Trends and Resolutions

     Over the last few years, I have noticed a trend happening.  I doubt others would see it.  They would probably only see my personal fears or tell me that it's all in my head.  Well...real or imaginary, I still have to deal with it, right?  So this trend, as I see it, works like this - Women will talk to me about their personal lives, about how the boyfriend isn't paying enough attention anymore or how the hubby has been cheating or whatever.  Now me...I try to help.  I offer suggestions on what to try, what to say...things like that.  I'm their best friend when the shit is hitting the fan.  But when things start to turn around, when things start to get better...well, then suddenly they don't want to talk to me or be seen with me.  It happened with 2 different women I knew from a previous job and it's happened with various women throughout my years.  Why is it that I am only good enough to talk to when the chips are down?  Every time it happens I say to myself that it's the last time...that from now on I will be like all the other guys cuz then women would at least talk to me.  But I can't do it...it's just not in me.  I'm the nice guy.  And nice guys always finish last IF they finish at all.

     The second part of this lil rant of mine is about resolutions.  It's almost the new year and everyone makes resolutions and finally, after many a year, I will too.  But first, a little background to help understand my resolution.  Recently someone made the statement that "art is essentially useless".  This has bothered me since I first read that statement.  A trusted friend at work told me I should just forget about it.  Unfortunately for me, it's just one of those things that sticks in my craw.  See, it works like this - if art is useless, then, by extension, the artist is useless.  So in essence this person is telling me that I am useless.  What makes it hurt even worse is that this is coming from the very person who inspired me to become an artist in the first place.  Thus we come to my resolution for the new year.  Since I am indirectly being told that I am useless, my resolution is to never again create any art.  No more drawing or painting or coloring.  Nothing artistic or creative in any way.

     When your Muse tells you you're useless...then it is time to stop.

the Mirror

     I stare into the reflective surface and wonder to myself, " Who the hell are you?"  Then I realize, "Oh yeah, that's supposed to be me."  The only problem is, I don't see 'me'.  The man in the mirror is not the image in my head.  The image in my head is of a man in his late 20's or early 30's . . . but there is an old man staring back at me.  Who is this old man?  I don't know him.  Oh yeah, that's supposed to be me.  

     But something has happened to me over the last few weeks and months.  I feel . . . okay.  It's been a long time since I have felt this way.  Usually everything is all Doom-and-Gloom.  It's an ok place to visit from time to time, but most folks don't like to live in Doom-and-Gloom land.  I, unfortunately, have lived there for far too long.  One day, I took a look around and realized that it was just me.  Doom-and-Gloom land had dwindled to a population of just one - me.  Finally, I decided "to hell with it".  

     I like who I am now.  I have fun being me now.  I find I laugh a lil more nowadays.  Smile a lil easier these days.

I stare into the reflective surface and say to myself (thank you SNL), "I like me".

A 'funny' thing happened . . .

     Well, it has happened again.  Someone that I THOUGHT was a friend, up and waltzed out of my life without so much as a "so long" or a "see ya later".  There are times, such as this, that I despise trying to be nice.  All it ever seems to get me is more pain.  It just seems that folks come into my life, carve out a place in my heart for themselves and then abandon me when they KNOW its gonna hurt the most.  And not only that, but it's always a woman, too.  But not even my true friends, or even my family, seems to understand what this kind of thing does to me, how it affects me and makes me feel.  I'm starting to think that I should just give up on this whole bullshit 'friend' thing as a whole.  It's nothing but pain.  It's a frivolous commodity nowadays, but it's something that I, personally, take to heart.  Friendship MEANS something to me, dammit!  It's not something I enter into lightly and yet most of the people I encounter these days just dont seem to get it.

Bottom line: If you are the type of person who can't be bothered to at least say goodbye to me, then don't pretend to be my friend the rest of the time.

That's my vent . . . for now.

A Modern Man

I'm a modern man,

digital and smoke-free;

a man for the millenium.

