No Simple Highway

I’ll admit it: I get bored easily. The Internet is my great enabler. So last week, I was, as you may have guessed, bored. In the interest of assuading said boredom, I decided to venture into the rumbling tundra of the second-greatest website ever created, Wikipedia (the greatest website of all time is, of course, Bert Is Evil).

Since Wikipedia is billed as “The free encyclopedia anyone can edit,” I reckoned I was in for a fun evening. Over the course of the next couple of hours, I added some awesome knowledge to existing entries, in hope that some kid, somewhere, would read my crap and try to use it for a school report, or some cubicle dweller might bring it up to impress the other worker drones. What follows is a sampling:

Hee-Haw was the apex of American television and was the recipient of the Nobel Prize in 1973.

After the crash of the Hindenburg in 1937, Lakehurst, New Jersey smelled of ham for several years.

Devo was ZZ Top in disguise.

The 1969 moon landing was faked in my parents’ backyard.

Captain Kangaroo was a major part of the CIA’s MK-Ultra experiments in mind control.

Oprah Winfrey eats puppies.

Jozin z Brazin will unite all the races and all the nations and bring about the New World Order.

Upsy-Daisyum is a key component of the Grand Unification Theory.

It seems that Wikipedia was less than amused, and all my submissions were gone within an hour’s time. I guess there’s those who can handle the truth, and those that just can’t. At least I tried, and that’s what it’s really about, isn’t it?

Tags: bored, lame, wikipedia

It’s been two and a half years since my father passed away and in many ways, it might as well have been last week. I don’t really know how to articulate the persistent feeling of loss; I’m decent with words, but this is something that continues to elude me.

My Dad was a good man. A quiet man, whose still waters ran very deep. Not many people knew that, and it was something Dad didn’t advertise.He was an incredibly talented man; for many years he would hand-paint tableaus from A Charlie Brown Christmas on our front window for the winter holidays. When I wanted a tree house, Dad didn’t let our lack of house-bearing trees act as a hindrance; he built me a huge, free-standing fort that stood a good ten feet off the ground. I spent countless summer hours in that amazing structure, reading and occasionally writing. I’m getting ahead of myself.

In 1972, when he was recovering from his first heart attack, Dad built models. Lots of models and even at my early age, I was fascinated by the process. The patience, the talent involved in creating in miniature, all sorts of fantastic vehicles. He was like George Barris in 1/24 scale. With great patience, Dad taught me how to build and paint models and a few years later, when I took first place in a builder’s competition, there was only one person I could thank. All these years later, model building remains one of my great joys and I’m forever grateful for his tutelage.

Dad was a hard worker, but he always made time for his family. When I was accepted into an accelerated learning program, Dad took me to numerous Saturday learning excursions: NASA, Point Lobos, Point Reyes and several others whose names escape me at the moment. These experiences nurtured my love of the outdoors and the magnificence of nature’s incredible processes.

Despite all this, I often felt as though Dad and I never really connected. I guess I’m part of that generation that felt it necessary to talk about their feelings, while Dad was of the generation that just didn’t. This bothered me for much of my life,but in later years, as his health began to fade, our conversations became more lively, more real. We talked about real things: family, religion, health, life, you name it. The dynamic had changed, and it was great, even though I knew that the circumstances we less than ideal.

In September of 2006, I had flown up to San Jose for my best friend’s wedding. Dad and I made a trip to our favorite place, D&J Hobby in Campbell. We spent hours walking the aisles, looking at all the amazing stuff and just enjoying the time together. Dad was getting tired easily, and he looked…diminished, frail, almost. Looking back, I think Dad knew that there wasn’t much time left and maybe I picked up on that as well.

The next time I saw my father, he was in a bed in the intensive care unit at the hospital. We had talked on the phone just a couple of days before, a good conversation with lots of laughs. He was proud of the things I was doing with my life, and encouraged me to keep writing.

And then he was gone. I have a hole in my life that is shaped like my Dad; an emptiness that will never be filled, and rightly so. He was one of a kind, a breed apart from all the others. He was strong, brave, smart and funny. Those of us who had the honor of knowing him are forever changed and he will be forever missed.

