Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum.....

Just listening to my my play list and wandering around the house with a pen in my hand as a microphone, singing along with all of the different songs..... Am I admitting this?....... No, I am making it up....... Or am I?.... Either way, play list is going and my Christmas Song, "Do They Know It's Christmastime?" comes on and gets me all weepy. Not hard to do these days, btw, but nonetheless, I got to thinking. As I do this time of year. For being such a Bah Humbug most of the time I sure do spend a lot of time worrying about everyone else at Christmas. The homeless. The poor. The working poor. Those in other countries where the Third World is their world. Maybe that is why I have become so cynical. Seems like every year, for every tear-inspiring good story, there are 1000 stories that break you down. You just get so tired of hearing about of all of the sadness and hate and terror and deprivation this time of year. All of that bad stuff right along side all of these mirth masters trying to tell you how wonderful things are this time of year. Sales up 30% over last year! Little 11 year old boy inspires 2000 people to feed the homeless. 9 year old girl provides bikes for 150 school mates. Talk about your brain freeze. Which way to go? Scrooge or Santa? Christ or Satan? Buddha or Blah? I sure as Hell don't know what y'all are gonna do but I am choosing the Happy side this year. I will be making a concerted effort to shed my Bah Humbug reputation and bring about a little Peace On Earth this year. I owe it to my family. I owe it to my kid. I owe it to my friends. Most of all, I owe it to me. Being a Gloomy Gus every year as long as I can remember has gotten me nowhere. In fact, it may have helped lead me to recent hopelessness and anger. Try something different this year. That might be the answer. Remember, the very definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results. I know I am insane. Just don't hafta be all of the time. Maybe this time of year is a good time for all of us to put away the insane thinking we maybe do all year long and start some sane rational localized thinking that will keep the time of year in perspective. Kinda like the Little Drummer Boy. "Shall I play for him?" Hey, it's all he had. He did what he could in his little world and Jesus freakin' smiled. Hours old and Jesus smiled at the Boy. Amazing stuff, eh? I meant how I tied the title in....... Heh heh.......

I May Be Rancid Butter....

I was given a great big ol' slap in the face today. A good kind of slap. So, maybe not a face slap, more like a back slap...... or ass slap..... mmmmmmm ass slap........ Anywho....... My good friend Jeff sent me a response to an apology that I had recently written to him. At the top of the note from him, in quotes, was one of my favorite sayings from one of my favorite movies. It was a line spoken brilliantly by Gene Kelly, playing the role of E.K. Hornbeck in "Inherit the Wind." The quote was spoken to the two young lovers, one of whom was the defendant in the Scopes Monkey Trial, as they questioned Hornbeck's sincerity. He plastered on a cocky grin and said, "I may be rancid butter, but I'm on your side of the bread." What the Hell is that supposed to mean? Who wants rancid butter on their bread? Wouldn't you rather have no butter at all than rancid butter? Ask the kids from the book "Lord of the Flies." You know, the book where the kids are stranded on an island without ANY adults around. Party, right? Read the book? Go read it. Tell me if they would like the rancid butter or no butter at all. Ask my mother who 24 hours ago was looking at a Thanksgiving with just the Old One, Vivian and myself. Now, in less than one day, she gets to spend it with both of her sons, all four of her grand babies and her daughter-in-law. Shitload of extra work around the house to do. More cleaning. More planning. More food. You think she gives two shits? Rancid butter, baby. She'll take it over no butter at all. The last example I will give is the hardest for me to admit to but it is a great one. My baby girl. She does not have Daddy around like most of her friends. Only gets to see him when it's "his turn" with her. No kid LIKES that situation. I have to say though, she has a helluva step-daddy around to help ease the pain. Phillip is a good man. He loves her. He can never replace me. He WILL never replace me. He does not try to replace me. He just does an amaZing job as a step-dad. For that I am grateful. It is with this gratitude that I have to apologize for calling him rancid butter, but I am sure he'll understand the point. She could have done a lot worse. She could not have done any better. Better having him than not having him at all. Rancid butter. Do you get it yet? Are ya feelin' me? I am fairly sure that it was in this tone that Jeff included the quote in his note. I think he was calling me rancid butter. A well-deserved moniker. At least, lately. I had allowed so many things to go wrong around me that I stopped being the good friend that so many of my old friends remember. I am still a friend to these people. If they will still have me. Jeff has said he will. For this, I am eternally grateful. Working on me is going to be the most challenging obstacle I will have faced in 35 years but I have to do it. I am glad to know that on the other side of the work, there will be open arms waiting to tell me how great of a job I did. I am sure of this. I have some great friends and you all know who you are. If I tried to start naming you all, I know I would forget one, and then they would get all pissy and shit, and then I would get a nasty response, and then I would..... Oh.... Sorry. Suffice it to say, I have been blessed and you ALL KNOW WHO YOU ARE. Thank you. From the bottom of my big heart that just closed up for a bit. Thank you, Jeff, for the inspiration. I'll take it any day. Mad props for tossing one of my sayings right back at me, bro. Much Love. Peace. Have a great Turkey Day and all that other crap.

