John, A Story...

John was an old man. He may not have appeared old, but in his soul he felt as though he was a thousand years old. Daily he would look into the bathroom mirror slowly shaving the thick graying stubble from his lined face and see that father time was catching up to him. It was as if John were aging from the inside out. No longer able to contain the old man within, it was starting to seep out and engulf his outer person.

Today John sat in his favorite chair. A large wing backed, black leather chair worn down from the years of his body weight applying pressure to it. "I am this chair," he thought comically. John smiled at this statement. His rough hands gently caressed the leather arm rests, feeling the small cracks and nicks that a chair like this gets after so many years of use. Many nights John would sit here with nothing but the orange glow of the fire burning in the fireplace; drinking his bourbon and contemplating his life. The good. The bad. The times when he felt nothing at all. The times where he wished he felt something other than the warmth the liquor gave him in the pit of his stomach. Tonight was one of those nights.

When people spoke of John they would say the same thing over and over again. What a beautiful family. What a blessed life you have. I wish I were in your shoes. John would always smile and nod in acceptance of their compliment, for to do otherwise would be rude and John was never rude. He took a sip from his glass and looked up at the pictures hanging above the fireplace mantle. "My beautiful family." he said with a smile. There were many pictures hanging there. All of various sizes and in differently shaped frames arranged in a pattern that was visually pleasing to all that entered this room. He took another sip and looked back at the pictures. The flickering light given by the flames reflecting off the windows gave an almost strobe light effect. "My beautiful family." he said again, but this time was ended with a catch in his throat. John could feel the tears welling over his eyes and his sinuses starting to tickle. He cleared his throat and took another sip from his glass.

John was not a bad man, nor was he a good man. Depending on his state of mind at the time he could be one of the most compassionate, caring individuals you would ever meet. On the other hand there were times he could be cruel, and hurtful. Mostly to the ones who loved him most. John spoke words to those he loved most that would hurt and often make them cry. Words that he could never take back, nor repair the damage that they have done. He regretted those times the most. He never understood why he said them. He knew the consequences of his actions, and yet, he still said them. "Why?" he whispered to the empty room.

The bourbon was warming and gave him the clarity he needed. John took another sip and laid his head back into the chair. His head rolled to the left and stared at the antique mahogany vanity sitting across the room. The large oval mirror on top of it reflected his image in the chair in front of the slowly dying light of the fire. "I'm getting old." he said with a smile touching his lips. His gaze moved from the mirror down to the drawer beneath the table top. "I wonder if you're still in there Winona." he whispered.

John finished what was left in the glass in one loud gulp, and let it fall to the floor where it shattered. As he stood both knees popped and creaked like the floors of some old barn. He walked towards the vanity letting his right hand move over the top of the chair feeling the softness of the leather, and then lowered it to his side. He let out a sigh as he opened the drawer revealing the object that was so much a part of his life for so long, so many years ago. He still gazed upon it as the most beautiful thing he had ever seen of it's kind. Perfect. Flawless. He reached into the drawer with his right hand a reverently picked up Winona and brought it up to left hand. Holding the gun before him he could tell. just as he always could, that there were fifteen rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. "Beautiful." he whispered. With his right thumb he pushed a button and ejected the loaded magazine deftly catching it with his left hand. "Don't need this." he said aloud as he gingerly placed the full magazine back into the drawer.

John closed the the vanity drawer with his left hand, and walked slowly back across the room and stood in front of the fireplace. Winona still in his right hand hanging by his side. The fire in the fireplace was nearly out. Just a few flames jumped from the embers every now and again bringing flashes of orange into his sight. He looked up at the pictures of his beautiful family. Taking time to study each picture. Each person. He slowly recalled each instance the picture was taken. One was a vacation. One on a white sandy beach. Another in the backyard in the pool. John smiled at this.

"My beautiful family." John whispered to the empty room.

Life..

I always imagined that I would have a greater destiny. That I would leave this world in a manner that I could be proud of. That my family to look back on and be proud of their father and husband. No, maybe not a greater destiny, but more meaningful. I thought that sacrificing one's own life for another would be the most important act a human could perform for another. In a way I still beleive that. Want that.

The past ten years of my life I thought I would meet my end in the most honorable way I could envision. To die working for the company. Getting my name added to the memorial like the other men and women that died for the company. Something that other future generations would pass and look upon with respect.

I've always wanted to help people. Even as a child growing up in the slum trailer parks of Kentucky I wanted to help those that could not help themselves. I could see clearly the dangers in becoming passive to one's own environment. I wanted to change my destiny; the path that was carved out before me. I did change that, and in a way, I did not.

