The Hospitality Industry?

Last Saturday I was sitting around the house and reminiscing about old times. Some years back I use to live in Winston-Salem, NC, and at that time worked at a Hampton Inn. First as a desk clerk, then night auditor and eventually I made it up to the position of Assistant General Manager. At the time I was trying to find my niche in the hospitality industry, and had hopes of going far in my career. I was in my early 20’s and was already the #2 man on the property. My tenure there, however, wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be.

During that two year period, I was working 70+ hour weeks and since I was salary and not hourly, I didn’t get overtime, so my pay was very little. Also one Sunday evening, as I sat behind the desk alone, a man came in. As I stood up to offer assistance, he said he only needed to use the bathroom, so I sat back down. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I see him coming up behind me so I stood back up. I remember his exact words of, “This is a robbery, give me the money!” My initial thought was that I was bigger than he was, but then I looked down to see a very large hunting knife in his right hand with it pointing at me. I turned around, opened up the money drawer, and handed him all of the cash. I asked him if he wanted the change too, and he responded, “Only the green!” Upon completion of the deed, he ran out of the lobby shouting, “Don’t call the police!”

I wasn’t so much scared as I was angry. Angry that some son-of-a-bitch robbed me! Angry that I wasn’t able to stop him! Angry that I felt vulnerable and alone! So I punched the wall before calling my manager and the police.

That night I went to the police station and thumbed through several stacks of mug shots. There were hundreds of them, and they all started looking alike. I do remember that he looked like a guy that use to work at the hotel, and that would make sense in knowing when the least amount of people were working, and only 30 minutes before security showed up, but I wasn’t totally 100% sure and didn’t want to accuse the wrong person, so I said nothing to that effect. This crime went unsolved.

Within a year I was fired from that job. Not for theft or underperformance, but because I had been hospitalized for a week and tried to file it on my medical insurance. Once I had been promoted to Assistant General Manager, the owner of the hotel said I was added to the company’s group medical insurance policy. This was a lie, and it all came out when the hospital tried to collect. I know there are laws against this type of behavior, and I did seek the assistance of an attorney, but knowing and proving are two separate things.

My ordeal convinced me that I was done with the hospitality industry, so I moved back to Asheville and went back to college.

Two weeks after Ike...

Two weeks after Hurricane Ike battered Galveston, we here in the Southeast are still feeling the effects. I took the photo above the day after Ike slammed the Gulf Coast and closed down some oil refineries, but not much has changed since then.

The other day I went out in search of a gas for the Jeep, and what I found was station after station completely out. By this time, the gas light was on and I was starting to feel a bit paranoid about even making it home before running dry. As luck would have it, as I passed a station, I looked over and saw a tanker truck sitting there. I quickly pulled into the station and was one of 4 cars already in place in anticipation of finally getting some relief.

I went inside and there was already a short line of people inquiring when we might be able to fill up, and we were told that it would be about 30 minutes. No problem for me, as I didn't have any where else I needed to be.

As I sat in the Jeep and waited, it seemed that word got out and suddenly cars were streaming in like it was a rock concert. Eventually several police cars showed up to direct traffic and to keep the peace. For awhile I stood outside and talked to several people in my immediate vicinity. The girl and her boyfriend next to me with their two dogs, the woman behind me with her daughter, all of us had something in common for that short period of time. Eventually the gas started flowing and the conversations stopped.

My Jeep has a 22 gallon tank, and it took 21.257 gallons to fill it up at a cost of just over $85. I knew eventually they would start rationing the amount of gas each of us could get, so I was happy to be first in line. Since then, the station has once again run out of gas. I hear there's relief in sight, but for now, I sit at home and conserve where I can.

Life, love, and the pursuit of...well, you know how the story goes...

Today I ran across an article on Yahoo that explained a lot to me about dating and why women tend to go for the jerks instead of the nice guys. I'll explain more about why it interested me so much after you have a chance to read the article. So, without further ado:

"Dating Secret Exposed: Why Nice Guys Finish Last

By April Masini Special to Yahoo! Personals Updated: Jun 20, 2008

Are you a nice guy who has always wondered why the cocky guy -- the one who barely appears interested in the girl -- is usually the one who gets the girl?

