Well, here it is November - we've passed by Halloween, and I've had this thought to write about for a while now, but it's a very touchy subject and I'm sure I'll get a lot of comments either way on it, but it is disturbing me more and more every time I see it.
In yesterday's NY Daily News, they posted a picture of Miley Cyrus at the MTV Europe Awards wearing a "dress" that when she turned sideways, which she did on purpose, exposed almost her entire left breast. Invariably, she did this to show off her new tattoo, but still...Miley Cyrus is 17 years old. The picture in question:
http://assets.nydailynews.com/img/2010/11/09/alg_miley_cyrus1.jpg
I don't think Miley Cyrus has a lick of talent at all, but that being said, there are a lot of little girls that do - and who want nothing more than to be like her. I just don't think that's appropriate at all.
I don't watch Gossip Girl, but I keep hearing the name Taylor Momsen. I remember the name because she played Cindy Lou Who in the Jim Carrey movie version of "How The Grinch Stole Christmas." Taylor Momsen is now 17, and supposedly the "singer" in a band as well as an actress. She poses and performs with her bra and panties out, and reportedly flashed her breasts at the crowd during a "performance" recently.
I have a stepson about to turn 14. He is in 8th grade, and from time to time I am with him when he sees his friends. He likes to wear the baggy jeans that show off the top of his boxers. His friends do too. As Denis Leary so elegantly put it years ago, it's called under-****ing-wear for a reason - it's supposed to be UNDER your clothes.
That bothers me - but it doesn't frighten me. What frightens me is what the girls his age - and younger - are "wearing". Jeans hung so low on the waist that the butt crack is exposed. Tops that are cut down WAAAAYYY too low. It used to be a girl was embarrassed if a bra strap was showing - now they wear tank tops where the entire back of the bra is exposed, down to the clasp.
I have a daughter. She will be 7 in February, so thankfully, I don't have to worry about her....yet. The world is a different place - much more different from when I was growing up. You rarely ever read stories about kids being abducted, sexually assaulted, killed and found in garbage dumps when my generation was younger - but kids didn't dress like slutty adults back then.
Parents, I implore you....please look a little closer at how your kids are dressing. When Emily gets older, I don't care if she thinks I'm the worst Dad in the world...she will respect me, her mother and most importantly, HERSELF by dressing appropriately.
I never thought I'd see the day when Halloween costumes were LESS trampy than everyday clothes. Welcome to 2010.
Comments are always welcome - I really want some opinions on this. If you think I'm wrong, explain to me how I am.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Time does NOT heal all wounds......
Today is October 20. Today is quite possibly, out of the 365 (sometimes 366) days of the year, the one day I dread most. The following is completely true - and way too ironic for it not to be.
October 20, 1994 - my older sister Betty is pregnant with her second child. The labor starts and I am at home, awaiting the arrival of a new niece. Unfortunately, after carrying her daughter full term, Kristen May Nicolato would never breathe one breath of life. She was born, but did not survive. Her stone lies in Hyde Park Rural Cemetery with but one date on it - the day she was born and passed into Heaven. October 20, 1994.
October 20, 1995 - exactly one year later. I was working at the time for Albank in the Poughkeepsie Galleria Mall. I was supposed to have the week off, and my father was heading to Albany to have heart surgery. My boss at the time was a completely emotionless woman and would not allow my vacation time, so my entire family except for me drove up to Albany to bring my father there for his surgery. From what everyone told me on the night before his surgery, he was laughing and joking and in a fantastic mood. Perhaps he knew something we didn't know.
Dad is scheduled for his surgery - but there are major complications. He "threw a clot" on the operating table - a blood clot floated through and basically ended any hope for my father to ever be normal again. It is my understanding that in most instances, this proves immediately fatal, but you had to know how tough my father was. He somehow survived, if you want to call it that.
As the family made our way to Albany to visit, we meet with the doctor, who basically informs us in a voice that sounded like he was giving us his lunch menu that we would have some decisions to make. Dad had suffered severe brain damage, and he would have to have one leg amputated. He would never be "normal" again, but he was fighting - and still alive. We all said our "See you laters" - because I knew what "Goodbye" was going to mean. One by one we all talked to him. I grabbed his hand, and looked down at the table at this man who had been my everything growing up. I swear I felt the tiniest squeeze as I told him I loved him and I kissed his cheek. I waited by the door for my Mother, who finally said "If you can't fight anymore, that's OK - we'll be alright." This was October 20, 1995 - and before we made it home from Albany to Staatsburg, Dad listened to Mom - and finally gave up the fight.
We got home and there were about 8 messages from the hospital on the machine - and when Mom called them, she sat in his chair - Dad's chair - and all I heard as she had the phone to her ear was "He what?" As she hung up the phone, she stared straight ahead and I heard her voice quiver and all she could say was "He's gone."
In that instant, October 20th became the one day on the calendar I would dread for the rest of my time here. I lost a niece that I never had the chance to know, and I lost the man who was there for me for everything - not just sports. I was 25 years old and confused. I had never experienced a loss like that before and I didn't know how to handle it. Needless to say, I didn't handle it well. To this day, I can not hear "Amazing Grace" without crying, because that's what was played at Dad's funeral. I can hear my mother say "I can't do this" as Rob Sweet from Sweet's Funeral Home handed her a folded American Flag - my father's honor for serving in the Air Force.
16 years have passed since Kristen passed - and I wonder what kind of young lady she would have been. I was lucky in that less than a year later, my sister did try again, and my niece Lauren was born. I'd like to think that there is a lot of Kristen in her, but I will never know.
15 years have passed since Dad passed. Emily asks about her "Grandpa Winters" every now and then because his picture is up in my downstairs family room, over a shelf that has a candle, a bottle of his old cologne, and his American Flag tie tack that he wore every day for work. I told Emily that Grandpa Winters got too sick to stay here, and that for him to not feel pain, he had to go to Heaven, and he has to stay there so he doesn't hurt anymore. Unfortunately, I still hurt.
It gets pretty tough to type through eyes that are welled up with tears, but I am not ashamed to cry about it. I do every year. The tattoo of the New York Rangers logo on my left arm is my tribute to him, because we used to watch the games together all the time, and the left arm is closer to my heart.
As I end this entry, this is for you Dad. I love you - I always have, I always will. Thank you for the 25 years I got to spend with you. Someday, we'll have a catch again. I miss you so much.....
October 20, 1994 - my older sister Betty is pregnant with her second child. The labor starts and I am at home, awaiting the arrival of a new niece. Unfortunately, after carrying her daughter full term, Kristen May Nicolato would never breathe one breath of life. She was born, but did not survive. Her stone lies in Hyde Park Rural Cemetery with but one date on it - the day she was born and passed into Heaven. October 20, 1994.
October 20, 1995 - exactly one year later. I was working at the time for Albank in the Poughkeepsie Galleria Mall. I was supposed to have the week off, and my father was heading to Albany to have heart surgery. My boss at the time was a completely emotionless woman and would not allow my vacation time, so my entire family except for me drove up to Albany to bring my father there for his surgery. From what everyone told me on the night before his surgery, he was laughing and joking and in a fantastic mood. Perhaps he knew something we didn't know.
Dad is scheduled for his surgery - but there are major complications. He "threw a clot" on the operating table - a blood clot floated through and basically ended any hope for my father to ever be normal again. It is my understanding that in most instances, this proves immediately fatal, but you had to know how tough my father was. He somehow survived, if you want to call it that.
As the family made our way to Albany to visit, we meet with the doctor, who basically informs us in a voice that sounded like he was giving us his lunch menu that we would have some decisions to make. Dad had suffered severe brain damage, and he would have to have one leg amputated. He would never be "normal" again, but he was fighting - and still alive. We all said our "See you laters" - because I knew what "Goodbye" was going to mean. One by one we all talked to him. I grabbed his hand, and looked down at the table at this man who had been my everything growing up. I swear I felt the tiniest squeeze as I told him I loved him and I kissed his cheek. I waited by the door for my Mother, who finally said "If you can't fight anymore, that's OK - we'll be alright." This was October 20, 1995 - and before we made it home from Albany to Staatsburg, Dad listened to Mom - and finally gave up the fight.
We got home and there were about 8 messages from the hospital on the machine - and when Mom called them, she sat in his chair - Dad's chair - and all I heard as she had the phone to her ear was "He what?" As she hung up the phone, she stared straight ahead and I heard her voice quiver and all she could say was "He's gone."
In that instant, October 20th became the one day on the calendar I would dread for the rest of my time here. I lost a niece that I never had the chance to know, and I lost the man who was there for me for everything - not just sports. I was 25 years old and confused. I had never experienced a loss like that before and I didn't know how to handle it. Needless to say, I didn't handle it well. To this day, I can not hear "Amazing Grace" without crying, because that's what was played at Dad's funeral. I can hear my mother say "I can't do this" as Rob Sweet from Sweet's Funeral Home handed her a folded American Flag - my father's honor for serving in the Air Force.
16 years have passed since Kristen passed - and I wonder what kind of young lady she would have been. I was lucky in that less than a year later, my sister did try again, and my niece Lauren was born. I'd like to think that there is a lot of Kristen in her, but I will never know.
15 years have passed since Dad passed. Emily asks about her "Grandpa Winters" every now and then because his picture is up in my downstairs family room, over a shelf that has a candle, a bottle of his old cologne, and his American Flag tie tack that he wore every day for work. I told Emily that Grandpa Winters got too sick to stay here, and that for him to not feel pain, he had to go to Heaven, and he has to stay there so he doesn't hurt anymore. Unfortunately, I still hurt.
It gets pretty tough to type through eyes that are welled up with tears, but I am not ashamed to cry about it. I do every year. The tattoo of the New York Rangers logo on my left arm is my tribute to him, because we used to watch the games together all the time, and the left arm is closer to my heart.
As I end this entry, this is for you Dad. I love you - I always have, I always will. Thank you for the 25 years I got to spend with you. Someday, we'll have a catch again. I miss you so much.....
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
"I get by with a little help from my friends" - an interview with my friend Jamie Robinson.
Hello everyone - it is Tuesday again, and Bill has the day off, so I make a foray into the blogosphere. I have had this idea for a while, and since I am thinking a lot about him today as he prepares for knee surgery, I wanted to introduce you to my friend Jamie Robinson.
Jamie has been my friend since high school, and I know I gave him a shout out on my "turning 40" entry, but for those of you who don't know him, his sense of humor is as twisted as mine, he writes a blog that is similar to mine, and I basically witnessed both of us grow to (reasonably) responsible adults from dumb high school kids.
I recently visited Jamie in Virginia and asked him some questions, and his answers are word for word how he said them - nothing has been changed to protect anybody.
How did we meet? It occurred one of two ways: either a woman releases two eggs instead of the usual one or she produces only one egg that divides after fertilization. If she releases two eggs, which are fertilized by separate sperm, she has fraternal twins. When a single, fertilized egg divides and separates, she has identical or paternal twins. And this, my friend, is where it all began.
Craziest thing we've ever done? Wow...where do I begin? It is like a Lays potato chip...you can't have just one. I guess I would have to go with the "day/night double header". Anytime you bring a CASE of 40s to a party, crazy things are bound to happen!
(Jamie and I went to a field party years ago that included a case of Olde English 800 40 oz bottles, and wound up with me trying to ride a bike with two flat tires to get him as he had passed out in the grass near a picket fence - I told you were stupid when we were younger. We convinced his father that we attended a day/night doubleheader in NYC to cover for where we were, as his father is not a sports fan and would have no idea if that was true or not.)
Best memory of us together? After much consideration, I would have to give you an honest answer for once and say being asked to officiate your wedding. To be able to stand there in front of everyone and share that day with you (and for you to still be married!) was a great memory that I will never lose.
Worst fight we ever had? I agree with you on this one, I can't remember any fights. If I had to pick a time that was not centered around a video game...I would say the incident with the crushed car door.
(Somehow my door was left opened and my car was backed up into something that wedged the door.)
Favorite food? Either pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese from CJ's, or a Make Your Own Sunday from Stewart's.
(I didn't have the heart to tell him that CJ's has been closed for over 10 years)
Favorite beverage? I am quite partial to Maudite (from the Unibroue brewery in Canada) or Red Birch Beer.
(I sampled Maudite when I visited him - it is a truly unique beer. I loved it too.)
Music? Music is such a difficult thing to narrow down. Which genre do I choose? I am an old school hip hop lover, so in that area I would choose Slick Rick or Boogie Down Productions. New music? Five Finger Death Punch. If I had to choose an OVERALL favorite, I always fall back on Jethro Tull. When you name your eldest son after the lead singer of a band and get their album art tattooed on your body, you must be a fan.
(Jamie's first son is named Ian Andrew - Jethro Tull's lead singer is Ian Anderson, and Jamie has a Jack-in-the Green tattooed on his arm)
Movie? This is also a toss up. How does one decide on ONE favorite movie? I will narrow it down to two for the purpose of this interview. Army of Darkness and Boondock Saints. Army of Darkness because Bruce Campbell is a GOD. Boondock Saints because... it's Boondock F***ing Saints! If you don't know..see this movie NOW.
Book? Favorite book is easy, hands down, "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal" by Christopher Moore. If you have never read this book, go buy it now. If you do not laugh out loud, I will personally refund your money.
Fill in the blank "If I hadn't met Bill, I would never have known about......" The wonders of wine coolers in the back of a school bus!
(I brought wine coolers onto the bus for a band trip in school - Jamie was Teflon Don - drank more than anyone, and was the ONLY one not to get in trouble. Well played, sir, well played!)
Please take a moment to read his blog as well:
http://h8rdsox.blogspot.com
Thank you Jamie - for everything past present and future!
I hope you enjoyed the first of what I hope to be many interviews in this space. Comments as always are welcome. Until next time.....
Jamie has been my friend since high school, and I know I gave him a shout out on my "turning 40" entry, but for those of you who don't know him, his sense of humor is as twisted as mine, he writes a blog that is similar to mine, and I basically witnessed both of us grow to (reasonably) responsible adults from dumb high school kids.
I recently visited Jamie in Virginia and asked him some questions, and his answers are word for word how he said them - nothing has been changed to protect anybody.
How did we meet? It occurred one of two ways: either a woman releases two eggs instead of the usual one or she produces only one egg that divides after fertilization. If she releases two eggs, which are fertilized by separate sperm, she has fraternal twins. When a single, fertilized egg divides and separates, she has identical or paternal twins. And this, my friend, is where it all began.
Craziest thing we've ever done? Wow...where do I begin? It is like a Lays potato chip...you can't have just one. I guess I would have to go with the "day/night double header". Anytime you bring a CASE of 40s to a party, crazy things are bound to happen!
(Jamie and I went to a field party years ago that included a case of Olde English 800 40 oz bottles, and wound up with me trying to ride a bike with two flat tires to get him as he had passed out in the grass near a picket fence - I told you were stupid when we were younger. We convinced his father that we attended a day/night doubleheader in NYC to cover for where we were, as his father is not a sports fan and would have no idea if that was true or not.)
Best memory of us together? After much consideration, I would have to give you an honest answer for once and say being asked to officiate your wedding. To be able to stand there in front of everyone and share that day with you (and for you to still be married!) was a great memory that I will never lose.
Worst fight we ever had? I agree with you on this one, I can't remember any fights. If I had to pick a time that was not centered around a video game...I would say the incident with the crushed car door.
(Somehow my door was left opened and my car was backed up into something that wedged the door.)
Favorite food? Either pizza with pepperoni and extra cheese from CJ's, or a Make Your Own Sunday from Stewart's.
(I didn't have the heart to tell him that CJ's has been closed for over 10 years)
Favorite beverage? I am quite partial to Maudite (from the Unibroue brewery in Canada) or Red Birch Beer.
(I sampled Maudite when I visited him - it is a truly unique beer. I loved it too.)
Music? Music is such a difficult thing to narrow down. Which genre do I choose? I am an old school hip hop lover, so in that area I would choose Slick Rick or Boogie Down Productions. New music? Five Finger Death Punch. If I had to choose an OVERALL favorite, I always fall back on Jethro Tull. When you name your eldest son after the lead singer of a band and get their album art tattooed on your body, you must be a fan.
(Jamie's first son is named Ian Andrew - Jethro Tull's lead singer is Ian Anderson, and Jamie has a Jack-in-the Green tattooed on his arm)
Movie? This is also a toss up. How does one decide on ONE favorite movie? I will narrow it down to two for the purpose of this interview. Army of Darkness and Boondock Saints. Army of Darkness because Bruce Campbell is a GOD. Boondock Saints because... it's Boondock F***ing Saints! If you don't know..see this movie NOW.
Book? Favorite book is easy, hands down, "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal" by Christopher Moore. If you have never read this book, go buy it now. If you do not laugh out loud, I will personally refund your money.
Fill in the blank "If I hadn't met Bill, I would never have known about......" The wonders of wine coolers in the back of a school bus!
(I brought wine coolers onto the bus for a band trip in school - Jamie was Teflon Don - drank more than anyone, and was the ONLY one not to get in trouble. Well played, sir, well played!)
Please take a moment to read his blog as well:
http://h8rdsox.blogspot.com
Thank you Jamie - for everything past present and future!
I hope you enjoyed the first of what I hope to be many interviews in this space. Comments as always are welcome. Until next time.....
Monday, August 23, 2010
Back To School - Good. Back To School Shopping - Not so much....
HELLO EVERYONE. I JUST GOT BACK FROM THE MALL. I WENT SCHOOL SHOPPING TODAY FOR THREE CHILDREN AND THE REASON I AM SHOUTING IS BECAUSE MY EARS HAVEN'T STOPPED RINGING FROM THE RIDICULOUS MUSIC AT EACH OF THE STORES MY KIDS LIKE TO SHOP IN. WAIT...HOLD ON...that's a little better.