Now as another birthday slowly closes in I find myself standing outside in the darkness looking up into the sky. Searching the star filled moonless night for some hope of a future. Hoping for a revelation. For a purpose with what little time I have left here.

Too Much TV...

I gotta turn the TV off. Over 300 digital satellite channels and the only thing on is Tropic Thunder. I know that I have watched it at least 8 times from beginning to end. Add on three or four more just in bits and pieces for the good parts. Don't get me wrong this movie is ef'n hilarious. Everyone did a great job in this movie especially Jack Black's character "Jeff" going through DT's half way through. I knew I had watched it too much when A came in and said, "What? Again with this movie?" So I turned it off. I wonder if it's on later?

Lazy Day..

Today was one of those days where you decide first thing after your morning cup of coffee that today you will do absolutely nothing. This past weekend was filled with two days of yard maintenance due to the storm last month. Trying to find someone to remove a couple of large branches from your house is harder than you'd think. So after a month I decided to do it on my own.

I mowed my mother-in-law's exceptionally hilly/tree filled yard in order to get to the chainsaw that she had. Now never having used a chainsaw before I think I did rather well. I was apprehensive at first having heard numerous stories about the "kick-back" a chainsaw will do at times. I just pictured myself as Leatherface and went to town on the branches. As my confidence grew so did my inattention to minor details.

After sawing everything down I started moving all the pieces to the wood line. The last log was pretty big and would require all my strength to move it. So I positioned myself over the log gripping it and prepared to heave it up. As soon as I picked it up I was struck with a pain that brought me to my knees immediately. As I sat cradling my junk I saw the culprit. A portion of branch stood out just enough that it caught my left testicle perfectly. The pain was immense, but I still couldn't help but laugh through the pain at what just occurred.

After the clean up I sat back and watch the kids play. A nice breeze was blowing due to the stornm front moving in. Sitting on the back porch drinking a beer and listening to the banter of my children brought a smile to my face. It reminded me of my childhood. No worries. No real concept of time; merely living in the present for all it's worth. These are the times that make everything worth while.

Last Sunday...

Like any other Sunday afternoon I wandered into the bedroom and planted myself in front of the computer. It's my maintenance day every week. A time to check for spy ware, viruses, and clear unwanted emails/history/cookies, etc. What I did not expect to find an email from a cousin on my *father's family. (*see post.)

She informed me of how she had been looking for me over the years, and through the magic of the intra-net, she found me. She went on to inform me of other family members and what they "did." I listened and rambled on in a state of shock. I was ill prepared to take on this level of responsibility so early in the day.

Eventually the major reason for contacting me was in the case of my father. Apparently physically sick with an illness that no one could say exactly what, but the point was "he was not going to be around much longer." I playfully said something like "technically no one is going to be around much longer." So after many phone conversations and many more emails I decided to make contact with him. After all what did I have to lose? Right?

So I made a phone call to my father's cell phone. Nothing. I left a voice mail informing him of who I was and the number to call me back. Nothing. I called a few more times until I received another email from the cousin. This time she said that he was too scared to talk to you. What? What happened to all the talk about him wanting to talk to me? She didn't have an answer. She went on to explain that his being in Viet Nam and the years of not living a healthy lifestyle has left him unsure of himself. I replied that I had fulfilled my end of the bargain, and that we should stay in touch. "Don't give up on him" is all she replied.

I don't see why this has to be so difficult for other people. It's like they just can't understand how someone can go on without knowing a parent. I've lived with this for many decades and put it behind me years ago. I'm everything my mother and father aren't. I pride myself on that. I told A that if he calls. That's cool. If not. Nothings changed. I can live with it.

iPod Repeat...

Foo Fighters - Everlong

Way too much driving back and forth over long distances this past week. Luckily my iPod seems to know what I need to keep me occupied during the commute. I love the Foo Fighters. I love this song. In fact I think it's probably one of the best written love songs. Enjoy.

Television Night..

I've been enjoying my relatively quiet week of solitude. A time free of small children and husbandly duties leaving me with the freedom of reliving my bachelor days. It's nothing spectacular. All you need is a steady diet of pizza, Coronas, and Cokes and you've got my week. Add a wardrobe consisting of nothing more that my favorite t-shirt and boxers and you'd be home.