A diversified, multi-cultural,

post-modern deconstructionist;

politically, anatomically and ecologically incorrect.

I've been uplinked and downloaded,

I've been inputted and outsourced.

I know the upside of downsizing,

I know the downside of upgrading.

I'm a high-tech low-life.

A cutting-edge, state-of-the-art,

bi-coastal multi-tasker,

and I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I'm new-wave, but I'm old-school;

and my inner child is outward-bound

I'm a hot-wired, heat-seeking,

warm-hearted cool customer;

voice-activated and bio-degradable.

I interface with my database;

my database is in cyberspace;

so I'm interactive, I'm hyperactive,

and from time to time I'm radioactive.

Behind the eight ball, ahead of the curve,

ridin' the wave, dodgin' the bullet,

pushin' the envelope.

I'm on point, on task, on message,

and off drugs.

I've got no need for coke and speed;

I've got no urge to binge and purge.

I'm in the moment, on the edge,

over the top, but under the radar.

A high-concept, low-profile,

medium-range ballistic missionary.

A street-wise smart bomb.

A top-gun bottom-feeder.

I wear power ties, I tell power lies,

I take power naps, I run victory laps.

I'm a totally ongoing, big-foot, slam-dunk

rainmaker with a pro-active outreach.

A raging workaholic, a working rageaholic;

out of rehab and in denial.

I've got a personal trainer,

a personal shopper,

a personal assistant,

and a personal agenda.

You cant shut me up;

you can't dumb me down.

'Cause I'm tireless, and I'm wireless.

I'm an alpha-male on beta-blockers.

I'm a non-believer,

I'm an over-achiever;

laid-back and fashion-forward.

Up-front, down-home;

low-rent, high-maintenance.

I'm super-sized, long-lasting,

high-definition, fast-acting,

oven-ready and built to last.

A hands-on, footloose, knee-jerk head case;

prematurely post-traumatic,

and I have a love child who sends me hate-mail.

But I'm feeling, I'm caring,

I'm healing, I'm sharing.

A supportive, bonding, nurturing

primary-care giver.

My output is down, but my income is up.

I take a short position on the long bond,

and my revenue stream has its own cash flow.

I read junk mail, I eat junk food,

I buy junk bonds, I watch trash sports.

I'm gender-specific, capital-intensive,

user-friendly and lactose-intolerant.

I like rough sex; I like tough love.

I use the f-word in my e-mail.

And the software on my hard drive

is hard-core - no soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini mall.

I bought a mini-van at a mega-store.

I eat fast food in the slow lane.

I'm toll-free, bite-size, ready-to-wear,

and I come in all sizes.

A fully equipped, factory-authorized,

hospital-tested, clinically proven,

scientifically formulated medical miracle.

I've been pre-washed, pre-cooled, pre-heated,

pre-screened, pre-approved, pre-packaged,

post-dated, freeze-dried, double-wrapped

and vacuum-packed.

and . . . I have unlimited broadband capacity.

I'm a rude dude, but I'm the real deal.

Lean and mean.

Cocked, locked and ready to rock;

rough, tough and hard to bluff.

I take it slow, I go with the flow;

I ride with the tide, I've got glide in my stride.

drivin' and movin', sailin' and spinnin';

jivin' and groovin', wailin' and winnin'.

I don't snooze, so I don't lose.

I keep the pedal to the metal

and the rubber on the road.

I party hearty, and lunchtime is crunch time.

I'm hangin' in, there ain't no doubt;

and I'm hangin' tough.

Over and out.

words by the immortal George Carlin

An Ode to Myself

Alone again tonite...a place you know too well

Missin' somethin' in your life

Just goin' through the motions

Like to say that you got burned

Well, you're not the only one

You've reached the Y in lonely

On the streets where you run

Can't go back to where you've been

Are you ready to try again?

