There's nothing wrong with the look that's in her eye

Had to learn the hard way to let her pass by

A job from a male point of view is like a woman. When you first "score" the job - it is kind of like sex after a long dry spell - it enables you, makes you feel good, boasts your ego, and you want to leap for joy. When I first got my job 17 years ago in San Diego, I remember leaping up and down with joy, and when my boss called me back and heard me out of breath and asked if everything was okay, I downplayed it - but I was excited. Now 17 years plus, I start getting the typical middle aged husband point of view - you know - the whines about they are not appreciating me, they know they got me where they want me and I am not going anywhere, they are neglecting me - the type of concerns any man married for a long time might gripe about regarding his wife after the sex and passion wear off and it is his turn to either change the diapers, take out the trash, or pay the bills.

So theoretically speaking - not that this happened - although it probably possibly might have happened - oh screw it - it DID happen - I recently found myself "tempted" by another woman so to speak. Just at the point when I felt I could use the lift, the encouragement, the esteem of a new career move - or lover - however you want to look at it, she came knocking on my door very seductively in a tight see through blouse with both of her riped full breasts exposed practically whispering come fuck me honey (I don't normally throw out the "f" word lightly but seeing that Viola dedicated her entire August 19, 2006 post to it - I somehow feel justified now). And of course - I was initially suspicious - I mean - why was some hot luscious sexy honey looking at a pot bellied middle aged man anyways.

And then the tease slowly began - she wanted me - yes others were wanted to - I was not her only suitor - but I was at the top of a list, and after just one short screening date to determine that I really was the one for her, I could have my way with her and live out my wildest dreams and fantasies. And then the waiting game began as I went out and bought a new suit, had my hair cut by a real hair dresser, did everything to look my best as I got ready for the long 3 hour one way drive in each direction to the promised land to meet my impending piece of ass. And then everything would be different once she chose me - which would of course - be a matter of time - my mid life crisis would be done with, I would be getting laid with fresh meat - my ego would be boosted, life would be worth living again, and I would be sitting on top of the world. It was meant to be - God had sent her down from the sky to rescue me - and I felt it in my bones that this was the one for me.

And after the first meeting, the painful wait to confirm that I was indeed the one for her. Waiting - waiting - waiting forever for that magical yes. At first it was going to be a week and a half, and then that turned out to two and a half weeks. It turned out there was just one slight problem. I was not number one - I was actually number two - but number one was hesitating and was not sure if he really wanted her. So I kept up my hopes, knowing the waiting torture was slowly eating away and morphing into a full on obsession. Even when my college buddy, Mr. Blotted Liver (yes - wine and pot bellies do go hand in hand in case you wondered) was up here cruising the lake with me - I was waiting for that wonderful ticket to the promised land that would arrive via cell phone. Waiting - waiting - getting more depressed as the day went on - for the phone call - that ultimately - never arrived. Not until today. And guess what. Number one took her and now I was back where I started.

Some have suggested that I got my hopes up for nothing and wasted my time and money courting this elusive lady, only to land in rejection - but I see it differently. I gained an experience - the meeting - interview - for lack of a better word - and I cast out my fishing line out there and now I have one down and more to go. I will never give up the hope and remember the inspiration when I really believed to some degree it was possible that someone or something was choosing me of all people to enter into the paradise of a new opportunity. I would never claim to be on a first name basis with God, although I do believe in some elusive version of him or her, and just because I made a psychic prediction that turned out - in this instance - to be false - I still believe she is out there, somewhere - waiting for me - and when the time is right, maybe the next time around I will get her. And of course - I am a realist - I know she cannot solve all my problems. After the original thrill wears off, like any marriage I will have the conflicts, frustations and resentment that all relationships bring. But today is the first day of the rest of my life - to get incredibly cheesy - and my spirits are not down - I remain inspired. I have seen her vision and I know that some day we will be united together. In the mean time, back to the familiar ball and chain.....

This is about as clean as you will ever see it 

Emerald Bay with Mr. Liver holding his water 

Grabbing the monster with 2 hands 

Dude where's my espresso?? 