Ever since I was in school myself, I hated school shopping. Every summer Mom would take us to get new clothes, and every summer Dad would be dumbstruck as to how much they cost. "$20 for a pair of dungarees?" Just typing that word made me smile as I thought of him - the only man I knew who called jeans dungarees. We'd get our new school clothes, new sneakers, and a haircut usually the day before school started. We'd get a couple of pencils, a couple of pens, a Trapper Keeper and some paper. That was it. Now - you have to mortgage the house to school shop for three kids.
Starting with school supplies - each one of my three had a full page list of what was "required" for them to bring to school. Basically it was something along the lines of 14 packs of pencils, 12 packs of pens, 17 boxes of tissues, 212 marble notebooks (not spiral anymore), 37 glue sticks, Dry-erase markers, and a partridge in a pear tree. Oh - and a U-Haul rental to get all this crap into school for the first day. Apparently not only do I have to supply MY kids with this stuff, but they put it all together as a "community" so I'm potentially buying notebooks for the kid down the road that throws rocks at my kid on the playground.
I have three kids - this year, they are going into 8th, 4th, and 1st grades. The 1st grader is Emily - she was easy. She got a TON of clothes given to her that were never worn by a girl who doesn't like "girly" clothes. Emily's school clothes shopping consisted of underwear, socks, and sneakers. Cole and Wyatt are a different story. Cole basically informed us that if we picked it out, he wasn't wearing it. Everything these two like has to have something to do with that god-awful skateboarding culture. Because of this, the majority of their shopping yesterday was done at Hot Topic, Zumiez, PacSun - all the stores that charge an extra $15 because the bag says "Hot Topic" "Zumiez" or "PacSun" on it. These are also the stores that blast the music louder than I play it in the car. Music that I think the "employees" (I won't call them workers, because all I saw was slacker looking kids sitting around looking mad that they had to actually get up and take care of us as we spent a lot of money in their store) choose from their personal collections. There was a ton of unintelligible screaming and a couple of F-bombs in the "music" we were serenaded with. That's especially nice when I have my 6 year old with me.
I understand that fitting in is important - probably because I never quite fit in with any one group when I was in school. I know that if their friends find out they got their jeans at Target, they'll get picked on. Well, it's 2010. None of us has a ton of money, so we shop where it makes the most sense. Ironically, Hot Topic had a nice sale on their jeans yesterday so they may have been the cheapest place we went. Janel had to tell me this though - I had to go out in the hallway with Emily because I didn't want her subjected to the loud, inappropriate for a public shopping setting music I was blessed with.
I actually stated yesterday that I would rather have the back of my legs shaved with a cheese grater and then squat in a bowl of alcohol than to go through that ordeal again. The boys ended up with some decent clothes, but with what we had to endure....I think I'll stay home next year.
I know many of you have kids. Share your experiences. Comment freely - let me know that others share my pain. Comments here or Facebook welcomed as always.
Ever since I was in school myself, I hated school shopping. Every summer Mom would take us to get new clothes, and every summer Dad would be dumbstruck as to how much they cost. "$20 for a pair of dungarees?" Just typing that word made me smile as I thought of him - the only man I knew who called jeans dungarees. We'd get our new school clothes, new sneakers, and a haircut usually the day before school started. We'd get a couple of pencils, a couple of pens, a Trapper Keeper and some paper. That was it. Now - you have to mortgage the house to school shop for three kids.
Starting with school supplies - each one of my three had a full page list of what was "required" for them to bring to school. Basically it was something along the lines of 14 packs of pencils, 12 packs of pens, 17 boxes of tissues, 212 marble notebooks (not spiral anymore), 37 glue sticks, Dry-erase markers, and a partridge in a pear tree. Oh - and a U-Haul rental to get all this crap into school for the first day. Apparently not only do I have to supply MY kids with this stuff, but they put it all together as a "community" so I'm potentially buying notebooks for the kid down the road that throws rocks at my kid on the playground.
I have three kids - this year, they are going into 8th, 4th, and 1st grades. The 1st grader is Emily - she was easy. She got a TON of clothes given to her that were never worn by a girl who doesn't like "girly" clothes. Emily's school clothes shopping consisted of underwear, socks, and sneakers. Cole and Wyatt are a different story. Cole basically informed us that if we picked it out, he wasn't wearing it. Everything these two like has to have something to do with that god-awful skateboarding culture. Because of this, the majority of their shopping yesterday was done at Hot Topic, Zumiez, PacSun - all the stores that charge an extra $15 because the bag says "Hot Topic" "Zumiez" or "PacSun" on it. These are also the stores that blast the music louder than I play it in the car. Music that I think the "employees" (I won't call them workers, because all I saw was slacker looking kids sitting around looking mad that they had to actually get up and take care of us as we spent a lot of money in their store) choose from their personal collections. There was a ton of unintelligible screaming and a couple of F-bombs in the "music" we were serenaded with. That's especially nice when I have my 6 year old with me.
I understand that fitting in is important - probably because I never quite fit in with any one group when I was in school. I know that if their friends find out they got their jeans at Target, they'll get picked on. Well, it's 2010. None of us has a ton of money, so we shop where it makes the most sense. Ironically, Hot Topic had a nice sale on their jeans yesterday so they may have been the cheapest place we went. Janel had to tell me this though - I had to go out in the hallway with Emily because I didn't want her subjected to the loud, inappropriate for a public shopping setting music I was blessed with.
I actually stated yesterday that I would rather have the back of my legs shaved with a cheese grater and then squat in a bowl of alcohol than to go through that ordeal again. The boys ended up with some decent clothes, but with what we had to endure....I think I'll stay home next year.
I know many of you have kids. Share your experiences. Comment freely - let me know that others share my pain. Comments here or Facebook welcomed as always.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Lordy Lordy - Bill hits 40
Well, the Day of Reckoning has happened upon me - I have officially lived 40 years on this little insignificant blue and green marble known as Earth. It's been quite an interesting ride to say the least. I thought I'd go back into the WABAC machine (that's for you, Dan Jones!) and share the triumphs and tribulations, the good times and bad, the "Joy and Pain" as it were in the first 40 years.
August 10, 1970 - The #1 song in the country was (They Long To Be) Close To You by The Carpenters , Richard Nixon was the President of the United States, and in Kingston Hospital, Kingston, NY a little boy was born to James and Etta Winters. They named him William Michael. This was the beginning of a long ride.
I have always worn glasses as long as I can remember, since age 3. Because of this, whenever I see a child age 4 or under with glasses, my heart warms a little bit, because I was that kid. I was always a smart kid - too smart for my own good sometimes. I remember in 1st grade winning a big jar of jelly beans because you had to guess how many were there - I seem to remember staring at that jar for about 5 minutes before I wrote my answer down - and I was only off by 15. I was geek before geek was acceptable. The glasses only made it worse - see, in the 1970's, there were only thick black frames - and that was me!
I was always a gangly kid - skinny, with a bad haircut, and glasses that were too big for my face. I played baseball, football, and hockey as a kid, and because I was small, I had to work harder at them to be good. I did OK at all 3, but I loved hockey more than all of them. I played for my High School team - the F.D. Roosevelt Presidents. When I was a freshman, I suffered a pretty bad neck injury during practice that haunts me to this day when the weather gets damp.
My senior year, I had my first serious girlfriend. Thank you Christine. I am so happy to still consider you a great friend today. Your family is beautiful - you were my Winnie Cooper! Tell John I said Hi, then tell me how quick his middle finger goes up.
After High School, I started work immediately, thinking I'd take a summer job before going to college. I got a job working for Pawling Savings Bank, which is now through 10 name changes, TD Bank. I stayed in banking and finance for the better part of 20 years. More on that later.....
In my 20's, I had some terrible things happen. I lost my father on October 20, 1995 - and even though I was 25 at the time, I felt like a lost little kid. My Dad was the rock of our family - always driving us where we needed to go, coaching baseball teams, going to every game of every sport my brothers and I played. To this day, 15 years later, I think about him every day, and I talk to him every day. Thank you Dad for everything you did for all of us, and for teaching me how to be a Dad.
In 1996 I met who I shall refer to as Lord Voldemort - she remains nameless in this house. Emotions can be a strange thing, and timing can throw you off, and because of those two factors, Lord Voldemort and I were married in 1999. I remember distinctly hearing my brother say during pictures "This won't last 6 months." Well, he was wrong - it lasted 9. Everything about it was wrong, and everyone tried to tell me, but I was too stubborn to listen and didn't want anyone thinking they knew better than me what was right for me. Pride is a hard thing to swallow, but then again anything is hard to swallow when you take the equivalent of a kick to the groin. I was separated in 2000 and the divorce was finalized in 2001. Many of you know who Lord Voldemort is - if you don't, I won't divulge it. It's a part of my past that I regret. The only good thing about it was that it caused me a few years later to really make sure I found the right woman if I was to ever do it again. More on that in a bit.
My 30's were my reform and recovery period. I was angry, and depressed about what had happened to me so I threw myself into my work. I worked 80 hour weeks regularly for the bank, and I had good success because of it. That was my focus because up to that point, I had nothing more important to focus on. Then, I re-met Janel. Janel and I had met years before, but due to a lot of factors (mainly age difference) it was nothing that could go anywhere. Janel has always been the one who "gets" me - and I "get" her. I decided to hop back in the marriage saddle, and we got married on 05/04/03, so that it would be easy for me to remember. Janel had two sons when I met back up with her. Wyatt was 5 at the time, and Cole was just about to turn 2. They are now 13 and 9. I have had the joy and pleasure of watching these two grow up and play baseball and hockey, and I am proud of both of them. I may not be their biological father, but I would take a bullet for either one of them.
Emily was born in 2004 and she is my crown jewel. She's 6 1/2 now, and to think in 10 years, when I'm writing about turning 50, she'll be 16 1/2. I don't want her to grow up anymore - I didn't want her to grow past an infant, but I am so anxious to see what she will be. All three of these kids have my interest peaked as to what they're going to be. I hate the word "potential" because "potential" to me means "hasn't done anything yet", but the potential for all 3 of these kids to be much more successful than I am is very very strong. I just hope I can help them get there.
I got burned out of the financial industry, and I think it got burned out of me, so I went back to school in 2009 and now I am a Medical Assistant. It doesn't pay as well as managing a bank did, but I love what I do, I'm not working 80 hour weeks, and I actually feel like I'm helping people. Trust me, from being on the other side of it, when your bank says they want to help you, they only want to help you if you are viable to them in generating revenue.
As I think about wrapping this up, because in reality, this has gone all over the map and I didn't plan it going this way, there are so many friends I have made over these first 40 years, it would be impossible to list them all, but I do have to mention two by name. Jamie Robinson is the first. Jay, you have always been the guy I could talk to for 2 hours at a time about absolutely nothing and wind up laughing at everything. Nobody understands ANYTHING we say to each other - but if say "80 Penguins", you'll say "Snorting Cream Cheese" and we'll both get it immediately. You also have been instrumental in my love of music. I would never have discovered the sheer joy that is listening to Jethro Tull if it hadn't been for you. You never judge. You drink God-awful malt liquor. You are the twin brother I never had. Thank you brother. Mark Watt - you were the best man for me not once, but twice. You stand by me whenever I need it, as I do for you. We started as skate guards together at the Civic Center, and you are directly responsible for me meeting Janel the first time, and I can never thank you enough for that. You are also the twin brother I never had.
My family - thanks for sticking by me when I get stupid. Mom - thanks for everything you have done. You are the best - and it isn't even a close race. Judy, Tony, Rob, Jenny, Betty, Neal, Amanda, Lauren, Jim, Jo, Megan, Rob, Lisa, Katie (who I can't wait to meet!), Sandy, Seth, Adam, and Andrew - I love you all, and if it wasn't for you, this 40 years would have been unbearable.
All of you who follow this blog, thank you for sharing an interest in my ramblings. I would have shut this down a long time ago if I thought nobody cared what I had to say, but I appreciate every one of your opinions, and I consider each friend I have to be a cherished possession. Through 40 years, I have made quite a few, and I'm happy to say I've kept most of them. The Grateful Dead once sang the line "What a long, strange trip it's been." I can't wait to see where it leads.
See you around....
Bill
August 10, 1970 - The #1 song in the country was (They Long To Be) Close To You by The Carpenters , Richard Nixon was the President of the United States, and in Kingston Hospital, Kingston, NY a little boy was born to James and Etta Winters. They named him William Michael. This was the beginning of a long ride.
I have always worn glasses as long as I can remember, since age 3. Because of this, whenever I see a child age 4 or under with glasses, my heart warms a little bit, because I was that kid. I was always a smart kid - too smart for my own good sometimes. I remember in 1st grade winning a big jar of jelly beans because you had to guess how many were there - I seem to remember staring at that jar for about 5 minutes before I wrote my answer down - and I was only off by 15. I was geek before geek was acceptable. The glasses only made it worse - see, in the 1970's, there were only thick black frames - and that was me!
I was always a gangly kid - skinny, with a bad haircut, and glasses that were too big for my face. I played baseball, football, and hockey as a kid, and because I was small, I had to work harder at them to be good. I did OK at all 3, but I loved hockey more than all of them. I played for my High School team - the F.D. Roosevelt Presidents. When I was a freshman, I suffered a pretty bad neck injury during practice that haunts me to this day when the weather gets damp.
My senior year, I had my first serious girlfriend. Thank you Christine. I am so happy to still consider you a great friend today. Your family is beautiful - you were my Winnie Cooper! Tell John I said Hi, then tell me how quick his middle finger goes up.
After High School, I started work immediately, thinking I'd take a summer job before going to college. I got a job working for Pawling Savings Bank, which is now through 10 name changes, TD Bank. I stayed in banking and finance for the better part of 20 years. More on that later.....
In my 20's, I had some terrible things happen. I lost my father on October 20, 1995 - and even though I was 25 at the time, I felt like a lost little kid. My Dad was the rock of our family - always driving us where we needed to go, coaching baseball teams, going to every game of every sport my brothers and I played. To this day, 15 years later, I think about him every day, and I talk to him every day. Thank you Dad for everything you did for all of us, and for teaching me how to be a Dad.
In 1996 I met who I shall refer to as Lord Voldemort - she remains nameless in this house. Emotions can be a strange thing, and timing can throw you off, and because of those two factors, Lord Voldemort and I were married in 1999. I remember distinctly hearing my brother say during pictures "This won't last 6 months." Well, he was wrong - it lasted 9. Everything about it was wrong, and everyone tried to tell me, but I was too stubborn to listen and didn't want anyone thinking they knew better than me what was right for me. Pride is a hard thing to swallow, but then again anything is hard to swallow when you take the equivalent of a kick to the groin. I was separated in 2000 and the divorce was finalized in 2001. Many of you know who Lord Voldemort is - if you don't, I won't divulge it. It's a part of my past that I regret. The only good thing about it was that it caused me a few years later to really make sure I found the right woman if I was to ever do it again. More on that in a bit.
My 30's were my reform and recovery period. I was angry, and depressed about what had happened to me so I threw myself into my work. I worked 80 hour weeks regularly for the bank, and I had good success because of it. That was my focus because up to that point, I had nothing more important to focus on. Then, I re-met Janel. Janel and I had met years before, but due to a lot of factors (mainly age difference) it was nothing that could go anywhere. Janel has always been the one who "gets" me - and I "get" her. I decided to hop back in the marriage saddle, and we got married on 05/04/03, so that it would be easy for me to remember. Janel had two sons when I met back up with her. Wyatt was 5 at the time, and Cole was just about to turn 2. They are now 13 and 9. I have had the joy and pleasure of watching these two grow up and play baseball and hockey, and I am proud of both of them. I may not be their biological father, but I would take a bullet for either one of them.
Emily was born in 2004 and she is my crown jewel. She's 6 1/2 now, and to think in 10 years, when I'm writing about turning 50, she'll be 16 1/2. I don't want her to grow up anymore - I didn't want her to grow past an infant, but I am so anxious to see what she will be. All three of these kids have my interest peaked as to what they're going to be. I hate the word "potential" because "potential" to me means "hasn't done anything yet", but the potential for all 3 of these kids to be much more successful than I am is very very strong. I just hope I can help them get there.
I got burned out of the financial industry, and I think it got burned out of me, so I went back to school in 2009 and now I am a Medical Assistant. It doesn't pay as well as managing a bank did, but I love what I do, I'm not working 80 hour weeks, and I actually feel like I'm helping people. Trust me, from being on the other side of it, when your bank says they want to help you, they only want to help you if you are viable to them in generating revenue.
As I think about wrapping this up, because in reality, this has gone all over the map and I didn't plan it going this way, there are so many friends I have made over these first 40 years, it would be impossible to list them all, but I do have to mention two by name. Jamie Robinson is the first. Jay, you have always been the guy I could talk to for 2 hours at a time about absolutely nothing and wind up laughing at everything. Nobody understands ANYTHING we say to each other - but if say "80 Penguins", you'll say "Snorting Cream Cheese" and we'll both get it immediately. You also have been instrumental in my love of music. I would never have discovered the sheer joy that is listening to Jethro Tull if it hadn't been for you. You never judge. You drink God-awful malt liquor. You are the twin brother I never had. Thank you brother. Mark Watt - you were the best man for me not once, but twice. You stand by me whenever I need it, as I do for you. We started as skate guards together at the Civic Center, and you are directly responsible for me meeting Janel the first time, and I can never thank you enough for that. You are also the twin brother I never had.
My family - thanks for sticking by me when I get stupid. Mom - thanks for everything you have done. You are the best - and it isn't even a close race. Judy, Tony, Rob, Jenny, Betty, Neal, Amanda, Lauren, Jim, Jo, Megan, Rob, Lisa, Katie (who I can't wait to meet!), Sandy, Seth, Adam, and Andrew - I love you all, and if it wasn't for you, this 40 years would have been unbearable.