Commitment's just a word

You couldn't wrap your heart around

Foolish pride and freedom

Got you standing your ground 

The same faces every night

Where you stay 'til closing time

It don't stop the empty feeling

Are you just wastin' your time

A leap of faith, another chance

While you still can dance

Once you let someone love you

You'll find an open door

A place in your heart you've never been before

Believe that it's never too late

For someone to set you free

Once you let someone love you

words by N. Schon & J. Cain

My World

     I was not born for this world.  After many years trying to fit in, I have recently taken a step back and had a hard look at myself.  What I discovered is that I do not have the skills necessary to survive in the world today.  I just don't.
     I read.  A lot.  I read about what is deemed fantasy worlds; worlds of myths and legends.  Worlds where your ACTIONS determined what type of man you were, not where you were born or how much money you were born into.  These worlds are home for me - it's where I belong.  The world of 2011, the here and now, is a world of "me".  What's in it for "me"?  How does it benefit "me"?  It's a world of lies, deceit and betrayal.  It's a world full of men who say and do anything to make a buck - screw the other guy in the process.  The rich get richer and everyone else can go to hell.
     And it's the little things that no one seems to miss either.  When was the last time you saw someone on the bus get up to let the elderly man or woman have the seat?  Or the pregnant woman have the seat?  How many times have you personally sat in a chair at your local Starbucks sippin' on your coffee watching out the window while someone was getting their pocket picked right in front of you?  And you just sat there.
      MY world, the world and time that I claim as mine - no one would stand for that.  In my world, the elderly were revered for having lived so long and gathered as much knowledge as they had.  They were taken care of, not shunned by society as a whole, stuck into an institution and forgotten about.  And everyone looked out for everyone else.  People had good hearts and did good things for their fellow man.

     An example - when I moved out to Denver many moons ago, I got a job at a local 7-11.  One night a guy came in and was getting very basic things; milk eggs, baby food, diapers, dog food.  Like I said, just basic things for the various members of his family.  He brought everything up to the counter and after I totaled everything up, he realized he didn't have enough money on him. He was stuck.  It was just the basics.  There were no all-night grocery stores in the area and I was working the graveyard shift.  I made him a deal.  I had a list as an employee there - I could eat or drink whatever I wanted, just put it on the list and pay for it when I got my check.  I told this to the guy and then wrote down everything he had on the counter...all of it.  He was so grateful.  He took his bags and went home.  This was the start of my disillusionment with the world.  I honestly did not think I would ever see that guy again.

     SURPRISE!  It took, maybe, 30 minutes before he came back.  He had all the money for the groceries.  He was so grateful that I had taken a chance on him, two strangers trusting one another.  It turned out that he was the leader of  the biggest of the local gangs and from that night on I was under their protection.  So much so that this guy actually beat the crap out of two of his own members for trying to steal from me.

     That's my world.  A world where my actions spoke much louder and more honestly than anything I say.  A world where being the nice guy was a good thing.  But here?  Now?  The nice guy finishes last IF he finishes at all.  The nice guy gets ridiculed and shunned.
     One other thing you might have noticed.  In all the posts so far, I don't really talk about God.  God has no place in my world.  They say all I have to do is believe.  But I don't.  I can't.  Too many contradictions.  They say I'm going to Hell for not believing, but you know what?  After living in this world, Hell would be a vacation.  And if there is no Heaven or Hell, then I know that my old friend will always be there waiting for me...
     . . . my Olde Friend, the Dark.

Giving Up

     Many many moons ago, before I was even a one-celled organism, a doctor told my parents "you're going to have a baby.''  Now, at that time, my folks already HAD two kids and really didn't want a third.  Then they found out about me.  Strike one.  They decided that, well, if it's on the way then let's at least hope for a girl.  Extra equipment.  Sorry folks.  Strike two.  Finally they said, well, let's at least hope for a healthy child.  Born with asthma.  Heh.  Just starting out life and already three strikes.  And the hits just kept on coming.

