Good for the goose

If you take a look at all the contraceptives out on the market today, nearly all of them are geared towards women. The pill. Sponges. IUD's just to name a few. The only male oriented birth control is the condom. Heck, they even make a female condom for the woman to put inside of her. How crazy is that?
In talking with my friends about forms of birth control, the answer usually gravitates towards hysterectomies. Well, why not vasectomies? None of the guys I talked to would even entertain the notion of going under the knife if they could help it... the cowards.
After my second child was born, I began to look into getting out of the gene pool. Two lovely daughters were currently in my house. After doing the math, I would have a 1:12 chance of having a son. Right before scheduling an appointment for myself, my wife announced she was pregnant with our third child.
I won't lie. For two brief seconds I considered telling my wife to end this pregnancy. Of course, that wasn't my decision. My rights as a person end where yours begin. I didn't have the right to tell my wife (or any woman) what to do with their bodies. 
So my darling Stephanie came into our lives. Three girls. Punnett square be damned, it was high time to get out of the damn gene pool.
For a woman to get her tubes tied requires an overnight stay in a hospital, cutting through several layers of muscles, and is considered major surgery with the associated cost. Recovery time is in the 6 to 9 week range, depending on surgical procedure and complications.
For the guys it's different. the cost was minimal (under 100.00). An outpatient procedure. (I drove myself home.)
Then, on doctors orders, I had to lay on the couch all weekend and watch TV. I would compare the procedure to be as painful as getting a cavity filled.
Ladies: Every argument your boyfriend or husband makes against getting a vasectomy is invalid. It's cheap, minimal discomfort, no loss of sex drive (I've noticed an increase.), and if you want a kid later for whatever reason, it's reversible! 
My wife and I have sex more often because pregnancy is one less thing to worry about.
And to all the guys who are to macho to consider the points I make: get over it already. Consider it a sign of maturity. Your girl will thank you.     

What we mean

Some times I write a letter of encouragement to a friend or someone I barely know.
Perhaps I should preface this: If I work with you, you are off limits. It's my don't crap where you eat rule. I've broken it a few times, but looking back I can say its a good rule to follow.
There was this young girl who ran the register at my work. We had barely said greetings to one another. She was sweet, pretty and an all around ray of sunshine. One day the rumor mill went into high gear. She'd had a stroke. Yes, they can happen in young twenty somethings. I felt a kindred spirit with her because I knew what it was like fighting back from a serious injury like that. I won't divulge personal details here, but I let her know that this wasn't the end of her world. That there would be a ray of light coming in at the end of the tunnel. I let her know that she wasn't alone in her ordeal and people like her go on to lead happy productive lives. Most of all, I let her know that I was there to listen if she needed someone to talk to.
When she did come back to work, she went out of her way to thank me. She told me how much my letter helped and encouraged her to get back on the horse... to rejoin life.
After that, we remained friends. Said our greetings and told each other stories about how we overcame our difficulties. She no longer works at Lowe's, but I hope she is continuing to find what she seeks.  

What's to forgive?

When it comes to forgiving, I think Baptists are the worst. For example: someone says they're sorry, they should mean it. My whole beef with Religion in general and Baptists in particular is that I don't think they're actually apologizing.
In my many years of going to parties, bar tending and waiting tables I've noticed a trend. Many people are asking for forgiveness on Sunday for what they did Saturday night. The people doing it the most happened to be of the Baptist persuasion. These same people do it again and again. Week after week. Doing some really wild stuff at the dance clubs and hangouts knowing that they can just ask for forgiveness the next morning in church. A revolving door get out of jail free pass.
Kinda takes the sincerity out of it, doncha think?
A friend of mine once observed that I wasn't very religious, but I was a spiritual person. That was a very deep thought and I wanted to give it the time it deserved before I came to a conclusion. They were right.
I do believe in fate and karma. Your outlook on life lends to your overall happiness. I believe we control our own destiny. We make out own luck. Most of all, if you did wrong by a person, apologize... and mean it.
So to all the bullies who beat me up in grade school, to the girlfriend who cheated on me, to all the mean arrogant assholes I've run across (and worked for)... I forgive you.

