Awwww Hell no.... Tagged again.... Dammit....

Well, thanks to my dear friend Connie, I have been tagged once again. What do I mean by this? Why does this seem to cause me so much distress? It is the simple fact that I now have to come up with 7 things that you people probably don't know about me or were afraid to ask. The part that really gets to me though is that I am supposed tag 7 people. Not going to happen. You cannot make me and I will not do it. Some people may be okay with piling on unnecessary guilt to unsuspecting fat guys but this fat guy won't do it. I won't. Watch me. I will, however, participate in the seven details about me. I have done this once before so i am going to try to come up with new facts. If I repeat, I am sorry. If you figure out that I have repeated, you either are obsessed enough with me to have memorized the last list or you dug deep into my archives to find out.... Either way, please, seek help. Okay, here we go...



1) I perform Shakespeare and have been paid well for it. Yep. That's right. This fat guy actually has other talents besides his amazing writing and brilliant work in the sack.... Ok, that second part, not really true.... Well, I am not the worst.... I am quite sure of that.... Anyway.... I have done many shows over the last 15 years with the Southwest Shakespeare Company and played a wide variety of roles. I was most recently in "Much Ado About Nothing" in the Spring of '06. It was great. I have a thing for the language. I have a thing for the bawdiness. I love double entendre. I have always enjoyed the stage. Shakespeare just makes it that much better.

2) I have taught Desert Survival classes for Maricopa County Parks and Recreation. The evolution of how I got that gig is quite funny. In my early years of teaching, I got a summer teaching job doing Summer School for elementary school age kids. There were some remedial classes but for the most part there were fun classes. Gave the kids something to do during the summer. One of the classes I taught was Desert Survival. It was fascinating. The kids loved it. I loved it. One of the activities was to have a Park Ranger come in. On one of the Ranger visits, the ranger stayed and listened to some of my presentation. He asked if I would like to develop the curriculum for adults and teach some classes out at Usery Mountain park. I obliged. It was great.

3) When I was in 2nd Grade, I was dead sure that when I grew up, I was going to be an entomologist. Ok, first of all, what the Hell is that? Well, Mr/Ms Impatient Pants, I was getting to that... An entomologist is a scientist who studies bugs. I loved bugs, apparently. So much that I swore that I was going to study them my whole life. My folks even went so far as to get me my own professional dissecting kit so I could dissect bugs. Well, this was a patently bad idea as we soon found out when I was dissecting more toys than bugs and at least once or twice, the "probe" got stuck in a few compromising places.... Bad times..... Very bad times..... Needless to say, between the horrifying experiences with the "probe" and my lack of any type of interest in getting a science based degree, this dream eventually died.

4) My favorite actor of all time is Spencer Tracy. Hands down. Bar none. I should not have to explain or justify this. So, I won't.

5) I love to Downhill Ski. Now, dammit, get the image of the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man careening down a mountain side at 250 mph. It's not like that. Really. I am pretty good. As long as I stay within my comfort zone and not try any Black Diamonds. For me, the fun of skiing is the feel of the breeze on your face as you glide down a spectacular landscape. The occasional spill or two is bearable when you are with friends and the chair lift always has something in store for you. When I think back to all of the good times I have had in my life, several of the top 20 are ski trips.

6) I could live on Apple Jacks and Cheddar Cheese Pringles. This is not a joke, people. These two creations are the two, single most important creations that exist on this little blue and green ball that is the third rock from the sun. If they were not around, I am quite sure that I would not be either.

7) I once canoed 50 miles down the Colorado River. I am an Eagle Scout. For those of you not familiar, that is the highest rank one can achieve in Boy Scouts. I was very fortunate that I was in an amazing Troop. Troop 288. The biggest bunch of trouble making, noise making, risk taking, illegal activity participating group of guys you would ever want to meet but they all had hearts. The men and the boys. We did so many things and I conquered so many fears it was incredible. I learned so much. I also got to do things that many people never will. Catch and release a rattlesnake. Hike for miles and camp the way God intended it. No luxuries. No comforts. I also got to canoe down the Colorado River. With my father. It was indescribable. The scenery. The camaraderie. Just incredible.

Ok. There you go. Feel like you know me better? Feel closer to me? Feel afraid of me? I think you should....I am messed up.....