Have you suffered from hearing the words, "You're a really nice guy, but I only like you as a friend," from a woman who you would do (or may, in fact, have already done) just about anything and everything for -- only to turn around and watch her date (or even chase) a guy who treats her like she's nothing special? And are you stumped wondering why she would date a guy who treats her like that when she could have you who would treat her like a princess and give her everything she wants? Well, you better brace yourself because I'm going to tell you a couple of secrets that you might not want to hear.

First, "nice" equates with boring and predictable. Look up "nice" in the dictionary and you find: pleasant; agreeable; satisfactory. In other words, average -- not exceptional, not exciting, and not sexy. I’ll bet you've never heard a woman say she didn't want to date a guy because he was too confident, too passionate, or too exciting -- have you? But, I'll bet you have heard women say things like, "He's such a nice guy. He's so sweet and he's always there for me, but I only like him as a friend." Or, "He's such a good guy -- kind, thoughtful, generous, honest, loyal -- but there's no chemistry. He just doesn't turn me on." Sadly, I hear it all the time. The fact is, Mr. Nice Guy, you cannot bore a woman into feeling attracted to you or into wanting to date you. And as obvious as that sounds, if you are one of those guys I described that is exactly what you are trying to do. And it won't work.

Please understand that I am not suggesting that you mistreat women or disrespect them in any way. What I suggesting is that you value and respect yourself more.

To illustrate what I mean: The answer to the question, "Why does the guy who doesn't appear to care as much about the girl get the girl?" is simple: The nice guy cares too much, too soon. He has made the woman too important and too valuable and it shows in everything he says and does. He is too available, too eager to please, too accommodating, and he gives too much -- all without getting anything in return. By doing so, he has made himself appear desperate, insecure, needy of this woman's attention, affection, and approval -- and he has stripped himself of any value in her eyes. After all, if he's already doing and giving everything, without her doing or giving anything - why would she value him? She won't. She is not going to value him any more than he values himself. What she is going to do is look for someone else, someone who she perceives as being more worthy, more confident, and more valuable.

It works like this: Once you need something, or you want it too badly, you forfeit your strength and lose all power of negotiation. You are in a position of weakness and you are perceived as weak. Someone (or something) else is in control of you, the situation, and it's outcome. Men in this situation appear to be anything but confident, strong, and exciting. More, they are perceived as being unworthy and as lacking value.

Translation: Things that are easily acquired, obtained, or maintained, without any effort or sacrifice, lack value... it's human nature.

The secret to why the cocky guy wins with women, over the nice guy, is that he is perceived as being a stronger, more confident guy with more value. How? He never invests everything -- his entire being, ego, and self-worth in what one woman's response or reaction to him is. He doesn't gush with compliments; he isn't always available; he doesn't give too much; and he knows he isn't going to die if a woman says "no" to him. More, his attitude is, yeah, I'd like to go out with you, but if I can't, that's OK -- I'm a busy guy, with exciting things going on, and lots of other options."

Why this hit home with me is because I had a hard fast rule about dating for many years, and that was not to take it seriously. I knew from a young age that I never wanted to get married before I turned 30, so every relationship I got in, or more accurately "pseudo-relationship" I got in, I knew would never last because I wouldn't let it get that far. This is mainly due to watching my parents get divorced, and then later my siblings also falling into that same cycle. I just never wanted anything to do with it. You see, marriage doesn't scare me, but a bad marriage does!! I know, I know, you can't predict good from bad, especially when you go into it for all the right reasons.

Going back to the article above, before I turned 30 I was your typical jerk when it came to dating. I was cold, insensitive, aloof, and just plain arrogant. Not only that, but at the time I had a series of shitty jobs that didn't pay well, so I lived in some crappy apartments and had the attitude to match. Despite all this, I was always a bit on the shy side as well, and that seemed to make me come across as even more difficult to get close to. The surprising part of all this? Women LOVED me! It wasn't uncommon to go on a date with one girl, and then have her friend(s) flirting with me the whole time. So I soaked it all in like any good jerk would who didn't take any of it too seriously. I even went out with a few of those friends on the side...

Once I turned 30, I knew I was ready to settle down, and as luck would have it, I met someone who I respected and admired. She was wonderful! What I didn't count on was after years of being a dick, it was hard to suddenly change. Don't get me wrong, I did my best and I always treated her with respect and admiration, but I was still emotionally distant. A part of me had shut down over the years, and opening it back up was proving more difficult than I imagined. Perhaps it was karma, but she decided she needed someone more emotionally open and moved on, breaking my once cold heart as she left.