Emerald Bay 

On Golden Pond - either that or scenic point at Incline Village 

All I leave behind me..

is only - what I found

I posted a few pictures of the recent family gathering in Mammoth Lakes, attended by my parents, younger brother, daughter - and of course - yours truly. I didn't write about it - until now - because honestly, I didn't know what to say. We seemed to get along well - and I just made it a point to tune out the private discussions excluding me - as if you are one to be offended by rude and inappropriate behavior, than my family is not the place to be - all I know is the subject matter must have been real important if I was to be excluded from those meetings. But never mind - not dwelling on that - we did get along - nothing was brought up regarding past conflicts - it was real polite and on the surface - the way it is supposed to be. These elderly fragile people who have their various physical ailments to contend with - it is hard to believe these were the same loud, intimidating angry people I grew up with - but somehow they were one and the same. Sara got very attached very quickly - particularly to my brother Dan - props to him for making the effort to interact with her, and cried just about all the way back home, prompting me to join her for a little bit, but more than anything - I felt a strong sense of relief when it was over.

So as fate would have it, I found myself driving back to Mammoth Lakes and Bishop for an overnight trip just this last Tuesday. There was a strong sense that this run may be one of my last trips down this way for a long time - although one never really knows, but just going on a feeling anyways. I debated whether or not it was worth staying over, but after driving almost 600 miles in two days, a little break between travels to sleep never hurts. So it was on the fateful Wednesday morning that I got up from my room at Quality Inn. I normally exercise, but there was no exercise room or swimming pool there, so I decided to go for a little walk. I headed out on Mono Street - just seeing where the road would take me, and not knowing where I was going - ended up very quickly approaching Minaret Road, not far from Sunshine Village, the condominium complex where all of us had stayed just two weeks earlier. I walked around the front office, near the pool (now in ruins due to some kind of mishap involving cracking of the concrete) and I slowly started walking down the hill toward unit 224, where we had all stayed.

And then slowly but surely - without warning - a feeling started creeping up on me - and before I knew it, I was experiencing an incredible feeling of mourning and grief. I almost expected to see my parents and brother there, but they were gone. Our family - having the issues we all do - whether we choose to discuss them or not - is a family filled with pain and hurt. Some families are close - both physically and emotionally, but there is a great distance in ours. None of us are really that close to each other, although we sometimes go through the motions of it. At these gatherings, we pretend to be a family again, before we all go off our own ways and forget about each other. I get along great with my brother when I see him, but once he is gone we rarely communicate - it is just the way it is. Maybe my fault for treating him like crap when I was young, or maybe I was just re-enacting out how I was treated and rolling the shit down hill to the lowest point it could go. Even so - I can understand why he is reluctant to want to get too close - and I can't even blame him for it. During our gathering - I had all my defenses up - because I knew this little gathering would come and go, that we would go from pretending to being a family to retreating into our corners again, and those defenses held up pretty well - even when Sara was crying her eyes out in the truck. Was she living out my grief on some level? Maybe. How do you explain to a kid that a family that acts real close for two days, will disappear and never be seen or heard from for months, if not years to come? Part of it may be our society - the extended family is gone - and some are lucky enough to be near theirs, but our family has lived out the isolated and disconnected sense of alienation to the fullest.

So anyways - when my grief hit me walking by, seeing everyone gone - the sadness was overwhelming. It is awkward to be walking down the streets with tears streaming down your face, but that is exactly what I was doing. In spite of everything, all the hurt, anger, conflicts between my parents and my wife that came close to bringing me to divorce - despite all the hard feelings - I missed them all. I had put up my defenses so effectively that I didn't even know how much I missed them until I walked by the empty condominium unit. I know - my parents think I am counting the days until they die so I can inherit the vast family estate. I will admit - and confess here - that there were times I was so upset at them, maybe I did have a feeling of wanting them gone at the peaks of my hurt and anger. But in a wave of grief it became clear to me, that they were not only gone from the present location, but that the day is coming - sooner than later - when they really are going to die - one at a time - most likely I am going to outlive them - and if what I experienced that morning is any indication of it - I am going to really miss them. Maybe they have brought a lot of misery into my life at times, but they still are my parents. They are going to die, and at some point I am going to follow them down the same road - and the notion of the impermanence and fleeting aspect of life really seemed to slap my face in a way I did not expect.