Oh Man.... Am I Turning Into One Of Them?

I have done something tonight that I am not proud of...... I have committed a personal travesty that I am not sure I will ever recover from...... I have submitted..... I have succumbed...... to putting Christmas music on my play list before Thanksgiving.......... I am not quite sure that I am going to get past this. I am the one screaming at the advertisers who shove Christmas down our throats before Halloween. I am the guy mumbling and moaning when I go to the stores and see the Christmas crap out before the Halloween shit is even put away. That grinds my gears. It really, really, really, really, really does, people. Y'all have no idea. It is as a result of this disdain and animosity that I rarely acknowledge the Holidays until Grandma and Papa's house gets totally decorated by Mom and Vivian. This year though, in the midst of all that has happened with me I really felt as though I could sneak them in. My two Christmas songs, I mean. There are truly only 2 Christmas songs that I will listen to with any fervor. They are "Do They Know It's Christmas?" by Band-Aid and "Little Drummer Boy" by Jars of Clay. Only two. Not saying I HATE every other Christmas song. You MAY catch me humming something now and again but I gotta tell ya folks, these two songs and that's it for me to full on tolerate. So, I guess I stand here folks, with only myself to apologize to but I will extend the apology to any of you who are as adamant as myself. It won't happen again. Just needed a little early "Christmas Spirit."

Just some rambling about humor, Davy Jones, and viewing the world......

Not feeling a lot like I HAVE to or even WANT to do this blog today but for some reason here I am typing away and trying very hard to figure out exactly how I am going to tie all three topics in my title together. By now, be you an avid reader, you know that most of my titles are formed long before the blog is even complete in this rattled brain of mine so they become this constant battle of me staying on topic so please bear in mind that this one is not only NOT one that I am real excited about yet (which could change) but that it is also before 7am so..... well.... here it goes...... I have a helluva a sense of humor. This I know. Not just from being told. I just know because I am a fucking funny guy. I can take a story that would seem dull and uninteresting if told by most and make it into a 20 minute monologue complete with impersonations and sound effects. I can have a roomful of cloistered nuns peeing their pants and laughing their vow of silenced asses off about some of my drinking day stories. I managed several years of teaching to 12-17 year old students that voted me funniest teacher every year and that was not just because I was the only one willing from the secondary level willing to go into the Dunk Tank on Sequoia Days. I am funny. Dammit. I am fuckin' hilarious. I just learned that this quality of mine has screwed up more than most of the relationships that I have had with other people for years. Figure that one, eh? The funny guy gets the bad rap for being funny. Think about it, though. I did. Nothing wrong with being funny, as a rule. Especially if it is more self-effacing and less insulting. Truth is. We need humor. We just don't need charming, funny, cute, self-effacing fat guys like me who use it to attract people only to keep them as far away as possible. Why not? Remember Jim Belushi? Chris Farley? By all accounts of close friends and family this is exactly what these guys were! They self-destructed as a result. I almost did, too. I am one of the lucky ones. I now know this. I now need to find ways to better use and direct my humor. Not lose it. Please, God, NO!!!!! Just use it more wisely and in ways that attract rather than promote. I have managed (barely) to keep a few close friends over the years and I swear if there was any way to get these guys together on December 6th I would make them go to the Davy Jones concert with me. Yes, I am going to see an aging rock star from a band that was never really known for putting out incredible stuff but there were at least 5 13-14 year olds in the 80's who thought they did and would dig the show together. Oh well. I can dream right. Well, Sean, Jeff, Owen and Brian, if you wanna go, let me know. I will grab ya tickets. I guess the point of all of this is that I need to start being less global in my view of the world. I need to stay local. Worry about making me happy. Not the world. There is nothing more sad than a sad clown. I gotta be happy. I gotta be me, but I gotta be happy.