Fast forward another year, and I meet someone else. By all obvious signs, she could finally be "the one," and now I was even more ready to settle down, having learned from my mistakes from my last relationship. Now I was open, honest, emotionally charged up, and ready to accept the future. This time, I was no longer the jerk of the past, but now I was the nice guy that I thought every woman wanted and needed. We even moved in together, something I had never done in the past. But everything would soon change.

Despite my past actions, I never abused anyone. Not physically or emotionally. Instead, however, I would end up being on the receiving end of it. Watching a beautiful, intelligent, artistic woman go from all smiles and a bubbly personality, to fists and flying objects is not a pretty sight at all. It was when the knives and the gun came into play that I had had enough. I've always wondered why women stay in abusive relationships, but then again, I stayed in mine for 1 1/2 years, so who am I to judge?

So from personal experience, it leaves me trying to figure out just what to do. When I was the jerk, I was popular, but only for short term relationships. When I was the nice guy, I was abused and cheated on. Of course now that I'm over 30 and ready for a longer term relationship, there are less fish in the sea. There has to be a happy medium somewhere, but so far I haven't found it.

All of this makes me thankful for one thing...a fridge full of cold beer! ;-)

Taste of Charlotte; AKA "Sweat Fest 2008"

Good God, another sweat fest!! I reused the same photo from Speed Street since the Taste of Charlotte and Speed Street are very similar. The only real difference is that the Taste of Charlotte lacks race cars and free crap. However, you do get all the heat and same over crowded streets as before, not to mention all the overpriced food and beer. But once again, I only went to it because it was right outside the door, and once again, I had to avoid the beer portion of today’s event. And just like before, a cold beer may have made the event tolerable because the only thing I tasted was the saltiness of my sweat rolling down my face…

How long does it take to change a light bulb?

A long time ago I realized that on occasions, I can take a somewhat mundane task and turn it into the chore from hell! This is just one of those occasions…

The front door of my house is flanked by a light on each side for those times when I stay out past my bedtime. One of those lights recently burned out, so I decided to change it. There was no reason to think that this shouldn’t take but a couple of minutes, so I grabbed the new bulb and went to work. Looking at the housing, it’s similar to the one pictured above with a four sided glass and brass enclosure and four small hand screws holding the top on, one on each corner. The bulb of course is changed through the top, so I proceeded to unscrew the four screws. Once I had this done, the entire housing started to fall apart on me, and I was left standing there with screws in one hand, and everything else barely being held together in the other hand.

“Oh this sucks!” I said to myself.

Realizing that something just wasn’t right, I tried to piece it all back together so that I can start over again. But the catch was that the housing now didn’t want to go back into place. I pushed up here, moved the glass over there, dropped a screw, found it under some plants, placed the top back on, but nothing worked. After about 15 minutes of moving pieces around and some colorful language, I managed to get it back together just so that I can start over once more. Taking a closer look now, I see that there’s a smaller portion of the top that comes off to make it easy to change bulbs without taking apart the entire housing.

“Well duh, dumb ass!” I thought to myself.

So now I take the smaller cap piece off and easily remove the old light bulb. After putting the new one in, I grabbed the cap to place back on, but it wouldn’t fit. I look at the cap to make sure I had it in the correct place, but it still wouldn’t fit. I then grabbed the old bulb and held it up so that I can compare it to the new one, and it’s the exact same bulb, size and all. I then realized that there was a bolt from the cap portion that was too long and kept hitting the bulb.

“This is the same damn bulb as before! How the hell did it work before and not now?!?” I said as I grew more frustrated.

Finally I decided that the only way this was going to work, was if I cut the bolt down so that it will fit right. All I needed was a hack saw and I’d be good to go. But where the hell is my hack saw? I searched my toolbox; I searched the garage, but nothing!

“Give me a fucking break!” I grumbled.

What I did find was some tin snips and a metal file. So first I tried snipping the bolt off, but it was too thick. So then I tried to file it off, but of course that was slow going. So after I filed some more, I went back to the tin snips and finally was able to shorten the bolt. Then, and only then did the top cap finally go into place and I was able to fasten it back down. What a mess!

I think it took me a total of between 30-40 minutes to change this one bulb. Thank God I bought the extended life bulbs, so these should last a few years before they need to be changed again.