Analyzing it further - what else made me so sad? That it had to be what it was - my past - my upbringing - the disfunctional family - the longing to really have a family close by - a family that I never really had - was I grieving for that family that I wanted, but never experienced? Is this what I was chasing with all of the Grateful Dead concerts I attended? I believe so. I think we have a natural need to have a family, be part of a close family - a family structure - an extended family is a need - an essential - that many of us for one reason or another are deprived of. Even now I wish we are all closer - but can I make something happen that was never meant to be there? As we all started pushing each other way, was there any way for me to stop it from happening? I don't think so. Could it have been any different? No. Would I have given everything to make it be different - yes. But it is what it is. Now I have my only little family as my priority and we have our own disfunctional issues we inherited - along with the "cheerful gene" - to contend with. Can I do better than my parents? I hope so - but like them - I have my limitations - passed on from generation to generation - and now my daughter is experiencing her own issues - in part courtesy of my own behaviors. Still - I try to remain optimistic. I have spent a lot of time looking in - reading - in therapy and my last therapist told me very sincerely that she was very impressed with all the work I have done on myself. I don't know myself inside out, but I get to know myself every day - and in spite of all of the darkness, I am learning to accept and love myself for who I am, nothing more, and nothing less.

So - on the drive back home that day - I listened to Miles of Aisles by Joni Mitchell - and this particular verse, once again - sent those tears back down my cheeks:

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Whole world full of petty wars

I got mine and you got yours

Mel Gibson has me pegged. I hereby am going to refer to myself not as a person of Jewish ethnicity, but as a fucking Jew. If Mel says it, it must be the truth, right? I kind of take it as a compliment to be referred to one having a sex life - I mean - it may not be as glamorous as Mel's sex life, but it is a sex life nevertheless. For the first 25 years of my life, I enjoyed the less prestigious position of being a non-fucking Jew, so given the choice, I go with fucking Jew any day of the week. Thanks Mel - we can celebrate our bond over a drink - just don't borrow my car keys for the drive home.

But Mel has also shown me the light somewhere else. After all, I as a member of the Jewish people am responsible for ALL of the wars in the world. Now we all know Israel is already engaged in a war in Lebanon right now, but where does that leave me? I am not over there fighting - so how can I play my part? And here to think I have been preaching peace and tolerance here in my blog and I have had it all wrong! So - I have some ideas to start my own "petty wars" so to speak, so I can live up the high distinction Mr. Mel has placed upon me:

1) I hereby resolve to be a complete ass-hole in traffic. No more letting people in my lane, or a courteous wave as I pass by - you know that do unto others as they should do to you - forget that crap. I am now going to drive with my bright lights on as I tail gate you at 30 miles per hour over the speed limit, I will cut you off a car length a head of you so you have to slam on your brakes, flipping you off all the while. It is war baby - road rage here I come!

2) Next time I go out to eat, forget the courtesies - I am going to yell at the hostess to show me to my fucking table, and then yell at everyone I pass by eating that they are slobs making pigs of themselves. When the food arrives late, I am going to yell at the waiters and waitresses and tell them they are a bunch of lazy asses, and then I am going to go into the kitchen to yell at the cooks and tell them the food tastes like shit. That will start a war!

3) I resolve to be hostile with everyone who passes me by on the street. I will look them in the eye and say what the fuck are you looking at buddy, and then flip them all off and call them a bunch of redneck fucks - forget this hi good morning shit - from now on it is war with my neighbors!

4) At work I will start yelling at everyone from now on - forget the good manners and respect. My boss, my co-worker, the customers - everyone is fair game. If you complain about me showing up late, I will yell at you for speaking up - I will say be thankful that I showed up for the appointment at all ass-hole, never mind your waiting. I will be continually rude to everyone and try to start a fight with you when I walk into your house - I may get fired - but I got a reputation to live up to!

I may start getting redundant here - so if you have any ideas how I can live up to Mel's high standards, give me your suggestions here. War is on!

The golf course looks good...

I listen to the Jim Rome show and one of the topics of discussion is how one dimensional golf great Tiger Woods come across in interviews. It seems no matter what the interview is, the famous quote is "the golf course looks good, my golf swing feels good, I like my chances". He even has a pretty hilarious sound clip of various Tiger Woods voice clips pasted together - okay - if you aren't a show regular, you probably don't get it.

But - somehow - for some strange reason - my present set of circumstances which I choose not to fully disclose at this point in order to avoid a major jinx right now - I can relate to this somewhat mocked line. As of this day, I can safely say

Don't waste the breath to save your face
When you have done your best
And even more is asked of you
Let fate decide the rest

I have done all I can do, now the remaining mocking torture of fate waits to either grant me a God given reprieve from a somewhat oppressive situation, or to slap my ass and send me back to the salt mine. Which is it going to be? The waiting is killing me - almost making me physically nauseous - I am about to join my daughter in the hospital for stomach symptoms.