Last night while channel surfing through the endless collection of summer scheduling crap, I found Real Sex on HBO. Now if you are not familiar with this documentary on human sexuality, and insanity, I highly suggest you watch a couple. For simply by doing so you will both cringe and laugh at all these crazy shenanigans our society dabbles in. Mostly the participants are the much older, white, hairy, bad naked types that want to be seen sexually. Even though most don't want to see them in this manner.

The first part was a piece on a lady that instructs anal sex seminars for people. I must say that the self proclaimed "Queen of Anal" was impressive. She stated she had everything from a pinkie to a fist in her ass. She had a wide array of toys, strap-ons, and lubricants that she had her "life partner" pack up and inventory before each class. That's quite a resume.

But who am I to judge or to point fingers and laugh at some one's fetish? No my dear reader I did not. Not even a chuckle was uttered when the very "healthy" lady wearing the 12 inch strap on viciously plowing the hell out of her husband's ass. No I reserved all this for the reporter who awkwardly walked around the room asking questions at a time that was obviously disruptive and uncomfortable for all. A reporter dedicated, but also scared shitless at what he was witnessing before him. I secretly wished that he returned to his magazine with a form of post traumatic stress disorder that left him totally unable to perform sexually ever again.

After that I fully regained the memory of why I stopped watching this program, and turned the channel. Visions of what I've seen seared into my head. I was scared.

The Neighbors...

A new family has moved into the neighborhood. The house they moved into has sat empty for nearly a year, then one day there were people there. Other than seeing the garage door open with, or without, a vehicle is the only clue you would have that anyone even resides there. I know vague details picked up only by seeing them coming and going. Obviously a single mother with at least four children, possibly five. The children range in age from nine to fourteen, yet I've never seen any of them playing outside. Strange.

We have two other neighbors in our Cul de Sac. One house lives a single lady who is a nurse that works nights. So we never see her. The other house has a couple much like my wife and I. He works in iron and she has late hours at the bank. We don't have a friendship per se, but out of the two we are the friendliest to them. What's my point? Glad you asked. I have always wanted that The Burbs type of close neighborhood. Everyone is overly friendly and fake, but keep within the personal boundaries. A place where you can borrow tools from your neighbor and then never return them. I would be that guy.

This morning I woke up, grabbed a cup of coffee, a smoke and went outside on the back porch. Since the tree is still on our house I decided to walk around the yard. As I stared out into the surrounding woods I felt that eerie feeling when you are being watched. I turned and found two of the new neighbor's kids staring out their window at me. It wasn't a sneaky, but more of a blatant unblinking Children of the Corn kind of way. I blew it off and walked back inside.

Now every time I venture outside I find them watching me from the large window on the front of their house. It's not so much as scary, but creepy. The most contact I've had with their mother was a wave as she drove by. Even then she glared at me like I was a white devil, but quickly smiled when I waved at her. Maybe they have never seen white people before, or they've had a negative experience involving a caucasian leaving them keep their distance. Who knows. Fortunately I'm not the best neighbor either, and rarely go out of my way to be "neighborly." So I guess it could be suggested that it is as much my fault as my neighbors. Hmm. Maybe.

Shock and Awe....

Life never ceases to amaze me. I know this is a total cliche, but I can't help but stand in total shock at how this short life time can sometimes kick a leg out from under you and send you sprawling into the dirt. Laughing. Nothing is predictable. I know this now, and realize that God has a weird sense of humor.

Yesterday started as any other day now that classes are over for the summer. I woke up early and headed off to work with my father-in-law. A attended a doctor's appointment due to some pain she had been having for a few months. All was well in Zombie-boy land.

A called me late in the afternoon asking me how my day was and when I would be expected home. I could tell there was a tense catch in her voice. She stated that everything went well at the doctor's office, and that they were going to have to do a few more tests, which she stated we would discuss when I got home. This is not out of the ordinary due to some minor medical issues she has. I thought nothing more about it.

I finished a project and returned to my father-in-law who stated, "A's pregnant. She's too scared to tell you." Being a group of men we constantly bust each other's balls especially when we know of a sore subject with that person. Babies are mine. I dismissed it, but he kept on. I finally told him that I was getting pissed and to back off.

I immediately called A who confirmed the diagnosis. 15 weeks along and it's a girl. Holy shit was the only thing going through my head. I couldn't believe it. I'm still in shock over it, but the reality of it all has finally cemented in my head and acceptance followed closely behind. We had decided after Jack that there would be no more babies. We needed sleep. Needless to say we are both in the same state of confusion. Fear. More diapers, bottles, non-existent sleep. The salad years.