Archive for February, 2009

28
Feb

Three Things

I filled this out at Facebook, but I’ve decided not to duplicate work.  If I fill out one of these things there, I’m throwing it up here as well.  (To read more about throw up, check CMGD for a tale).

Here we go.  You are not required to send this on to ten friends to prevent Bill Gates from stealing your kidney and leaving you in a bathtub full of ice in Vegas either.

THREE NAMES I GO BY
1. Babe
2. Berger
3. Daddy

THREE JOBS I HAVE HAD IN MY LIFE
1. cook at Denaro’s in Auburn
2. Landscaping (quit on my now brother in law after one day)
3. Waiter and Bouncer at TJ’s Sports Bar

THREE PLACES I HAVE LIVED
1. Auburn, AL
2. Mission Viejo, CA
3. Suwanee, GA

THREE TV SHOWS THAT I WATCH
1. Intervention
2. Celebrity Rehab
3. The Office

THREE PLACES I HAVE BEEN
1. Montreal, Canada
2. The Bahamas
3. Jail

THREE PLACES I WANT TO GO
1. Ireland
2. Norway
3. Italy

THREE OF MY FAVORITE FOODS
1. Steak
2. Pizza
3. Rack of lamb

THINGS I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO
1. Patrick finally talking.
2. 95% less toys in my house.
3. Spring Break in Hilton Head

THREE PETS THAT YOU HAVE OWNED
1. Happy (gerbil-deceased)
2. Fufi (Lhasa Apso-deceased)
3. Sissy (Border collie mutt-dog in law-deceased)

THREE FRIENDS WHO WILL REPLY
1. My wife
2. Scott Mauldin
3. Frank Spina

THREE FAVORITE BANDS
1. U2
2. Guns n’ Roses
3. Three Doors Down

FAVORITE TEAMS TO WATCH
1. Auburn Tigers
2. Atlanta Falcons
3. Boston Red Sox

THREE FAVORITE DRINKS
1. Beer
2. Single malt Scotch
3. Beer

27
Feb

Good news continued!

Came home last night to find the same douchebag cop with a minivan pulled over about 500 feet from my house.  I literally had to make a conscious decision NOT to roll down the window and thank him for solving all the other actual crimes in my area so he could focus on the menace that is stay at home moms picking up little Britney from gymnastics.

Oh, and in case I did’t mention it.  It wasn’t the city cops.  Again.  It was the county cops.  Were they where actual crimes were occurring?  Of course not.  They were in an upper middle class mother fucking subdivision handing out pussy tickets.

Why do we bother having police again?  I mean, the street cops?

My last interaction with a street cop was after is was hit in the passenger door at 80mph going to work one morning by a merging vehicle.  I managed NOT to cause a 500 car pileup.  We called the cops. The girl that hit me admitted to hitting me by coming into my lane.

Guess what they said?

You’re both 50% at fault.

I had to spend god damned money to fix a car that another vehicle hit by coming into my lane, and according to officer Dicknose, I was half responsible.

Do me a favor you worthless pieces of carbon.  Just go to the mall and hand out tickets to the dickhead kids with their pants hanging lower than their ball sacks.  That sounds more like a crime you’d be capable of solving.

And one more thing.  I will give every one of my readers a dollar if I see that same asshole security guard there on Monday, March 2nd.

I think my money’s pretty safe.

26
Feb

Hey! Look at me! I’m standing up!

yesterday afternoon on my way home from work, I bristled.  And then I swore.  Loudly.

Why?

Because as I was cresting the big hill in my neighborhood by the tennis courts, I ran over two of those rubber hose thingies that connect to a box on the side of the road.

One tube is no big deal.  That’s just counting axles to see whether widening a road or a traffic control device are in order.

But two means that some chicken shit county cop is sitting up ahead a bit waiting to write speeding tickets for the guy that was going 38 up the hill in a 30 and didn’t brake  at the crest of the hill, so now he’s doing 42mph.

