Friday, December 11, 2015

It's Almost 2016, So Where's My Rocket Pack?

Blogging when the passion strikes me. Yep.

Get this out of the way immediately (more fun yet to follow): I am a doomed eternal optimist partially braced for the horrific nightmare that Donald Trump or Ted Cruz could be the next president..... (Durango said that).

Since I was about 11 years old, I've hated being smart. It was almost not worth the good grades with the amount of vitriol and despise that was hurled in my general direction.

I think Obama handles it rather well. I personally would not want to be in his shoes, but perhaps he likes it. It's also possible he's not as humble as my rose colored outlook lets on. But, I'm still optimistic.

When I was in college I swore off watching the news. It was too irritating and depressing. The only news that apparently sold was depressing and horrid. I haven't watched the news since 1989.


I was mostly happy with the popularity of Facebook. There were several people who weighed in my thoughts occasionally who I thought I'd never see again. Never is a long long time. With the advent of Facebook, I've become reacquainted with several of those people.

I've discovered recently that I've been somber. I could even say almost depressed. I've finally put a finger on it. People on Facebook are spewing the filth of the news that I gave  up over 20 years ago.
I see lots of funny stuff on Facebook. I also see pictures of my granddaughter and my children and my friends and my friend's children and grandchildren. It's a cool place.

But thrown amid the good stuff is the vitriol. People who I call "friends" are calling my President a pussy. People who I call "friends" are saying he's a traitor and a pathetic president. I've recently decided to take a stand simply against misinformation (regardless of the target of the misinformation).

My mom always told me if you can't saying something nice about someone don't say anything at all. I pretty much try and live by that. I'll occasionally let slip some negativing towards people, but I usually keep it between me and my wife, myself and I. And my wife pretends to agree with me!

For people who hate Obama (for some strange reason), I'd like to ask what he's done to you? In my life, I've had only one President who affected me in a negative way. And that's because he cutoff funding for Type 1 Diabetes research (albeit indirectly) and he started the military action to invade a country when I was overseas and having to deal with the fallout. Even then I didn't call anyone names. I didn't vote for him and I'd say I wasn't happy with him invading Iraq, but I never called him names. I just don't understand the hatred. People in Germany would ask me what I thought of Bush and I'd simply say, "Well, I don't agree with what he's doing, but what can you do? I didn't vote for him."

I didn't vote for Obama in either election, but I've recently decided I'm a Democrat. I don't like Hillary and I doubt seriously I'd actually vote for her, but if Republicans and especially Republicans I consider friends insist on this level of hatred and close mindedness then I am most definitely anti-Republican.

From this day forward Republicans are like the Dallas Cowboys. I don't necessarily like the other team, but I'll root for any team playing against them. There's no place in the great USA for that amount of hatred and drama.

My favorite coach on "The Voice" is Shakira. I think they should get rid of Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. Let them "go get a room" for a season. They should bring in Dee Snider to replace Blake. He'd be a helluva coach! And let Shakira replace Gwen for all that's good and right in the show we adoringly call "The Voice".



Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Confederate Flag Debacle

Recently in the news, there's been an alarming amount of craziness concerning the confederate flag.

You know that my mantra in life is, "walk a mile in their shoes".

If I'm over at a friends house and I'm wearing a yellow shirt and my friend says, "I don't like yellow shirts because it reminds me of the time my favorite dog got killed by a yellow car," I don't wear my yellow shirt any more. In fact, next time I visit, I try to make sure sure I don't represent the color yellow in any way! Because I love my friends and it's easy for me to not offend them.

It's just a flag folks. However, there are some people that it spawns strong emotions for. It's not their fault. It's just the way it is. It's not that big a deal. Take it down and do away with it. It's not that important. Grow some balls and be considerate of your fellow Americans. Love one another.

Peace and love.

I'm on a yellow kick.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Yellow Polka Dot Bikini

Things lately irritate me so much that I can't put my thoughts into rational words. The McKinney Pool Party Debacle is one such event. I mostly blame the media.

People on both sides of the pool are holding up their race cards. On this matter, I've got one cliche to apply to all: "Have you walked a mile in their shoes?" Take race out of it. It's dislike of people for the way they were born. It happens all the time and it'll never stop; until we all have enough empathy to sympathize what other people might be going through.

Since we can't trust the media to tell us the whole truth, we have to take what's given to us. I believe people are fabricating on both sides, but I don't know the truth and I never will. When I watched the video, there were a few things that immediately caught my attention.
  1. I've always been told not to pull out my gun unless I intend to use it. In this case he used it to get two teenagers to back off so he could tackle a girl who was crying for her mom. I wasn't impressed.
  2. If I were in law enforcement (but I'm not because I'm a chicken shit), my reaction to this chaotic scene would have been to find the smallest threat wearing the tiniest bikini and sit on her (with my knees) to try and get things under control. Because that makes all the sense in the world.
  3. Two other policemen walk up and seem to try and calm this cop down. We should be saying thanks.
  4. People are mostly good. Don't let the media fool you.
  5. This cop should not be fired for pulling his gun.