All of you who follow this blog, thank you for sharing an interest in my ramblings. I would have shut this down a long time ago if I thought nobody cared what I had to say, but I appreciate every one of your opinions, and I consider each friend I have to be a cherished possession. Through 40 years, I have made quite a few, and I'm happy to say I've kept most of them. The Grateful Dead once sang the line "What a long, strange trip it's been." I can't wait to see where it leads.
See you around....
Bill
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
When did I get so OLD?
"Hello world....how've you been? Good to see you, my old friend...."
Lady Antebellum - "Hello World"
Now that I've greeted you all - I apologize for the long delay between entries. Life sometimes gets in the way of all the fun stuff I like to do. Like this. Plus, I've had a hectic last few weeks, and that's what I want to discuss today.
For those that night not have seen, about 10 days ago, for a myriad of reasons, I had to have 6 teeth pulled. That's a decent amount of teeth, and although most were in the back, there were a couple in the front that had to go. Countless shots to the mouth over the years with baseballs, hockey pucks, and just bad genetics had rendered these teeth as useless as a politician's promises. So, instead of looking like a picket fence in Mayberry, I had a partial denture made and put in the same day they pulled the teeth. I have had to have it adjusted as the swelling goes down, but on the whole I'm pretty happy with it. My speech was affected for a few days, and I'm still getting used to eating regular food with it, but it's getting better every day. My point is this. I am not yet 40 - less than a month away, but still, not yet 40. I now have false teeth. I will be 40 on August 10. I am officially becoming an old person - and like most old people, my memory is starting to go - because I don't remember how this happened. It seems like yesterday I was in High School. Not a care in the world. Now, I have a stepson who is only 2 years away from being there. My appearance changed. I was 155 pounds when I graduated. Now I struggle to stay below 200, no matter what I eat, or how much I exercise, which I really should do more of. I just finished a 4 day Camp for hockey referees where we skated our legs off - and there were kids LESS THAN HALF MY AGE THERE and I'll tell you - it's hard to keep up with 15 and 16 year olds.
I joked the other day that my in-laws taught me a couple of weeks ago how to play Pinochle and that it was a lot of fun, but when I combine playing Pinochle with false teeth and turning 40, I'm about 2 steps away from dark socks with sandals, a fishing hat and "YOU KIDS STAY OFF OF MY GRASS!"
Rest assured, I will not go down without a fight. I still have enough youth in me to look forward to the new Disturbed album coming out August 31!
I pose the question to you all - are you starting to feel old? If so, what was the defining moment where youth slipped away, and going to bed at 10:00 on a semi-regular basis became acceptable? Comments as always are welcome here, or on Facebook under the link to this entry. In the meantime, I better go put my teeth in....
Lady Antebellum - "Hello World"
Now that I've greeted you all - I apologize for the long delay between entries. Life sometimes gets in the way of all the fun stuff I like to do. Like this. Plus, I've had a hectic last few weeks, and that's what I want to discuss today.
For those that night not have seen, about 10 days ago, for a myriad of reasons, I had to have 6 teeth pulled. That's a decent amount of teeth, and although most were in the back, there were a couple in the front that had to go. Countless shots to the mouth over the years with baseballs, hockey pucks, and just bad genetics had rendered these teeth as useless as a politician's promises. So, instead of looking like a picket fence in Mayberry, I had a partial denture made and put in the same day they pulled the teeth. I have had to have it adjusted as the swelling goes down, but on the whole I'm pretty happy with it. My speech was affected for a few days, and I'm still getting used to eating regular food with it, but it's getting better every day. My point is this. I am not yet 40 - less than a month away, but still, not yet 40. I now have false teeth. I will be 40 on August 10. I am officially becoming an old person - and like most old people, my memory is starting to go - because I don't remember how this happened. It seems like yesterday I was in High School. Not a care in the world. Now, I have a stepson who is only 2 years away from being there. My appearance changed. I was 155 pounds when I graduated. Now I struggle to stay below 200, no matter what I eat, or how much I exercise, which I really should do more of. I just finished a 4 day Camp for hockey referees where we skated our legs off - and there were kids LESS THAN HALF MY AGE THERE and I'll tell you - it's hard to keep up with 15 and 16 year olds.
I joked the other day that my in-laws taught me a couple of weeks ago how to play Pinochle and that it was a lot of fun, but when I combine playing Pinochle with false teeth and turning 40, I'm about 2 steps away from dark socks with sandals, a fishing hat and "YOU KIDS STAY OFF OF MY GRASS!"
Rest assured, I will not go down without a fight. I still have enough youth in me to look forward to the new Disturbed album coming out August 31!
I pose the question to you all - are you starting to feel old? If so, what was the defining moment where youth slipped away, and going to bed at 10:00 on a semi-regular basis became acceptable? Comments as always are welcome here, or on Facebook under the link to this entry. In the meantime, I better go put my teeth in....
Monday, June 21, 2010
Where did THAT picture come from, and why did it cost me my job? (Hypothetically of course!)
Hello all - I know it's been a long time - thanks for the not so subtle hint, Lauren! Things have been very busy around here and my work schedule has been a little hectic - but I have a few minutes, so I thought I'd drop a few thoughts.
My wife and I were talking the other night. She works hard, as do I, and every now and then we go out and blow off steam. In the course of blowing off steam, and in this day and age of cameras in everything from phones to iPods, invariably someone is going to want to take pictures - probably because they're too drunk to remember what's happening. Then, these pictures invariably end up posted on Facebook, or MySpace (does anyone use that anymore?) and someone will invariably "tag" these photos so that people know who's in them. One small problem there....
More and more businesses are checking social networking sites like Facebook and MySpace to "check up" on employees. When I was working at the brokerage firm 2 years ago - we had a girl call in sick, and then get in trouble because she made a posting to her MySpace page while she was home. While that was completely wrong - I mean, if I'm home sick, I have every right to use my computer - it's not like calling out and going to a baseball game - I have also heard of people getting fired because there are pics of them drinking and cutting loose. So Janel and I were talking about this, and she believes it should be common courtesy to ask someone if they want to be tagged in photos. I completely agree.
There are also instances of people posting on their Facebook pages that "My job sucks" or "My boss was a real a$$hole today." Brilliant move Einstein - did you forget that 2 months ago, you added your boss as a friend? Where my wife works, the HR director has a FB page, but doesn't add co-workers as friends - yet she still had ME as a friend. I was unaware of this, as was my wife, so I immediately removed her from my friends. I know of employers now that search these things BEFORE HIRING to see if the potential new employee has pictures of themselves chugging it up at a bar, half naked, in compromising positions. The sad thing is, and Facebook should work on this, if you're "tagged" in a photo, not only should you be able to untag yourself, but you should be able to delete the photo. If someone has a pic of me on their FB I don't want up there, to me, that is unauthorized use of my likeness.
The only other option is to break every camera you see......
So, my friends, sound off. What do you think? Let me know!
My wife and I were talking the other night. She works hard, as do I, and every now and then we go out and blow off steam. In the course of blowing off steam, and in this day and age of cameras in everything from phones to iPods, invariably someone is going to want to take pictures - probably because they're too drunk to remember what's happening. Then, these pictures invariably end up posted on Facebook, or MySpace (does anyone use that anymore?) and someone will invariably "tag" these photos so that people know who's in them. One small problem there....
More and more businesses are checking social networking sites like Facebook and MySpace to "check up" on employees. When I was working at the brokerage firm 2 years ago - we had a girl call in sick, and then get in trouble because she made a posting to her MySpace page while she was home. While that was completely wrong - I mean, if I'm home sick, I have every right to use my computer - it's not like calling out and going to a baseball game - I have also heard of people getting fired because there are pics of them drinking and cutting loose. So Janel and I were talking about this, and she believes it should be common courtesy to ask someone if they want to be tagged in photos. I completely agree.
There are also instances of people posting on their Facebook pages that "My job sucks" or "My boss was a real a$$hole today." Brilliant move Einstein - did you forget that 2 months ago, you added your boss as a friend? Where my wife works, the HR director has a FB page, but doesn't add co-workers as friends - yet she still had ME as a friend. I was unaware of this, as was my wife, so I immediately removed her from my friends. I know of employers now that search these things BEFORE HIRING to see if the potential new employee has pictures of themselves chugging it up at a bar, half naked, in compromising positions. The sad thing is, and Facebook should work on this, if you're "tagged" in a photo, not only should you be able to untag yourself, but you should be able to delete the photo. If someone has a pic of me on their FB I don't want up there, to me, that is unauthorized use of my likeness.
The only other option is to break every camera you see......
So, my friends, sound off. What do you think? Let me know!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Lunch hour....or, an hour minus the lunch.
Hello everyone. Long time no write - I apologize about that, but believe me, I'll make up for it here. I'm as frustrated as I have been in a long time. Follow along, and help me out.
I met Janel today for lunch at 12:00. We went to a local establishment with a piece of fruit as their logo (I don't want to mention any names, but it rhymes with Applecee's). We placed our order at the same time as our drinks, consisting of one appetizer, one salad, and a chicken dish. Pretty basic stuff. Our waitress, who I'm sure goes to Marist College across the street from this unnamed restaurant, seemed completely out of sorts when we ordered our drinks and food TOGETHER - because apparently, nobody in the history of restaurant dining has ever done that before. So she took the order and left.
Janel and I are engaging in conversation. She has an hour for lunch, and a meeting at 1:00 that she can't be late for. Our order is taken at 12:10 - that gives plenty of time for a small order to get in and out, and still be out of there on time. I know it does - we've done it many times in the past. During our conversation, it occurs to me that the appetizer is taking longer than usual. I look down at the time and it's 12:30. A little later it's now 12:40 - still just one root beer and a glass of water have made it to the table in what now has become 30 minutes. This includes the waitress - she never came back to check on us. The appetizer arrived at 12:42
You know how when you're in public, and you can see people getting aggravated without them causing too much of a scene? That was us. At 12:45, the manager on duty walks by and asks us how everything is. We calmly state that because my wife is there on lunch, because, you know, it's LUNCH TIME, that we need our order to go now because it has taken so long. Right after he leaves, our waitress, the Marist Mensa Member, comes over and tells us she informed the kitchen and it should be just a few more minutes. It's now 12:49.
We get our check BEFORE THE FOOD ARRIVES. Queen Intelligencia doesn't have a pen in her apron, so she has to run and get another one. I fill out the check, knowing that she's sticking around waiting for me to fill in the tip amount, which I did - to 0.00. We took our copy, took our order, which finally arrived at the table at 12:54 and left. Thankfully, Janel works right up the road, and she got back in time. I pulled out of her workplace at 12:59.
So I make it home within 10 minutes of receiving our food - and my lunch is lukewarm at best. I have half a mind to head back there later when I have to go back to that side of the bridge and making a tremendous stink about it, but I will take my complaint to the public forum first. I would never be so bold to say "Don't eat at (fruit logo themed restaurant)!", but I will warn you what to expect if you do. Expect lousy service. Expect to overhear a bartender there telling a female customer to "show her boobies" in order to obtain something (I kid you not - this was overheard during our long wait). Expect to not have anything taken off of the bill as a show of good faith for the poor service in the sheer glimmer of hope that you may go back there. Expect the waitress to watch you fill out the tip portion of the bill (which I think bothered me more than anything).
Was I wrong to not tip her? I look at it this way - she may not be the cook, but if I know my tip depends on good service, and someone else isn't holding their end of the deal up, bet your bottom dollar I'd have been in that kitchen saying "I need my order for table # whatever." So in effect, it wasn't me who stiffed her - it was herself and the kitchen that stiffed her. If the manager has a problem, let him reach into his pocket and compensate her. I'm sure he wouldn't pay for poor performance as the manager - why should I as the consumer?
Comments are welcome as always. I look forward to hearing from everyone.
I met Janel today for lunch at 12:00. We went to a local establishment with a piece of fruit as their logo (I don't want to mention any names, but it rhymes with Applecee's). We placed our order at the same time as our drinks, consisting of one appetizer, one salad, and a chicken dish. Pretty basic stuff. Our waitress, who I'm sure goes to Marist College across the street from this unnamed restaurant, seemed completely out of sorts when we ordered our drinks and food TOGETHER - because apparently, nobody in the history of restaurant dining has ever done that before. So she took the order and left.
Janel and I are engaging in conversation. She has an hour for lunch, and a meeting at 1:00 that she can't be late for. Our order is taken at 12:10 - that gives plenty of time for a small order to get in and out, and still be out of there on time. I know it does - we've done it many times in the past. During our conversation, it occurs to me that the appetizer is taking longer than usual. I look down at the time and it's 12:30. A little later it's now 12:40 - still just one root beer and a glass of water have made it to the table in what now has become 30 minutes. This includes the waitress - she never came back to check on us. The appetizer arrived at 12:42
You know how when you're in public, and you can see people getting aggravated without them causing too much of a scene? That was us. At 12:45, the manager on duty walks by and asks us how everything is. We calmly state that because my wife is there on lunch, because, you know, it's LUNCH TIME, that we need our order to go now because it has taken so long. Right after he leaves, our waitress, the Marist Mensa Member, comes over and tells us she informed the kitchen and it should be just a few more minutes. It's now 12:49.
We get our check BEFORE THE FOOD ARRIVES. Queen Intelligencia doesn't have a pen in her apron, so she has to run and get another one. I fill out the check, knowing that she's sticking around waiting for me to fill in the tip amount, which I did - to 0.00. We took our copy, took our order, which finally arrived at the table at 12:54 and left. Thankfully, Janel works right up the road, and she got back in time. I pulled out of her workplace at 12:59.
So I make it home within 10 minutes of receiving our food - and my lunch is lukewarm at best. I have half a mind to head back there later when I have to go back to that side of the bridge and making a tremendous stink about it, but I will take my complaint to the public forum first. I would never be so bold to say "Don't eat at (fruit logo themed restaurant)!", but I will warn you what to expect if you do. Expect lousy service. Expect to overhear a bartender there telling a female customer to "show her boobies" in order to obtain something (I kid you not - this was overheard during our long wait). Expect to not have anything taken off of the bill as a show of good faith for the poor service in the sheer glimmer of hope that you may go back there. Expect the waitress to watch you fill out the tip portion of the bill (which I think bothered me more than anything).
Was I wrong to not tip her? I look at it this way - she may not be the cook, but if I know my tip depends on good service, and someone else isn't holding their end of the deal up, bet your bottom dollar I'd have been in that kitchen saying "I need my order for table # whatever." So in effect, it wasn't me who stiffed her - it was herself and the kitchen that stiffed her. If the manager has a problem, let him reach into his pocket and compensate her. I'm sure he wouldn't pay for poor performance as the manager - why should I as the consumer?
Comments are welcome as always. I look forward to hearing from everyone.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
7 Year Itch? Not a bit....
May 4. Seven years ago today, the date was 05/04/03, and I took the plunge and pledged myself to one person for the rest of my existence. My beautiful wife Janel and I are celebrating our anniversary today, and as we have gotten older, we have learned to just appreciate each other's company without needing to "impress" each other. We took a nice leisurely stroll along the Walkway over the Hudson today (a little bit sunburned, but that's OK), had a nice lunch together, and basically just spent the day sharing each other, reminding ourselves just why we've been able to last 7 years, which is really saying something in this day and age.
We just sat and watched our wedding video - which I recommend to anyone who has their video to do on their anniversary. We watch it every year on May 4. We also buy a bottle of champagne every year and toast each other, using our goblets from 05/04/03.
I am not an easy person to live with sometimes. I'm stubborn, moody, and can be a general pain in the ass. I'm also lucky. Janel lets me be me, including the times where I'm singing karaoke, or on stage telling jokes. I couldn't ask for a better partner, friend, soulmate, mother to my daughter, and overall person.
There's an old myth called "The 7 Year Itch" which basically says that after 7 years, you get the itch to try something new. After 7 years, the only itch I have (other than the sunburn) is the itch to have another 70 years with my wife. I love you Janel. Thank you for the last 7 years, and let's keep making it work 7 years at a time!
We just sat and watched our wedding video - which I recommend to anyone who has their video to do on their anniversary. We watch it every year on May 4. We also buy a bottle of champagne every year and toast each other, using our goblets from 05/04/03.
I am not an easy person to live with sometimes. I'm stubborn, moody, and can be a general pain in the ass. I'm also lucky. Janel lets me be me, including the times where I'm singing karaoke, or on stage telling jokes. I couldn't ask for a better partner, friend, soulmate, mother to my daughter, and overall person.
There's an old myth called "The 7 Year Itch" which basically says that after 7 years, you get the itch to try something new. After 7 years, the only itch I have (other than the sunburn) is the itch to have another 70 years with my wife. I love you Janel. Thank you for the last 7 years, and let's keep making it work 7 years at a time!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Things that just....disappeared.
So here it is 9:30 AM, and I'm finally getting around to eating breakfast. I grab a bowl, pour in some Cocoa Pebbles (maybe my favorite cereal of all time), and it got me to thinking about some of my other favorite cereals. Ask my wife, and if you know her, ask my mother - I could eat cereal 3 meals a day and not be bothered by it. However, some of my favorites are either completely gone, or so hard to find now, or have changed so much, they're not even close to what they used to be.
I find it very difficult to find the Monsters cereals. You all remember the Monsters cereals...FrankenBerry, Count Chocula, and the best of all, and the hardest to find...Boo Berry. FrankenBerry was that wonderfully fake strawberry cereal, Count Chocula was of course...chocolate, and Boo Berry was blueberry. Each had standard cereal nuggets, probably some corn thing, flavored specifically, and they all had matching flavored marshmallows in them. I have to fully admit - I hated Count Chocula. If I wanted chocolate cereal, I would go for the already mentioned Cocoa Pebbles, or Cocoa Puffs. I did like FrankenBerry, which is strange. I love strawberry flavored things - but I hate the taste of actual strawberries. Boo Berry was the best though. They all were great at making your milk into some kind of fruity flavored glucose mess that you couldn't wait to chug down (my wife just threw up in her mouth right there - USED MILK!!).