That’s right.  The county cops.  The ones that patrol the entire county, of which the southern portion is filled with illegals, gangs, violence, people driving without insurance, crime, and god knows what else.

I didn’t have to look at my calendar to know it was the end of the month and that it was money making time.  I also wasn’t surprised that there were three cops lined up at the three way stop just lying in wait.

Mind you, in the past three months there have been roughly two dozen vehicle break-ins, home invasions, and some pretty big property damage / vandalism issues.  You’d think the cops would maybe consider working on that instead of pulling over some mom in a minivan in a god damned subdivision.

But no, that kind of policework’s no fun.  Do you know why?  It’s right there in the word:

policeWORK!

It takes work to investigate crimes, solve crimes and it takes time, work and money to prosecute criminals.  But if you pull over a soccer mom for roll stopping an empty intersection and give her a $125 ticket, you know she’s just going to pay it and it will require zero calories from you, Mr. C-student, high school graduate, thought it would be Starsky and Hutch but instead it’s following funerals and directing traffic guy for twenty years guy."

You’re like the bitchy flight attendants or, as I refer to them, air waitresses.  The job looked glamorous and the perks looked good, but it turns out that most cop work isn’t television style sexy.

And so, you’re mad but you can’t quit because you’ve gotta make your twenty years to get your pension.  And THAT’S why, instead of protecting our streets from gangs and crime, you dole out tickets to the people that actually contribute to society.

And one more thing, and this is directed at one cop in particular.  The reason you’re not a flashy homicide detective and instead are directing traffic at funerals and high school football games is that you’re stupid enough to park your cruiser on the sidewalk in front of my Walmart, and sit there in the driver’s seat playing on FUCKING FACEBOOK!!

I hope you’re enjoying your hemorrhoids from all the sitting and that you get carpal tunnel syndrome from the ticket writing.  Maybe when your twenty years are up and you’re waddling around with an inflatable donut under your arm and you’re writing hand all gnarled up, you’ll think back at what your life could have been.

But I doubt you will.  You’ll be too busy yelling at those damn kids to get off your lawn.

25
Feb

Groundhog Day

I know it’s not Groundhog Day.  It’s Ash Wednesday. But my life feels like Groundhog Day nearly every day.

(Know that this grumpalong is written while not looking at the wife I have that deals with this for fourteen hours a day as opposed to my two hours a day).

6:08am:  Alarm goes off.  I may or may not snooze, and I may or may not require the alarm.  My Kramer clock is pretty accurate.

6:10am:  Shower, shave (if it’s Monday or Thursday) and get dressed.

6:20am:  Attempt to wake up the bear (aka GBD) because Thing 3 is awake.

6:21am:  Head downstairs with Thing 3 (and sometimes Thing 2).

6:22am:  Change diaper of screaming, crying child strong enough to prevent you from doing so without the help of a partner.

6:25am:  Take Thing 3 to the kitchen to pour some milk in a bottle and let him open and close the microwave and hit start.

6:26am:  GBD or I give the lad said bottle.

6:45am:  Other children awake or awakened.

Fill the next fifteen minutes with "I know you’re hungry Fia, I’m working on it.  Lauren, get dressed and brush your hair.  Patrick, stop (insert whatever he’s doing that he shouldn’t be here).  I know you’re hungry Fia, I’m working on it.  Lauren, get dressed and brush your hair.  Patrick, stop (insert whatever he’s doing that he shouldn’t be here).  I know you’re hungry Fia, I’m working on it.  Lauren, get dressed and brush your hair.  Patrick, stop (insert whatever he’s doing that he shouldn’t be here)."  And one of us makes coffees.

7:00am:  I head downstairs to get my iPod, Blackberry, check my e-mail.

7:10am:  Confirm that Thing 1 is dressed and fed, Thing 2 is fed and Thing 3 is not doing what he should be, which is every and anything he is doing.