Speed Street

Well, it’s the Memorial Day weekend, and that means NASCAR here in Charlotte! Yesterday Speed Street kicked off downtown and the roads are blocked and full of sweaty office workers who rarely see day light. This is an annual event, and the Coca-Cola 600 will take place this Sunday. Although I don’t keep up with NASCAR and who’s leading in the points, I have been to a few of the races and found it very enjoyable. Once, through work, I even took the Jeff Gordon driving experience and drove 8 hot laps in one of the race cars. I had to follow the pace car, but still managed to reach just over 140 mph. I was completely shocked at just how tight you fit into one of those cars. Once I was strapped in, the only thing I could move was my arms and legs, and nothing else. Not my head, not by body, nothing. It had a very claustrophobic feeling about it.

Anyway, back to Speed Street. As with any street event, about all you can do is eat expensive fast food, drink beer, and sweat as you’re trying to fill your bag up with as many free handouts as you can get. Generally the promotional items that are given out are brochures, drink cozies, posters, and candy. I normally don’t attend these types of things, but since I work downtown, all I need to do is walk outside and here it is. Of course since I’m at work I have to skip the beer portion of it. That’s a real shame too, because I just might enjoy it that way, not to mention being better able to cope with my co-workers afterwards. Once back in the office, everyone compares their crap with everyone else’s crap, and then we joke about why we even bother in the first place.

Battling Beauties

Just over two years ago, I was looking for part time work to make a little extra money and to break the monotony of the daily grind. What I ended up with was far better then what I had expected. A friend had a side job as a ring announcer for a sports entertainment company, and their main focus was women’s wrestling and mixed martial arts. At that time they were looking for someone who could run the sound and lighting equipment. This is something I’ve never done before, but being that I have a technical background, I was willing to give it a try. So I went down and was introduced to the owner who showed me the equipment and how to use it. We spoke for awhile and he agreed to give me a try.

When the next shoot came, I showed up for work with full expectations of working the sound and lighting board, but what happened was a little different. The ring side cameraman had been in a car accident and hurt his arm and wasn’t able to hold the camera due to the pain. I was given the camera and a few minutes of instruction, and off I went. I must have done a decent enough job because just over two years later, I’m still running the ring side camera.

Recently we moved into a new studio with all new equipment. Now everything we do is in high definition. Before I use to use a camera that I had to hold steady in my hand while at the same time capturing the “moving targets” in the ring. By the end of the day, and many of those days were 12 hours in length, my arm and back were killing me! Now, I have a shoulder mounted camera that I use. Again, another 12 hour day, but this time my arm and back were fine…but my legs were killing me! Still, this camera is much more comfortable to use and gives a far greater picture quality.

Going back to the day job in my dingy little cubicle is difficult after a weekend of filming, but I do enjoy showing off some photos of my wrestling co-workers to my office buddies. While they spend their weekends playing World of Warcraft and changing diapers, I get to spend time with models, professional athletes, and actresses. The one thing I did realize is that despite how beautiful and famous some of these girls are, they are just like everyone else. They have their daily routines that they’ve grown accustomed to, they have their families that wonder if they’ll do anything good with their lives, and some of them even have husbands and children that they go home to afterwards. They really are no different than anyone else. And of course at the end of the day…


…it’s only a job.

Healthy Living

Yesterday morning I finally watched the movie, “Super Size me.” Although I had heard many things about it, including just how bad fast food is for you, it was much more dramatic actually seeing it happen on the screen before me. I can happily admit though that I haven’t been to a McDonald’s in over a year, and really only eat fast food maybe once a month. But still, the lessons learned from this film can apply to diet in general. I do go to the gym on a regular basis, so later on that afternoon, I made my way to GNC to buy some protein powder. As I’m leaving, of all things I stop behind a Toyota Prius that had two kayaks strapped to the roof. As I’m sitting there peering out the windshield of my SUV, I’m reminded of that South Park episode where all the hybrid driving people enjoy the smell of their own farts, so I thought to myself, “Snooty bastards!!”

I guess I still have a ways to go…

No, You Can't Vote!

I remember when I was 18. It happened to also be a Presidential election year, and I was finally going to be able to cast my vote and to feel like my vote counted for something. I registered to vote and waited until the day came so that I could finally be heard. Once that day arrived, I drove myself down to the local community center and cast my vote for President of the United States. What a proud moment it was for me! I was an adult, my voice could now be heard, and I had the power to vote for or against any candidate that I chose to.