Spring, sprang, sprung

Last week we were having days in the 70's and 80's. Beautiful weather. Spring has officially arrived. This is one of the reasons I love living in Texas.

Blue bonnets grow everywhere.

 Some of my family lives north of the Mason-Dixon line. They can't help it and I don't hold it against them. In fact, I feel a little sorry for them. Those friends that insist on living east of the Mississippi river and in the North east in general... well, that's plain stupid. They're good people and family, but the location is awful. Every time I've been there, I feel claustrophobic. 
I went up there a few years back. It felt like stepping into a black and white picture. I was the only person in color. The denizens of West Haven were wearing varying shades of gray.
Another thing: There was a liquor store every 1/4 mile. No exaggeration: I double checked. If I had to live up Connecticut way, I'd drink too. To add insult to injury is that they have crappy alcohol. Cheap liquor stores. Stuff normal people would pass on.
My Dad wanted to buy me a beer. (He likes buying me drinks, I don't know why. But hey, free beer.)
He and I walk up to the bar and he asks me to pick out a beer.
Old Milwaukee on tap. Miller. Budweiser.
With a straight face I say; 'I don't see any beers here.'
All the heads at the bar turned and regarded me with evil eyes. Maybe that was self-loathing on their part. The stoutest bottled beer they had was Samuel Adams. What they consider the heavy stuff, we here in Texas consider the baseline.
Now last month, I gave my good buddy a six pack of Shiner Bock. (The beer in Florida is lousy too.) He had no idea beer could taste that way.
My friend hit it on the head: taste. In a moment of universal clarity I realized that if you live in a crappy part of the country, you drink to get drunk so you can escape from the living hell wherever you call home.
If all I had to choose from was Budweiser, I'd be a tea-totaler.
Let me ask you folks, What is your drink of choice? Whatever it is my friends: Drink responsibly. Drink Shiner or support your local micro brew. 
Death before Budweiser!
 
    

story time

This is a story that had been kicking around in my head. It's short, sweet and to the point. Not that I always have a point.
I recently learned one of my favorite hangouts burned down. This was my little way of remembering fond memories. Anyway... enjoy.

Pass you by

                                    --Will Malone

In the scorching heat of day, the humidity was suffocating. Now, with the sun pushing lower to the horizon, people were starting to emerge from their air conditioned refuge. As I pulled open the worn screen door, Calypso music drifted to me from hidden speakers. Bruce the bartender nodded to me and continued washing glasses behind the bar. Oversize wooden spools that formally held power cables served as tables. Mismatching stools surrounded the peeling wood panel bar. Without asking what I'd like, Bruce pours me a Red Stripe from the tap and serves it in a mason jar. Perhaps I should wait for the others in the rattan chair in the corner, instead of sitting at the bar.

“Where did you get that shark jaw, Bruce?”

“Caught that off Key West back in the sixties,” he said with a smile. “Got that shell on the same trip too.” motioning to the leatherback turtle shell near the shark teeth. “Trophies of a bygone era.”

“Hey, don't get like that old man,” came a voice from the door. “Look who it is... Stevie Wonderbread. You finally showed up.”

Nobody called me that nick name anymore. Turning to see who stood in the front door, I almost spit my beer out. “Chris, you fat pollack, get over here and buy me a beer, You made me spill mine.”

Chris and I hugged each other like the old friends we were. Bruce actually came out from his usual roost behind the bar and set two freshly poured beers down for us.

“You're looking good, man,” Chris said as he sipped his brew. “How ya been?”

“It's been too long Chris. Is everybody coming? I didn't think I'd get here.”

Chris shrugged. “You never know who'll show up. But now that you're here, I'll bet the whole Maple hill gang crashes this place.”