7:15am:  Checklist with the kids (two of them anyway, since one can’t or won’t talk) -

  • computer?  Check
  • phone?  Check
  • book?  Check
  • iPod?  Check
  • wallet?  Check
  • coffee?  Check
  • keys?  Check

And off to work.

Inevitably, sometime during the day, I get a message like this from the wife.  Here I will attempt to recreate one I received yesterday.

"Patrick just dumped out all of the diapers, emptied the entire bag of wipes, dumped out the toy bins in the playroom, poured a bag of cheddar Chex mix all over the foyer,then emptied the dishwasher including putting all the dirty silverware back in the drawer, and now he’s eating a magic marker.  GAH!!"

5:45pm:  Come home to said mess.  Start cleaning with GBD.

Fill this time with "Girls! Stop fighting!  It’s a used paper towel roll!  So honey, hold a sec.  Patrick!  Get off the desk!  Patrick! get off the kitchen table!  Patrick!  Stop eating mommy’s wireless mouse!  I was saying, how was your day?  Hold on.  Girls! knock it off!  Patrick!  Stop climbing on the desk!  Fia! I will not hold you!  Lauren, no you can NOT go to (insert any child in the neighborhood’s name)’s house.  Mine was fine.  I had a…one sec babe.  Patrick!  Bring daddy the remote!  Fia! Put your clothes back on!  Lauren!  Yes you have to wear underwear tomorrow.  Patrick!  Get out of the menu drawer!  Girls! Stop fighting! That’s Patrick’s toy anyway.  Nevermind babe.  We’ll talk later."

6:00pm:  Have the "What do you guys want for dinner?" discussion, and the answers are always Dora spaghetti O’s, hot dogs, pancakes, spaghetti or Easy Mac.

Since Thing 3 is contained in his seat for a while, we fill this time with rapid cleaning and dishwasher filling and / or emptying.

6:15pm:  More me plus GBD cleaning (only to have it undone within 15 minutes by Thing 3).

6:30pm:  bottle and pajamas for  the boy.

6:45pm:  Boy up to bed, and then we begin the "Girls, it’s time to get ready for bed.  Let’s get on our jammies and brush our teeth.  Ladies.  Beddy bye time.  Jammie up peeps.  I’m not saying it again kids.  Put.  On. Your.  PJs.  Lauren!  Fia!  Put on your pajamas!  NOW!!"

7:00pm:  Sigh deeply and then we both proceed to put pajamas on the girls.

7:15pm:  Alright girls…bedtime.

Fill the next fifteen minutes with "Awwww.   Daddeeeeeeeeee!  I’m watching this!  Just five more minutes!  Please!!  But I’m thirsty.  I’m hungry.  I don’t feel good.  I’m not tired.  Please can I just play five more minutes please please please please."

7:30pm:  Trudge up the stairs and then one of us reads a story to both girls and puts them to bed.

7:45pm:  More cleaning, then "So babe, whaddya want for dinner?"

7:46pm:  I dunno.  I’m gonna start with a scotch & water with a side of Lortab.

And yes.  This is every god damned day.

Love you babe.  Don’t know how you do it.  And yes, I’ll pick up some diapers, wipes and the zoloft.

24
Feb

Facebook

I signed up for Facebook the first time about 18 months ago or so.  It seemed a lot of people were on it.  Sadly, no one I knew was.

Let me say this about social networking on the information super worldwide highway.  I hate it.  I take that back.  I hated it.  everyone was running around yukking it up about MySpace, and I thought MySace sucked.  MySpace has proven time and time again to be the vast wasteland of pedophilia, random spamming and nothing of any real use.  There’ve been moms guilty of making their daughters’ rivals commit suicide, there’ve been breakups, pedophile-arranged meetings with kids whose parents should know what 14 year olds are doing on the internet, etc.