"Some Enchanted Evening..."

So, do you remember the song mentioned in the title? If you have seen the musical "South Pacific," you have heard the song. The other times you may have heard it was any time in a movie/T.V. show/cartoon that two people noticed each other across a crowded room. This song would start slowly in the background as the eyes of the star-crossed lovers would meet. It would then crescendo and come to a climax as the couple met somewhere in the middle of the room. They would embrace with eyes locked in a pathetic stare. It could be the first time they met or a reunion, of sorts. Either way, you have seen the scenario played out many times and more often than not, "Some Enchanted Evening" is the background. Surprisingly, this blog is not about that song. It's not even about music in general. It's about that moment. That amazing moment when you lock eyes with someone across a room and suddenly, you are filled with a feeling that you just know feels right. Yes, I am about to get kind of sappy. Yes, I am going to spend some time touching my feminine side....Wait.... That did not come out right..... Never mind. You get the picture. Well, I hope you don't really have a picture of me touching my feminine side in your head.... That could be scary..... Moving on.... I had one of those moments last night. It was one where perhaps I was the only one that was so moved by that brief yet amazing moment. Honestly, whether the other person felt anything at the very same moment is of no real consequence. It would be amazing if they felt the same way but for the purpose of this blog, just the fact that I felt this pure rush of amazing yummy goodness is what counts. Reason? It has been a looooooonnnnnnnggggg time. Honestly, I cannot remember the last time that I experienced such exhilaration from a look. From a simple glance that lasted a couple of extra seconds. It has been forever if it has been ever. I just sat there after the moment had passed thinking to myself, "Wow! I just experienced one of those moments they talk about in romance novels!" For my male readership, I do have to say I am sorry for the preceding diatribe that made me sound like a weepy chick. For the ladies.... Yeah, that's right, baby, there is a single guy out here who is into the "special" moments and he is looking for you....Well, I gotta tell ya, this past weekend was full of moments in which I experienced feelings that have been long absent from this old, fat guy's arsenal of emotions. It was refreshing, amazing, exciting and did I say amazing? Amazing. Amazing. What else can I say?

One of those days......

You know, it just started out wrong. I am talking about the day. I mean, here it is, 10:12am and I already know that I am not going to like this day. Why? What is it about this day that has made it bad before it really has gotten a chance get totally started? Nothing. That's right. Nothing at all. No major emergencies. No crises that needed attention. No happenings that made things go south quickly. I guess it has just been one of those days that I "woke up on the wrong side of the bed." What the Hell does that mean anyway? There is only one side of my bed that I can wake up on. Well, there are actually four sides to any bed that you can wake up on. There is only one that I would want to wake up on with my bed. I guess that is where the saying came from. The idea that if you woke up on a side, other than the one you are accustomed to, or the one that is the best to wake up on with the given circumstances you may not be very happy. I know that if I woke up anywhere but where I fell asleep, I would be worried. I share my bed with no one on a regular basis. The cat sometimes joins me but his tenure there is spotty and based on his playfulness level. Too playful, he is gone. Reason? If he is too playful I will inevitably end up with two very sharp fangs being sunk deeply into the cheek of my ass. Not fun at 3am. Trust me. The only other person that may sometimes end up there is Vivian. These rare occasions are usually short-lived. She does not like the way I snore. So, waking up on the wrong side of the bed is really not an option for me. I have but one side to wake up on. I think it is the fact that my phone has rung several times this morning from numbers that I do not recognize. I am one of those people that does not usually answer if I am not familiar with the number. I wait for a message. None of the unrecognized, ignored calls this morning on my phone left messages. That annoys the piss out of me. If you are a salesman, give me the courtesy of telling me this so I can ignore your phone number in the future. If you are a bill collector, you have the wrong number. If you are someone I know, leave a freaking message. How hard is that? I am not great at retuning calls but I do try.... This random number cell phone calling coupled with the fact that I know I have a bunch of crap to catch up on today being my only day off this week has just put me in a sour mood. Yes, I am wearing one of those saggy diapers that leak. Is there any cure? Any way to change my diaper? I can think of a few things but I am not going to hold my breath until they happen. I may be holding it for a looooonnnngggg time. I do feel better. I feel as though just by saying how grumpy I am, I am not as grumpy. That's pretty cool. Ah, the power of words.