"I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy." - Ogden Nash

I think I am approaching some kind of record, but this is in fact the third blog I have written since this morning. It may be boredom. It may be a lot on my mind. It may be how shitty I have felt today. Couldn't even make it to the movie with Grandma and V today. I am afraid my Gall Bladder has got to go. Which, of course, means more hospital time. Which, of course, means more poking, probing, and groping which I usually like but not when it's done with needles, scalpels and cold instruments..... Well, the cold instruments can be fun...... Anywho, I will be honest with you, all of the pain and torment I have been going through as a result of this crap has caused me to reflect on my drinking days. So much damage done to my body. So much damage to my life..... So much damage done to my brain.... It boggles the mind what alcohol does to you. I told you about Jack-Jack. Never got the chance to tell you about Super Dave. Another case like Jack-Jack, just a few more years drinking and a harder time standing. I don't think I saw him walk until the last day of his detox. You know, as I sit here writing about this stuff, I realize so clearly that it is not the physical shit that goes along with alcohol that is so fucking bad. It's not!!!!! It's the damage in your head. The constant want and need for a drink. Or if you are a crack addict, the need and want for that..... Or if you are a gambler.... Or if you are a sex addict..... You literally have NO control over the impulses. If I did not have AA in my life right now, if I didn't have someone to call instead of of going out for that drink, I'd be drinking. I need a drink so bad right now it's not even funny. I am calling my temporary sponsor as I am writing this right now. I have to. If I don't, I'm drinking. If I'm drinking, I'm dying. Good song just popped up on my play list. "The Reason" by Hoobastank. There are those who say we should be our own reasons to change. Sometimes we don't like ourselves to make any changes so it's a damn good reason we have people to change for. I have 3 reasons to change. 1 of them is 7 and doesn't fully understand Daddy's problem, although it has been explained as best as I could. The other 2 know they are reasons. Just hope they get it.

Ya know, some days are just better than others....

I keep getting told that I will get through this. I am constantly reminded that it's a lot of work. I am reminded daily that once I am better, things will get better with all of the other people in my life. Today is one of those days that I just have a real hard time believing all of that. Have my little girl with me today. Even reached out to someone for some help. Someone who was part of my wreckage and they helped. Went to a great AA meeting. Going to the movies. Madagascar 2. So why am I crying? It's so damn hard to type right now. I can't even see the keyboard. I know that this is supposed to have something to do with my condition. Chemical imbalance and all. Just doesn't seem fair. Doesn't seem right that when things are all lined up, there always has to be that one thing that won't line up. It becomes an obsession. Much like the obsession of the alcoholic who wants to be able to drink like his fellow man. The Bi-Polar just wants to have a normal day. No medication. No ups and down. No uncontrolled crying over iCarly episodes. Then you add this damn music play list and I cannot keep it together. I guess the crying is supposed to be okay. In the loony bin, I had a Therapist, Lisa, who pointed out that, "...we have tear ducts for a reason..." Thanks, Lisa, but I think you can take your tear ducts and shove them up your ass. I am tired. Tired of crying. Tired of regretting. Tired of apologizing. Tired of missing someone. Tired of explaining. Tired of begging. Tired of being tired. In AA, we say that when someone has finally hit their bottom, they are sick and tired of being sick and tired. Well, I bottomed out a while ago and I am still sick and tired. I am not sick now, though. I am just tired. I want to be honest with you folks, because it has to happen for me to try to heal but I don't know that I have enough left to keep it up. Is this a cry for help? I, sure as Hell, hope not. Am I just venting? I, sure as Hell, hope so. Whatever it is, I know that I am going to need a new keyboard VERY soon. I am drenching this one. Especially since 3 am just came on. I'm sorry to sound so fucking weepy. I know that there are those who see it as a sign of weakness. In a way, I agree. I am weak. Takes a man to admit that, though. These fuckers out there who puff out their chests and try to convince themselves they have it together when they can't even keep their lives in order sicken me. Ooooooooo. That just made me smile knowing I know someone like that who is the biggest LOSER I know (that was the comment he left on my blog a few weeks ago so I am publicly returning the favor). Takes a REAL man to anonymously insult someone who just got out of a mental health facility. Not saying I know who it was but I sure hope they read this. Boy, do I ever. Oh man..... I feel better already. I am sure the tears will continue today but at least I can bring a smile back each time I think of this guy standing at the top of his own little hill...... all by himself.