Fast forward 4 years and another election year is upon us and once again, I was proud to be able to cast my vote and be heard. I had moved out by this time and was now living on my own, so I called up the election center to see where I needed to go to vote. The voice on the other end of the phone asked for my name so that he could look me up. I told him and a few moments went by as he fumbled through some paperwork. Eventually he came back and said, "You aren't eligible to vote."

"How can that be?" I responded.

"It's too late, you can't vote." he told me.

"What do you mean it's too late?" I said. "The election is over a month away, and I'm still registered."

"Did you vote last time?" he asked.

"Yes, and my legal residence is still the same. If I need to re register I will." I said.

"No, it's too late, you can't vote." He said more firmly now.

Unfortunately my naive ass believed him, and I didn't vote that year. I don't have any type of a criminal record or anything else that would make me ineligible to vote, so the only thing I can think of was that he saw that I was registered in a different party then he was, and he didn't want me to vote against his favorite candidate. This little episode left me with a sour feeling over all. I was just trying to do the right thing. I just wanted to vote and let my voice be heard. Unfortunately that voice was silenced by the stranger on the other end of the phone.

Please don't let those voices silence you.

Everyday Extraordinary

Often times I’ve wondered what is it that makes one person seem extraordinary and another person ordinary, and I think I’ve finally figured it out. It’s simply public knowledge of what you did. That’s it! Take for example you’re walking home and you hear some kittens meowing from a storm drain. You look down the storm drain and indeed there are some kittens that have somehow fallen in. You lie down and attempt to reach them, but they are just too far away. You quickly go home and get what you can to help you retrieve the kittens and then go back and make the rescue. The kittens are now safe and you have the satisfaction of knowing that you did a good deed. Now take this same scenario but this time have a camera crew there. Nothing has changed except the fact that your good deed is now broadcast for everyone to see. Suddenly people you’ve never met before are walking up to you to shake your hand, pat you on the back, and tell you how inspiring you are to them. Your good deed is the same with or without the public attention, but somehow this makes you extraordinary as compared to before when you were alone and just plain ordinary.

What we don’t see are the everyday extraordinary feats that we ordinary people do. We give to charities, we volunteer our time for others, we take in lost and stray animals and give them homes, we give someone a dollar at the checkout line when they come up short, and we hold the door open for a stranger whose hands are full. So many things we do simply because it’s the right thing to do. Not for any public image or adulation, but because someone once did it for us and we want to repay the kindness, even if it’s not to the same person. It’s like the old adage that “It’s the little things in life that count.” This couldn’t be truer. We take for granted so many things we do every day to help one another, and then move on like it was nothing. Then when we get home and watch the news later that evening, we see a story about one person doing something kind for another person, and we think to ourselves, “What an extraordinary person they are! I wish I could be like them.” Truth is, you already are. You never hear on the news about someone who married, took a job, worked 40 years, raised a family and put them through school while teaching them right from wrong. Sometimes the most extraordinary thing to do in life is to keep plugging on day in and day out, week after week, month after month, year after year...

New York City, a Girl, and a Cello

Last January I made my first trip to New York City. Even though I now live in North Carolina, I’m not a stranger to large cities having lived in both Los Angeles and Houston, not to mention many childhood visits to Chicago. But New York had always eluded me, until now.

In the past I had always waited until I had someone to travel with, but this time I made the trip on my own because there was someone I wanted to finally meet. My favorite actress of all time, Lori Singer, is also a cellist, and even attended the prestigious Juilliard School of music before turning her attention to acting. Anyway, I found out that she would be performing at Carnegie Hall and I knew I just had to attend! So I made my reservations, planned my trip, and boarded the flight to La Guardia.

Being that this was my first trip to New York City, I was like a wide eyed kid at Disney World wanting to experience everything in front of me. My first experience was the shuttle bus ride to the Hotel. I had been told that taking a cab from the airport was my best bet, but knowing the shuttle bus was $17 and the cab ride would be about $50, I decided on the shuttle. So there I was, crammed in with a bunch of strangers staring out the window at my new playground. First one stop, then another until the very last stop an hour later…me. At least the shuttle drove through Times Square and right by Carnegie Hall where I would attend the concert in a couple of days. Once I checked into my room, I hit the streets!