So if any of you happen to be religious, say a prayer to your favorite entity for me at my request. My life is about to either get a whole lot better, or set me up for a major Charlie Brown miss of the infamous football kick, courtesy of his favorite Lucy. For once in my life, please let this not be me ....

Grandpa gets down 

Totally hip... 

We used to play for silver... 

Knowin' you can always count on me

for sure, that's what friends are for

I want to tell you about my new friend - Lino. I can count on Lino when times get hard. He is always there - waiting with a nice big grin on his face to lend me a helping hand. I can't see him, or even hear him - but as some see their image of the divine Lord his or her self, I know he is always there - waiting to help out. You don't know Lino - I admit - he is a new development in my life, but I depend on him in times of trouble, my version of Mother Mary comes to me from The Beatles - Let it Be (not going to link the lyrics, google it yourself). If I am in a bind, in a fix, short on cash, need some monetary assistance - in an almost altruistic sense of wonder, he will whip out the cash and help pay my bills. What more could I possibly ask for.

So let me tell you about Lino. Lino is in my life - courtesy of the home I own - if the definition of own means that in about 30 years if I am able to make payments succesfully, it will actually be my house for real. Because the market got a little crazy, on paper the house has doubled in value recently, but really through no control or action on my part - the market just decided it was worth more 3 years later than the date that I "purchased" it. Actually - Lino's first name is Equity, last name is Credit and his official middle name is "Line Of". But when I go on line to my bank, I have three options to choose for in accounts - Checking, Savings, and now thanks to my application graciously approved by my bank "Line of Credit". But Lino puts a human face on a faceless corporation out to make a profit at whatever cost - Lino just sounds a little bit more human, a little bit more friendly. So instead of going with the full name: Equity (defined as the amount the house has earned in value less the amount I owe) Line of Credit - don't mind me if I go with a personality and just call him my man Lino.

Consider this basic Economics 101 with a big smiley face in the middle. Lino is attached to the prime rate that often goes up or down and we hear about it in the news every time it does. Right now at an interest rate of about 8% - if I borrow the maximum amount Lino has on hand for me - a full 50,000 - than I will be facing an indefinite minimum interest only payment of $400.00 a month. And of course if interest rate goes up - my monthly goes up, and same if it goes down. It is all worked out so that I pay the minimum amount over the longest amount of time, so that I pay as little as I can at once and Lino pockets the largest amount of long time interest as a result - since the longer it takes me to pay it off, the more money Lino pockets to support his own wife and family. Just call it a win win situation for both of us .

Yes - I realize in an ideal world I wouldn't need Lino at all. I could always take the Nazi approach and just insist that we all never spend a cent beyond our means, never go out to eat, and work myself into an anxiety ridden frenzy over trying to balance the budget. But just like my buddy Uncle Sam knows, balancing the budget is a lot harder than it looks. So, as a lesser of evils - Lino is there and has my back. He sure is a lot more appealing than his buddy Credo - short for Credit Card Debt. And if I went money Nazi in a neurotic attempt to stay within an impossible budget parameter, than I would be possibly looking at another unwelcome friend - Divo - short for Divorce Court. So - I walk the thin line between balancing the budget and debt, and Lino is here to help.

Lino's distant relatives are named Loan Shark, but Lino is much more civilized. Lino is a sensitive type of guy, he isn't going to come over and break my arm because I am short on cash. Hell - he may even let me borrow from him to meet the required montly payment, I could borrow from Lino to pay Lino - what kind of sweet deal is that? But if worse comes to worse - and I can't pay him at all - nothing personal, he will just quietly foreclose my house, pocket what he needs to pay him back, and then he will even hand over the difference to me - what a guy!

For those of you who do not approve of Lino in my life - I totally understand your concerns - and have a suggestion for you - just send a check or money order contribution payable to Zooknoone at Paradise Waits and I will gladly accept your contributions as an alternative to Lino. But since I don't anticipate any of you are lining up to replace Lino, than it will be Lino lining up instead.

In the mean time - wish me luck on Tuesday.