“I've missed you man,”

“Next time, don't move to California,” Chris said.

Tilting my head up so I could see the oversize rattan chair back, I could almost imagine being down in Key West... or better yet, some lost island in the Bahamas. The palm trees and Bruce's Caribbean souvenirs certainly helped the illusion.

“Typical.” another voice sounded from the door as the screen clapped shut. “You bums started without me.”

“Dave, quit your bitching and pull up a stool.”

“My two oldest friends are fighting like the bitchy girls they are,” I said.

Dave sat down on a semi-sturdy chair and made himself comfortable. This time Chris brought three mason jar Red Stripes. “Only the best toilet paper coasters for my friends,” he said.

Setting the beers down, Chris gazed over my shoulder before breaking out in a grin. “Here's one I haven't seen in a while.”

Turning to where Chris had looked, I saw a group of faded pictures on the wall. One in particular caught my attention. The people in the picture were hoisting their glasses up in a toast. Friends and peers long forgotten. Scrawled on the bottom in blue ink were the words; Xmas '88. Looking closer, I found what I was searching for. There I sat in the corner with one arm around a girl, stein of beer raised in the other hand. The office Christmas party. We were celebrating the completion of a project that had to be done before the new year. The girl in the photo looked up seductively at my turned away face.

“Hey, what ever happened to you and that girl,” Dave said. “You must have gotten lucky that night.”

Honestly, I didn't know. The face with the gorgeous green eyes and long hair that I found attractive in girls. You'd think I'd remember getting laid. For the life of me, I couldn't recall her name.

“Hey Dave,” Chris called out. “Do you remember this chick's name?” as he pointed to the faded picture. Dave leaned in for a closer inspection.

“Wow.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I can't believe you had that much hair back then.”

The three of us fell back into our seats laughing. “That maybe true, but G looked good in a dress.” Pausing in momentary surprise, I realized that I remembered something. “Her name began with a G.”

“That it?” Chris said. His eyes seemingly held some vital piece of information back. I knew him too well. Generous to a fault, lousy poker face.

“For now,” I said.

“Don't worry about it,” Dave said casually. “It'll come to you.”

Chris wanted to change the subject. “So tell us what's been going on in your life man.”

“Well, not much to talk about,” I admitted. “Moved away, had a few kids... I came back a few times though. As a matter of fact, the last time I was here...” cold realization washed over me. Chris visibly held his breath, clearly awaiting the next words out of my mouth. “Go on.” He prompted.

“The day I gave your eulogy.”

Chris nodded. “It was a beautiful service. Nice touch, by the way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and shmuck face,” pointing to Dave. “Snuck a bottle of wine into my arms before they closed the casket.”

At that moment I needed a drink. Something strong to calm my growing apprehension... and all I had was this lousy beer! My hands fell slack as memories began sifting to the fore of my consciousness. Chris had always been overweight. One winter day, he fell on the ice as his strained heart beat for the last time, never to get up again. For a moment, I didn't see the portly adult he'd become. My mind's eye recalled the stocky pitcher of our high school baseball team who threw a no hitter during the playoffs.

“Ah, that's more like it,” Chris said soothingly. He straightened in his seat, gray hair returning to it's original shade of brown. Gone was the middle age man who stood welcoming me to my favorite hangout. A much younger version of Chris sat smiling as he reached for his beer.

“Hope I don't get carded in here.” He winked conspiratorially while sipping his drink.

Turning to Dave I asked, “Are you dead too? Am I dead? Is this a dream?”

“Answer that question yourself.” Dave replied evenly.

“Gloria and I couldn't make your funeral,” I said. “She was undergoing chemo treatment for breast cancer.”

Dave slowly nodded.

Tears burst from my eyes as I sought out the the hand of my long lost friend. “I am so sorry.”

“It's okay,” he said. “I understand.”

Feelings of sadness and joy mixing together in an eruption of emotion was too much for me to bear. Hiding my face behind my trembling hands, I sought to bring my feelings under control.