I was a big of fan of the sweetened cereals as a kid - weren't we all? Cap'n Crunch - other than completely tearing up the roof of your mouth, Cap'n Crunch was delicious. Then they made Crunch Berries - are you kidding me? LOVED Crunch Berries! Of course, back then, the berries were all red, but they were the size of beach balls. Have you seen them now? Different colors, and the size of BBs. Looks like someone took Trix (never a fan of Trix) and mixed it with Cap'n Crunch.
There was another cereal I loved that just disappeared - it was kind of like a Cap'n Crunch, but shaped like little saucers - Quisp. Quisp had a little alien on the box, and I would kill a box of Quisp in 3 days. There was just something about it. Apparently, Quisp still exists, but you have to order it directly from the company - they don't mass produce it like they used to.
For those of you with kids, there is one other thing that kids go bat-%#$@ crazy for and that is soda. Believe me, I drank WAY too much soda as a kid, so I know. I was a big Root Beer drinker growing up, and my favorite was Ramblin'. I have no idea what happened to Ramblin' Root Beer - I have a feeling it disappeared right around the time Barq's came around. Of course, there was also A&W (who make a great Cream soda too) and Hires. I think my love of soda stemmed from my parents getting cans of C&C for long car trips to see my grandparents. We'd get orange, grape, root beer, ginger ale, black cherry - all the standard flavors (remember the old cans with the sharp as hell pull tabs that would cut your finger? I knew people who threw the tabs INTO THE CANS before they drank the soda!!).
I also remember some of the weird soda I had that just didn't make it. I had more than a few bottles of Crystal Pepsi, although I don't know why - not really sure what that taste was. I had Pepsi Blue back in 2002. Nasty. Way back when, there was a soda called Slice that tried to cut into the 7-up and Sprite drinkers, and it was good - they claimed it was flavored with real juice. Whatever - I like Slice. Then they made Mandarin Orange Slice, which was really sweet, then Cherry Cola Slice, and I remember an Apple Slice that lasted maybe 6 months. Of course, none of the fruit flavors could hold a candle to Crush - Orange Crush and to a lesser extent, Grape Crush. I never had Nehi - I always remember Radar on M*A*S*H drinking Grape Nehi, but I don't remember ever having that.
I like Sierra Mist now - every once in a while I get into these Lemon-Lime kicks. Sprite is OK, but too bubbly for me. That's why I liked Slice back in the day. I was a big 7-up fan though - so much that I remember trying 7-up Gold, which was a spice flavored soda. I liked it - I think maybe 4 other people did too, and that was it. 7-Up gold went the way of the dodo - extinct.
I miss these things. Do you remember trying some of these, or anything else we had that went away and you miss? Share your memories with me and the loyal followers! Comment on Facebook or here on the blog - seems like most like to comment using FB. I look forward to a steady stream of "I REMEMBER THAT!!!"
I find it very difficult to find the Monsters cereals. You all remember the Monsters cereals...FrankenBerry, Count Chocula, and the best of all, and the hardest to find...Boo Berry. FrankenBerry was that wonderfully fake strawberry cereal, Count Chocula was of course...chocolate, and Boo Berry was blueberry. Each had standard cereal nuggets, probably some corn thing, flavored specifically, and they all had matching flavored marshmallows in them. I have to fully admit - I hated Count Chocula. If I wanted chocolate cereal, I would go for the already mentioned Cocoa Pebbles, or Cocoa Puffs. I did like FrankenBerry, which is strange. I love strawberry flavored things - but I hate the taste of actual strawberries. Boo Berry was the best though. They all were great at making your milk into some kind of fruity flavored glucose mess that you couldn't wait to chug down (my wife just threw up in her mouth right there - USED MILK!!).
I was a big of fan of the sweetened cereals as a kid - weren't we all? Cap'n Crunch - other than completely tearing up the roof of your mouth, Cap'n Crunch was delicious. Then they made Crunch Berries - are you kidding me? LOVED Crunch Berries! Of course, back then, the berries were all red, but they were the size of beach balls. Have you seen them now? Different colors, and the size of BBs. Looks like someone took Trix (never a fan of Trix) and mixed it with Cap'n Crunch.
There was another cereal I loved that just disappeared - it was kind of like a Cap'n Crunch, but shaped like little saucers - Quisp. Quisp had a little alien on the box, and I would kill a box of Quisp in 3 days. There was just something about it. Apparently, Quisp still exists, but you have to order it directly from the company - they don't mass produce it like they used to.
For those of you with kids, there is one other thing that kids go bat-%#$@ crazy for and that is soda. Believe me, I drank WAY too much soda as a kid, so I know. I was a big Root Beer drinker growing up, and my favorite was Ramblin'. I have no idea what happened to Ramblin' Root Beer - I have a feeling it disappeared right around the time Barq's came around. Of course, there was also A&W (who make a great Cream soda too) and Hires. I think my love of soda stemmed from my parents getting cans of C&C for long car trips to see my grandparents. We'd get orange, grape, root beer, ginger ale, black cherry - all the standard flavors (remember the old cans with the sharp as hell pull tabs that would cut your finger? I knew people who threw the tabs INTO THE CANS before they drank the soda!!).
I also remember some of the weird soda I had that just didn't make it. I had more than a few bottles of Crystal Pepsi, although I don't know why - not really sure what that taste was. I had Pepsi Blue back in 2002. Nasty. Way back when, there was a soda called Slice that tried to cut into the 7-up and Sprite drinkers, and it was good - they claimed it was flavored with real juice. Whatever - I like Slice. Then they made Mandarin Orange Slice, which was really sweet, then Cherry Cola Slice, and I remember an Apple Slice that lasted maybe 6 months. Of course, none of the fruit flavors could hold a candle to Crush - Orange Crush and to a lesser extent, Grape Crush. I never had Nehi - I always remember Radar on M*A*S*H drinking Grape Nehi, but I don't remember ever having that.
I like Sierra Mist now - every once in a while I get into these Lemon-Lime kicks. Sprite is OK, but too bubbly for me. That's why I liked Slice back in the day. I was a big 7-up fan though - so much that I remember trying 7-up Gold, which was a spice flavored soda. I liked it - I think maybe 4 other people did too, and that was it. 7-Up gold went the way of the dodo - extinct.
I miss these things. Do you remember trying some of these, or anything else we had that went away and you miss? Share your memories with me and the loyal followers! Comment on Facebook or here on the blog - seems like most like to comment using FB. I look forward to a steady stream of "I REMEMBER THAT!!!"
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Commercial Stupidity.
I think I watch too much TV. The reason I have come to this conclusion is because I have determined that there are certain stores I won't go to, and certain products that I won't buy, just because the commercials for these things and places are just so completely stupid. Not just stupid....insulting.
Not that I could ever afford it anyway, but I will never shop at Ikea based off of a commercial I saw where a husband and wife are congratulating their kitchen appliances on a dinner. Talking to the stove like some kind of athlete - bad enough. The stupid husband giving the refrigerator a poorly executed chest bump that looked more like an awkward gay bar encounter - the final straw.
There are other commercials that strike nerves with me - mostly because they portray teenagers as.... well, current teenagers. Obnoxious and disrespectful. There is a mobile phone commercial where the teenage son with the fruit loop haircut and the "I'm too cool to sit in the back of the car" attitude tells his mother that he "threw away his rollover minutes because they were old." The whole deal of throwing away old minutes like they were old Life Savers stuck to the back seat is bad enough, but to have the kid be as much of a pompous ass as he was made me want to reach in and choke the little SOB.
Gamefly - the video game version of Netflix - shows college age kids screaming and getting violent because they bought a video game that they didn't like. Here's an idea - stop playing video games.
So, my friends, I ask - do I watch too much TV? Mostly, I ask...are there any commercials that affect you this way? Comments welcomed and encouraged!
Not that I could ever afford it anyway, but I will never shop at Ikea based off of a commercial I saw where a husband and wife are congratulating their kitchen appliances on a dinner. Talking to the stove like some kind of athlete - bad enough. The stupid husband giving the refrigerator a poorly executed chest bump that looked more like an awkward gay bar encounter - the final straw.
There are other commercials that strike nerves with me - mostly because they portray teenagers as.... well, current teenagers. Obnoxious and disrespectful. There is a mobile phone commercial where the teenage son with the fruit loop haircut and the "I'm too cool to sit in the back of the car" attitude tells his mother that he "threw away his rollover minutes because they were old." The whole deal of throwing away old minutes like they were old Life Savers stuck to the back seat is bad enough, but to have the kid be as much of a pompous ass as he was made me want to reach in and choke the little SOB.
Gamefly - the video game version of Netflix - shows college age kids screaming and getting violent because they bought a video game that they didn't like. Here's an idea - stop playing video games.
So, my friends, I ask - do I watch too much TV? Mostly, I ask...are there any commercials that affect you this way? Comments welcomed and encouraged!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
DId I call a phone or a jukebox?
My wife is an IT professional, and because of this, she gets to play with all the cool toys before most people do, and she has a working knowledge of them that I could never have. She had a Blackberry long before I did, and she can make that thing do basically everything except make dinner. I have a Blackberry that I use to keep my calendar straight, get important e-mails sent directly to me, but the one thing I haven't done with it is customize the ring tones.
When my phone rings, it plays a basic "ringing" sound. When I get an Instant Blackberry Message, it plays an almost chirping sound. When I get an e-mail to either of my two e-mail accounts I have programmed into it, I get what sounds like a short "doorbell" sound.
Depending on how people contact my wife, her phone plays so many different songs it sounds like it could be a jukebox. She gets a message (don't ask me what kind - I can't even REMOTELY keep track), and I hear Pink singing from "Glitter in the Air" - 'THERE YOU ARE...SITTING IN THE GARDEN...CLUTCHING MY COFFEE.....YOU CALL ME SUGARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR....." Another type of message, and Adele is singing Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love", she has the alarm set to go off to wake us up, and there's LL Cool J telling me "I Need Love". She used to have it so when she received an E-mail, it would be Bugs Bunny saying "What's this? A letter...for MEEEE". If I actually call her (because of all things to do with her phone, actually talking on it is her least favorite thing to do), she has some song on it that says "If you got worries, then you're like me, don't worry know....I won't hurt you"
Mine goes "ding", "tweet", "chirp".
I guess your ringtones say a lot about what type of person you are. I believe mine say that I have no technological skill whatsoever and that I am as boring as watching paint dry.
I was hosting a comedy show the other night when I heard someone in the crowd receive a call - and the only reason I knew this (by the way, if you're at a performance or a movie, put the damn phone on VIBRATE please!) is because his phone, I kid you not, started playing "GIVE ME BACK THAT FILET-O-FISH! GIVE ME THAT FISH!"
So I pose this question to you all - what kind of ringtone do you have - do you have multiples for different people? What does it say about you? Comments as always are welcome on the blog here, or on Facebook. I am anxious to see what ringtones people have. Maybe, if I can figure out how, I'll switch. Oops...gotta go - I have an e-mail....either that, or there's someone at my front door!
When my phone rings, it plays a basic "ringing" sound. When I get an Instant Blackberry Message, it plays an almost chirping sound. When I get an e-mail to either of my two e-mail accounts I have programmed into it, I get what sounds like a short "doorbell" sound.
Depending on how people contact my wife, her phone plays so many different songs it sounds like it could be a jukebox. She gets a message (don't ask me what kind - I can't even REMOTELY keep track), and I hear Pink singing from "Glitter in the Air" - 'THERE YOU ARE...SITTING IN THE GARDEN...CLUTCHING MY COFFEE.....YOU CALL ME SUGARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR....." Another type of message, and Adele is singing Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love", she has the alarm set to go off to wake us up, and there's LL Cool J telling me "I Need Love". She used to have it so when she received an E-mail, it would be Bugs Bunny saying "What's this? A letter...for MEEEE". If I actually call her (because of all things to do with her phone, actually talking on it is her least favorite thing to do), she has some song on it that says "If you got worries, then you're like me, don't worry know....I won't hurt you"
Mine goes "ding", "tweet", "chirp".
I guess your ringtones say a lot about what type of person you are. I believe mine say that I have no technological skill whatsoever and that I am as boring as watching paint dry.
I was hosting a comedy show the other night when I heard someone in the crowd receive a call - and the only reason I knew this (by the way, if you're at a performance or a movie, put the damn phone on VIBRATE please!) is because his phone, I kid you not, started playing "GIVE ME BACK THAT FILET-O-FISH! GIVE ME THAT FISH!"
So I pose this question to you all - what kind of ringtone do you have - do you have multiples for different people? What does it say about you? Comments as always are welcome on the blog here, or on Facebook. I am anxious to see what ringtones people have. Maybe, if I can figure out how, I'll switch. Oops...gotta go - I have an e-mail....either that, or there's someone at my front door!
Monday, March 29, 2010
How sick is "Too sick to work"?
I woke up this morning after a very busy weekend where I knew that something was catching up to me. My throat has been a little scratchy for about three days, and I've been coughing a little more than usual for the last two days. The lousy thing about that is you think you can rest up on the weekend, but like most of us, I made commitments to do things this weekend that once they got here, I couldn't beg out of just because I felt "yucky." I had hockey games to referee last night, I had an adult hockey clinic that I was the substitute coach for, and I had a comedy show that I emceed Saturday night. I couldn't bring myself to cancel on any of those things, because there are more people than just me affected by every single one.
So I wake up this morning, I can't breathe out of my right nostril, my throat feels like a cat's tongue, and I am on my second cup of coffee to keep warm. Immediately, I thought, "If I don't feel better soon, I'm not going to work." It was at that point that I thought for a few minutes, then wanted to kick my own ass.
I skated four different times this weekend although I wasn't feeling 100%, I got up on stage and emceed a 2 hour comedy show, including a total of about 10 minutes of my own material, even though I didn't feel well. Now I think to myself, "I should stay home because I don't feel well." Shame on me.
It is 9:22 as I write this - I have to leave by 12:15 to be at work by 1:00. For a little bit, I already checked out on work, thinking "I have things I can do around the house. I have laundry I can catch up on." Let's just remember that until February 9 of this year, and since October of 2008, I DIDN'T HAVE A JOB. Granted, a year of that was spent in school so that I could get a job, but now I have one - a decent one (in this economy, ANY job is a decent job) and here I am already deciding to not go because I "don't feel well".
So I had a moment of clarity. I took 2 Advil because I have a slight toothache too, and 2 Day-Quil to clear up my nose. I'll bring some cough drops for my cough and scratchy throat, and I will go to work, because why should I put more emphasis on those weekend things that I had to make sure I did?
Ask my wife - I don't get sick often, and when I get sick, I get REALLY sick. This isn't sick - this is "feels crappy". I hate calling into work - especially since I'll be the only Med. Tech from 4:00 - 9:00 tonight. The Doctor needs me, the patients need me to be there.
I'm not saying that I wouldn't stay home if I was legitimately sick - heck I had a flu bug so bad once that I was sent home from work, and ended up out for 5 days, and my boss knew I was so sick, she didn't even ask for a Doctor's note. If I feel like I'm endangering myself or others, I won't go. Today, I just "feel yucky". For some people, that's more than enough reason.
If Emily, Wyatt or Cole is sick enough to not go to school, I have used my sick time to take care of them. Not the case today - so it is now time for me to wrap this up, suck it up, and get ready to go to work.
Do you or anyone you know call in to work at the drop of a hat? If so, I won't judge you - to each their own, and some people have a different tolerance for getting through than others do, but I will check out the comments either on the blog or on the Facebook link - but I'll do it during a break from work, or after I get home. I have to go shower and get ready now.
So I wake up this morning, I can't breathe out of my right nostril, my throat feels like a cat's tongue, and I am on my second cup of coffee to keep warm. Immediately, I thought, "If I don't feel better soon, I'm not going to work." It was at that point that I thought for a few minutes, then wanted to kick my own ass.
I skated four different times this weekend although I wasn't feeling 100%, I got up on stage and emceed a 2 hour comedy show, including a total of about 10 minutes of my own material, even though I didn't feel well. Now I think to myself, "I should stay home because I don't feel well." Shame on me.
It is 9:22 as I write this - I have to leave by 12:15 to be at work by 1:00. For a little bit, I already checked out on work, thinking "I have things I can do around the house. I have laundry I can catch up on." Let's just remember that until February 9 of this year, and since October of 2008, I DIDN'T HAVE A JOB. Granted, a year of that was spent in school so that I could get a job, but now I have one - a decent one (in this economy, ANY job is a decent job) and here I am already deciding to not go because I "don't feel well".
So I had a moment of clarity. I took 2 Advil because I have a slight toothache too, and 2 Day-Quil to clear up my nose. I'll bring some cough drops for my cough and scratchy throat, and I will go to work, because why should I put more emphasis on those weekend things that I had to make sure I did?
Ask my wife - I don't get sick often, and when I get sick, I get REALLY sick. This isn't sick - this is "feels crappy". I hate calling into work - especially since I'll be the only Med. Tech from 4:00 - 9:00 tonight. The Doctor needs me, the patients need me to be there.
I'm not saying that I wouldn't stay home if I was legitimately sick - heck I had a flu bug so bad once that I was sent home from work, and ended up out for 5 days, and my boss knew I was so sick, she didn't even ask for a Doctor's note. If I feel like I'm endangering myself or others, I won't go. Today, I just "feel yucky". For some people, that's more than enough reason.
If Emily, Wyatt or Cole is sick enough to not go to school, I have used my sick time to take care of them. Not the case today - so it is now time for me to wrap this up, suck it up, and get ready to go to work.