Being a guy, I have a great sense of direction so I set off on foot to the fabled land of Central Park. After a few blocks of walking however, I found myself in Riverside Park on the west side boardering the Hudson River. “Yes, I meant to do this!” I said to myself. Perhaps I’ll go down by the river and wave at New Jersey. Needless to say, I did walk up and down the park and found it a nice retreat in a large city.

The next morning I set out towards Central Park again. It was easy to find this time because I already knew how to get to Riverside Park and knew that Central Park was in the opposite direction. I had been told that one place I definitely had to try was The Tavern on the Green restaurant, so in that direction I walked. The restaurant was crowded, but that was to be expected. I checked my coat and was seated at a table in the main dining room. I ended up ordering the fillet mignon which was the most expensive item on the menu. I figured if I was going to experience this restaurant, I was going to do it right. Of course what’s a steak without a nice cold beer? Perhaps I should have looked at the menu first, because I wasn’t aware that Heineken costs $10 per 12 oz bottle there. Thankfully I only had two. The restaurant’s atmosphere was wonderful, the location was absolutely perfect, but the food was only OK. $71 later as I’m leaving the restaurant, I was still glad that I had this experience to take home with me.

The rest of the time I spent walking and exploring the city. I walked through Central Park to 5th avenue. I walked down 5th avenue past Trump Towers, Rockefeller Center, and many other landmarks to 39th street. Then I cut over to Broadway. I then made my way back up passing through Times Square and exploring along the way. The city is crowded, noisy, and smelly in some areas, but yet I loved every minute of it! I saw so many landmarks that I had previously only seen in movies and on TV, so it made it all the more special to me.

The day of the concert found me starting to get nervous with my anticipated rendezvous. Still, I pressed on. I put on my suit; made sure I had my ticket, and then proceeded to catch a cab ride to Carnegie Hall for the dress rehearsal. Once in the cab, I told the driver “Carnegie Hall, please.” to which he responded in a thick unknown accent, “Where is that?” "Are you kidding me??," I thought to myself. Hell, I even knew it was on 57th street, and I’ve never been here before. I told the driver it was on 57th, and made a point of also saying that it was one of New York’s most famous landmarks. He still didn’t know so he called into his dispatcher, and of all things, the dispatcher had no clue either and couldn’t offer assistance. What? Is this a joke? Is this a new reality show about New York cab patrons?? The driver then pulled over to let me out, and to his credit, didn’t charge me since he couldn’t help out. I hailed another cab, and before I got in I asked him this one question, “Do you know how to get to Carnegie Hall?” Just as soon as those words left my mouth, that old punch line of. “Practice, practice, practice.” came to mind, but thankfully this cabbie hadn’t heard the joke before. The good news is however that he knew how to get to Carnegie Hall, so off I went.

Once I arrived at Carnegie Hall, I marched through the front doors and up to the ticket counter and informed the lady behind the glass that I was there for the dress rehearsal. She then proceeded to tell me that for the dress rehearsal, I needed to go around back to the stage entrance. So I marched right back out the front doors and went around the block to the back of the building. Once inside I was led through a maze of stairways and hallways to where the dressing rooms were. Then suddenly in front of me I see Lori Singer as she's talking with the production director, and then she quickly ducked back into her dressing room. I was then led into the concert hall where I took a seat close to the stage where Lori would soon be.

15 minutes later Lori came out to practice her part for the concert, and I sat there quietly, hoping that I wasn’t grinning like the village idiot while she played. Once her time was up, and apparently she was the last to rehearse that day, the concert hall quickly emptied and soon there was only Lori, the conductor, a couple of other people and myself. I knew this was the best time to make my introduction, but I sat quietly while she talked to the conductor, and waited for the right time. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, but in truth was probably only 5 or 6 minutes. As I sat there, my heart was beating harder and harder in my chest. Finally I decided that this wasn’t going to work, so I got up and left the auditorium. Once out in the hall I realized what an idiot I was for leaving, so after a few internal words of encouragement, I turned around and went back in. As soon as I reentered the concert hall, she was by herself and walking up the aisle, and before I knew what I was doing I heard my own voice speak out, “Ms. Singer?”