White trash - don't call me that

Southern Culture on the Skids - song introduced to me by Uncle Dan - if you are reading this, wouldn't mind it in CD - courtesy posting of lyrics at the end of this post

I am not about discrimination, but this is quite an interesting term when you normally associate discrimination against the assumed minority races and whites have always been assumed to be the majority. Webster's online dictionary describes it as being a member of an inferior or underpriviliged social group. Based on that alone and a quick tour of the slop hole I live in, I may very well be considered a distinct card carrying member of this club. One can also see at this link here in exquisite detail that it may not be limited to social class alone. So let me give you my own well defined associated parameters of this social entity.

You don't have to be a fan of country music, or a brainwashed born again Christian to be "white trash" - though it certainly helps. First of all - I think it has nothing to do with how much money you have or what class you are in. And how well your home may look inside may have nothing to do with it either - a nice, orderly, picture perfect home can often harbor a monster within. I think the derogatory term trash is in my book associated with the regard one has for one's fellow human beings. I have come across certain socio-pathic types that are looking out for number one at all costs, and the notion that their actions have any affect on others, never seems to come into play. If white trash wants to get drunk, you better stay out of WT's way - because WT is going to get loaded, stink like shit, throw his beer bottles into the road, pick a fight if anyone says anthing offensive, crawl off to sleep in his mobile home or RV, throw up in the morning, and then repeat the process all over again and you had better hope WT in his or her completely loaded state decided that a nice tour of the countryside behind a loaded automobile did not come into play as part of his or her reasoning. If WT wants to get laid for another form of a fix, WT is going to go un-protected, unconcerned about either receiving or transmitting STD's, hopefully avoid getting knocked up, but if it happens, an abortion is always a nice way to solve the problem - or better yet - have the damn kid, collect child support as a supplementary income, and then have the damn kid grow up to be either neglected, abused, molested - or a combination of the three - and not think anything of that either.

Unfortunately - the reason I am inspired to write such a somewhat negative toned piece of blog is that the complete unconcern listed above seems to have had a direct impact on my life at this present time. No need to go into specifics here, and not naming any names - you know the standard any coincidence here is purely imagined - but those of you out there who have lived by the I am going to do what ever the fuck I want - regardless of how it affects you - and if you don't like it go fuck yourself - are having an impact on my family and my life in a pretty uncomfortable and discouraging way. What can I say to you to get you to change. Do you have to have an Ebineezer Scrooge moment where you realize that if you continue on this course, you will be condemned to an existence where nobody remembers anything good about you as you are lowered into a cold grave for eternity? Do I have to get you to subscribe to the notion of karma to realize that one's selfish actions that ultimatley hurt and harm others, ultimately harm the one who is doing the hurting to begin with? Or - in your sociopathic state, are you just completely hopeless and beyond redemption?

If I sound mad - well - I am not writing this in a state of consumed rage. But I wouldn't say I am happy about the present situation either. People I know and love have been hurt - I will not go into it any more specifically than that - and some of you may already know what I am talking about. From a Buddhist standpoint, there are no evil perpetrators and compassion for all is the answer - even in responding to a hurtful and damaging situation. As one who has not reached a state of this type of enlightenment yet, I can respect it and know I am not there either. Whatever it takes - and however it happens, if it ever does, it would be nice to live in a world where people did care about each other and the affect their actions have on others. In the mean time, a lot more hurting and destruction is going to continue if many continue to live their lives the way that they do.

Southern Culture on the Skids:

"white trash don't call me that
white trash you don't call me that baby
you know i love you baby
don't you think just maybe
the way you talking to me
would send a chill right through me
white trash don't call me that

white trash don't call me that
you saw me on the wagon
you hitch me to your wagon
the way you talking to me
will send a chill right through me
white trash don't call me that

white trash don't call me that
white trash don't call me that
i can still smell the sh*t in your hair
i don't matter what kind of
perfume that you wear
you have been living in the
backwoods hamburger shack
you can take a bad p*ss
cause your'e leaking trash"

"when will I see you again" 

Goodbyes are terrible 

11,000 miles high and somewhat nervous about it 

Getting higher 

Got a bad feeling about this 

Scent of a mule 

Getting acquainted 

Vicious stomach ache pending 

It's all grandma's fault for suggesting this 

Watch out for the bears 

She adores her Uncle Dan 

Looking a little irritted 

Clockwise from youngest to oldest