Do you or anyone you know call in to work at the drop of a hat? If so, I won't judge you - to each their own, and some people have a different tolerance for getting through than others do, but I will check out the comments either on the blog or on the Facebook link - but I'll do it during a break from work, or after I get home. I have to go shower and get ready now.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
"Friends", Acquaintances....and the Social Networking Drama
"I often wonder why people become "friends" on Facebook. Were we friends then, are we still now, and do we really like each other? Do we keep each other on the "list" to be nice and not hurt anyone's feelings? I gotta tell ya......I really wonder. How about you?" - posted by J S-B on Facebook 3/23/10. (I have used initials to conceal her identity).
I must admit, I have kind of looked at my "friend" list on Facebook with a quizzical expression on my face. At last count, I had 559 "friends", and I'm wondering how the heck it got so high. Many of them are family members, and legitimate friends that I have had over the years, still more of them are classmates from school who I knew, some more than others. Yet more are friends and acquaintances of my family members, like my younger sister's classmates, again some I know better than others. Still more are members of the Hockey Official's Association that I belong to, so I can see how the number can add up. However, I will fully admit that there are people on that list I may have met or talked to only once or twice in my life, and somehow, they requested me to be their friend. As J S-B stated above, is it a feeling of guilt and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings that makes us keep so many people on our friends list? If some of these people on there deleted me, I honestly would probably not know the difference. That's a fact. It doesn't make me sad or anything, it just underscores the fact that I don't know what being a "friend" means anymore. Like I told J S-B, I have over 500 friends on Facebook, but I don't even know my neighbor's last name, and it isn't even on her mailbox, so I can't cheat.
This is the new electronic Social Networking society that we live in. For most of us , I'm sure it all started with MySpace. I had a MySpace page, but then that seemed to get overrun by 14 year olds, so I never go on there anymore. I really should delete that thing, but it's been so long, I honestly don't know if I remember the password I used for it. Facebook always seemed like the more "mature" network, but even that has gotten a little overrun with kids. Sad thing is, these kids like to swear just for the sake of swearing. I've never been a fan of that - and I have actually gotten into it with people in the mall who swear out loud. I am partially guilty of the kid thing, I hate to admit. Wyatt's former school friend made a page for him - created an e-mail address and everything unbeknownst to his mother and myself. We found it by accident. So we decided to make his page for him, controlling the password and everything. His page is suspended now because he keeps screwing up in school, and I'm seriously thinking of not reactivating it. My nieces have pages, and one of them has on more than one occasion used swear words on it, which she would never do in front of an adult in person.
After I'm done here, I will be thinning out my friends list. If I delete you, it's only because I'm lying to both of us why you should have been there in the first place. If we don't talk, we don't talk. It's not a personal thing. I'm not in a contest to see how many friends I can get. How many will I take off? Who knows? It has gotten out of hand though.
I thank J S-B for bringing this question to my head - and I will be keeping her as a friend - besides, we both have Keurig coffee makers, and that's a bond you just can't break!
Opinions welcome here or on the aforementioned Facebook - if I keep you...BWAH HAH HAH HAH! Seriously, leave me a comment and let me know what you think. Thanks, J S-B.
I must admit, I have kind of looked at my "friend" list on Facebook with a quizzical expression on my face. At last count, I had 559 "friends", and I'm wondering how the heck it got so high. Many of them are family members, and legitimate friends that I have had over the years, still more of them are classmates from school who I knew, some more than others. Yet more are friends and acquaintances of my family members, like my younger sister's classmates, again some I know better than others. Still more are members of the Hockey Official's Association that I belong to, so I can see how the number can add up. However, I will fully admit that there are people on that list I may have met or talked to only once or twice in my life, and somehow, they requested me to be their friend. As J S-B stated above, is it a feeling of guilt and not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings that makes us keep so many people on our friends list? If some of these people on there deleted me, I honestly would probably not know the difference. That's a fact. It doesn't make me sad or anything, it just underscores the fact that I don't know what being a "friend" means anymore. Like I told J S-B, I have over 500 friends on Facebook, but I don't even know my neighbor's last name, and it isn't even on her mailbox, so I can't cheat.
This is the new electronic Social Networking society that we live in. For most of us , I'm sure it all started with MySpace. I had a MySpace page, but then that seemed to get overrun by 14 year olds, so I never go on there anymore. I really should delete that thing, but it's been so long, I honestly don't know if I remember the password I used for it. Facebook always seemed like the more "mature" network, but even that has gotten a little overrun with kids. Sad thing is, these kids like to swear just for the sake of swearing. I've never been a fan of that - and I have actually gotten into it with people in the mall who swear out loud. I am partially guilty of the kid thing, I hate to admit. Wyatt's former school friend made a page for him - created an e-mail address and everything unbeknownst to his mother and myself. We found it by accident. So we decided to make his page for him, controlling the password and everything. His page is suspended now because he keeps screwing up in school, and I'm seriously thinking of not reactivating it. My nieces have pages, and one of them has on more than one occasion used swear words on it, which she would never do in front of an adult in person.
After I'm done here, I will be thinning out my friends list. If I delete you, it's only because I'm lying to both of us why you should have been there in the first place. If we don't talk, we don't talk. It's not a personal thing. I'm not in a contest to see how many friends I can get. How many will I take off? Who knows? It has gotten out of hand though.
I thank J S-B for bringing this question to my head - and I will be keeping her as a friend - besides, we both have Keurig coffee makers, and that's a bond you just can't break!
Opinions welcome here or on the aforementioned Facebook - if I keep you...BWAH HAH HAH HAH! Seriously, leave me a comment and let me know what you think. Thanks, J S-B.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Inspect THIS!
As I sit here on my one day off in the middle of the week, I go through the list of errands I have to run, and one of them was "See if you can get the car in to get in inspected." My inspection is overdue...and as such, naturally, I got stopped for it the other day. It was at an inspection checkpoint in the town of Marlboro, where the police there really have nothing better to do than set up a stop on the one main road that goes through the town, during the aftenoon drive home time, and look for reasons to write stupid little ticky tack tickets, such as talking on the cell phone while driving, or expired inspection.
I knew my inspection was expired, so when I got to the checkpoint, I didn't even wait for the signal - I was pulling over as he noticed it. I even heard the guy laugh to his uniformed buddy "Look - he already knew!" Ha ha - yes I knew. I also knew that this ticket is the biggest crock of all the tickets you can write.
Right now, I am driving a little "get me back and forth to work" car - a 2001 Pontiac Sunfire. The "Check Engine" light came on a while ago, and I know it's a silly little sensor that needs to be replaced, but until I started working again, there was no way I could pay the ridiculous amounts charged by auto repair people for such a thing. An $80 part takes $200 of labor to install in 10 minutes? If you're going to screw me, at least buy me a drink first. My anger is not directed to the auto repair people, and not really at the police, because they all have their living to make, and if that's what they have to do, then that's what they have to do. My anger is with good old New York State - the one with the blind governor.
Other than the check engine light, I'm sure my little Pontiac would pass your very thorough "New York State Inspection". Hell, if I know the right person, he can turn the light off, reset it, pass the inspection and if the light comes on 10 miles down the road, no biggie - it already passed inspection! The point is this...right now, all across the country, people are driving new 2010 Toyota Priuses which are supposed to be fresh off the assembly line. These cars have an issue with the accelerator that makes it stick, leading to uncontrollable vehicles, but the accelerator is not checked during an inspection. So these 90 mph torpedoes would PASS THE NYS INSPECTION, but because I have a little oxygen sensor that means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, my car won't pass, so I have to pay. I know I can carry around a form that basically says "My car was inspected, but because I already know it's a piece of crap, it failed" that gives me 30 days to get it fixed so it will pass. I look at some of the cars I see that have mufflers hanging down, all sorts of damage, windows taped up, and somehow those pass - again, it's all in who you know.
So the bottom line is this - New York State, when you get done looking at my little red car, you can inspect the whitest part of my ass to find a spot to kiss. You only make us do this to get money every year. There is no way every car with a valid inspection sticker would truly pass - there are many shops who turn off the light, and "sell" you a sticker, if you slip them a few bucks under the table. If we don't pay you for this inspection, then we get a ticket - where we have to pay you a "Mandatory NYS Surcharge", which on a $25 ticket is usually $55 dollars, which if my math is correct is a 220% markup! I'm starting to think Tony Soprano is our governor.
Anyone else feel this is outrageous? Sound off and let your voice be heard - and say what you want - NO FILTER REQUIRED!
Comments welcome as always on here, or on Facebook.
I knew my inspection was expired, so when I got to the checkpoint, I didn't even wait for the signal - I was pulling over as he noticed it. I even heard the guy laugh to his uniformed buddy "Look - he already knew!" Ha ha - yes I knew. I also knew that this ticket is the biggest crock of all the tickets you can write.
Right now, I am driving a little "get me back and forth to work" car - a 2001 Pontiac Sunfire. The "Check Engine" light came on a while ago, and I know it's a silly little sensor that needs to be replaced, but until I started working again, there was no way I could pay the ridiculous amounts charged by auto repair people for such a thing. An $80 part takes $200 of labor to install in 10 minutes? If you're going to screw me, at least buy me a drink first. My anger is not directed to the auto repair people, and not really at the police, because they all have their living to make, and if that's what they have to do, then that's what they have to do. My anger is with good old New York State - the one with the blind governor.
Other than the check engine light, I'm sure my little Pontiac would pass your very thorough "New York State Inspection". Hell, if I know the right person, he can turn the light off, reset it, pass the inspection and if the light comes on 10 miles down the road, no biggie - it already passed inspection! The point is this...right now, all across the country, people are driving new 2010 Toyota Priuses which are supposed to be fresh off the assembly line. These cars have an issue with the accelerator that makes it stick, leading to uncontrollable vehicles, but the accelerator is not checked during an inspection. So these 90 mph torpedoes would PASS THE NYS INSPECTION, but because I have a little oxygen sensor that means absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, my car won't pass, so I have to pay. I know I can carry around a form that basically says "My car was inspected, but because I already know it's a piece of crap, it failed" that gives me 30 days to get it fixed so it will pass. I look at some of the cars I see that have mufflers hanging down, all sorts of damage, windows taped up, and somehow those pass - again, it's all in who you know.
So the bottom line is this - New York State, when you get done looking at my little red car, you can inspect the whitest part of my ass to find a spot to kiss. You only make us do this to get money every year. There is no way every car with a valid inspection sticker would truly pass - there are many shops who turn off the light, and "sell" you a sticker, if you slip them a few bucks under the table. If we don't pay you for this inspection, then we get a ticket - where we have to pay you a "Mandatory NYS Surcharge", which on a $25 ticket is usually $55 dollars, which if my math is correct is a 220% markup! I'm starting to think Tony Soprano is our governor.
Anyone else feel this is outrageous? Sound off and let your voice be heard - and say what you want - NO FILTER REQUIRED!
Comments welcome as always on here, or on Facebook.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Sports Parents - the Apex and the Zenith
I have always been a sports fan - from when I was a child all the way until now. My wife NEVER has to worry about me running around behind her back, because I'd rather sit at home and watch some kind of sporting event on TV, or even better, see one in person. It doesn't matter to me what level it is either - I'm just that much of a junkie for this stuff.
I was blessed as a kid to have two people who helped me develop my love for sports. My brother Jim was very good at everything he played. Baseball - an excellent shortstop with a cannon for an arm. Hockey - a good skating defenseman who, even though he wasn't the biggest guy, knew technique and leverage, and could knock you out of your skates with a clean check. On top of that, we'd play goofy little basketball games in the driveway and things like that. My goal was always to perform at his level. I enjoyed watching him play.
The second person - even more importantly - was my father, who also was named Jim. Dad was the guy who trucked us around to most practices and games for baseball and hockey. When I say trucked, I mean literally - he had a big Chevy Suburban that I think at one point we fit the entire high school hockey team in at one time. Maybe not, but it sure seemed that way. Dad was my baseball coach for Little League and Senior League. Always offered advice, never yelled (except one time - he yelled at the other team's manager because the guy had a young kid umpire so confused, he was telling him the wrong rules. My Dad was drinking a can of lemonade, and after the third time this other manager told the umpire to call something wrong, he slammed that can down, completely destroying it, and yelled at the guy "HE'S THE UMPIRE - HE CALLS THE GAME - NOT YOU!" They kept the smashed can, and turned it into a trophy for him at the end of the year picnic - it was absolutely hysterical.)
Dad was the picture perfect sports parent to me. He was supportive to EVERYONE, not just his own kids. He gave EVERYONE rides. He volunteered his time as a coach for baseball, and as the timekeeper for hockey. Everyone who knew my Dad respected him and liked him, including all the officials from everything we ever played.
I mention this because in the past few years, as I have become a parent (and step-parent), I have been the guy who volunteers to umpire the baseball games when needed, the guy who took over my daughter's 6 and under soccer team when the coach moved away unexpectedly, although the only thing I know about soccer is that I don't know ANYTHING about soccer. I also am a USA Hockey certified referee. This year, my third year of refereeing, I am where I should be - Level 3. That means I have a firm grasp of the rulebook, and the ability to referee games at all levels, so therefore I see a lot of parents at these games. Parents who have kids of all ages. Parents who also coach. I see parents like my friend Melissa Lawlor, who has hockey players in three different age groups I think, who probably puts close to 472 million miles on her vehicle (give or take a few) every hockey season, who organizes team functions, who wears her son's jersey proudly, who takes photos at the games of EVERYONE, not just her own children. I see all the coaches on my two boys' teams that give up their weekends to help the kids. I respect and admire everyone who does the right thing for our kids and the sports they play.
I also see the absolute worst. I see the parents in the stands who tell me I suck, because their kid got knocked over, and I didn't call anything. I have seen coaches earlier this season point fingers at kids on the other team and say, and this is a direct quote, "You're a f***ing cheap shot artist." I had to break up a confrontation between two head coaches at center ice after a High School Varsity GAME (note the caps - it's just a GAME people). I see parents in the stands imploring their children to dispense "frontier justice" if their kid gets hit. What gets me as a referee, I hear parents yell their interpretation of what they think are the rules to me during games. 99% of the time, these interpretations are wrong, and after games, I have been known to explain how the rulebook reads to people regarding things that they thought should have been called.
I mention this and ask one simple thing. If you are a parent, and your child wants to play a sport, encourage it. Last I knew, PlayStation 3, XBOX 360 and Wii did not have Olympic events. Learn the sport they want to play. Obtain a copy of the rulebook. IF you have the confidence, volunteer to officiate the games. If it's a higher level, try to become a paid official, like I am now. If you don't have the confidence to actually officiate, at least educate yourselves on the games. Trust me, I have seen many players shake their heads as their parents are shouting things that are completely wrong.
If you decide to be a coach, be a leader as well. Don't make your kid the captain of the team. Don't scream at the officials - you're job as a coach is to teach the players not only the rules and skills, but also the conduct. When I see a game where all the kids are mouthy to me, it's usually because the coach is mouthy to me too.
If you decide to remain in the stands and be a fan, then be a good fan. Just because "fan" is literally short for "fanatic" doesn't mean you have to be a lunatic. Cheer your team on. Acknowledge outstanding play from BOTH teams. Don't curse at the officials or the coach if your kid isn't getting the playing time you feel he deserves. There are ways to discuss that sort of thing, and it's not by yelling "PUT JOHNNY BACK IN THE GAME YOU $%^#&%#"
I love being a hockey referee. I'm still involved in the greatest sport on earth, I get the best view of outstanding plays, I meet some wonderful people who happen to be players, I meet some excellent coaches, and some wonderful parents. Please, be one of those people I look forward to seeing at the rink - not the one who yells the one time my wife and daughter come to watch me "YOU REALLY SUCK REF." We don't get every call right - but if we weren't there, the game couldn't happen.
Comments as always are welcome here or on the Facebook link.
I was blessed as a kid to have two people who helped me develop my love for sports. My brother Jim was very good at everything he played. Baseball - an excellent shortstop with a cannon for an arm. Hockey - a good skating defenseman who, even though he wasn't the biggest guy, knew technique and leverage, and could knock you out of your skates with a clean check. On top of that, we'd play goofy little basketball games in the driveway and things like that. My goal was always to perform at his level. I enjoyed watching him play.
The second person - even more importantly - was my father, who also was named Jim. Dad was the guy who trucked us around to most practices and games for baseball and hockey. When I say trucked, I mean literally - he had a big Chevy Suburban that I think at one point we fit the entire high school hockey team in at one time. Maybe not, but it sure seemed that way. Dad was my baseball coach for Little League and Senior League. Always offered advice, never yelled (except one time - he yelled at the other team's manager because the guy had a young kid umpire so confused, he was telling him the wrong rules. My Dad was drinking a can of lemonade, and after the third time this other manager told the umpire to call something wrong, he slammed that can down, completely destroying it, and yelled at the guy "HE'S THE UMPIRE - HE CALLS THE GAME - NOT YOU!" They kept the smashed can, and turned it into a trophy for him at the end of the year picnic - it was absolutely hysterical.)
Dad was the picture perfect sports parent to me. He was supportive to EVERYONE, not just his own kids. He gave EVERYONE rides. He volunteered his time as a coach for baseball, and as the timekeeper for hockey. Everyone who knew my Dad respected him and liked him, including all the officials from everything we ever played.
I mention this because in the past few years, as I have become a parent (and step-parent), I have been the guy who volunteers to umpire the baseball games when needed, the guy who took over my daughter's 6 and under soccer team when the coach moved away unexpectedly, although the only thing I know about soccer is that I don't know ANYTHING about soccer. I also am a USA Hockey certified referee. This year, my third year of refereeing, I am where I should be - Level 3. That means I have a firm grasp of the rulebook, and the ability to referee games at all levels, so therefore I see a lot of parents at these games. Parents who have kids of all ages. Parents who also coach. I see parents like my friend Melissa Lawlor, who has hockey players in three different age groups I think, who probably puts close to 472 million miles on her vehicle (give or take a few) every hockey season, who organizes team functions, who wears her son's jersey proudly, who takes photos at the games of EVERYONE, not just her own children. I see all the coaches on my two boys' teams that give up their weekends to help the kids. I respect and admire everyone who does the right thing for our kids and the sports they play.
