Hell of a Guy
I find that the harder I work, the more luck I seem to have. - Thomas Jefferson

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Tempus Fugit…


I just noticed my last post was almost two weeks ago.  Tempus Fugit, the Latin for “time flees” but more commonly translated as “time flies,” does exactly that. 

Funny, when you think of it, but there really is no “time.”  Time is an invention of mankind.  There is no time in nature, there just is.  We humans like to discuss the future, and what is to be, and then we dwell in the past of what was.  Both what is to be and what was is totally irrelevant to what is.  Make sense!  Bottom line, dwell only on what is now, and that is where tempus fugit because the now is ever changing, and that leaves my head spinning.

I am now in Charleston, West Virginia at a conference.  The now finds me in my room writing BS to put on this website now so you all don’t feel as if I have forgotten you.  It is a gorgeous day here; the best day ever.  The sun is bright and the sky is full of fluffy, white clouds, meandering across it.  The Nancy is in a meeting, and God only knows where the housekeeper has been all day – this room is a mess.

The Nancy and I are reminiscing about how we first met here in this hotel in 1989, though we did not become an item until 1993.  Here I go, being in the now and living in the past.  Old habits are very hard to break.

And that is all I have to say about that…

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

My Attitude…


I am a happy guy and I know it is nothing more than my attitude.  It does not take a whole lot of anything to make me happy, a nice cold beer can do that; however, there are a few things I must do each day to keep me in this mode.

1. I must begin each day declaring “This will be the best day ever.”  That doesn’t take lot effort but it puts the proper perspective into play, and it can be done verbally or mentally.  Screaming it is the best.  For this I owe my granddaughter Vivienne, who says it but does not always mean it.
2. I have to say to someone other than The Nancy, “I love you.”  I get to tell The Nancy “I love you” many times each and everyday, but it just makes me feel good to let others know how I feel about them.  Regardless of what you think, we are all connected, one Soul.
3. I need to make someone, especially someone I do not know, smile.  It makes me feel as though if they smile I may be changing their attitude, at least for a little while.
4. I need to do something nice for someone else.  Call it a random act of kindness, if you wish, but just something by going a little bit out of my way.  This makes me smile.
5. I need to flirt with a child, but I don’t always see them each and every day. 
6. And I have to end my day by thanking The Nancy for being my wife.

I think by accepting everything in my life as my life, and my life as good, how could anything be bad.  This may puzzle you, but it makes life easier for me.  I accept sickness and death as part of life.  I accept tragedy as part of life.  I accept problems as part of life.  Moreover, I accept full responsibility for how I am, and I am happy.

In the movie “The Little Big Man” the old Indian chief tells Little Big Man (Dustin Hoffman), “It is a good day to die.”  I loved that line.  It says a lot about attitude.

We all ask people how they are, whether we care or not.  Most of us ask this just to be nice, something to say.  People ask me that and I reply, “If I were any better I’d be twins.”  Sometimes I add, “It’s just another day in Paradise.”  And if I am really feeling good about my best day ever I may add, “Hell, I had such a great day yesterday, I decided to do it over again today.”  It is funny how many times people will look up at me and smile…and that makes my day!

On this best day ever I am flying to Louisville.  Below me are the clouds and the rain.  Above is a ubiquitous, cloudless blue sky illuminated by the Sun having its best day ever.  All is right with the world and with me.  It is a good day to die.

And that is all I have to say about that. 

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Hell of a Guy Goes XXX


In this piece I will get graphic, stooping to the lowest of the low, and dropping “f-bombs” like rose petals at a summer wedding.  If you are offended by bad language and especially the word “f-u-c-k,” now is the time for you to X out of this website.  I am sorry and apologize for offending you, but…. 

The Nancy and I are sitting at the bar in one of our favorite Saturday afternoon venues, The Sweetwater Grille in Sterling, Virginia.  This is a rectangular shaped bar and we are sitting in the middle of one of the long sides.  Across the bar and near the front corner is a guy who obviously to me is a regular there, he is speaking to the bar tender.  I hear him say something and I did not catch it all, but what I did hear is something on the order of “This fucking job.”  Hmmm!  I begin to let this meander through my medulla oblongata.  “This fucking job” conjures up all kinds of thoughts and scenarios.  What if there was a Fucking Job?  Suppose someone was hired just to fuck?  Think of it?  What a great job!!!

The ad reads: “Man needed for a real fucking job.  Are you a good fucker?  No experience needed; however, successful applicant must furnish own working equipment and know the long and short of its operating potential.  Shift work, odd hours.  Will be on call 24/7, and be willing to learn the ins and outs of this fucking business from the ground floor up.  If you think you can rise to the occasion, and be up for an interview, come see us and show us what you got.”

The material on this could be endless -

“Hi, I am Hell-of-a-Guy, and I doing the fucking job for you.”

“Honey, I am so tired of this fucking job.”

“If I have to do this fucking job one more day I am going to throw up.”

“I put in eight full hours at my fucking job today.  I am fucked out.”

“I am so glad I don’t have to do this fucking job this weekend.”

“I made a lot of overtime on my fucking job this week.”

“I really fucked up today! This fucking job is killing me”

And this could by my favorite, “This economy has affected my fucking job.  I just got ‘laid off’.”

And that is all I have to say about that…


Sunday, April 05, 2009

My Cave…


I suppose every guy has a cave of some sort, and not necessarily a physical one.  Some guys resort to golf, some go fishing.  Others may have a motorcycle or even a bicycle to get away from it all.  Some may bury themselves in books or sports on TV.  Still, others may have a room or a place within their homes where they can go to be alone.

Me, I have a beer fridge.  I have decided it is my cave.  It is where I go when I need to do something just for me; to do something that gives me immense pleasure, almost sexual.  Almost nothing says satisfaction to me as much as a beer I love.  The photos in this piece are of my beer fridge, my cave.  It is stocked at the present time with about six cases, a mere 144 bottles of beer.  The menu includes Fisherman’s IPA, Stoudt’s Double IPA, Wild Goose IPA, Dogfish Head 60 Minute, Bass Pale Ale, Ayinger Celebrator (A Douplebock), Smuttynose IPA, Bell’s Two Hearted Ale, and Troegs’s Hop Back Amber Ale, all of this also known as the good stuff.


Now I should make note there is some beer in the fridge that will never see my throat, those being Bud Light and Miller Light.  These are beers I serve to company.  Most people who visit The Farm have little idea what real beer is and are more than happy to drink mass produced industrial swill.  Luckily for me, the cheap crap is also cheap crap, meaning it does not break my budget to keep it around for a couple of years until someone comes along to drink it.


All this talk about caves has given me a hankering for some spelunking.  It is time for me wish to you a fond adieu as I secret off to my cave and a good IPA, maybe two.

And that is all I have to say about that…