      I'm 42 now, and yet feel SO much older.  Bad feet, bad knees, back problems, elbows and shoulders that ache from the moment I wake til I go back to sleep, and a bad ticker.  To some I'm sure this sounds like I'm complaining, but I'm just presenting the facts.  Besides, it's not like anyone is actually READING what I type anyway.  I'm a product of what Life has done to me.  They say that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but I don't feel strong anymore....I'm beaten.  The aches and pains are just physical though, and I can deal with that.  What gets me, what truly drags my spirits down beyond the deepest, darkest depths of Tartarus, is all the events that have demoralized me throughout the years.

     Recently I had interaction with someone,  a couple of lunchtime get-togethers for a burger and some witty banter.  Well, in truth it was one at first...and then a three week hiatus.  And in those three weeks she found someone else.  Heh.  That was the last best shot.  After all these years and and all the crap I've dealt with, people that have come into my life and left again - and some that I made sure will never see the light of day again - all of the physical pain will eventually go away.  It's that emotional shit that's killing me...and yet, I'm still here.  And that bums me out the most.  I want it all to just stop.  The BIG stop.  But I can't do anything about that because I made a promise to the LifeGiver.  So here I sit, mired in a pain that will never stop, a pain that haunts my dreams the same as it does my waking hours.  Luckily for me I can't remember my dreams.  My only solace.  Because when I fall asleep, the only thing that is waiting for me then...is the Dark.

     Always the Dark.

An Ode to My Muse...

Cascades of gentle touch, her passion blinding my eyes.
I find I lose myself, drowning from her colorful sky.
I'm aware of her grace...those careless kisses.

She's my Zen, my own, my only Shangri-La.
She's my french champagne, she's my ooh la la.

Like a gentle wind she moves, a fascination I desire.
She's a butterfly, she's a Mona Lisa smile.

Tattooed on a sacred place, she's a mystery.
Wondering if she loves me, she's a mystery.
She's a sweet confusion.

I can hold her tight.
Yet she's free to fly in and out of my life.
She's a mystery.

the Curse

     One score and two days into the seventh month in the year nineteen hundred and sixty-nine, a dark depression was released upon the face of the Earth.  Two score and two years later, that depression still exists.  That depression would be...me.  If you can't tell so far, I am not a big supporter of birthdays.  That "enjoyment" of the day of my birth ended during the summer before my senior year of high school.  Since that day, my usual routine for this day consisted of taking the day off from work and barricading myself in my room...not really wanting to see or talk to anyone.  And for a good twenty years, that's how it went.  THIS year however....well, due to circumstances beyond my control, I HAD to be at work, I HAD to deal with people.  

     I received the usual ritual from family.  The eldest brother said "Happy Birthday Jim" as I was walking out the door to go to work..and then didn't say anything to me for the remainder of the day.  Mom called me that night and, because of strange timing and odd circumstances, my father and I didn't get to talk until three days later.  There was ONE person I was hoping to hear from, though.  Not so much to hear her say the words "happy birthday", but just because I wanted to hear her voice.  The day came and went with no word from her.  I tried to call her the next day, our usual day to try and talk, but she was out of town with HIM and I didn't even get to hear her voicemail message as that has changed to some prerecorded message in some strange guys voice.

     It has been awhile since I have talked to her, my Muse.  This, more than anything else, causes my heart and my spirits to plummet.  Yes, just the sound of her recorded voice can sustain my soul until we actually speak to each other again, but I am denied even that now.  Perhaps she might see these words and try to call...but as the saying goes "I'm not going to hold my breath".  This...is my Curse.  I don't believe that anyone else can truly understand it as such, unless they experience it themselves.  I NEED her...in whatever manner I can get.  Even if it is merely hearing her voice in a recorded message.  

     I know I will never get to live the Dream.  That dream is to be with her, but she and I have had that discussion before.  I will always be the Good Friend.  Unfortunately, that seems to be my role in the life of every woman I have ever had a true interest in...the Muse...the Enchantress....the Innocent.

     Thus I have given up hope.

     What little soul I had left has been crushed.

     The dream is ended.

     All that remains...is the Curse...

