Too Long

          I was told by a friend who reads my blog, that sometimes, they are a bit long. Also, this person, admittedly, doesn’t read so fast and it sometimes takes them longer to finish reading the entire entry. Such a dilemma. For that reason I’m going to do two things with this one just for them. The rest of you can follow along as usual.

          So here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to keep it short, and I’m going to write slower just because I know they can’t read fast. I want to make sure they keep up with the rest of the class. Cool? Now to the topic at hand.

          I was outside of an eatery that had designated handicapped parking spaces in unusual locations to say the least. They were, however, clearly marked and unmistakeable. One was near the roadside entrance to the parking lot and the other at the back/side of the building beside the delivery door. Clearly someone was not thinking when they were paid to design this convenience for our handicapped citizens.

          The people utilizing these clearly designated spaces all had the proper permits prominently displayed in the windshields of their vehicles. That’s not what I’m questioning here. I’m wondering how these permits are doled out. What is the criteria needed to obtain one of these windshield passes? They must hand them out like candy at Gramma’s house.

          I witnessed a number of vehicles park in these spots that all had permits clearly affixed in the windshield. But one struck me as odd and made me question the screening process of said permits.

          This was a contractor van that had its services of home renovations clearly emblazoned on the side. Now this seems like a pretty physical type of job. What is the handicap that allows you to have a parking permit and continue to do home renovations.

          So what is the handicap? Physical? No. They run their own contracting company. Mental? No. They run their own contracting company. I’m curious as to the criteria for these permits being issued. Am I Missing something here?

          Short and slow enough for you?

Time

          Looking back at how much time has passed since my last entry I feel I need to give you an explanation. Alright, maybe not a complete explanation because there really isn’t one. I could try to carry on about ooooh how busy I was, or how hectic things have been lately but, that would be a complete lie. I haven’t, and it hasn’t.

          The funny thing about the whole “I’ve been real busy lately” excuse is that nine times out of ten, whenever anyone, and I do mean anyone, gives you that line, they are totally bullshitting you. It is a complete and utter embellishment on a life that they want you to believe they actually have. The truth of the whole matter is that they let time get away from them and have not yet returned your call, or email, text, message (yes text and message are two different things), letter, note, posting, or suggestion. They forgot, I mean, I just plain forgot.

          I’ll speak only for myself here in this part, if only not to have to field the barrage of comments and emails with opinions to the contrary, even though you all have done this. Yes, all of you. We use the “I’ve been really busy excuse” way too often for fear that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth will not go over well without further questioning that would surely reveal the extent of the lack of “busyness” occupying our spare time.

I have met very few people in my life that are truly and honestly busy all of the time. And even they will have a certain amount of spare time allotted just for themselves so they can take time away from things like, well…us.

I’m here to tell you that I am not too busy. I have not been too busy. Nor do I intend to be too busy any time soon. Time has just gotten away from me, and within that period of time, I seem to have neglected certain things and people that I shouldn’t have. Namely this, and you. Plus maybe a few other people.

Nope, still not sorry. And for that and only that, am I really sorry. You’d think I would have some sort of guilt cloud hanging over me by now, but, nope. I do however, realize that I am way overdue with this next posting but still…nope…nothing…sorry.

How time passes is a matter of perspective because when I was young, time seemed to always take forever. Like waiting for the end of the school year and summer vacation. It takes forever to get here. Or waiting for your approaching birthday. We all tend to count down the days right until it happens.

Compare that to growing older. The older I get the more I seem to be asking myself “where the fuck did the time go this time?”. Kinda like now. You know, the whole late with the next post thing.

Not just because I haven’t written anything in a while is not the complete reason for this reflection of time. I celebrated a birthday recently and was reflecting upon my previous birthday experiences. Through the joy, the sorrow, the excitement, the surprise, the love, the laughs, and the tears, one thing always stuck with me.

There is always that one fucking idiot who asks you the single most dumbass question on your birthday. “So…do you feel any older? Yuk yuk yuk”. And they’re always the only one laughing at it, unless you are eight years old and hearing it for the first time. I would almost always fake a sarcastic chuckle, then pretended to notice something happening…away from them. Until this year.

This year I took the time to consider this, no longer such a stupid question, because this year, for no particular reason whatsoever, it made me think. Holy crap yes I do feel older. A lot older. My God I ache in places I didn’t know I had. I groan when I sit down. Don’t get me started on the whole getting back up business. My eyesight has gotten a little worse. I’m not sleeping as well as I used to. I can crack certain joints at will. Some other joints do it on their own unexpectedly. My feet hurt. My neck and shoulders are stiff. But as I considered all of this and more, I can still smile.

Considering what has transpired in my life within the last two and a half years, you’re damn right I can smile. And for the first time I can honestly answer that silly question.

Feel older? Yes. Yes I do. Because I am able to be older, and enjoy feeling all of it.

Look Who’s Talking?

          Looking back from here it seems like a long time ago. In fact it’s only been a little over a year and a half. Not long at all, yet so far away. A lot has happened in that short period of time I must say, and never a bad moment. Well, that might be a little exaggeration from the truth but it has been a great ride as far as I can tell up to now anyway.