I also see the absolute worst. I see the parents in the stands who tell me I suck, because their kid got knocked over, and I didn't call anything. I have seen coaches earlier this season point fingers at kids on the other team and say, and this is a direct quote, "You're a f***ing cheap shot artist." I had to break up a confrontation between two head coaches at center ice after a High School Varsity GAME (note the caps - it's just a GAME people). I see parents in the stands imploring their children to dispense "frontier justice" if their kid gets hit. What gets me as a referee, I hear parents yell their interpretation of what they think are the rules to me during games. 99% of the time, these interpretations are wrong, and after games, I have been known to explain how the rulebook reads to people regarding things that they thought should have been called.
I mention this and ask one simple thing. If you are a parent, and your child wants to play a sport, encourage it. Last I knew, PlayStation 3, XBOX 360 and Wii did not have Olympic events. Learn the sport they want to play. Obtain a copy of the rulebook. IF you have the confidence, volunteer to officiate the games. If it's a higher level, try to become a paid official, like I am now. If you don't have the confidence to actually officiate, at least educate yourselves on the games. Trust me, I have seen many players shake their heads as their parents are shouting things that are completely wrong.
If you decide to be a coach, be a leader as well. Don't make your kid the captain of the team. Don't scream at the officials - you're job as a coach is to teach the players not only the rules and skills, but also the conduct. When I see a game where all the kids are mouthy to me, it's usually because the coach is mouthy to me too.
If you decide to remain in the stands and be a fan, then be a good fan. Just because "fan" is literally short for "fanatic" doesn't mean you have to be a lunatic. Cheer your team on. Acknowledge outstanding play from BOTH teams. Don't curse at the officials or the coach if your kid isn't getting the playing time you feel he deserves. There are ways to discuss that sort of thing, and it's not by yelling "PUT JOHNNY BACK IN THE GAME YOU $%^#&%#"
I love being a hockey referee. I'm still involved in the greatest sport on earth, I get the best view of outstanding plays, I meet some wonderful people who happen to be players, I meet some excellent coaches, and some wonderful parents. Please, be one of those people I look forward to seeing at the rink - not the one who yells the one time my wife and daughter come to watch me "YOU REALLY SUCK REF." We don't get every call right - but if we weren't there, the game couldn't happen.
Comments as always are welcome here or on the Facebook link.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
A little pat on the back to me....
Anyone who knows me knows that I do things in public that bring attention to myself - but oddly enough, I am not a big "ME ME ME" guy. I sing karaoke - not to impress drunk people in bars, but because I enjoy singing, and I am decent enough at it that I don't cause people to take cigarette breaks outside, like some of the "singers" at our local establishment do. I host and perform at Comedy shows, because I like to make people laugh, and I do a relatively decent job at it, but I don't do a Gallagher-esque thing where I smash watermelons, and I don't curse every other word. I do it because I have interesting takes on things that some people have never thought of, and most of the time they're pretty funny. Example: Why wasn't Elin Woods charged with a hate crime? She beat a black man with a club in a Southern state. I'm just saying....
I posted the other day on Facebook that I was awarded a scholarship from the New York State Society of Medical Assistants. For those unaware, I went back to school last year at our local Business and Technical Institute to learn a new career after getting out of the financial field , which I did for 20 years. I learned how to be a Medical Assistant, which I am now doing as a paid employee at a really nice doctor's office. As part of my year long study, I was able to apply for some scholarships, and the one I was awarded is only given to one Medical Assistant student in the state of New York each year. It's a $500 award, and although that may not seem like a lot to some people, that is now $500 I don't have to pay back on my student loan! That's huge to me!
The reason I won, I was told, was because of my essay. I have decided to share it with you. My title was "Don't Water Dead Flowers". Read and enjoy.
“Don’t Water Dead Flowers”
In an economy such as we are in at present, it is of utmost importance not to waste financial resources. Any waste of a dollar becomes that much harder to overcome, and even more difficult to justify.
The decision to grant financial assistance to deserving students must also be looked at in this manner. While all students should be commended for furthering their education, those who take their effort seriously and maximize their potential are well worth any investment made in them, monetarily, or otherwise. This is my story.
I am a 39 year old husband and father of two stepsons, ages 12 and 8, and a daughter, age 5. After twenty years in the financial industry, I was given notice that the industry did not have the wherewithal to continue my employment. I certainly am not the first person to be laid off, but my wife and children were in effect laid off as well. My wife was a recent graduate of Ridley-Lowell Business & Technical Institute in the Internet Technology program, and recommended the school to me.
My mother (previously) and my sister (currently) are or were hospital employees, specifically Emergency Room Technicians. Being able to use their experience in combination with my courses at the school allow me to excel in the Medical Assistant program. I am carrying a 4.0 GPA through three semesters, and I started and oversee the current Peer Tutoring program at the school so that others may enhance their learning. In another few weeks as I write this, my journey at school will be over, and I will be a Medical Assistant. It is my intention to take and pass the CMA exam at the earliest convenience, become a Certified Medical Assistant, and quite possibly in time, return to the school to become a teacher in the Medical Assistant program, while being an active member of the AAMA and NYSSMA.
If granted this or any other scholarship such as the Maxine Williams Scholarship that I have also applied for, I will apply it directly to my financial obligations to the school.
Rest assured, by awarding me this scholarship, you will not be watering dead flowers. You will be nurturing the growth of a sapling into a steady tree with branches of knowledge to share someday.
Well, that was it. That's a $500 essay. I thought it was OK when I wrote it, but I really didn't think I would win - and I didn't know that they only awarded one, so excuse me while I pat myself on the back....OK done. I don't do that too much, because I learned a lesson a long time ago - "A pat on the back is 6 inches away from a kick in the ass."
Comments welcome as always - here or on Facebook.
I posted the other day on Facebook that I was awarded a scholarship from the New York State Society of Medical Assistants. For those unaware, I went back to school last year at our local Business and Technical Institute to learn a new career after getting out of the financial field , which I did for 20 years. I learned how to be a Medical Assistant, which I am now doing as a paid employee at a really nice doctor's office. As part of my year long study, I was able to apply for some scholarships, and the one I was awarded is only given to one Medical Assistant student in the state of New York each year. It's a $500 award, and although that may not seem like a lot to some people, that is now $500 I don't have to pay back on my student loan! That's huge to me!
The reason I won, I was told, was because of my essay. I have decided to share it with you. My title was "Don't Water Dead Flowers". Read and enjoy.
“Don’t Water Dead Flowers”
In an economy such as we are in at present, it is of utmost importance not to waste financial resources. Any waste of a dollar becomes that much harder to overcome, and even more difficult to justify.
The decision to grant financial assistance to deserving students must also be looked at in this manner. While all students should be commended for furthering their education, those who take their effort seriously and maximize their potential are well worth any investment made in them, monetarily, or otherwise. This is my story.
I am a 39 year old husband and father of two stepsons, ages 12 and 8, and a daughter, age 5. After twenty years in the financial industry, I was given notice that the industry did not have the wherewithal to continue my employment. I certainly am not the first person to be laid off, but my wife and children were in effect laid off as well. My wife was a recent graduate of Ridley-Lowell Business & Technical Institute in the Internet Technology program, and recommended the school to me.
My mother (previously) and my sister (currently) are or were hospital employees, specifically Emergency Room Technicians. Being able to use their experience in combination with my courses at the school allow me to excel in the Medical Assistant program. I am carrying a 4.0 GPA through three semesters, and I started and oversee the current Peer Tutoring program at the school so that others may enhance their learning. In another few weeks as I write this, my journey at school will be over, and I will be a Medical Assistant. It is my intention to take and pass the CMA exam at the earliest convenience, become a Certified Medical Assistant, and quite possibly in time, return to the school to become a teacher in the Medical Assistant program, while being an active member of the AAMA and NYSSMA.
If granted this or any other scholarship such as the Maxine Williams Scholarship that I have also applied for, I will apply it directly to my financial obligations to the school.
Rest assured, by awarding me this scholarship, you will not be watering dead flowers. You will be nurturing the growth of a sapling into a steady tree with branches of knowledge to share someday.
Well, that was it. That's a $500 essay. I thought it was OK when I wrote it, but I really didn't think I would win - and I didn't know that they only awarded one, so excuse me while I pat myself on the back....OK done. I don't do that too much, because I learned a lesson a long time ago - "A pat on the back is 6 inches away from a kick in the ass."
Comments welcome as always - here or on Facebook.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
American Idol? I've got a few questions for you....
So, Bill's mind has been racing today - two entries in one day. Had no intent to do another one...until I just watched tonight's American Idol results show on DVR. Not that anyone associated with the show will ever see my tiny little blog, but hey....if enough people talk about it, you never know.
So here's my open letter to American Idol.
Dear American Idol,
First of all, I am amazed at the reactions you cause from people like me, who are addicted to your show, but would change at least 90% of it if we could. I imagine most of your viewers fall into that category, so the fact that people still rush to their TV 3 times a week for you is impressive. I have some questions to ask - so please, indulge me for a little.
First - why is it that, in your opinion, America can not idolize anyone over the age of 28 years old? You put a maximum age limit on the audition age of 28. I can understand the minimum age limit of 16, because for the most part, children singing sound mostly like cats in a microwave to me, but 28? Really? There are so many people with more ability than the floatsam and jetsam you let get into the televised auditions (for ratings, I get that, but still....), but yet, you break your own rules if you feel you can capitalize on it. Larry Platt gets in to a televised audition at 62 to sing that ridiculous "Pants On The Ground" nonsense. REALLY? It wasn't even that clever...but then again, you did try to shove Adam Lambert down our throats all last year - and as a heterosexual male, the LAST thing I want shoved down my throat is anything to do with Adam Lambert.
Second - can you decide what type of show you really want to be? Are you a true singing contest? If you are, I don't want to hear any more about someone's marketability or look. I care what they sound like. I will buy the CD to listen to the music, not to ogle the cover. Carrie Underwood may be a gorgeous young lady, but she can SING. Opening the voting to the public basically turns it from a singing competition to a general likeability competition. Kellie Pickler was likable - in a younger version of Rose from the Golden Girls way - but she couldn't sing her way out of the proverbial wet paper bag. That's what happens when you turn the voting over to the public, where people will vote for whomever makes their blood boil over, regardless if they sound like a water buffalo in heat, or worse...Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia. Ugh. Which brings me to my next question....
Third - Why call Simon, Randy, Kara, and now Ellen "judges"? A judge has the ability to directly affect the outcome of something. If I get a speeding ticket, the "judge" doesn't just give me advice, then turn it over to the gallery to decide my fine. What these people are reduced to is called a "critic" - someone who gives an opinion about something, which may or may not influence a person's own free will about their thoughts regarding something. If I want to see a movie, and a critic says the movie's terrible, I may consider it, but in the end, if I want to see it, I'll still see it, regardless of the critic's opinion. If you want them to be "judges", give them decision making authority. Have the 4 of them vote to send someone home. If they agree with the popular vote, then that person goes home. If they don't agree, send BOTH people home.
Fourth - make it a little less predictable please. Tonight, if you weren't one of the last two people in a group to get reviewed, you were safe, and you knew it. I don't need to hear what the "critics" (I refuse to call them judges) had to say about everyone. Otherwise, it's just way too contrived.
Those are my questions. I will not expect any answers - I'm sure others have expressed these very same thoughts, but if you have any concrete answers to any of them, contact me. Comment here and get in touch. I would love to hear what your rationale is.
Sincerely,
Bill Winters,
Author - No Filter Required.
There it is folks. Comment away - either below or on the Facebook link.
So here's my open letter to American Idol.
Dear American Idol,
First of all, I am amazed at the reactions you cause from people like me, who are addicted to your show, but would change at least 90% of it if we could. I imagine most of your viewers fall into that category, so the fact that people still rush to their TV 3 times a week for you is impressive. I have some questions to ask - so please, indulge me for a little.
First - why is it that, in your opinion, America can not idolize anyone over the age of 28 years old? You put a maximum age limit on the audition age of 28. I can understand the minimum age limit of 16, because for the most part, children singing sound mostly like cats in a microwave to me, but 28? Really? There are so many people with more ability than the floatsam and jetsam you let get into the televised auditions (for ratings, I get that, but still....), but yet, you break your own rules if you feel you can capitalize on it. Larry Platt gets in to a televised audition at 62 to sing that ridiculous "Pants On The Ground" nonsense. REALLY? It wasn't even that clever...but then again, you did try to shove Adam Lambert down our throats all last year - and as a heterosexual male, the LAST thing I want shoved down my throat is anything to do with Adam Lambert.
Second - can you decide what type of show you really want to be? Are you a true singing contest? If you are, I don't want to hear any more about someone's marketability or look. I care what they sound like. I will buy the CD to listen to the music, not to ogle the cover. Carrie Underwood may be a gorgeous young lady, but she can SING. Opening the voting to the public basically turns it from a singing competition to a general likeability competition. Kellie Pickler was likable - in a younger version of Rose from the Golden Girls way - but she couldn't sing her way out of the proverbial wet paper bag. That's what happens when you turn the voting over to the public, where people will vote for whomever makes their blood boil over, regardless if they sound like a water buffalo in heat, or worse...Pierce Brosnan in Mamma Mia. Ugh. Which brings me to my next question....
Third - Why call Simon, Randy, Kara, and now Ellen "judges"? A judge has the ability to directly affect the outcome of something. If I get a speeding ticket, the "judge" doesn't just give me advice, then turn it over to the gallery to decide my fine. What these people are reduced to is called a "critic" - someone who gives an opinion about something, which may or may not influence a person's own free will about their thoughts regarding something. If I want to see a movie, and a critic says the movie's terrible, I may consider it, but in the end, if I want to see it, I'll still see it, regardless of the critic's opinion. If you want them to be "judges", give them decision making authority. Have the 4 of them vote to send someone home. If they agree with the popular vote, then that person goes home. If they don't agree, send BOTH people home.
Fourth - make it a little less predictable please. Tonight, if you weren't one of the last two people in a group to get reviewed, you were safe, and you knew it. I don't need to hear what the "critics" (I refuse to call them judges) had to say about everyone. Otherwise, it's just way too contrived.
Those are my questions. I will not expect any answers - I'm sure others have expressed these very same thoughts, but if you have any concrete answers to any of them, contact me. Comment here and get in touch. I would love to hear what your rationale is.
Sincerely,
Bill Winters,
Author - No Filter Required.
There it is folks. Comment away - either below or on the Facebook link.
Taking requests!! This one is for my brother Jim - Olympic Hockey
It seems as if enough people are interested in my ramblings that now I'm getting recommendations on what I should write about - and I must say, I'm actually surprised. So many of you are reacting positively to what I write, that I hope I don't end up letting you down. So as I sit watching the snow come down like it did when I was little...I will write about a topic that my brother asked me to write about, that is near and dear to me....hockey. Specifically, Olympic Hockey.
I don't know how many of you remember the Miracle on Ice - the 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team, a bunch of rag-tag college kids that had no business competing on any level with the PROFESSIONALS from the former Soviet Union. For those that don't understand how seriously hockey was taken in the Soviet Union back then, if you were a hockey player at the elite level, playing for the National Team counted as MILITARY SERVICE. That's why they called themselves the "Soviet Red Army Team". These players had played together for the better part of 10 years, and knew each other so well that they could very well play with their eyes closed. We also were in the middle of the Cold War with them at the time, and as such, President Carter boycotted the 1980 Summer games in Moscow.
The US team in 1980 was a bunch of college kids - straight amateurs (yes people, the US used to send AMATEURS to the Olympics instead of professionals - back then, the onus wasn't on how many medals we could win, like it is now. The more medals the better - it's like the international "My **** is bigger than your ****" mentality, and we don't care who we have to send in order to be the top dog.) These kids were thrown together by a visionary coach named Herb Brooks who realized that there was only one way to beat this Soviet team - and put those kids through hell to get them to win. On a Friday afternoon, in February of 1980, the USA beat the heavily favored Soviets in what is known as the Miracle on Ice. What most people forget is that WASN'T the gold medal game. The US won the Gold Medal two days later by beating Finland.
In 1984 and 1988, the USA did not come close to medaling, and eventually this became a cause for embarrassment among the US Olympic Commitee. In 1998, an agreement was reached to shatter the dreams of college and amateur players by allowing professionals to represent their respective nations in the Olympics. It has been that way since.
I watched with some semblance of pride the USA defeat Canada this past Sunday in a preliminary round game that just happened to occur on the 30th anniversary of the 1980 team beating the Soviets. Some people were actually calling this a second "Miracle on Ice". That is so much bologna, Boar's Head should sue. The Olympic hockey tournament now is nothing more than a tweaked, international NHL All-Star game, although there is a little more checking than in a regular All-Star game, where nobody hits anyone, and games are decided by scores like 14-11. Sure, the players all say the right things..."It's an honor to represent your country. We want to bring the Gold Medal home to (country of origin)", but in reality, if they don't win the Gold, these guys will go back to earning a pretty nice paycheck playing the game professionally.
Part of what made 1980 so unbelievable and memorable was that those kids, save for a couple of them, had nothing to go home to after. Some of them had been drafted out of college, but those games, and their performance in those games, propelled them to their pro careers. If they hadn't won, most of those boys would have been done with hockey after that point. That is what made the story so great.
I am not anti-American - in fact I enjoyed beating the Canadians the other day. Canadians are generally great people, but their presumed "ownership" of the game of hockey makes them a little smug towards Americans regarding it. I also liked watching Candian crybaby Sidney Crosby lose, but that's a personal thing. If the USA wins the Gold, I will be happy, but it will never feel like 1980. Nothing ever will.