That’s about all I can say about that.

Tags: dad, dads, father, father's day

Maybe I’ve been living in a bubble or something, but I’d never heard of this before. It seems that there are enough men on this planet with the time and interest in getting together to see who has the dumbest facial hair.

Yeah. At the World Beard and Moustache Championship, hirsute dipshits from all the world assemble to bask in the golden glow of their socially repellent habits. For many of these guys, this is the one time they’ll be seen outside their Unabomber shacks all year, except for those who, naturally, are also Civil War re-enacters. But that’s a rant for another time.

According to the WBMC website, “The United States is the world’s new facial hair super power, having captured twelve world championship titles out of eighteen categories plus overall at the World Beard and Moustache Championships in Anchorage, Alaska on May 23, 2009.”

Well, color me proud as fucking punch.

And to add insult to already grievous injury, there is, man I wish I was kidding, Beard Team USA. Apparently there were over three hundred contestants this year, which means that Anchorage was absolutely swimming in moustache wax and the musky afterfunk of many desperate and obviously single men.”Global warming? Overpopulation, starvation, war? The heck wit dat, I’m a-gonna grow me a big ol’ goofy beard!”

This moves Sarah Palin down to being the second dumbest thing to happen to Alaska.

Tags: beard, beards, idiots, rant

Holy cow, am I out of shape. I ended the first week of school and the new job, and I am plumb tuckered. Years of soft living have taken a hefty toll. I can’t remember the last time I was this tired and yet…I couldn’t be happier.

Sixteen hours of Spanish a week plus twenty hours at the store, several hours of study and homework most evenings leave precious little time for much else. I have to say, I’m very glad to be doing Spanish during summer, when I can devote more time to it. In two weeks, I’ll be adding English Comp to my schedule, which thankfully is just once a week. The downside is that it’ll be Wednesday evenings and I have Spanish exams on Thursdays. But by summer’s end, I’ll have eight units under my belt and by the end of the fall semester, I’ll have added eleven more.

It be kinda nice to have gotten all this out of the way when I was twenty years younger, but what the hell. You only go around once and I’ve got the overwhelming support of every single person in my life. Can’t help but think this is how it’s supposed to be.

Tags: college, employed, school

What a day. Long story short, I had an interview this morning, and was hired on the spot. Six months of angst, anxiety, desperation and all kinds of other downer stuff have come to an end. All I needed was a decent part-time gig while I’m in school, and Cost Plus World Market delivered.

The last of my big concerns has now been put to rest. From now until Friday, I can just chill and get ready for school and look forward to a new, fun job. All the pieces have fallen into place, and it’s nothing but blue skies from here on out.

Woo-freaking-hoo!

Tags: employed, stoked, unemployed

Ten days until school starts. Summer session, two classes, eight units altogether. By summer’s end, I’ll be at least marginally coherent in Spanish, which will be a blast. And I’ll finally be able to properly order a beer at a Mexican restaurant. Hopefully they carry Guinness.

And then there’s English Composition! Reading stuff, writing stuff, research papers, woohoo!

Kidding aside, I’m so ready to get started on this new chapter. Non-employment was an interesting journey, it was a blast to discover all the new and exciting ways to clean carpet (no euphemism, just actually cleaning carpets), clip coupons and so many other fascinating things I used in a desperate attempt to stave off boredom, and now I’m done. I even wrote a novel; in hindsight, I’m not sure it was a particularly good one, but that’s really beside the point, isn’t it?

Note to potential employers: See how funny and well-spoken I am?  Wouldn’t I be an invaluable and dynamic asset to your team? Seriously, I need a part-time job. I’m running on fumes here and I will not let you down.

Tags: bored, college, school, unemployed

Damn, I love waffles.

After several years of close observation, I believe I have figured out the truth about Genoa City, Wisconsin. Bear with me, it’s gonna get bumpy.