          I remember the day we met as if it were yesterday. To me it feels like it was, and still is, as if we had been friends all our lives. And if you believe that I have a bridge for sale that you might be interested in.

          The fact is, that we weren’t sure what to think of each other right from the initial meeting. I mean, we sized each other up at the beginning to get a feel for one other, but it was the confirmation of the final decision that made it all seem to be the right move at the time. Cliché’? Let me explain.

           I knew right from the get go that we didn’t quite see eye to eye. There was even a growl or two involved at the initial meeting which lingered to the trial walk on the leash. That did not go too well. A bit more growling and uncertainty which is to be expected with an unexpected situation looming overhead. It’s all very confusing with the whole not knowing “what’s next” kind of business.

          For lack of a better term, “the wife” was the deciding factor. For her it was something to behold. The exchange of seemingly understood facial expressions became almost indescribable if not unfathomable yet wonderful for a first encounter type of experience. It was uncanny to say the least. An instant connection if you believe in that sort of thing. I didn’t until I was in the thick of it, and was in awe. I just sat there looking with the wonder of what was next.

Remember all of that growling that was mentioned earlier during the initial meeting? Yeah, well, that was not a problem once we all got into the truck to go home. There was an elation, as a matter of fact. A realization really. This was the new direction, this was the new addition, and all of that other crap is going to be left behind. This is a good day, a happy day worthy of the excitement that was felt by all involved. 

At least all that were in the truck felt it anyway so stay tuned.

A Venting

I feel the need to vent on this particular topic so please bear with me. I don’t think that I have ever vented before so this may be a first. I’ve opined on many occasion, observed on more, yet participated on all, and been the recipient of many a situation, circumstance, happening, event, happenstance, over the course of this entertaining ride we’ve been on. But I digress.

When someone takes credit for things, like the work you did, the theories that you disproved, the options you made available, or even the ideas to solve the problems that the company asked you to solve. It kind of burns inside to the point that the diplomacy valve in my brain refuses to engage and function properly. This is not new to me yet seems to be a surprise to some of the people who claim to know me. Go figure.

The thing that was the cause of all of this was the fact that a co-worker not only took credit for my ideas, (a situation that was almost swallowable) until this chucklehead decided to gloat about it in front of me. Great big smile on his face. Are you kidding me? Not only does he stab me in the back, lie to the powers that be, claim my work and ideas, wander among us, and forget who he has either stolen from or screwed over and/or lied to. Oh my fucking God you complete sack of shit.

All I will divulge here in this entry is that in no uncertain terms and that any friendship that may have been pending (and there wasn’t because he is an opportunistic infantile egomaniac) is no longer an option. I can live with that.

I do need to let you know that we did have words. Some good ones. Choice words. And people were in earshot. I was commended in silent by fellow employees.

As it turns out, if you treat people the way that they treat you they seem to get offended. Go figure. My response is “suck it up Alice”. I’m of the opinion that if you truly do not want an honest answer to the query, then by all means, do not, for God’s sake, do not ask me the question.

The truth hurts most people regardless of what they tell you. Consider the source. Those three words are extremely good advice for the party asking or answering “any” query from anyone about anything. Consider the source. 

Shorts

          Seeing as it’s been a month since my last entry I figured I would submit a few smaller occurrences contained in one post. Most of these are not page worthy in my opinion, but I may be wrong. I have been before. You be the judge. I like to call them quick quips, and may revisit that as a title at a later date so pay attention. There may be a test later.

          I bet you thought that this was going to be another rant about what people are wearing these days. Wrong.

          Let’s jump right in shall we?

          I saw an advert for a television show about this family that had eighteen kids. Oh…My…God…Eighteen kids? Eighteen? Are you kidding me? What does this guy do for a living that they can afford eighteen children?

          Immediate questions that come to mind come streaming to my brain.

          How big is the house? Does each child have their own room or do they stack them to save space?

          How tired of this crap is his wife really?

          Do they have cable T.V.? If not, that may explain the eighteen kids.

          Whatever the reason, stop already. Thanks.

I was at a fast food establishment and noticed a small pickup truck in the parking lot. You know the kind. The trucks produced with the false intent to do the same job as a real truck but with better gas economy. I call them mini trucks. The ones that come with a 4 cylinder motor and claim to haul a half ton load.

Anyway, this truck had a decal on the back window in six inch tall letters that said “No Fat Chicks”. So I waited to see what the owner of the truck looked like. You would too, don’t lie.

As it turns out he was a rather large gentleman. He appeared to weigh about three hundred pounds if he was an ounce. I am underestimating to be polite of course. I watched him shoehorn himself into this vehicle which seemed carnival-like the longer I looked.

Two questions came to mind. Recalling the decal on the rear window I’m puzzled.

Is he worried about the gross vehicle overload from another person in the cab of the truck because he is fat?

Or

Is he worried that there may not be enough room for another person in the cab of the truck because he’s so huge?