Oh dear Lord... Not another music blog.....

Yes. In fact I am going to dedicate an entire blog to the subject of music. Why, oh, why? As I said in my previous blog.... My blog, my rules. You have a problem with it? Well, express it in the comments part at the end. I truly believe that there are few people in my vast readership that really don't like or at least somewhat agree with what I say about music. I am usually very positive and I can generally hit a nerve or two with many of you when it comes to music. This blog is going to probably hit more nerves among the parenting set but I think it may hit all of us that have parents, are parents or want to be parents. On Saturday night, I had a very rare opportunity to spend some quality time with the angel I call Vivian. The quality time is not what is so rare but rather the Saturday night time. In the restaurant business, Saturdays are busy days. No matter what capacity I am fulfilling at my current place of employ, I am rarely off on Saturday. There were extenuating circumstances that required me to be off this Saturday, so I was. I am so thankful that I was. After spending the day riding our bikes around Mesa (going down "The Hill" between Stapley and Horne on McKellips, you know the one, and shouting "THAT WAS TOTALLY WICKED!!!" at the tops of our lungs at exactly the same time), we got home and relaxed for a bit until it was time to gorge ourselves on pasta, pizza and that cinnamon thing at Cici's pizza. After walking off dinner through the neighborhood it was bath time and then the all important wind down hour. Vivian chose to watch the Zoey 101 scary Halloween movie which I chose to ignore. She soon realized that it was a bit to scary for her tastes and her attention turned to what I was writing about. It happened to be about her and the song "Unwritten." This prompted me to play it a few times as we danced and sang in our usual manner when this song plays. She then wanted to hear other songs and none of them grabbed her attention as much as "L-O-V-E" by Nat King Cole. I am not sure what it was about this song but there I was, dancing away with her to it several times. Well, she wanted to crank things up a bit so she asked if "I Like to Move It" (the Madagascar version by Sascha Baron Cohen which is the superior version) was on my play list. Sadly, it was not. I soon remedied this and we shook our tail feathers until well after 10pm. Then it was time to wind down so we listened to "Butterfly Kisses" (on my other play list thanks to a very special friend) and "Love Without End, Amen." I cried. She wiped my tears and comforted me. As I was tucking her and Hunter (the cat) in, I thought about how important these moments are. Even more, how important the music that accompanied these moments was. Forever, from now on, she will attach these songs to memories of me. No matter what happens to me. No matter what happens in our relationship. These songs will always bring a good memory of me to her. How amazing is that to think? Forever. That is a mighty long time. I added two songs to my main play list tonight. One is an incomplete version of a song that brings a flood of tears to my eyes whenever I hear even part of it. That's why I am okay with it's incompleteness. It's "The Perfect Fan" by the Backstreet Boys. It reminds me of all of the wonderful things that my mother has done for me and reminds me that she will always be my number one fan. The other song is one by Louis Prima and Keely Smith. My father tells me the whole story of Louis and Keely every single time he hears one of their songs and I am near. I also get the story if he happens to hear about The Jungle Book from myself or Vivian because Louis was the voice of King Louie, the orangutan. These songs are precious to me because of my parents. The songs that are precious to Vivian, I hope, are because of me. Need any other reason to put a soundtrack to your life? Try it.

The Green Monster.....