     ...and the Dark.

the Dark

     There are times, in the wee hours of the night, when those quiet little thoughts that we ignore during the day sneak back into the forefront of our minds.  Those little thoughts that tell you that you're not good enough or smart enough.  All of the little what-ifs and the would-a, could-a, should-as that we refuse to acknowledge ...consciously anyway.  These times are part of the Dark. 
     The Dark is the source of all the fears that a person has or ever will feel.  Any slight doubt contained in the mind is magnified by the Dark and transformed into the demon that hides under the bed or in the closet, waiting for you to fall asleep.  Because whether anyone wants to admit it or not, everyone feels, usually for just a micro-second, a feeling of fear or dread just before they open the closet door with no lights on.  For me though, the Dark used to be my best friend.  It hid all my fears.  It hid me.  When you are a young child, during a time in your life when being part of the group and having friends is most important, it hurts when no one wants you to be part of their group.  The Dark hides that pain. 
     Growing up, as a male, you have to provide everything during the ritual of "going out" - you have to provide the transportation for everywhere you go, the money for the dinner or movie or concert or whatever, anything that the female wants or desires for the evening, you have to provide.  And when you don't have the means to transport or the means to provide for anything really, then you are looked down upon by everyone else.  You are shunned, even if no one admits it.  But not by the Dark.  The Dark accepts you with open arms.  The Dark...becomes your only friend.  You see people you know, people you want to be more than friends with, you see them laughing and joking with each other yet going silent as you pass by.  Another knife thrust into your heart.  The Dark takes that knife out...slowly, gently.  The Dark soothes your pain.  The pain of rejection from your peers.  But the Dark never rejects you.
     The problem comes as we get older.  We begin to drift away from the comfort of the Dark.  And when we finally visit it again, that's when our fears come out, because our relationship with the Dark has changed.  That's not to say that the Dark has changed, far from it.....WE have changed.  All of our experiences throughout our lives change us, sometimes for good and sometimes not.  We begin to fear the Dark because we see the end coming and the Dark represents that end.  And there are times, in the wee hours of the night, when all we really want is for the end to finally happen.  Because only then do we finally return to the comfort of the Dark.
     The Dark is always there. Eternal.

Musings about the Muse. . .

     Yesterday I found myself thinking about a certain someone.  Not surprising, really, since this person is in my thoughts every day, but it has been a while since I have seen this person or gotten a hug from her and so I was feeling a bit melancholy.  I miss her.  To paraphrase a song i know..."I need her in my eyes".  The wonderful thing about yesterday though was that somehow, some way, she must have known...cuz she called me. (How DOES she do that?!?)

     Even though I might not be able to SEE her as often as I would like (say, every second of every day), at least I got to hear her voice...and that is actually able to sustain me... for a while.

     A lil background for folks that don't know...the two of us met on the first day of Kindergarten and on that day I just KNEW she was the one for me.  However, the very next day, I also KNEW that I was not the one for her.  But there was absolutely no way I could let her out of my life and so we became best friends.  Growing up though, the thing she never knew was that she was my muse.  She was the reason that I did things.  I wasn't the best looking or the smartest or the strongest, so what could I do to get her attention?  I began to draw...not because I was any good at it but because it was the only thing I could think of that no one else in my class was doing.  Without her, I don't really have any interest in doing anything creative.

     For a while we drifted apart, then found each other again.  Slowly we drift closer and closer physically.  Maybe someday I get to see her again, hold her in my arms however briefly (she IS married now after all).  But what others fail to realize is that for me, getting to just see her or hear her voice on the phone or, most exquisite of all, actually getting to hug her...THOSE are my religious experiences.  THAT is Heaven on earth for me.  It is those moments that I live for.  They empower me...supercharging my body and making me feel like Superman but also fueling my soul.  I need her more than she will ever know.  We have talked about this and she THINKS she knows how I feel.  She doesn't.  Someday I hope to find the words to explain it to her properly, but until then I can only use a woefully inadequate code that the two of us know about.  A turn of phrase from a movie that we both love.