I figure everyone will go off on number 5. I think he learned his lesson without killing anyone which is a miracle. We don't want to discourage good people from being policemen. This guy might have been having a very bad day (have to walk in his shoes). He was in a stressful situation and temporarily lost control. Here again, all hypothetical because I don't know him at all. He may be a complete ass. He certainly appeared that way in the video.

If he gets fired he should get fired for ignoring the athletic boys in their surf shorts who were too big, too fast, and too scary. He instead went after the little girl who may have weighed a buck ten in her little bikini. I'm sure he was scared for his life and trying to defuse a hostile polka dot.

Monday, April 20, 2015

I Think I Work Too Hard

In an effort to increase my blogging and, by accident, my writing skills, I've decided not to think so hard about what I want to blog about.

It's actually kind of funny. I've never quite grasped the usage of the word ironic so I just don't use it. Is it ironic that the reason it's hard for me to come up with blogging ideas is because too many people read my blog? There are some people I don't want reading certain things about my life so I have to carefully pick and choose what I can write about and what I mustn't. So, I just don't write.

At what age is it too late to have a midlife crisis? I'm considering having my second one at the age of 48. Is it okay to have two midlife crisis's? How do you spell crisis's? It's actually crises. That's the word that went thru my head as I was writing, but it looked wrong. I had go look it up. All my life people have been telling me that your initial instincts are usually correct. The Internet has made my ability to double-check myself a debilitating curse. Add that to my list of crises. Check.

The other day I cruised the Durango blogs and realized he's removed the link to my humble page. This is good information. I realize now that 6+ months is too long to go without invoking the Nix of Durango. I'm a little sad. Ghost (Musings From the Lion City) still has me linked though. He's apparently more patient.

The problem with not having ideas is not knowing when to end.


Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Poignant Ponderings (Ode to Allen)

I haven't written in this thing for so long no one reads it anymore. I still look at it as writing practice.

It's also a bit like a diary. A place to write down my thoughts and help me to get over some of my strange mental imaginative mitosis.

About 5 years ago, I told someone, "Man, if you had a vagina, I'd marry you!" It's a bit crude, but crude things happen when you hit the big four oh. I don't have a lot of friends. I have a rather large number of acquaintances through one means or another, but not many friends.

About 4.5 years ago, I met someone who made me feel as comfortable as the above referenced friend and she had a vagina! Really! We talk about everything. We're best friends. We have the same tastes in how to spend quiet evenings. We even listen to the same kind of music (mostly). We love the same vacation spots!

About 1.5 years ago, I married her. Which is probably why my blogging has become scarce. I don't need to write down my thoughts anymore. I finally have someone I can share them with on a daily basis.

Since I met Lisa, we've been talking about opening a bar: "GarLisa's" (I've already purchased the domain name so don't even bother). We always have excuses. A plethora of them: We have to wait for the kids to graduate high school, We have to wait for the kids to graduate college, We have to wait for the next solar eclipse, etc.

It's always something.

Durango first talked me into blogging. He writes a couple of the blogs referenced on the right of this page. Durango kind of "saved" me after my first divorce back in the early 2000 era. It's strange being a socially awkward geek and how certain people come into your life and do some freakishly psycho mumbo jumbo on your tender psyche (like convincing you to get your lovely locks trimmed back from their 80's magnificence). I believe it was from Durango's blog that I found a link to The Whited Sepulchre. I'm not 100% sure of that last fact, but it makes for a slightly more entertaining story (I can't lie -- even in prose).

It was also around this time that I joined the Libertarian Party. I literally paid monthly dues to have my voice in politics. I even ran in an election for a Texas Representative position from Northeast Tarrant County (I got 995 votes which was 5 away from my goal). I'm not cut out to be a politician. My ability to lie is non-existent and I don't even come close to agreeing with the majority of voters. Although I believe I'd do a swell job if given the chance.

It was at my first Libertarian meetup (at Rahr & Sons Brewery) that I met Allen Patterson. He was just one of those "approachable" people. That doesn't sound like much, but when you're as socially awkward and shy as yours truly, people like this are very few and far between. I can count the number I've met on one hand. They are a rare breed. Allen is a rare breed.

According to medical professionals this rare individual has about 18 months to live. If I believed in prayer, I'd pray it's not true. He wrote his "last blog" the other day and it was entitled, "Don't Be Safe". Maybe it's time to try "GarLisa's" on for size. Fuck being safe.