Slow down, there, BoSox fans. I am not referring to the left field wall at Fenway. This will not be a blog about Big Papi or Manny. Although, with what's happening to my D'backs..... No! I will not go there. I promised myself I wouldn't. This is not going to be a discussion on baseball. It's about the other green monster. The one that has ruined relationships. Many of them before they even had a chance to begin. The green monster that is so pervasive, it is found in almost every home. The green monster that can start a war and keep it from ever ending. Jealousy, people. Plain and simple. Jealousy. Now I know what you are thinking. What could a single guy who is not in a relationship have to say about jealousy in a time when he should not be experiencing it? Funny you should ask. The answer is 2-fold. First, jealousy is not reserved for relationships. It creeps into every aspect of our lives whether we like it or not so if I want to write about it, I can. My blog, my rules. ( I am focusing on the relationship aspect of jealousy but that is neither here nor there) The second reason is that twice today the topic was brought up in conversations so I felt that was what I needed to talk about. The first conversation involved a young lady I work who I will call "Jen." Aw crap, sorry Jennifer. I used your real name....I'll move on. Jennifer was regaling a few of us male co-workers with a story involving her boyfriend and 3 other guys who were "checking her out." She thought that the guys checking her out were rude and that her boyfriend should have been upset by their brash attempts at stealing her away from her large and obviously "with her" boyfriend. Apparently, according to her he got upset, but did nothing to stop them. Now guys, we know better, right? He was not really upset, right? He just acted upset for her benefit. Deep inside, he was thinking what we all think when other dudes check out our hot ladies...."Yeah, that's right, she's with me! Sucker!" Seriously ladies, this is not what makes us jealous. My ex-wife tried one time to get some sort of reaction out of me by telling me that some stranger had randomly approached her in the parking lot of our local Fry's grocery store to tell her how beautiful she was. Was I supposed to get upset by this? Was I supposed to take it as a hint that I was not saying she was beautiful enough? I am not quite sure. Never will know. Don't care. To me, that is a game. I don't like those kind of games. I have always viewed myself as a relatively non-jealous type. I am proud of the girls that I am with at the time and would not find it necessary to get protective. They are with me. If they want someone else, good riddance. Nothing I can do. You can't stop the love, baby. So, when it comes to this kind of jealousy I think men and women have different views. They will always be different. Mars and Venus and all of that crap. The second conversation I had was with my good friend, I will call her "Wendy," crap I did it again, I am not very good at this, and we were chatting about jealousy vs. insecurity. Is there a difference? Does one cause the other? If you are insecure in yourself or your relationship, are you more likely to be jealous? Does jealousy lead to insecurity? As i am writing these questions I am starting to realize that we are going into a chicken/egg situation. You know what I mean. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? We will never know the answer to this question. Will we ever know the answer to the jealousy/insecurity question? I doubt it. What I do know is that insecurity is something that can be improved or removed. It just takes some work. More often than not, the kind of work it takes requires serious introspection and hard decisions. Sometimes, we are not willing to do these things but if we are going to defeat the Green Monster, we are going to have to.

Hmmmmm....Tastes like chicken.......

Okay, let's get our minds out of the gutter with the title, people. For those of you who are reading this because of the catchy and suggestive title, shame on you. You will be disappointed that this is not an R-rated blog. Those of you reading this because you truly enjoy reading this author's words no matter what the title is, thank you. Now, on to the subject. "So close you can almost taste it." A simple line from a great song. I know that it is a saying that has been around for many years but it has gained a resurgence in popularity since the great song, "Unwritten." Yes, I know it is a "chick" song. Yes, I know that I am essentially emasculating myself by admitting that I listen to the song frequently enough to be inspired by one of it's lines but I will tell you this.... I listen because Vivian loves the song (I do too, but I am not going to admit it to you....crap, I just did......maybe they are just skimming and they missed it.....just go on....act naturally......). Vivian loves the fact that this song is on my play list. Whenever Daddy is writing the song almost always comes on. It does not matter where she is in the house, she comes running and we dance and sing the song like there was no tomorrow. That is why I know it so well. That's why the line about being able to taste something that is so close is the topic of this blog. Ever experienced this feeling? I am sure the saying got it's origins in the times when there were wide open spaces and folks would be cooking out all of the time. You would be on your way to said cookout and as you would approach, you could taste the food as it was being prepared even if you could not see the cooking taking place....The smell would waft through the air for miles... It would make you salivate. Your stomach would growl. You would greedily lick your lips. You could not wait until you got there. The trip could not take any longer. I think this happens literally and figuratively. Just like my blog about anticipation this one is about wanting something. Only this time instead of waiting for it, it's here and I can't have it. Like the pie that Grandma baked in the other blog....Only this time, you can't eat it. It's for company. It would be like the Spider-Man decoder ring arriving but you can't have it until your birthday. This is the "so close you can almost taste it" stuff I am talking about. I gotta tell ya, I have a great taste in my mouth right now. Too bad I am so close, yet so far. Close, apparently, only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. So I have been told. I think it counts in my present situation, too. I am close, I can taste it, I am okay with that. At least I got to taste. Some folks never will. Sucks to be them!

Tears of a Clown....