Lori turned to me and responded, “Yes?” I responded and told her that I wanted to introduce myself, so I awkwardly made my way between the concert seating towards her. You know, like passing through movie theater seats. Then suddenly we were face to face. Wow, she’s beautiful, and tall! I already knew she was tall, but being that she was also wearing heels and standing on the upper end of a sloping floor, it really stood out to me. I first complimented her on her playing, and she politely thanked me. I tried to make some small talk, but being that I’ve always been bad in that area, it was difficult. Knowing that I was coming to New York to meet her, I had played out conversations in my mind so that when the time came, I would come across as relaxed and half way verbal. However, that changed once I looked into her eyes. Suddenly my college educated brain seized up and I was left speechless. Possibly my only saving grace was that I actually said, “I’ve completely forgotten everything I was going to say.” She quickly took over the conversation and everything went smoothly after that.

The icing on the cake to this trip was finally meeting Lori Singer and being able to watch and listen to her perform. She’s an amazing person and I hope to see her again sometime in the future.


And the concert was fantastic!!

Corporate Rebel

Once again I was chided for crossing the street against the light today, and once again, it was so clear that I could have literally crawled across all four lanes blindfolded without any fear of being hit by a car. I’m starting to view myself as the corporate rebel because I say, “Damn the ‘Don’t Walk’ signs!” I’m a big boy now and can choose when to cross the street. “Damn the 8:00am start time!” If I get stuck in traffic and get to work 10 minutes late, the world will not stop revolving, I promise. “Damn being stuck in a windowless building all day!” Hell, if I want to know what the weather is outside, I have to look it up on the web! And, “Damn these small, depressing, work cubicles!” Seriously, just damn these damn things. They have a way of sucking the energy right out of you.

Lost Childhood

I was in the grocery store last night, and saw the cutest little girl. This was no ordinary little girl, but a disabled little girl. She must have been about 3 or 4 years old, and she was sitting in her little wheelchair. Her younger brother watched her from his perch in the shopping cart while their father did the shopping. Whenever they moved to another aisle, the little girl would hang onto the back of the shopping cart and roll along. This was both very cute and very sad. Cute in that they were both so young and innocent. The world is a big place and they haven’t even begun to experience life around them yet. Sad in that the little girl will never fully experience life in the way so many other children will. She’ll adjust, she’ll make the most out of the situation she’s in, but I can almost hear the other children as they say things like, “What’s it like not being able to walk?”, “Will you always be in that chair?”, and “Does it hurt?”. Not out of cruelty, just out of curiosity. But still, those words can hurt because it’s a constant reminder of how others view you. Eventually she’ll hear those lonely words, “We don’t hate you, but you just can’t do the same things we can!” as the other children run off to play.

I was in a wheel briefly when I was a kid.

Happy Birthday!!

About a week ago I hopped on my trusty bathroom scale to observe my weight loss, and to my surprise my new weight was 217 lbs. What?? Last week I didn’t even weigh 200 lbs let alone 217 lbs! You would think that I’d notice a substantial weight gain like that in such a short period of time, but my clothes didn’t seem any tighter than before and none of my coworkers called me a fat ass either. So I get off the scale, wait until it resets itself, and then get back on. Now I weigh 223 lbs. Wow! That last breath of air must have been loaded with carbs, and Dr. Atkins never said anything about limiting your oxygen intake. So once again I get off the scale, let it reset itself and then get back on. Now my weight is 239 lbs. WTF?? So my obvious conclusion is that my scale is broken.

Yesterday was my birthday, and I received some gift cards for my purchasing pleasure. How sad is it that the first thing I buy is a brand new bathroom scale. You have to love the irony in that as I get older, I went for what I needed instead of what I wanted. When I was younger that would have never happened. I would have blown all the money and have nothing to show for it. Now I buy household items that I need. I also bought weed killer, but I left the underwear for another purchase. Gotta spread the fun out you know…

Road to Nowhere

Today I wanted to get out, to explore, to see new sights and experience new things. I had decided to take today and tomorrow and do whatever I wanted to, within legal limits of course. Once I left the house I stopped by the ATM machine, filled up the Jeep, and hit the road. All I could see in front of me was my very own utopia. I was going to drive back up to the mountains where I lived for many years. Drive by a couple of lakes that I knew well. And even drive by some of my old stomping grounds. Then it occurred to me, what’s new about that?? Why should I spend my free time exploring the old terrain when I was yearning for something new? The whole idea was to get out and free my mind, but instead I’m just driving around in circles. Plus I really needed to pee. So instead of wasting so much time on scenic reruns, I decided to head home. Next time I decide to be spontaneous, I really should plan better. Perhaps I’ll plan a trip to the Pennsylvania Amish country. I’ve wanted to see that anyway.

