I would climb up to the ceiling, put a different tape in my “Walkman” and listen to speeches from famous leaders in history. What can I say, I got pumped up listening. Oh, for the record, I was still completely naked. I never put on a stitch of clothing until it was time to go to war.

Bobby would always come get me when it was time to suit up. That is when I would begin dressing out. From the waist down I would be ready to go. But I left my upper body in a workout “shimmel” shirt for the trip to the stadium. I now switched my “walkman” to the radio. Yup, I listened to the PRE-GAME show for my own game.

We had people to unload any gear we weren’t wearing when we arrived at the stadium. The players were usually the first to arrive, then the bands, then the cheerleaders and dance teams, and finally the fans. So my first quest was to inspect the field. If it wasn’t my stadium, I would walk every foot of the field, looking for holes and bad patches. My legs were already becoming shit at that age, so I wanted to know where every hole was so I could try to avoid them.

After that I would stand on the field and watch the game in my mind. I would run through everything I wanted to have happen and see it vividly in my mind. I was a firm believer that if you could see something happening, then you could make it happen. I still believe in that philosophy.

Then we would go inside the dressing room and finish “gearing up” for the game. We would have to consume 2 quarts of this fluid. It was like Kool-Aid with a ton of sale dumped into it. Again, it was designed to keep us from becoming dehydrated and cramping. I hated the taste of that crap, and to this day I can’t drink Kool-Aid.

Once every one was ready we would exit the dressing rooms and enter the tunnel leading to the field. By this time the stadium would be full. You could hear the rising cheers as fans were beginning to anticipate our arrival. Bands were playing loudly, cheerleaders were jumping and screaming, and fans were in a frenzy ready for the onslaught to begin.

I have repeated the next statement many times in my life. Today, I live a life of pain. Every day my knees, ankles, back, neck, shoulder and elbow hurt so bad that I have trouble moving on cold mornings. I have a dead spot on my brain from my 6 concussions. My nose clogs or bleeds occasionally form the 7 broken noses I suffered. But . . .

“ANY ONE THAT RAN OUT OF THAT TUNNEL ONE TIME, LISTENING TO 20,000 PEOPLE SCREAMING FOR YOUR TEAM AND SCREAMING YOUR NAME, FULLY EXPECTING YOU TO WIN A GAME FOR THEM . . . THEN THAT FEELING IS WORTH A LIFETIME OF PAIN!!!”

My Journal 049

So I’ve got a favor to ask. Send a friend to my page. I need more followers (Not that I don’t appreciate the "hotties" I have now) Just make sure it’s a female and she’s hot! J OK, the hot part is not important; I just don’t want a bunch of dudes reading my stuff.

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I’ve had a real busy few days and a lot on my mind lately. Nope, it’s nothing earth shattering. It’s just time to make another change in my world. Even though I am ready for a change, I do have to plan it out step by step.

NO, I AM NOT ANAL!

I am a very organized person. I enjoy planning things to a “T”. I am competitive, so I take the plan I created and score it based on reality. Then I compare it to other plans and rate, or score, myself. But don’t worry that I am not a risk taker. That’s why god invented alcohol. And I’ve done some really wild shit when drunk before.

I want to do a questionnaire, but I have no idea how you will be able to respond. Not everyone knows how to reach me. And of course the questions I will ask will probably get this web page shut down.

For example, “What is your favorite sexual position and why?”

[See what I mean]

Ok, now for some end of week shout outs!

Bananarama – I’m all over dinner and a movie!

Sunshine – Did you wear your pin yesterday? Oh, have a great trip!

Latin Lover – Hello??? Where is my free drink?

Sexy Sara – Invitation? Me? Woohoo!

Today I want to tell you about my old friend Frank. We met in 1978 (or maybe 1979). He was assigned to the Army Special Forces. He worked with me about 5 times back then. If you looked at him you would guess that he was a librarian or something. He was small in stature and not very social. But he had skills.

First, he was a computer genius / hacker. He could get into anything. Now back then this skill was valuable. But when he retired this skill became incredibly financially rewarding to him. He would find out everything about anyone for a fee. I was always amazed how much information is out there about people. And not just stuff on the internet. He could get his hands on all sorts of stuff.

Second, he was the mechanic. He could see things in his head that no one else could see. If you needed to get to Nowhere, Iowa; in his mind immediately this plan would begin to form. He could see every possible pitfall, and have a secondary plan in mind instantly. His mind was amazing. And he never wrote anything down. It was all engraved in his mind.

It’s difficult to say how many times he saved lives with a note or a call. I’m guessing he saved my butt at least 5 times. But to him that was just his job. Nothing to him was personal, it was all just data.

We became friends during our time together. We remained friends until today (Yes, even though he passed I still consider him a friend). But our friendship wasn’t like a normal friendship. We are both very direct and honest, so most of our conversations ended in arguments. But nothing was ever taken as personal, well almost never.

My only regret with Frank is that our last conversation was in fact an argument that may have been sort of personal. Maybe not to him, but it was to me. I also had agreed to help him, and bailed out on him at the last possible moment. He wasn’t real happy. So our last chat didn’t go well.

I’d love to have that time back. As usual, the point he was making in our argument proved to be true; which made me feel even worse. Basically (without going into details), the reason I bailed (which was from my heart and not my mind) was valid to me at the moment I decided. He told me I was wrong and could prove it. He never made decisions from the heart. I didn’t want his proof; I preferred to go with my gut. Within a day I realized that my gut was wrong.

But I am a much better person today because of what I learned from him. And it is very possible that if he wasn’t as brilliant as he was, I wouldn’t be here today.

So if you enjoy my words, my company, or my friendship; then you owe Frank a big “THANK YOU” also. This is why I bring him up today.

He is buried just south of Mexico City. I will visit him once a year. I visited him recently and he’s doing great . . . and he loves you as much as I do. He would just never tell you, but I will.

Have a great weekend.