A nudge at my right knee demanded my attention. Looking down, my eyes fell on flowing locks of golden yellow hair.

“Snoops?”

My old dog Snoops licked my hand in recognition, tail wagging fiercely.

“He comes in every so often,” Dave said. “Looking for you.”

“I'm dead aren't I?”

If anyone could give me a straight answer, it would be my two dearest friends.

“Buddy,” Chris gently placed his hand on my shoulder. “We've all been waiting for you. You finally found your way here.”

“So is this...” The question died in my mouth before it could stumble past my teeth.

“This is where you were the happiest,” Dave said.

More memories sprang from the murky depths. “This place,” I said. “It burnt down years ago.” Both my friends nodded silently.

“Where's Gloria?” I asked. “You said the whole gang would show.”

Chris slowly shook his head and held up his hands. Dave cleared his throat, getting my attention.

“She always hated bars,” Dave said. “She only came in here that one time because of you.” he indicated the picture on the wall.

Snoops choose that moment to retreat out the front door. As the screen door gently slapped after his retreating tail, I knew where the love of my life would be.

“She's waiting outside for you buddy,” Chris said. “Welcome to the club.”

Pictures

I promised pictures of our recent Florida excursion. My staff photographer took all the photos and she's kindly sent a few my way so I can post them.

The place we stayed at

And that's just the outside. Inside looks a little like this:

Huge tracts of land!

I loved that kitchen. Then we went to do a little sight seeing.

Guess where we went?

Us and my good buddy, Nick.

 

 

Sad to say, but I'm falling asleep on the keyboard. I'll add more stuff tomorrow.

Last day

'I don't want to go back to work.'
 We hear that a lot, some times it's out of our own mouths. So while I can say I'm anxious to return to Texas, I'm not crazy about returning to the 40 hour work week and the reality check that will arrive Monday morning when I get back to my Clark Kent job.
If anything, this week has gotten me motivated to kick start the writing.
As promised: pictures.

Finally proof: You can't get there from here

Universal studios was awesome. This place reminds me of what Disney wanted to be 20 years ago. I didn't mind the wait in line because there were so many things to look at, we were through the lines before we knew it. The line was a part of the attraction experience.

All aboard!

The sorting hat right before you get on the ride.
Oh, the irony!

The prices were more reasonable then the Big D. I actually bought a souvenir cup and got .99 cent refills throughout the day. Giving tourists a little something? That is not in the Disney ethos. Here's the rub: I actually spent more money that way.

In the evening we ate at Margaritaville. The food was pretty good. There were different takes on the usual standards. For instance, the kids mac an cheese became seafood mac and cheese. Bring your appetite and wallet.

Inside Margaritaville

So here's the plan: I'm going to join the 21 century and get a phone that takes pics and allows me to text. I promise not to take pictures of what I'm about to eat... unless it's a huge pile of nachos. 

Say what?

Spent the day at Disney World with the family. Carol and I were stunned by everything that changed since the last time we were here. For the girls this was a whole new experience. It's been eleven years since they've been to the parks. They were squeeing with delight over everything. Even riding Big Thunder railroad at night... twice. We pulled out of the parking lot at 5 minutes before 1 AM. Don't bother setting the alarm clock guys. Nobody is waking Mom and Dad the next morning. I mumbled something about making pancakes in the morning before going to bed.
After a full night's sleep, the girls are just putting in an appearance. We're supposed to be having lunch with Carol's dad. She's going to be making those calls after she gets off with the vet.
Seems our Pepper has some whip worms. Arrgh! I gave him the heart worm medicine in January and it appears I missed the following dose. Well, we got him now. We'll settle with the vet when we get back.
I keep promising myself that I'd post more pictures here. Kayleigh has done a fantastic job of taking pictures of everything. After consulting with my teenage tech team, there will be pictures