At least it's the weekend...

This morning as I left the house to head to work, this is the first sight that greeted my day.


We do have a population of Canadian geese in the area, and something this large most definitely didn’t come from your garden variety sparrow. At least not one that was able to get off the ground with a payload like this. I just hope this isn’t an omen of how the day might play out. Anyway, I show up for work and ride the elevator with a cute, young, bubbly girl who seemed delighted to greet the day head on. Obviously she’s new because it seems she still has hope. Once I reach my floor, this is what I have waiting on me.


Perhaps that feathered pterodactyl was trying to tell me something.

The good ol' days...

As gas prices continually rise, a part of me wants to reminisce about the gas prices from when I had my first car, a 1970 VW Bug. I’ve had much nicer cars since then, but I’ll always have a soft spot for those old bugs. Mine was crème yellow with red front seats, a black back seat, a rusty coat hanger for an antenna, and the heater barely worked enough to keep the frost bite from forming on your toes. I loved that car!! Of course knowing what’s important in life, I had a killer stereo system in it. Do I remember how much gas was per gallon? No. But it seems as though it was less than a dollar. What I do remember is that it only took about $10 to fill the tank. It always took $10 because I had to always fill the tank. The gas gauge never worked so I never knew how much gas I had, so my best bet was to fill the tank, drive 200 miles and then fill it up again. This worked pretty well until I got lost once on a back country road. Thankfully the people at the house I walked to were kind enough to let me use a can of gas they had reserved for the lawn mower. Once I was back on the road, I vowed never to run out of gas again. Well…at least I was close to a friend’s house when did it happen again. Now instead of $10 to fill the tank, it takes just over $70. Ah, the good ol’ days…

Don't Walk

I work for the wimpiest company when it comes to safety. Don’t get me wrong, safety should be an important part of our daily lives, but there’s a limit to it. Recently I was chided when I crossed the street while the “Don't Walk” sign was lit up. Not only was the road clear, but when I say there were no cars anywhere close to the intersection, what I really mean is that a disabled person using a walker could easily cross the street while walking their pet turtle on a lease behind them! But no, the corporate policy states that I stand there staring at that damn sign until it finally releases me from the electronic mental grip it has on me. Then, and ONLY then can I cross the street safely. Of course that’s assuming that all cars and buses pay attention to the red light and actually stop, but I’ll leave that for another time. So if you’re ever in my city and you see a group of people standing on a lonely corner with blank looks in their eyes as they wait for a sign to change, stop by and say, “Hello!”

When trust is lost

Obviously this isn’t an everyday blog for me, but more “when I feel the notion” to write something. Why have I taken keyboard in hand today? I’ve been thinking of friends, or more the so-called friends in life that is. For instance, take someone you’ve known for many years. Someone you trust. Someone you can count on. Then one day this person violates your trust in a most profound way. I don’t mean the little arguments that friends have, or even the blowups that can occur on occasions over the stupidest things that later become fodder for jokes. But in a way that really digs deep and forgiveness just can’t be seen on the horizon. Why? What was the reason? What was the gain? The result however is the loss of someone you thought you could always trust. No more that supportive voice on the phone when you need it. No more that bond that helped you through the hard times. When it comes down to it, no matter how many people we’re surrounded by, you stand alone. What should we do during these times? Find something to hang onto. It doesn’t have to be a person, and in many ways it’s better if it isn’t a person. People have a way of letting you down. What should it be then? Music, books, pets, a destination you like to travel to, a hobby, a charity. There’s an endless supply if we just look and reach out for it. I’ve had to do this myself, so I can speak from experience. Is it a sure cure for what ails you? No, but it does give you something to look forward to, and in so many ways, that alone is enough.

Day 1: I finally started my 1st blog, and I'm speechless

Well, today is the first day of my blog, and it feels almost like being on a first date. You know, what do you say, how do you act, do I wear my shirt tucked or untucked, and is my cologne offensive to my date? Hopefully all these questions will get answered at the appropriate time, but until then, I'll just make my observations of what goes on around me. I mean, reality TV aside, every day life can be more entertaining if you look in the right places. For me, I'm a transplanted mid-westerner now living in the south. Have I witnessed strange and insane behavior from people? OH DEAR GOD YES!!!! So from here on I'll just share some of the things I see around me, whether it be people or just places. After all, it's a great way to stave off the daily routine.