I’m sorry Bobby, but it’s spelled “chamomile” pronounced camo-meal.

It does not mean a dehydrated food survival packet that you take with you hunting. But you may be on to something there.

I was watching a hockey game where the defenceman blocked a shot headed for the goal. He took the shot on the side of the knee area where there isn’t much padding. Needless to say he went down.

The announcer stated aloud that “he went down slowly and deliberately”. Seriously? He dropped like a sack of wet cement. Nothing slow or deliberate about it. Are we watching the same game? It’s not like he had time to ask his teammates “can you help me down”.

Until next time.

Complete Brain Fart

          This particular day was a day just like any other. Who the hell am I trying to kid here? It was nothing like any other day at all. Not even in the slightest. It was 5:00 am, -19 degrees Celsius with a wind chill factor that made it feel like -27 degrees, and I’m out, attempting to start my truck in an effort to get myself to work. For my all “Merikin” friends, that’s cold eh! And yes I did bring in my brass monkey the night before.

          I had no reason to believe that my truck would not start as it had been faithfully maintained ever since it fell into my ownership. O.k. that’s not entirely true either. I’m about a month overdue for an oil change but I have a plan, trust me. My point here is that it has never let me down before. Also the fact that I’m a total idiot for completely forgetting one rather important issue in this whole scenario that I’ll get to that in a minute. Back to the build-up.

          Here I am, bundled up like a papoose, fumbling with my keys, attempting to get into my vehicle before my fingers freeze solid, all while juggling the needed work supply type stuff that I carry with me. It’s a small duffle bag. Not important to you what it is but let’s just say that I need it for my job. Oh yes, and my lunch bag. I can never forget my lunch bag. I may forget to bring my teeth but I will never, ever forget my lunch bag. My wife, bless her sole, makes my lunch for me. I will, and have gummed down my lunch because I didn’t have my teeth. Spoiled? Me? No way. Loved? Most definitely. No the lunch bag does not fit in the duffle bag…duh. Tried it already.

          So back to the truck. I shiveringly (just made that word up. Feel free to use it) insert my key in the ignition and turn it. Everything powers up, phew. A good sign, until I hear that dreaded “click” of a starter not turning over. The silliness of it all is that I think (and we all do) if I try turning the key a few more times in a row, at different pause intervals, it will change the result and maybe trick it somehow into starting. There are fewer sounds that are more disheartening in the wee hours of a freezing cold morning. I can’t seem to think of any right now but I’m sure there are some. This is where the deflation gasps of air escape in realization that an alternative mode is needed to transport myself to work. A cab  and 30 bucks later.

          Now we fast forward to the next morning. After a 14 hour shift I’m not dealing with a dead battery, or starter, or relay, or solenoid. So the next morning it is. Not nearly as cold, nor as early. Still a pain in the ass though.

          I gather a few diagnostic items, and even fabricate a couple of jumper wires to bypass the ignition switch and the starter relay. Out to the truck I go and delve whole heartedly into this situation determined to get to the bottom of it all. I narrow down the issue to what could only be two things. But in order to prove or disprove either one, I need a battery boost. I now begin the inevitable scan of the parking lot in an attempt to flag down someone that would be willing to help me out. After all, I have cables in my truck. Then it hits me.

Like a slap in the face I start looking around, as if I was sure I was being filmed, to see if there is anyone who has noticed just how stupid of an episode this has become. How could I have forgotten the most important factor in solving this dilemma?

I promptly packed up my tools, embarrassingly tucked my tail between my legs, went back inside, and called the service number on the CAA roadside assistance membership that I forgot that I had all along. Major brain fart. Smack myself in the forehead kind of realization.

          Just to make a long story a bit longer, the service truck shows up and boosts my truck to get it running. Then he goes further and performs a complete battery and electrical diagnostic, which takes about 10 minutes, that determines there is a power drain on my battery. Further investigation reveals that it seems to be a failed adapter module for the aftermarket CD / DVD player that I had installed. Needless to say that it took all of about twenty minutes to reinstall the original CD player. Problem solved.

          Kudos to the gentleman that showed up to go above and beyond just giving me a boost. If he hadn’t, the problem would have persisted. Rest assured that your employer has already been made aware of your job well done.

As for me? The CAA membership just paid for itself even though I’m an idiot.

Thank You

          I would like to thank everyone for taking the time to read my very own verbal spewings. I really do appreciate you taking time from your busy day to consider my insignificant observations.

          After all it is only one opinion within a vast sea of opinionated stupidity that this world has become. Just look at the Kardashians for Christ sake. What the fuck have they done for the world? Sorry, I will never speak of them again. I promise.

          As I was saying, I would like to not just thank you all, but offer an opportunity to chime in on this blog. I have opened the comments section so that you can post as anonymous if you feel so inclined.

          I would very much like that you did so…please

          All that I ask is that you post 2 things in the comment section please.

          1: First name only

          2: Country you live in

          This means nothing to anyone but me. I would just like people who read my blog that would not normally chime in with a comment. I would very much like to hear from you and know where you are.

          Thank you for being there for me.