Hell of a Guy
Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed. - George Burns

Monday, March 30, 2009

Hospitals…The Waiting Game


I am sitting in a waiting room at UHC Hospital in Clarksburg. West Virginia.  The Nancy’s dad is having hip replacement surgery today.  In fact, he is in surgery at this very moment sound asleep.  I don’t like hospitals, and I do not like being in one for any reason, but this is special, and I am here for a special guy.

You would absolutely fall in love with The Nancy’s dad if you met him.  Joe is a simple guy, one of the most down-to-earth, laid back guys I have ever met.  He is gentle and loving, especially around children.  Everybody loves Joe. It would be very hard for me to imagine anyone in this world doesn’t like this man, he is that nice.

Sitting here with my mother-in-law listening to her describe Joe getting dressed to come to the hospital this morning, and her apparent displeasure with his choices.  Joe doesn’t worry about impressing people.  Joe dresses for Joe, and to him it is all about comfort. 

He had a ball cap on that had a little grime around the band…well, more like a lot of grime.  He also selected some work pants with a little paint on them…well, more like a lot of paint.  Kate had to add an adamant “but they were clean.”  She also made sure he had on clean underwear, but I bet he really learned that from his mother. 

Joe will be in surgery and recovery for another two and half hours.  Knowing Joe, I will bet with a couple of weeks he will be along side a stream somewhere with a fishing rod in his hands.  Nothing will keep Joe down, and thank God for that.  If the world had more men like Joe there would be a hell of lot less BS going down.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Thursday, March 26, 2009

A Conundrum…320 or 684?


The numbers above are of great importance to me.  Both represent important milestones in my life.  I think about both almost every day, sometimes even more often.  These numbers are of a huge importance to me because they both change on a daily basis, so important that I keep a counter for each on my desk top.  Fortunately, both get smaller every day, and that makes me smile.

What are they you ask?  The lower number is the number of days to my 66th birthday, the day I reach the age I can draw full Social Security.  The higher number is the number of days to my 67th birthday, and I have told at least a thousand people I hope to work until I reach my 67th.  Well, even though I know a number of my co-workers read this, a few more days like yesterday and this one, and I may not make it another thirty. 

I don’t know what it is these days but a lot of what comes my way seems to be nothing more than bullshit and crap, and I don’t like it.  I grow more tired of the whining, the accusations, the pettiness, the inconsistencies, the conniving, the circumventing, the self-centeredness, and all the other shit that people come up with.  Why can’t people just do what is right?  You know, work hard, take responsibility for your actions and don’t do anything your grandmother wouldn’t approve of.

I am tiring of being pulled in fifty different directions (which I have no doubt I have caused and take full responsibility for) and not being able to go tell everyone to fuck off.  Now you must realize by being the consummate professional that I am, I wouldn’t do that, but don’t push me, and if you do, I may just give you that look that will let you know exactly what I am thinking.

Gee, I feel better now.  All that ranting and raving has relieved my stress.  If all goes well I will work for another 684 days, but there is a chance (Boss, if you read this know it is just be a joke, maybe) I will say at the end of a mere 320 days on February 9, 2010, “Adios!” and ride off into the winter sunset.  I don’t know what this will depend on, but I think it will have to do with what kind of day February 9th will be.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Tuesday, March 24, 2009



Thank God for smokers.  Just the other day I stopped by the gas station, oddly enough to purchase petrol for my car.  While there, I ducked inside to buy a drink for me and a USA Today for The Nancy.  The drink was to quench my thirst, and the paper was so The Nancy would have the cross-word puzzle to do so she would not have to talk with me.

As I stepped up to the counter to pay for my stuff, the lady there excused herself and she quickly darted into a back room.  She was only MIA for a few seconds, but while she was gone I happen to notice all the cigarettes on shelves on the wall behind the counter.  It has been a very long time since I bought cigarettes, so long in fact, I didn’t really have any sense what they now cost.  I was taken aback at the prices - Marlboro at $4.09 a pack, and Virginia Slims at $5.09 a pack, to name a few.

I told the lady the last time I bought cigarettes I paid $1.50.  I was in the Air Force, and the buck and a half bought the whole carton, 15 cents a pack.  As I said $5.00 a pack ought to be enough to make everyone quit, she just stared at me like I was an idiot, and about the time I noticed her badly nicotine stained fingers she said, “That’s not too bad.”

If you are a smoker you have to know the US Government does not want you to quit.  Smoking is one of the Feds best rackets.  It is about the best Cash Cow the government has.  In fact, it would not surprise me to find out there is some clandestine agency whose sole job it is to get kids hooked on nicotine…maybe they put it in baby formula or Mountain Dew.  I notice an awful lot of kids smoking these days, and just cannot help but wonder with all we know of the effects of lighting up, why would any intelligent human being still indulge in such a filthy habit?  And having said that, I may have backhandedly answered my own question.

With this personal side note to all smokers who might read this: Please, don’t quit, ever.  Keep on smoking.  Maybe increase your usage of tobacco products to two three packs a day?  You will get to enjoy your smokes, and don’t worry you might damage your health, and get that raspy, deep smokers voice, and prematurely age your skin.  Don’t be concerned that you will, like a lot of smokers before you, probably die long before you develop any really serious cancers or emphysema, and more importantly know as long as there are idiots who continue to smoke the Government will not raise taxes on my beer.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Friday, March 20, 2009

Spring 2009


It is official, at least it was here on the east coast at 7:44 this morning, Spring has sprung, and it permeates the air.

Spring is my most favorite time of the year.  As I have said in previous posts, this is the season of renewal in nature, and it is a time of renewal for me.  As my grass and the fields around The Farm begin to green and the buds on the trees begin to burst forth, this old boy gets to renew himself, also.  I get to look at me and ask myself if I am who I really am and who I am meant to be.  I get to take a good look in the mirror and search my soul.  Self introspection is a good thing. 

Too many of us want to put our misery on the shoulders of someone else – sort of like politicians.  We tend not to want to take responsibility for our actions.  A few years ago I adopted being fully responsible for what happens to me in my life.  Damn, if it doesn’t just make life so much easier.  No one else is to blame for the stupid shit I do.  No one else is to blame for my health issues.  No one else is to blame for cutting me off on the road.  No one else is to blame for my inadequacies.  No one else is to blame when things at work go wrong.  No one else is to blame for things not getting accomplished.  No one else is to blame for my colds and flu.  I am fully responsible for what happens to me in my life, I do not point the finger at anyone, and this is the time to renew it.

And that is all I have to say about that…

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