All it consisted of was people making eye-gougingingly ugly and retarded themes that weren’t well designed, didn’t fit the page, had pathetic content and nothing ever happened.  It was instant messaging with a music video or something attached, or some punk ass posting "Yo! Hit me up!" all over the place, hoping to have the most MySpace pals of all.

No thank you.

So this fall, I started getting emails about folks friending me in Facebook.  I thought the term "friending" was gay.  I thought the process of friending was gay.  And after seeing THIS youtube video , I thought "Well, here’s another web app that’s all the rage that will flame out quicker than Geocities."

But I have to admit I was wrong.

In the months that followed, I was friended by and talked with many people I hadn’t talked to in a long time, and in some cases, a VERY long time.  I also found that people I knew seemed to know other people I knew but neither knew that the other knew me.

To that end, I want to talk about some of my odder Facebook experiences as they relate to Friendings (which I guess is what I will call it now), and would be interested in hearing about yours.

I’ll also tell you the stuff I like about Facebook outside of the people part.  And I’ll tell you about the stuff I don’t like.

The first odd Friending I had / made / did (or whatever the fuck that would be called), was with a girl I met in line while trying to early vote.

** Sidenote:  I’m 40.  Why do I still refer to adult females as girls?  Shouldn’t I say woman?  I think I refer to all females my age and under as girls and the ones that are older than me as women.  Is that wrong?  **

So as I was meandering in line for SEVEN FREAKING HOURS, it was inevitable that you would begin making small talk with a few people in front of and behind you to pass the time.

After a few hours I had learned that this girl was a mother of three going thru or getting a divorce.  She had a three kids (I’ll keep specifics out for privacy’s sake) and around lunchtime, I found that despite our similar places in life, she was now my personal and official vote cancel outer.

We discussed lots of issues quite calmly (unlike the koolade drinkers around us), talked about kids, families, and other small talk.  And then, sometime around lunch (I ordered a couple of pizzas from my friend’s pizza establishment to share with some of my voting friends, and he delivered four and said I could pay whenever as I had no money or checks), she found out that she had to leave since her ex or about to be ex couldn’t watch the kids anymore.

I said that it was nice meeting her and she pulled out her iPhone and said "Are you on facebook?"

I said yeah, told her my name and she added me.

Since then, we’ve talked occasionally about a variety of things from the octo-mom, politics, her child that was in Scotish Rite for a few days, mutual acquaintances, etc.  If it were ten or twenty years ago, we wouldn’t have exchanged numbers and stayed in touch, but Facebook makes that easier.

Another odd one was a guy I threw darts with and against back in the day in the Buckhead Dart League .  He threw on a team out of a bar where we’d become friends with the owner, and we always had a great time with them.

So out of the blue, I get a friend request from this guy.  I say sure, and then I see "Friends you have in common" and the girl I mentioned above is listed.

WTF?

So I ask her, and she says they went to high school together.  Made me laugh a couple times, that did.

The other two really bizarre ones were from people I knew in college.

I’ll preface this by saying I wasn’t the person that had 6,000 friends at college.  We had a group of about ten of us that hung out together and another ten or so girls that were associated by fraternity affiliation, roommates of girlfriends, etc. I liken my college experience and the time after to the movie "The Big Chill," in that I haven’t stayed close and in touch with those people, but we shared a closeness way back then that kind of bonds us.

Anyway, "Fred" was a fraternity brother of two of my roommates.  As they were in the same pledge class, they hung out together and, when not at the house, we all hung out together.  Fred had a cool condo and was a nice kid that had never consumed so much as communion wine to the best of my knowledge.  We did our best to corrupt him, but more or less failed.

The last time I’d seen Fred was in ‘96 at a football game.  Nothing since.

One morning about a month ago, I was getting ready for work and said to myself "Hey, I think I’ll look up Fred today."

Fast forward fifteen minutes, and as I’m on my way to work I get an email saying "Fred" has friended you.

Insert twilight zone theme here.

We talked a good bit and caught up on folks we knew, work, families, etc., and it was nice.