...And I Would Have Gotten Away With It If It Wasn't For You Darn Kids...

I am sure all of you readers remember the episodes of Scooby-Doo that we used to watch after school. It always ended with the gang catching the bad guy and he would inevitably utter the words in the title. Well, the title for this blog is not directed towards that gang (mmmmmmmm Daphne). The title here actually refers to one kid. My kid. I know that somewhere in the back of my disturbed and rattled and confused brain, one of the main reasons I am here is because of my beautiful baby girl Vivian. Since the two attempts on my life, my time spent with her has been SO amaZing. She is getting so big. She is growing up so fast right in front of my very eyes. I don't like it one bit. Sort of. On one hand, it is awesome seeing this little girl turn into a little person knowing that in just a few short years, she will turn into a full grown woman. On her own and taking over the world. On the other hand, she is also going from this little girl who thought I hung the starts and the moon to this mouthy, independent, head-strong, snot-ball and she will soon become a terrible teen and then who knows what from there. The dichotomy is astounding. No matter what, I am going to love her. I know unconditional love between parents and children. I have experienced it from mine. Instead of turning their backs on me on MORE than one occasion when they could and should have, they chose to love me and make make sure I knew they did. Especially with my recent attempts. A lot of parents would say, "Well, you gave up on you. Why shouldn't we?" Not mine. Mine were at the loony bin every day. Whether I wanted them to be or not. The old man even endured 2 family counseling sessions which I am sure he only heard about 1/4 of but he was there. Grandma couldn't make to the second one as she was in Canada with another family member who has NEVER flinched in her support, my Aunt Nancy. Add in my brother Chris, my half-brother Donny, my friends Todd and Brian and Layne, and you have a group of DARN kids that are among the other reasons I am here. I have received a great deal of support from many friends of old who have not seen what has happened to me in recent years. How my sobriety affected me in negative ways because I never followed the AA program the way it was intended, thus leading to the manifestation of other negative behaviors borne of Bi-Polar II disorder and a serious case of narcissism. No matter, they still sent their well wishes and they were amaZing. It is what is keeping me going. For those of you who I did hurt recently, I am officially asking for forgiveness. I am not asking you to play with me again. There are plenty of sandboxes out there for us to play in. I just want to know that you understand my intention came from a good place. Unfortunately, the road to Hell is truly paved with good intentions. I do not know what the future holds for Vivian. For me. For any of us. All we can do, in the immortal words of Elton John, from the song Empty Garden (on my play list btw), "...who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop."

P.S. Back into the meeting rooms of AA again. Just got my 30 day chip. If I can keep some continuous SOBRIETY, the 30 day chip belongs to Vivian. My 24 hour chip is reserved. That person will get it when they least expect it. I know that we are supposed to hold onto these if we feel we need to as a reminder. I will be getting so many more chips in the future, I want the first 2 most important 2 to go to the 2 most important people in my life. Just wanted y'all to know this tidbit of info. I am back in the rooms and doing the steps right this time. I feel better, too!!!

WARNING!!! WARNING!!!!! I MEAN THIS FROM A SPECIAL PLACE!!!!

To my readers....

I love you. All of you. Even the haters. It is with this love that I find it necessary now to give out this fair warning. If you should decide to go to the movies sometime in the near future, and you should choose to see "Zach and Miri Make a Porno," please, for the love of God and all that is Holy, do not see this movie sitting next to your parents. This especially goes for those whose parents are above the age of 60. They get the humor. They are not unfamiliar with anal sex and full frontal male nudity. It is just not RIGHT sitting next to your mother as these items are being discussed and presented. There is nothing natural about this. It is just not a pleasant place to be. Please heed this warning. Please believe me. Just DON'T DO IT!!!!!!!!!!