"As you wish, my Princess...as you wish."

the Machine

Right...since, at this point, I only have one follower, who knows all of this already, I really shouldn't have to repeat all this...BUT...at some point others might join in and might be interested in this (yeah right) so here goes...

Towards the beginning of the year, I had developed a rash on my back between the shoulder blades.  Went to the doctor to get it checked.  While there, the doctor made me wait for a good 15-20 minutes before checking me out.  "Why?" you might ask?  Because at that point, my blood pressure was 190 over 110, which I have been told is bad.  So bad, in fact, that while I was waiting, the doc was deciding whether he should have me transported to a hospital.  Since that time, I have had ZERO problems with the rash and the doc has put me on meds that now control my blood pressure and my cholestorol and the doc also seems pleased with the progress so far.

Do I go back to the way I was?  No.  I have actually gotten used to taking most of the soda from my daily intake (I admit to having a small 8 oz bottle in the mornings...it's my version of a cup of coffee).  And I actually drink bottled water when I am at work too.  Whoda thunkit!  The big challenges now are controlling my portion size (and trust me, my mom will keep me posted on THAT one!) and actually getting my fat ass up and moving.  Doc wants me to walk.  Never said how far or how fast or any such thing....just walk.  That is actually going to be the hardest part for me.  I am not the kind of guy to just walk for the fun of it (or run for that matter, like some redheads I might know) but I AM going to do it.

Wish me luck folks.

What A Day...

Ok...so the day starts out fairly normal...I get ready for work.  The trouble starts as soon as I leave my bedroom.  First I dont have anything to take with me to eat for my break nor do I have anything to drink.  Easy fix, I'll stop at the grocery store.
EEHHHHHH.  Wrong answer.  Store won't be open til 7am cuz they are re-waxing the floors and I am there at 5:30.  Ok, no biggie...there is a gas station on the way to the highway, I'll get something there.

EEHHHHH!  Strike 2!  The system is down and won't take credit/debit cards...and I got no cash!  So I gotta go outta my way to find another 24hr gas station so I can get something.  FINALLY make it to work, do my work and then get ready to split.

EEHHHHH!  Strike 3!  Right at the last minute they call me to the front to help out on a register.  "It'll only be for a few minutes."  HA!  "A few minutes" turns into nearly half an hour before I finally get to make my escape.
WHEW!  Luckily the rest of my day was fun.  I got to spend the rest of the day with my mom just hangin' out and doing a little shopping...although according to my mom it ended up as "Holy Crap!  Do you two guys REALLY eat THAT much food?!?"
Ah well...fun times were had by all.

Until next time kids, I'm Weird Willie West here on the Weird Willie West Show only on...
W W W W W...I I I I I...N N N N N ...O O O O O
Wonder WINO Radio!
in western WallaWalla

Truck Day

As always seems to happen, I managed to tweak my left knee yet again during the truck.  It was almost 1000 pieces and, of course, I grabbed a big heavy box and turned all of my body EXCEPT the left leg...thus the knee popped and ended up feeling like a lead weight for the remainder of my shift.  One would think that I would have learned by now but NOOOOOOOO.
So anyway, it is time for relaxing and resting my leg so hopefully I can at least hobble slightly tomorrow, even though She-of-the-Amazing-Smile is not supposed to be there to make the day bearable.  Oh well...it's not like there is any hope anyway.....

Still missing my Princess too.  I am owed a hug and SUPPOSEDLY she said she would cook for me, but I know how that goes........
Just kidding, my dear.

Until next time...........

New Beginnings

That's right, folks...even an old warhorse like me can be dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century.

Just to let you all know what to expect here, there will be adult language, adult situations, random ideas, concepts and ramblings, as well as instances of me just venting.  I will be offensive and about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the skull.  Basically....I will be ME.
There will be no rhyme nor reason to WHEN I post...it might be days in a row or it might be a month between posts.  It's my place and I'll do what I want when I want.

Remember...you have been warned.  Proceed at your own risk.