For the most part, I find it easy to be funny. Those of you who know me well, know that even in the face of most serious situations, I am not above making a joke. Those of you who do not know me, except by what you read in my little online diary we call a blog, I think that you may be able to tell that I am a funny guy. With all of this in mind, I must now apologize for the tone of this blog. At the present time I am not happy. Normally, I can muddle my way through an unhappy moment. I can usually find strength in humor. Some call it a mask, I call it strength. Whichever way you look at it, in times of stress or anger, I can be pretty funny. I am not too sure about finding humor when I am experiencing anguish, though. I have rarely dealt with complete devastation. I know that I have dealt with it, but I don't remember if I was able to laugh about it at the time. What I do know is that right now I am devastated. Completely. I also know that I am not laughing. I cannot even comprehend laughter right now. So..... What has me devastated? You will not believe what I am about to say, but.... I can't tell you. This is not a joke. I am not smiling grimly, thinking about the times before that I have set you up only to make you fall. I truly cannot discuss the issue that has me weeping as I type this. As I have done before, I will try to share some of what it is without revealing too much. I was told a secret. I can assure you that this was not a school girl (Bobby likes you...No WAY!!!!.... Yes WAY!!!! He told me at recess!!!!!) kind of secret. It was not an "I am not wearing any underwear" kind of secret either. This one was big. The kind of secret that, after it sinks in, you think to yourself, "Now why the fuck did you tell me that?" I am sorry for the language, but remember, I am not happy. No, I did not learn that my buddy is fooling around on his girlfriend with her best friend. I could only wish it was that. No, I did not learn the season finale to Heroes (that's a popular show, right?). I learned that a very close fiend of mine is in serious trouble. The kind of trouble that you cannot get away from without a few scars. He already has too many scars. Trust me, he's got plenty. He does not need any more. No, it is not a legal issue. No, it is not a murder that I am covering up. No crimes were committed, with the exception of the few public disturbance calls that will be made when I am done writing and am outside screaming at the top of my lungs to make the pain go away. Truth be told, the secret is one that I never wanted to hear. I am glad I did because it helped him to tell SOMEONE. He has been unable to tell anyone else. He chose me. For that, I am honored. Also, for that reason, I am going to kick his ass. Tomorrow, there will be a part two to this secret. There is a slight chance that it will make things better. It will make the secret one that is not so bad to know. This is what I am hoping for. I hope that part two will be a good secret. I am praying for it. Please join me in this. Just tell God that you read my blog and I told you to pray for a friend of mine. He'll know what you are talking about. He's been briefed.

I hate bees...... I really do......

We all have fears. I am no exception. If you read the survey that is poSted on my MySpace profile, you will read that my two biggest fears are bees and relationships. The latter is, what I believe to be, pretty self-explanatory. Ther are a number of relationships in my past that I have screwed up and even more that have screwed me up so therefore, I prefer to stay away from them if at all possible. The former should be self-explanatory as well. The thing of it is, where did this bee fear come from? I guess it is normal for people who are allergic or have past experiences with stinging, flying insects to develop a natural fear but I have neither. That I know of. I have been told that I have been stung before but I don't recall. As long as I can remember, my reaction to bees has been one that resembles a little girl running and screaming from a big scary monster. I never thought that I waited around long enough to have an experience with one. Until today. I have little time to write today on this subject so I have no time for any set-up but here is the deal. I was in Maricopa, sorting through some dumped objects, bent over, in a pair of shorts that tend to give me a mad case of plumber-butt. In addition, I was going commando (which is not too uncommon). A bee found her way into said shorts and immediately began struggling to escape. Not knowing what had flown down my crack I immediately swatted in the general vicinity and landed right on top of the unsuspecting, panicked bee with my large hand. She did all she could to defend herself by inserting her stinger into a very private place. No, not the VERY private place. Close enough, though. I am hurting. It's still throbbing. I hate bees. I really do.