(As you may notice, I’m a pretty good reminiscer, as if that’s actually a word).

I also found my freshman year roommate thru his younger brother on Facebook.  His younger brother was about 7 or so when we were in college, but Michael was nice enough to update me on Rob and even sent me an e-mail address for him.

I found Matt from Falmouth, MA who went on to become a Vet and had a big family, not unlike the one he came from.  I’ve looked for other folks, but had not much luck.

But the one most folks find strangest is this one.

My now wife and I broke up when I went to college.  I know that’s a shocker.  Dude goes to college and breaks up with girlfriend for greener grass.  Blah blah blah.

During the two years between when I went to college and when she and I got back together, I dated a girl for about a year or so.  She was roommates with a girl one of my roommates was dating.

It was as serious as a one year relationship at college could be, but I wasn’t ready to commit (or at least not to her it would seem), so we broke it off and that was that.  We’d see each other occasionally on campus and were cordial, and then everyone went on with their lives.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, and I am Facebooking away and decide to look up some folks from college.  So I throw her name in there and there she is.  After a brief pause, I click the "Friend insert name here."

I expect no response.  I mean, I wasn’t the best boyfriend ever, it had been twenty years and in the end, clicking "Ignore" is pretty easy.

But she didn’t.

So we ended up catching up via Facebook chat. I talked to GBD about it to make sure she didn’t mind, which of course she didn’t.  She knows I’m reminiscy (again, not a word) about school, so no big deal.

So we talked about our respective roommates and the stuff we’d learned or heard about all of them since college, we caught up on our families, especially our kids, and were talking about our respective marriages.  She knew GBD at least a little bit while we were at college, and I told her that it sounded like we’d both done well in the spouse department, and she replied simply "Looks can be very deceiving."

So I ask, and she tells me why her marriage isn’t as super as it looks.  I’m leaving out the details for deniability just in case.

I feel terrible for her.  She’s a nice person.  Although her parents are not far away, she’s more or less alone.  She is from a small town.  Although she lives in a big town now, she doesn’t have a big pile of friends.  She has a couple, but for one reason or another she can’t confide in them the entire story, so I told her she could tell me. I mean, who was I gonna tell?

So she did.  She asked for my opinion about stuff, vented about stuff, and was able to just talk thru the circles and questions one has to talk thru when this happens in one’s life. It always comes back to the same thing, and it’s not "Can you forgive?"

It’s "Can you forget?"

After some serious deliberation and consideration for the kids, herself, and even him (although he doesn’t deserve it), she decided that she couldn’t, and that it was time for a divorce.

So now it’s a whirlwind of lawyers, papers, bank stuff, kid stuff, assets, houses, blah blah blah.  But in the end, it’s the fact that a nice girl that I knew in college is in a really bad place and wants to be able to put her kids to bed and then vent about this stuff without poisoning them or worrying about which friend of theirs she can talk to and which ones she can’t.  So I let her tell me.

The reason I tell you this story is that I’ve told it to other people I know, and the vast majority think it’s wrong and terrible and evil that I’m in contact with this person.  I disagree (obviously) but I’d like to know what you think.

(Insert awkward transition here)

Which brings me to the stuff that i like and don’t like about Facebook.  Here are my likes:

Mob Wars, Metropolis, Writing on peoples’ wall, scrabble, status updates, kid pictures and high school and college pictures.

Here are the things I don’t like:

Flair.  Every app saying I need to grant access and wanting to post updates on everything I or anyone else does, 99.999% of the groups and causes, the dumbass ads on the side, especially the jerkoff in the wife beater sitting in a Ferrari saying "I only have a GED and I make a grand a day."  I don’t like every single app saying "Invite your friends to…"  I don’t like when people leave the IS at the beginning of their status update so it says "Joe is went to the mall."  I don’t like that people don’t know the difference between sending a message and writing on a wall (WHICH IS PUBLIC)!

So Facebookers, what do you like or not like?