So here we are in sunny Florida on my second day of vacation. I'm not counting the days we drove to get here. There is no rest or relaxation involved when driving on a highway. Some observations I have. Let's start with the most obvious and work my way out. HOLY CRAP! The place we are staying at is bigger than my house back in San Antonio. Long ago when I used to work for Disney, this place didn't exist. Last time I was here, this was all trees and grass. I expected new buildings and growth to pop up all over the place. What I also expected to see was some familiar landmarks such as roads. Now toll roads, expressways and turnpikes mark the landscape. Roads have changed direction and merged with others and what not.
It's all changed. 
My first night here I thought I saw a Marriott that my old apartment complex was next to. A friend of mine told me that place was gone... torn down to make way for something else. Still, it would have been nice to see something familiar. We're gearing up for a trip to Disney World. There is a possibility I'll bump into someone that I worked with all those years ago. It took a long time for me to come to terms with leaving the Tragic Kingdom. There were many friends and dear people I worked alongside. Heck, I met my wife there. (She still puts up with me, bless her heart.) In retrospect I wanted to have something to show for my absence. The age old question arises when I meet an acquaintance after all those years apart.
'What are you up to?' or, 'What have you been doing?'
The responses to those questions would be long and varied.
Through the magic of Facebook and online research, I've found out that some of the people I've known have met varying degrees of success. We can't help but measure our triumphs or tragedies to our peers. Comparisons like that are wrong. They're not the true measure of a meaningful life.
Carol is giving directions to my good buddy Nick on how to get here. He is someone I'm very proud to call my friend. He's also someone who's had his ups and downs, but if I had to name one thing I'm proud of, it is that he's growing as a person. He tries and he never gives up. Oh, he bitches, complains and threatens just like we all do, but he gets back up to face all those who put him down. I suppose that's one of the reasons I like him and love him like the brother I never had.

Forgetting things

Thought I was being clever this weekend. Famous last words, I know. Dutifully backing up all my scribbles on to a thumb drive, my intention was to put them where I could get to the stories as well as the finished product. After all, this sequel isn't going to write itself. Long story short: The file with the name of 'Daniel's second adventure', isn't Daniel's second adventure. I rewrote the first chapter. It starts completely different. The one on the screen looks all choppy and crappy. Looks like I'm going to pay the old family computer a visit and see where the file is. I could work on a short story or just fiddle away the lunch hour playing minecraft, but that wouldn't be right. I'll just update my blog using Lowe's complimentary wi-fi. These guys have got to be good for something.
I'm loving this new notebook. Fun and challenging. There is a learning curve on using a Linux OS, but I'm getting the hang of it. I'm wondering how much writing I'm going to get done while on vacation?

fear

People let fear run their lives in many ways. Several things in this house are in need of repair, yet I don't do anything about them. Sure, my check engine light comes on every so often. The reason I tell myself is that I'm afraid it's something I can't afford to fix.
Spiders don't scare me. I'm not traumatized by the sight of blood. Heights don't bother me. (Some of you who know me would think they might.)
When the subject of fear comes up, I joke that my fear gland was removed years ago. While that isn't the literal truth, there is a nifty little metaphor in there. By going through all that crap from my accident, there isn't a whole lot that you can frighten me with. All those little demons we keep inside ourselves? Yeah, looked them in the eye and faced them down. It wasn't easy, but in a way, I had to make peace with all my past.
Still, it's a constant struggle. I keep reminding myself that the problems I'm fearful of wouldn't be so bad if I faced them. Advanced Bionics, the makers of my implant, want money that I don't have. They threatened to block me from their website so I would be unable to buy new batteries. I haven't gone to the website to see if their threat is good, and I'm at the point where I could use some new batteries. I wrestle with rejection every time I try to submit a story. Slowly but surely, I'm getting better. It's not that I think the stories are bad, I'm afraid of what other people think, particularly editors of publications I'm submitting to. So I have to admit I'm afraid of failure, but this is one demon I'm facing down every day.