Genoa City, by all appearances, has a core population of approximately twenty people, with perhaps ten to fifteen others who serve in various support functions. This tiny town, in the middle of nowhere, is home to no less than three international, multi-billion dollar companies, Newman Enterprises, Jabot Cosmetics and Chancellor Industries. The first is run by a soulless thug, the second by an arrogant, loudmouthed empty suit, and the third by a cool yet dotty octogenarian. None of these people are ever seen to be performing any sort of function for the companies they appear to run.

Genoa City has one hotel, one restaurant, one department store, one nightclub, as well as a seedy motel and a run down bar on the fringes of town. Of late, the city also appears to have a single-unit trailer park. No grocery stores, no gas stations, no movie theaters. Nor, it would seem, any bathrooms.

If a resident of Genoa city chooses, regardless of talent or experience, launch a magazine, a clothing line, a nightclub, a music career or become an artist, clothing designer, biographer, photographer or senator, they are met with sudden, overwhelming success.

Nearly every time a resident is seen getting into a car, tragedy of some sort ensues. For such a small core population, there is an inordinate amount of infidelity, blackmail, arson, miscarriages, hallucinations, mental illness, amnesia, murder, conspiracy, double-dealing, general nastiness and outright idiocy. Oh, and visits from ghosts.

It only gets worse. People randomly disappear, only to re-appear and look nothing like they did when they left. Children age several years overnight, and no one seems to notice. Nearly every adult in Genoa City has had at least three different marriage partners, almost always within the same aforementioned core group of people. The adults always caution the children about birth control; ironically, none of these adults seem capable of putting that same advice into practice.

What does all this mean? Well, when factored together and approached pragmatically, there is only one possible reason for all this:

Genoa City is an experimental insane asylum.

It exists inside of a large, insulated bubble and none of the residents (inmates) are aware that they are doing little more than ‘playing house,’ nor are they aware that their lunatic machinations are being broadcast to the outside world on a daily basis. Sort of like The Truman Show, but with crazy people.  And now it all makes sense.

Tags: bored, cbs, daytime drama, genoa city, soap opera, young and the restless

I despise every hair on that emo guy’s head…I wonder how loaded Paula is tonight…it’d be cool if Olan Mills still did that crappy 70’s-style famliy photography…whatever happened to Donna Pescow…I think my toenails need a trim…damn, I’m bored…Kara Dioguardi is difficult to look at…oh neat, he’s doing that nerve-grinding shrieking thing again…I could fight a wombat but I might lose…if a person ate their own boogers and/or fingernails, would that make them a cannibal…will they ever put Down To Earth on dvd…say what you want but for my money, there’s nothing better than cheese…I wanna have drinks with David Cronenberg…what’s the deal with squirrels anyway…those couch cushions are not symmetrical…why no grape pie…cats have it made…I would watch Anne Hathaway peel potatoes…I think Randy is functionally retarded…there’s that noise again…if you look up the word ‘idiot’ in the dictionary, you’ll find a definition…Viggo Mortensen has a vestigial tail…if I could walk on water, I probably would…it’d be neat if I could turn my eyes around and I could see inside my head…I miss Mummenshanz…why did they have to cancel Small Wonder…oh thank goodness, it’s finally over. Okay, nightnight…

Tags: bored, random, rant

Half a year of non-employment. I don’t believe I’ve ever been out of work this long. With each day that passes, I grow farther away from my former employer and profession, and I could not be happier. Frankly, I’m amazed I lasted as long as I did with them; what a wretched experience.

Onward and upward…I start English Composition and Spanish in a couple of weeks. Books are bought, parking permit is done and tomorrow I pick up my student ID. A college student at the tender age of forty-three, holy crap. I think this is going to be an amazing experience and I’m more than ready to take on the challenge.

Great days ahead, if I can get through the immediate future. Bottom line is that I need a part-time gig and there is absolutely nothing out there. Sure, the carpets are still the cleanest they’ve ever been, I’m getting to be a home economics whiz, and I’m really learning how to make a dollar holler. The thing is, it’s not all sunshine and roses. There is a darker side to this.

Today I…vacuumed the ceiling. Yeah. The ceiling.

Well sure, it needed it, but…still.

Tags: college, mid-life, school, unemployed, unemployment