"Ooooo...Owww...Ouch... I hate when I do that...." - Willie

I love my blog titles. They are very often loaded with double meanings. Sometimes they are pretty straight-forward. If there is a double-meaning you can still enjoy the humor or the relation to the actual blog. Other times, they require some explanation. Like this blog's title. I am certain that many of you are wondering who the Hell Willie is and why I am quoting him. How is this quote from some strangely named person germane to one of this writer's amazing blogs? I shall reveal in good time. You will see how the title fits with what I am discussing tonight. I will need to explain who Willie is. He is a character that Billy Crystal used to do on Saturday Night Live. Am I dating myself by talking about Billy Crystal on Saturday Night Live? Oh well, screw it. This is not about Willie. It's about Billy. You still with me? I love Billy Crystal. I always have. He is great. The best thing about him in everything he does is his delivery. Certain lines. The way they are said. He has an everyman quality that you can just relate to. In the movie "When Harry Met Sally" he delivered a line that has stuck with me over the years. He was talking about something his ex-wife said. When he was describing what she said he said that it had one of those "cartoon balloons" around the words. Making the words just hang there. Giving them a physical presence. So, my point is, has this ever happened to you? Ever said something that you could almost see the words above you in a "cartoon balloon?" Now, have those words ever been so bad that you wanted nothing more than to take them back? You wanted to just reach up and tear the words up into a million tiny pieces. I have. Very recently. I said something that I wish a cartoon balloon was attached to. Something that I wanted to rip up and act like I never said. No cartoon bubble, though. See where I am going with this? See how the title fits? I knew you would. It was one of those moments that wished that there was a big remote control in the sky that would allow me to hit the rewind button. Well, I am pretty sure there is a remote control like that. Think about it. When someone is born, that means the Big Guy pressed play. When someone dies, He pressed stop. When someone does cocaine, he pressed fast forward. Well, not just then. The FF button is also for when we try to do too much in not enough time. I have essentially seen these three buttons at work. Rewind is a little tougher. We try to rewind all of the time. We recreate scenes. We re-live the past. We try to remember the way things were. This is not the rewind button at work though. I believe, no, I hope the rewind button works in a different way. I hope that if you and the person you said the thing that you wish you didn't to both reach up and hit that button with the Big Guy, that you can actually rewind and redo that very moment. Thereby, removing the words as though they never happened. I truly believe that you both have to do it at the same time though. If you said something to a bunch of people, you all have to do it together. Either way, it has to be those involved and Him in order for it to be done right. I have my hand on the button. I know He does. I just hope and pray that her hand will be there soon and we can push it and we can start over from that moment. So, what did I say that was so terrible? What could I have said that would make me so desperate to take it back? Yeah, right. I'm gonna tell you.... Y'all know me well enough to know that was coming, right? I will tell you what I am comfortable with sharing, though. What I asked this person to do was like asking a fish to live without water. Like asking a child to live without toys. Like asking Sonny to live without Cher......Wait, scratch that one....He's dead and she never liked him anyway......The first two, though, you wouldn't do, right? I suppose you could. You could take all of a kids toys away and say, "No more," save the occasional free toy in the cereal box or Happy Meal. Would the kid die? Probably not. He/she would adjust. Find a new way to entertain themselves. Kids are resourceful. More importantly, they are resilient. They would be okay. You still wouldn't do it, though. Would you? How about the fish and the water thing? That seems a little more extreme and a little more impossible to do, right? Wrong. If evolution has taught us anything, we now know that all living things can find a way. Life finds a way. Heard of a lungfish? It's a fish that lives in Africa, Asia and Australia. It can burrow down into the ground just before the dry season and go into a catatonic state, encased in mud and live. Live long enough to see the next rainy season. It can do this all through it's life cycle. So, yes there is a fish that can live without water. Just one kind, though. Obviously it's not the best way to live. That's why all other fish need water. It makes life easier for them. The point is, yes, people can change. They can evolve. They can adjust. They can deal. We will always be able to. What I did, though, was ask someone to do that when I had no right to. I asked her to adjust. Evolve. Move on. Deal. I did not want that. I do not want that. I cannot live with that. I will not live with that. I should have never asked. I want to rewind. Join me in praying that it will happen. Join me in hoping that she knows that I need to rewind so that I can say what I really meant. Join me in wishing that the button will work. I hope I have tied the title together with the story enough. I know that Willie was saying, "Ooooo, Ow, Ouch," about when he threw his legs up over his head and shaved the backs of them with a cheese grater and then squatted in a bowl of gin but we are both talking about pain. Serious pain. Pain that we hope will go away.