Anything else you want an opinion on, drop me a comment here or on Facebook. I will try to accommodate you - if I have a strong enough opinion.
I don't know how many of you remember the Miracle on Ice - the 1980 US Olympic Hockey Team, a bunch of rag-tag college kids that had no business competing on any level with the PROFESSIONALS from the former Soviet Union. For those that don't understand how seriously hockey was taken in the Soviet Union back then, if you were a hockey player at the elite level, playing for the National Team counted as MILITARY SERVICE. That's why they called themselves the "Soviet Red Army Team". These players had played together for the better part of 10 years, and knew each other so well that they could very well play with their eyes closed. We also were in the middle of the Cold War with them at the time, and as such, President Carter boycotted the 1980 Summer games in Moscow.
The US team in 1980 was a bunch of college kids - straight amateurs (yes people, the US used to send AMATEURS to the Olympics instead of professionals - back then, the onus wasn't on how many medals we could win, like it is now. The more medals the better - it's like the international "My **** is bigger than your ****" mentality, and we don't care who we have to send in order to be the top dog.) These kids were thrown together by a visionary coach named Herb Brooks who realized that there was only one way to beat this Soviet team - and put those kids through hell to get them to win. On a Friday afternoon, in February of 1980, the USA beat the heavily favored Soviets in what is known as the Miracle on Ice. What most people forget is that WASN'T the gold medal game. The US won the Gold Medal two days later by beating Finland.
In 1984 and 1988, the USA did not come close to medaling, and eventually this became a cause for embarrassment among the US Olympic Commitee. In 1998, an agreement was reached to shatter the dreams of college and amateur players by allowing professionals to represent their respective nations in the Olympics. It has been that way since.
I watched with some semblance of pride the USA defeat Canada this past Sunday in a preliminary round game that just happened to occur on the 30th anniversary of the 1980 team beating the Soviets. Some people were actually calling this a second "Miracle on Ice". That is so much bologna, Boar's Head should sue. The Olympic hockey tournament now is nothing more than a tweaked, international NHL All-Star game, although there is a little more checking than in a regular All-Star game, where nobody hits anyone, and games are decided by scores like 14-11. Sure, the players all say the right things..."It's an honor to represent your country. We want to bring the Gold Medal home to (country of origin)", but in reality, if they don't win the Gold, these guys will go back to earning a pretty nice paycheck playing the game professionally.
Part of what made 1980 so unbelievable and memorable was that those kids, save for a couple of them, had nothing to go home to after. Some of them had been drafted out of college, but those games, and their performance in those games, propelled them to their pro careers. If they hadn't won, most of those boys would have been done with hockey after that point. That is what made the story so great.
I am not anti-American - in fact I enjoyed beating the Canadians the other day. Canadians are generally great people, but their presumed "ownership" of the game of hockey makes them a little smug towards Americans regarding it. I also liked watching Candian crybaby Sidney Crosby lose, but that's a personal thing. If the USA wins the Gold, I will be happy, but it will never feel like 1980. Nothing ever will.
Anything else you want an opinion on, drop me a comment here or on Facebook. I will try to accommodate you - if I have a strong enough opinion.
Monday, February 22, 2010
As promised - for Mel. "GOING OUT"
I mentioned in my last post (which seems like forever ago now that I have an actual paying job that takes up a lot of my time) that I would touch upon a subject that didn't really affect me very much when I was younger, but now that I have a stepson and he has cousins in the middle school age range, I feel the need to vent a little....OK, a LOT. This is a gift to an old friend of mine, Melanie, who specifically requested that I follow up on this, and as I was planning on it anyway, I thought I'd do her a solid. Here you go, Mel.
My stepson Wyatt is now 13 years old. He is in the 7th grade at Highland Middle School, and as such, is now subjected to the unavoidable middle school phenomenon of "GOING OUT". This seems to be a much bigger deal for middle school girls than it does for boys, but I digress...more on that a little bit later. I want to touch on the actual term "GOING OUT."
I will fully admit that in middle school, basically all the way up to my sophomore year in high school, puberty was not kind to me. I had terrible skin, was skinny, and other than hockey, my only discernible talent was playing trumpet for the school band. Stevie Wonder could see that this recipe did not lead to a whole lot of relationships with the fairer gender. I had my first serious girlfriend my junior year of high school. I certainly was INTERESTED in girls before then, but nothing ever came of any of my interests - mostly because I was too shy to act upon them. I seem to remember a few instances of people "going out" in jr. high (there was no middle school back in the dark ages of the mid 80's), but for the most part, I don't EVER remember it being like now. Wyatt just recently had his first true "relationship" (which in middle school time means anything more than 7 days) end. This girl originally called him ON HIS BIRTHDAY to "break up" with him. He was understandably upset. More on this later....
The whole term "GOING OUT", when taken literally, means that one person actually goes out and does something in a public place with someone else, does it not? When I was in high school, and I was "going out" with my first serious girlfriend, she would go to my hockey games with me, we went to concerts, movies, things like that. In middle school, "GOING OUT" apparently translates to walking in the hallways or possibly meeting at a school dance. Wyatt did take his little miserable troll who broke up with him ON HIS BIRTHDAY (did I mention that already?) on a sort of "date" where Janel and I chaperoned them along with Cole and Emily to the ice rink to go public skating, but that was really the extent of their "going out" - I guess she did go to two of his hockey games also, now that I think about it.
The whole point of this rant is that I know of middle schoolers, 99% of which are girls, who have "GONE OUT" with the better part of 15 - 20 people since school started 5 MONTHS AGO, like it's a status symbol. Oh trust me - it's a status symbol alright as you get older, but not one that any girl wants to get pegged with (ask Melvin the Superhero from Jeff Dunham what he calls them..."What's a Wahore?"). It does seem to me that it is WAY more important to the girls than it is to the boys, and I am really curious as to why that is. Marriage statistics being what they are in this country should prove that any girl doesn't need to be attached to a man to determine her self worth, as I know many divorced women who are strong, independent people who, while they enjoy the company of someone, do not necessarily LIVE for it.
As you get older, there are unwritten rules about who you should or shouldn't date (like for men, NEVER date a best friend's ex, even if you want to, because of the old "Bros before Hos" adage - which I hate that term, but it does make me laugh in a Dr. Seuss meets Snoop Dogg kind of way). I can't imagine that these rules exist in middle school - if they did, there would be a lot less fighting about it. I think for these middle schoolers, it's more about the label of "GOING OUT" with someone than actually having any feelings for them, because in reality, where are you going? At 13, is this boy picking you up on the weekend and taking you to lunch, or a movie, or anyplace in a public setting? Or are you just sending text messages back and forth professing "undying love" until 14 days later when some other boy buys a new shirt that makes him look cuter than your current boyfriend? Is it worth the hassle?
If I was a middle school administrator, I would seriously consider invoking some sort of rule against the label of "GOING OUT". I just don't see where anything good comes of it at that age. When Wyatt had his girlfriend, his school work suffered terribly, and just now is he taking the steps to catch up on it. Of course, I told him he should lay low for a while on that front to improve his school work, but because of pressure from his friends (mostly his female friends again), he apparently is "going out" with another new girl - who we have never met because he hasn't really "gone out" anywhere with her.
I'm expecting a ton of opinions on this, some good, some bad - so fire away! ALL OPINIONS ARE WELCOMED AND RESPECTED! If you don't agree with me, that's beautiful - that's how meaningful discussions start that can usually lead to an agreement somewhere in the middle. Remember, this is "No Filter Required" - so your responses do not have to be filtered either!!
My stepson Wyatt is now 13 years old. He is in the 7th grade at Highland Middle School, and as such, is now subjected to the unavoidable middle school phenomenon of "GOING OUT". This seems to be a much bigger deal for middle school girls than it does for boys, but I digress...more on that a little bit later. I want to touch on the actual term "GOING OUT."
I will fully admit that in middle school, basically all the way up to my sophomore year in high school, puberty was not kind to me. I had terrible skin, was skinny, and other than hockey, my only discernible talent was playing trumpet for the school band. Stevie Wonder could see that this recipe did not lead to a whole lot of relationships with the fairer gender. I had my first serious girlfriend my junior year of high school. I certainly was INTERESTED in girls before then, but nothing ever came of any of my interests - mostly because I was too shy to act upon them. I seem to remember a few instances of people "going out" in jr. high (there was no middle school back in the dark ages of the mid 80's), but for the most part, I don't EVER remember it being like now. Wyatt just recently had his first true "relationship" (which in middle school time means anything more than 7 days) end. This girl originally called him ON HIS BIRTHDAY to "break up" with him. He was understandably upset. More on this later....
The whole term "GOING OUT", when taken literally, means that one person actually goes out and does something in a public place with someone else, does it not? When I was in high school, and I was "going out" with my first serious girlfriend, she would go to my hockey games with me, we went to concerts, movies, things like that. In middle school, "GOING OUT" apparently translates to walking in the hallways or possibly meeting at a school dance. Wyatt did take his little miserable troll who broke up with him ON HIS BIRTHDAY (did I mention that already?) on a sort of "date" where Janel and I chaperoned them along with Cole and Emily to the ice rink to go public skating, but that was really the extent of their "going out" - I guess she did go to two of his hockey games also, now that I think about it.
The whole point of this rant is that I know of middle schoolers, 99% of which are girls, who have "GONE OUT" with the better part of 15 - 20 people since school started 5 MONTHS AGO, like it's a status symbol. Oh trust me - it's a status symbol alright as you get older, but not one that any girl wants to get pegged with (ask Melvin the Superhero from Jeff Dunham what he calls them..."What's a Wahore?"). It does seem to me that it is WAY more important to the girls than it is to the boys, and I am really curious as to why that is. Marriage statistics being what they are in this country should prove that any girl doesn't need to be attached to a man to determine her self worth, as I know many divorced women who are strong, independent people who, while they enjoy the company of someone, do not necessarily LIVE for it.
As you get older, there are unwritten rules about who you should or shouldn't date (like for men, NEVER date a best friend's ex, even if you want to, because of the old "Bros before Hos" adage - which I hate that term, but it does make me laugh in a Dr. Seuss meets Snoop Dogg kind of way). I can't imagine that these rules exist in middle school - if they did, there would be a lot less fighting about it. I think for these middle schoolers, it's more about the label of "GOING OUT" with someone than actually having any feelings for them, because in reality, where are you going? At 13, is this boy picking you up on the weekend and taking you to lunch, or a movie, or anyplace in a public setting? Or are you just sending text messages back and forth professing "undying love" until 14 days later when some other boy buys a new shirt that makes him look cuter than your current boyfriend? Is it worth the hassle?
If I was a middle school administrator, I would seriously consider invoking some sort of rule against the label of "GOING OUT". I just don't see where anything good comes of it at that age. When Wyatt had his girlfriend, his school work suffered terribly, and just now is he taking the steps to catch up on it. Of course, I told him he should lay low for a while on that front to improve his school work, but because of pressure from his friends (mostly his female friends again), he apparently is "going out" with another new girl - who we have never met because he hasn't really "gone out" anywhere with her.
I'm expecting a ton of opinions on this, some good, some bad - so fire away! ALL OPINIONS ARE WELCOMED AND RESPECTED! If you don't agree with me, that's beautiful - that's how meaningful discussions start that can usually lead to an agreement somewhere in the middle. Remember, this is "No Filter Required" - so your responses do not have to be filtered either!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
OMG! LMFAO! FML! WTF? - Ugh.
I don't quite know when it happened, and I haven't reached "You kids get off of my lawn!" status, but I am officially a cranky old person. Admitting your problem is the first step toward recovery, but I'm not so sure I want to recover.
When exactly did the whole phenomenon of abbreviating EVERYTHING start? I really have no idea - but I seem to remember back when everyone was on America Online (AOL - of course they had to abbreviate that too!), it started with the infamous "LOL" - laughing out loud. Look, I know what I typed was supposed to be funny - and I assume you're laughing at it - you don't need to tell me you are by going "LOL". If that was the case, most boys would have been typing "LAPJO" - I'll let you figure that one out.
Of course, it isn't enough to just Laugh Out Loud - if it's REALLY funny, I made you LMFAO - "Laugh My F***ing Ass Off", because what's better than an acronym with the F-bomb in it? Especially for 13 and 14 year old kids (sometimes even younger) to get away with cursing because parents are old and they don't know what it means! Please...kids, how dumb do you think we are?
Of course, "WTF" popped up for "What the f***?", again, ostensibly, for kids to curse without cursing. The latest one I have been been seeing with regularity is "FML" - which, for the unknowing, is "F*** My Life" because life is just so terrible for a 14 or 15 year old with their own laptop and cell phone just because some long-haired skater punk wouldn't "go out" with them in Junior High School - like anyone actually goes anywhere at that age. That's another blog topic entirely - I'm sure I'll hit that one when the mood strikes me.
My point is this - the generations that are now one or two generations below ours (you know where we are at - almost 40, facing mid-life crisis, worrying about our children AND our parents) have access to much more information, have the chance to be much better educated than we were at that age....and are so completely lazy, that they don't possess the energy to type out full words. "U" has become commonplace for "you" - it was different when Prince was doing it to song titles back in the 80's, but now it's lazy and ridiculous. "Ur" can be "your" or "you're", meaning that the grammar lessons we were taught in school are just too challenging for these kids, so they avoid them.
This entire concept of "text language" allows people to text 200 "words" a minute, but in the grand scheme of things, is it worth saving the time for the dumbing down of America? Help me out here...I can't be the only one who finds this to be completely ridiculous.
As always, comments are welcome here or on the Facebook link to this entry. I am REALLY anxious to hear what our loyal followers have to say!
When exactly did the whole phenomenon of abbreviating EVERYTHING start? I really have no idea - but I seem to remember back when everyone was on America Online (AOL - of course they had to abbreviate that too!), it started with the infamous "LOL" - laughing out loud. Look, I know what I typed was supposed to be funny - and I assume you're laughing at it - you don't need to tell me you are by going "LOL". If that was the case, most boys would have been typing "LAPJO" - I'll let you figure that one out.
Of course, it isn't enough to just Laugh Out Loud - if it's REALLY funny, I made you LMFAO - "Laugh My F***ing Ass Off", because what's better than an acronym with the F-bomb in it? Especially for 13 and 14 year old kids (sometimes even younger) to get away with cursing because parents are old and they don't know what it means! Please...kids, how dumb do you think we are?
Of course, "WTF" popped up for "What the f***?", again, ostensibly, for kids to curse without cursing. The latest one I have been been seeing with regularity is "FML" - which, for the unknowing, is "F*** My Life" because life is just so terrible for a 14 or 15 year old with their own laptop and cell phone just because some long-haired skater punk wouldn't "go out" with them in Junior High School - like anyone actually goes anywhere at that age. That's another blog topic entirely - I'm sure I'll hit that one when the mood strikes me.
My point is this - the generations that are now one or two generations below ours (you know where we are at - almost 40, facing mid-life crisis, worrying about our children AND our parents) have access to much more information, have the chance to be much better educated than we were at that age....and are so completely lazy, that they don't possess the energy to type out full words. "U" has become commonplace for "you" - it was different when Prince was doing it to song titles back in the 80's, but now it's lazy and ridiculous. "Ur" can be "your" or "you're", meaning that the grammar lessons we were taught in school are just too challenging for these kids, so they avoid them.
This entire concept of "text language" allows people to text 200 "words" a minute, but in the grand scheme of things, is it worth saving the time for the dumbing down of America? Help me out here...I can't be the only one who finds this to be completely ridiculous.
As always, comments are welcome here or on the Facebook link to this entry. I am REALLY anxious to hear what our loyal followers have to say!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Valentine's Day... the highs and lows.
Why is it that every holiday seems like it's tailor made for women? This Sunday is Valentine's Day - or as Janel likes to make me call it, "Janel Day". A day where your partner, who knows you love them unconditionally without fanfare for most of the other 364 days in a year, expects...nay, DEMANDS that you prove it by way of enough pink infused gifts to look like someone threw up a giant bottle of Pepto Bismol all over the world.
I love my wife - and I look forward to sharing special days and times with her, but I will not go out and buy roses for her (she HATES roses - more on that in a later post, I promise you!). Chocolate? Sure - but that's because I like chocolate and will weasel my way into sharing it with her.
When possible, based on time and finances, we like to celebrate our special days (anniversary, birthdays, "Janel Day") by taking a trip down to NYC. It's a 90 minute train ride to NYC from where we live, and we usually go try and score tickets to a Broadway show by winning the ticket lottery - if you have no idea what that is, you show up at the theater 2 1/2 hours before showtime usually, fill out a ticket with your name and 1 or 2 tickets (2 is always the limit). About 2 hours before the show, they draw names to cover a certain number of tickets - usually between 20 and 30, and ALL at the front of the house - prime seats!! If you are drawn, you can buy these premium tickets for roughly $30 (normally about $180) each - however you must pay CASH. We have won three ticket lotteries in our time - we saw Rent, In the Heights, and the new West Side Story - and all three were fantastic. So, depending on time, finances, and the weather, that looks to be our plan for this Sunday again.
I feel bad for those who have no partner. I was in that group for a LONG time, and I used to absolutely hate Valentine's Day. The thought of going to a club or bar to meet with other bitter singles on that day just makes my skin crawl. I can see it now for most of these people - lots of alcohol, "Hey, you're cute (as viewed through beer goggles)" "So are you" - an alcohol infused sexual encounter, then even more bitterness the following day, because nobody ever calls the next day.
I find it very amusing that Valentine's Day and Venereal Disease can both be abbreviated VD. Draw your own conclusions on that one!
I am lucky though. I finally have someone special to spend my Valentine's Days with - even if it is "Janel Day" and never "Bill Day". "Bill Day" will come when the Rangers make the Stanley Cup Finals, and there won't be any advertisements on TV for that!
On a personal note, I'm happy you all seem to enjoy my little brain droppings - I'll try to keep them coming, but I am back to being a working man, so there won't be as many frequent entries, so I'll try to up the quality!
I love my wife - and I look forward to sharing special days and times with her, but I will not go out and buy roses for her (she HATES roses - more on that in a later post, I promise you!). Chocolate? Sure - but that's because I like chocolate and will weasel my way into sharing it with her.
When possible, based on time and finances, we like to celebrate our special days (anniversary, birthdays, "Janel Day") by taking a trip down to NYC. It's a 90 minute train ride to NYC from where we live, and we usually go try and score tickets to a Broadway show by winning the ticket lottery - if you have no idea what that is, you show up at the theater 2 1/2 hours before showtime usually, fill out a ticket with your name and 1 or 2 tickets (2 is always the limit). About 2 hours before the show, they draw names to cover a certain number of tickets - usually between 20 and 30, and ALL at the front of the house - prime seats!! If you are drawn, you can buy these premium tickets for roughly $30 (normally about $180) each - however you must pay CASH. We have won three ticket lotteries in our time - we saw Rent, In the Heights, and the new West Side Story - and all three were fantastic. So, depending on time, finances, and the weather, that looks to be our plan for this Sunday again.
I feel bad for those who have no partner. I was in that group for a LONG time, and I used to absolutely hate Valentine's Day. The thought of going to a club or bar to meet with other bitter singles on that day just makes my skin crawl. I can see it now for most of these people - lots of alcohol, "Hey, you're cute (as viewed through beer goggles)" "So are you" - an alcohol infused sexual encounter, then even more bitterness the following day, because nobody ever calls the next day.
I find it very amusing that Valentine's Day and Venereal Disease can both be abbreviated VD. Draw your own conclusions on that one!
I am lucky though. I finally have someone special to spend my Valentine's Days with - even if it is "Janel Day" and never "Bill Day". "Bill Day" will come when the Rangers make the Stanley Cup Finals, and there won't be any advertisements on TV for that!
On a personal note, I'm happy you all seem to enjoy my little brain droppings - I'll try to keep them coming, but I am back to being a working man, so there won't be as many frequent entries, so I'll try to up the quality!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Happy Birthday, Bird! Daddy LOVES you!
Tomorrow is a huge day for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, tomorrow shows that going back to school at the age of 38 was not a waste of time last year. I took a 12 month Medical Assistant course at a local vocational/technical institution, and graduated this past December with a 4.0 GPA. After years of being in banking, I am now a Medical Assistant - so I went from being a blood sucker to a blood drawer! I kid...but not really.
Tomorrow is equally, if not more so, important because 6 years ago tomorrow, my life gained a completely different meaning and focus. I became a father for the first (and only) time. Of course, I did have the training wheels of being a stepfather for a year prior to that, but this was different. I was responsible for EVERYTHING for this child. I was scared to death - still am. Six years has only frightened me even more.
On February 9, 2004, on a very chilly Monday night, at 11:17 PM, a little girl was born at Vassar Brothers Medical Center. She was 7 pounds, 13 ounces, 20 inches long, and feisty. Her given name was Emily Grace Winters, and she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My wife Janel was so brave in going through that ordeal. I was told when we were married that I had ONE SHOT to give her a girl - and I couldn't have asked for a better one.
Everything I do now has a meaning that it never did before I became a father. Sure, there's a lot more responsibility, but I gladly accept that. To see her smile feels like a warm blanket completely covers me. To hear "I love you Daddy" makes me feel completely unworthy of such high praise, but because I love her so much back, it kind of evens out.
So as I start my new career tomorrow, I do so with the express intent of providing for my wonderful family - my beautiful wife, my two awesome little goofballs Wyatt and Cole, and for my legacy....my beautiful Baby Bird. For you Emily, I (eye) LOVE (self hug) YOU (point to you) FOR (4 fingers up) EVER (3 fingers sideways to make an "E").
Tomorrow is equally, if not more so, important because 6 years ago tomorrow, my life gained a completely different meaning and focus. I became a father for the first (and only) time. Of course, I did have the training wheels of being a stepfather for a year prior to that, but this was different. I was responsible for EVERYTHING for this child. I was scared to death - still am. Six years has only frightened me even more.
On February 9, 2004, on a very chilly Monday night, at 11:17 PM, a little girl was born at Vassar Brothers Medical Center. She was 7 pounds, 13 ounces, 20 inches long, and feisty. Her given name was Emily Grace Winters, and she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My wife Janel was so brave in going through that ordeal. I was told when we were married that I had ONE SHOT to give her a girl - and I couldn't have asked for a better one.
Everything I do now has a meaning that it never did before I became a father. Sure, there's a lot more responsibility, but I gladly accept that. To see her smile feels like a warm blanket completely covers me. To hear "I love you Daddy" makes me feel completely unworthy of such high praise, but because I love her so much back, it kind of evens out.
So as I start my new career tomorrow, I do so with the express intent of providing for my wonderful family - my beautiful wife, my two awesome little goofballs Wyatt and Cole, and for my legacy....my beautiful Baby Bird. For you Emily, I (eye) LOVE (self hug) YOU (point to you) FOR (4 fingers up) EVER (3 fingers sideways to make an "E").
Friday, February 5, 2010
I don't know why, but I just do it.
About 45 minutes ago, I got a delivery from UPS. This is not earth shattering - tons of people get UPS deliveries every day, but what happened after that got me to thinking. Let me backtrack....
I opened my package - it was the Flip video camera Wyatt got for Christmas that wasn't working, so I had to send it back to the company for repairs or replacement. So, I get the camera back today - it's in a small carton surrounded by those God-awful green packing peanuts that always seem to get EVERYWHERE, and it was also wrapped in a bubble-wrap pouch.
You know where this is going, don't you?
I proceeded to take the camera out of the bubble-wrap pouch, and although I spent a decent amount of money on the camera, had to withstand the disappointment on Wyatt's face when it didn't work, then had to wait 4 weeks to get it back, you think I put the batteries in immediately and tested the camera to make sure it worked? Nope....
I popped the stupid bubble-wrap.
And I did it with a 5 year old's unabashed joy.
I do it every time something comes in bubble-wrap.
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?? Why do we do stupid meaningless things like that? There are a lot of other stupid, pointless things we do. Some are so stupid, I am ashamed to admit to them.
I will NEVER have cake and ice cream on the same plate - or bowl, or whatever dish ware I'm using. I don't like cold, soggy cake, and I don't like crumbly ice cream, so I keep them separate. My family loves to torture me with this. I literally will throw the whole thing away, plate and all, if someone does that to me.
I will NEVER drink soda before 11:00 AM. I have this weird feeling that if I do, it stays on my teeth for 4 days - no matter how I brush.
Janel is not immune either - she can't open Popsicles. That paper wrapping, when it rips, is like nails on a blackboard to her. I have to take the Popsicle into another room to open it away from her. She also gets completely skeeved if someone drinks the milk from the bowl after eating the cereal. Her exact words - "It's USED MILK!". My response "Yes - but I used it!"
So - what stupid little things do you do? What stupid superstitions or idiosyncrasies do you have? As always, you can comment here or on the Facebook link to this entry.
I opened my package - it was the Flip video camera Wyatt got for Christmas that wasn't working, so I had to send it back to the company for repairs or replacement. So, I get the camera back today - it's in a small carton surrounded by those God-awful green packing peanuts that always seem to get EVERYWHERE, and it was also wrapped in a bubble-wrap pouch.
You know where this is going, don't you?
I proceeded to take the camera out of the bubble-wrap pouch, and although I spent a decent amount of money on the camera, had to withstand the disappointment on Wyatt's face when it didn't work, then had to wait 4 weeks to get it back, you think I put the batteries in immediately and tested the camera to make sure it worked? Nope....
I popped the stupid bubble-wrap.
And I did it with a 5 year old's unabashed joy.
I do it every time something comes in bubble-wrap.
WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?? Why do we do stupid meaningless things like that? There are a lot of other stupid, pointless things we do. Some are so stupid, I am ashamed to admit to them.
I will NEVER have cake and ice cream on the same plate - or bowl, or whatever dish ware I'm using. I don't like cold, soggy cake, and I don't like crumbly ice cream, so I keep them separate. My family loves to torture me with this. I literally will throw the whole thing away, plate and all, if someone does that to me.
I will NEVER drink soda before 11:00 AM. I have this weird feeling that if I do, it stays on my teeth for 4 days - no matter how I brush.
Janel is not immune either - she can't open Popsicles. That paper wrapping, when it rips, is like nails on a blackboard to her. I have to take the Popsicle into another room to open it away from her. She also gets completely skeeved if someone drinks the milk from the bowl after eating the cereal. Her exact words - "It's USED MILK!". My response "Yes - but I used it!"
So - what stupid little things do you do? What stupid superstitions or idiosyncrasies do you have? As always, you can comment here or on the Facebook link to this entry.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Music of our Lives
If you know me at all, you know that I have a great passion for music - unfortunately, most of what I hear on the radio anymore doesn't inspire anything in me. I will admit that I find a lot of Lady GaGa to be hopelessly catchy - I'm sure therapy down the road will be in order. Her lyrics are just silly and childish, but the songs stay in your head for a long time after you hear them. Kind of like brain freeze after a giant straw full of Slurpee.
My tastes are pretty eclectic. If I had an iPod (which I may be the only person living who doesn't), I would have everything on it from Josh Groban to Disturbed to Chris Botti (look it up if you don't know who anyone of these artists is - I suggest going to Amazon and listening to the free snippets that they offer to entice you to buy).
As I sit here, I'm listening to the Rent Soundtrack and swaying a little. There is nothing in this world, in my opinion, that can enhance, or change my mood like music. If I feel lousy, certain songs pick me up. If I want to relax, I play something instrumental. If I feel a little angry, I pop on some Disturbed or go back even further and go for Public Enemy.
I hear what my kids enjoy, and it makes me choke a little - but then, my music choices did the same thing to my father. Dad was all country, all the time. When I was in High School, my dad was the unofficial taxi to many of the hockey practices and games because we had a big Suburban. If you didn't tolerate country music, you might just as well look for another ride - he was very stubborn that way. His car - his music. End of story.
I find myself doing the same thing sometimes, and my kids get angry about it. I have zero tolerance for Miley Cyrus - if I met her, I might want to hit her with a wiffle bat and tell her just to stop - stop everything. The bad acting, the helium sounding voice, the holier than thou attitude. Unfortunately, my daughter loves her. So I drive through gritted teeth as I endure "The Climb" for the 4,734,892nd time.
I get upset though that, for the most part, the kids don't keep an open mind regarding my choices of music. Because of my father incessantly playing country music, I found myself as I got older buying the very same things he had on cassette (remember THEM?) in the truck. So my collection does indeed include Marty Robbins, the Oak Ridge Boys, Jerry Reed and some other things. Emily does enjoy some of the old stuff I picked up from my Dad. She loves Dolly Parton's "Jolene" - which I picked up because of my Dad.
So - what do you dabble in? Do you, if you are in my age group, revert back to our wonderful 80's hair bands (Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, Poison)? Do you go a little edgier (Ozzy, Iron Maiden)? Do you jam out to the old stuff we listened to at Berties or Let's Dance? Are you a hip-hop connoisseur from years ago (Rob Base, LL Cool J, Run-DMC)? Do you watch Glee, and smile at some of the stuff they do? I do. HUGE fan of that show!!
Here's my challenge to you - find 3 songs you listened to religiously, and play them for your kids, and have them play 3 for you - and don't judge - just enjoy. If you don't enjoy the music, enjoy that they're enjoying it. Close your eyes if it helps. Trust me - things grow on you. I hated Lady GaGa - but now I find myself humming that "Bad Romance" song, so I just go with it. You only live once - might as well enjoy it with some good tunes.
Tell me what you blast in the house when nobody's around - and be proud of it!!
ROCK ON!!
My tastes are pretty eclectic. If I had an iPod (which I may be the only person living who doesn't), I would have everything on it from Josh Groban to Disturbed to Chris Botti (look it up if you don't know who anyone of these artists is - I suggest going to Amazon and listening to the free snippets that they offer to entice you to buy).
As I sit here, I'm listening to the Rent Soundtrack and swaying a little. There is nothing in this world, in my opinion, that can enhance, or change my mood like music. If I feel lousy, certain songs pick me up. If I want to relax, I play something instrumental. If I feel a little angry, I pop on some Disturbed or go back even further and go for Public Enemy.
I hear what my kids enjoy, and it makes me choke a little - but then, my music choices did the same thing to my father. Dad was all country, all the time. When I was in High School, my dad was the unofficial taxi to many of the hockey practices and games because we had a big Suburban. If you didn't tolerate country music, you might just as well look for another ride - he was very stubborn that way. His car - his music. End of story.
I find myself doing the same thing sometimes, and my kids get angry about it. I have zero tolerance for Miley Cyrus - if I met her, I might want to hit her with a wiffle bat and tell her just to stop - stop everything. The bad acting, the helium sounding voice, the holier than thou attitude. Unfortunately, my daughter loves her. So I drive through gritted teeth as I endure "The Climb" for the 4,734,892nd time.
I get upset though that, for the most part, the kids don't keep an open mind regarding my choices of music. Because of my father incessantly playing country music, I found myself as I got older buying the very same things he had on cassette (remember THEM?) in the truck. So my collection does indeed include Marty Robbins, the Oak Ridge Boys, Jerry Reed and some other things. Emily does enjoy some of the old stuff I picked up from my Dad. She loves Dolly Parton's "Jolene" - which I picked up because of my Dad.
So - what do you dabble in? Do you, if you are in my age group, revert back to our wonderful 80's hair bands (Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, Poison)? Do you go a little edgier (Ozzy, Iron Maiden)? Do you jam out to the old stuff we listened to at Berties or Let's Dance? Are you a hip-hop connoisseur from years ago (Rob Base, LL Cool J, Run-DMC)? Do you watch Glee, and smile at some of the stuff they do? I do. HUGE fan of that show!!
Here's my challenge to you - find 3 songs you listened to religiously, and play them for your kids, and have them play 3 for you - and don't judge - just enjoy. If you don't enjoy the music, enjoy that they're enjoying it. Close your eyes if it helps. Trust me - things grow on you. I hated Lady GaGa - but now I find myself humming that "Bad Romance" song, so I just go with it. You only live once - might as well enjoy it with some good tunes.
Tell me what you blast in the house when nobody's around - and be proud of it!!
ROCK ON!!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
My daughter Emily is going to be 6 years old next week. I can't believe that it has been 6 years since the happiest moment of my life turned into the scariest. I went from "Look at this beautiful angel sent to me!" to "OK, how long before I screw THIS up?" I'm lucky in the fact that Emily still respects her parents, grandparents, uncles - basically she loves everyone. She's also incredibly intelligent for a kid her age.
SIDE NOTE - I was an extremely intelligent child - learned to read at a very early age, and was basically a bookworm/nerd all throughout elementary school, so the intelligence thing doesn't surprise me.
Bird (that's her nickname - when she was born, her mouth was open like a baby bird looking for food, so from age 30 seconds, she has been Bird, or Birdie) also has been blessed with a steel trap for a memory. When I was back in school last year studying to become a Medical Assistant, Bird was constantly looking at my books. "Daddy, is this the body?" "Yes it is honey" "I want to learn about the body too"
So, last year, she's in the pre-k program at Holy Trinity School - and they have a book fair. Emily wants money for a book - I figure it will end up being some Dora the Explorer book, but she gets a children's book on the human body, and she knows that book inside out now.
So when Bird grows up - she's going to be the next.......wait for it......
Billy Mays
As you quit giggling, let me explain. This warped little child has/had a FASCINATION with that man. No matter what she saw on TV, if he was selling it, she wanted it. I had to buy something to repair a tear in my hockey equipment, so I bought some of that Mighty Mendit - and his face was on the box - she was CHEERING around the house. She knows the words and catchphrase to every infomercial, and she was DEVASTATED when I told her that Billy Mays was in heaven with her Grandfather.
She has wanted the little mini hamburger pan (they call it a Slider maker) for the last two years! SHE ASKED FOR IT FOR CHRISTMAS!
So, if they ever decide to do infomercials for kids products, toys and that sort of thing, don't be surprised if you hear "HI - EMILY WINTERS HERE FOR THE _________"
And I would be so proud!!
SIDE NOTE - I was an extremely intelligent child - learned to read at a very early age, and was basically a bookworm/nerd all throughout elementary school, so the intelligence thing doesn't surprise me.
Bird (that's her nickname - when she was born, her mouth was open like a baby bird looking for food, so from age 30 seconds, she has been Bird, or Birdie) also has been blessed with a steel trap for a memory. When I was back in school last year studying to become a Medical Assistant, Bird was constantly looking at my books. "Daddy, is this the body?" "Yes it is honey" "I want to learn about the body too"
So, last year, she's in the pre-k program at Holy Trinity School - and they have a book fair. Emily wants money for a book - I figure it will end up being some Dora the Explorer book, but she gets a children's book on the human body, and she knows that book inside out now.
So when Bird grows up - she's going to be the next.......wait for it......
Billy Mays
As you quit giggling, let me explain. This warped little child has/had a FASCINATION with that man. No matter what she saw on TV, if he was selling it, she wanted it. I had to buy something to repair a tear in my hockey equipment, so I bought some of that Mighty Mendit - and his face was on the box - she was CHEERING around the house. She knows the words and catchphrase to every infomercial, and she was DEVASTATED when I told her that Billy Mays was in heaven with her Grandfather.
She has wanted the little mini hamburger pan (they call it a Slider maker) for the last two years! SHE ASKED FOR IT FOR CHRISTMAS!
So, if they ever decide to do infomercials for kids products, toys and that sort of thing, don't be surprised if you hear "HI - EMILY WINTERS HERE FOR THE _________"
And I would be so proud!!
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