Playing it Close to the Vest.

Here is a news flash... I don't make friends easily. Don't think I ever have.

About two years ago, I lost my last childhood friend. He didn't die or anything, we just went our separate ways, the way that friends often due. This leaves me with no friends that I have made outside of work. And here is the problem with that.

While some of the people I consider friends I hold very dear to my heart, some of them are more of acquaintances. However, it seems that the same problem arises in both situations. Sometimes work crosses into the friendship.

For example, just today I had to tell an employee that I consider a friend no. Seemed pretty simple to me, they asked to do something that I am no longer permitted to let them do (take an extended lunch). Their response was not one of an understanding employee or a supportive friend, but of pestilent child. Every single thing that they ever did for me that was even a step outside the bounds of a normal working relationship was thrown right back in my face. Every calorie burnt giving any extra effort was counted and discussed until I was finally called a two-face and other such glorious names when I did not give in. I naturally did not retun fire, although I have done far more for them than they have for me. Upon there return, I was offered a piece offering of M&M minis and a baby bottle pop, clearly a reference to me being to big of a baby to let them have their way.

This is not an unusual occurrence, however the closer you hold them the more it hurts. So what is a person to do? I get a lot extra out of my people by befriending them. I can say that my people are treated better than anyone elses and often spoiled. In return they work harder not because I ask them to, but because they want to. I feel it is very much like a general mustering his troops to battle. Is this price too much to pay?

This makes me feel very much like I am standing alone on an island, or drifting in a boat that can't be moored. When you manage people you have to do a lot of things that do not sit well with you. I have had to fire countless people, lay people of, discipline people and transfer people to areas where they do not want to go. All of these things are business, and rarely do they put up much fuss. It's hard but bareable because it is not made pesonal. And here, after 6 years, I have got the knife, right in the back, just for saying no.

In my next career, I will have exactly zero sub-ordinates.

Farking Rain

Spring has now officially begun.

Here is your 10 day forcast....

Today Rain
Tomorrow Maybe Rain
Thursday Maybe Rain
Friday Rain
Saturday Rain
Sunday Rain
Monday Maybe Rain
Tuesday Maybe Rain
Wednesday Rain
Thursday Rain

Even if it doesn't rain on the maybe days it is too damn wet to do anything worth while.

There is a silver lining to this cloud. My ex-wife is getting married this weekend, and she has always dreamed of an outside wedding. So she planned herself one.... for Saturday.

All of a sudden, I am a fan of the rain.

Wisdom in a rose garden.

Over the past few weeks I have planted numerous new plants, many of which were roses. I know have 9 rose bushes in my gardens, my favorite being the one by my front porch. This rose did not come from a nursery of a DIY, at least that is not where I got it from. I pinched it from my grandfather's garden five years ago.

This rose bush take a distinguished place in our families horticultural history, along with the birthday iris' of my moms. But to me, there is so much more to it than just being a plant. To me it is a reminder of a wholesome man.

Everytime I pass this rose bush I ask myself, what is the true measure of a man? Is it how much he makes? Is it how many friends he has? Or is it what he has accomplished? And, most importantly, how do I measure up?

I think alot of how great a man you are is how many lives you've positively touched. 2000 years ago a humble carpenter touched the lives of many in profound ways. Although all he touched didn't know him as intimately as they could have, his impact was not diminished.
Roughly 30 years ago another humble carpenter touched our lives, as my grandmother married her second husband. Though his impact was not a wide-spread as the former carpenter, to me is was just as profound.

I did not have a close relationship with him, geography and other things separated us. However, I noticed things about him that I greatly admired even as a child, even more so as a man.

Although he had no children of his own, he loved and cared for those of his wife as if they were his own. The love extended not only to her children, but to her grandchildren too. He was always willing to help anyone who asked and always seemed to see the silver lining in everything. He was also very much the man.

What I admired most about him was his unrelenting work ethic. It didn't matter where he was, if there was something to be done, he would do it or lend a hand. Often while visiting us, he would assume KP, and after a few days would be found in the yard raking leaves or planting trees and flowers. He worked even harder at his own home, which he had built with his father nearly 40 years ago. Through endless renovations, additions and remodels, he worked tirelessly to work on his homestead, even when he fell ill. It is this attribute that I most admire and wish to emulate.

With the 5th anniversary of his passing coming ever nearer, I think not of the rides in his old green GMC, the Vernor's and milk, or his sweet laugh. I think of the love he had for us all. At his funeral, the priest said that he would want us to remember him loving us, but it is we that love me still.

I have figured that the true measure of a man is what is left behind after he is gone. How he is remembered, and will his great grandchildren know him, even though they have never met.

It is not uncommon to love someone who is gone, but it is to be loved in return. He is still dearly missed.

sincerely,

Paul's Grandson

Ode to Motorcycle Boy

Night before last, I finished reading Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I had every intention of picking up the second book in the series and starting it yesterday, alas I failed to get a copy. I was desperate for something to read, so I picked up Rumble Fish.

It was a short book as I finished it in roughly 2 hours, but she sure packed it in there.

I guess her aim was to make you identify with all of the characters, but I surely related to Motorcycle Boy the most. I often feel like I was born in the wrong time, like I should have been wearing armor toting a claymore or pillaging village's with my father the Viking prince. It is hard to distinguish ones self in this day and age.

I can really identify with what his dad said about him, about being able to do anything, but not wanting to do anything. For me it is more like wanting to do much, but the frustration is the same, knowing anything is possible for you, yet nothing ever happens... Well, for the most part.

Like MB, I really don't have too many friends, it takes effort to be one (alot to put up with) an like MB, I am ok with it. There is something very zen about spending a day in the garden alone, or fiddling in the garage. Unlike him though, I don't feel lonely anymore. I used to, but I found that time alone was more precious than gold and now I cherish it.

In all, I would have to say that MB is what I would have been had I not had kids. With no real direction I would have knocked around, doing whatever. I can't really say that I would have made much of myself, a fact that I like to think that I have.

I know this is a book aimed at younger folk, but if you haven't read it you should. It won't take too long and its wood pulp soul food.

Finally the Jones'

After a lifetime of having the worst yard on the block, and being looked down upon for it, the tide has finally turned. Our former cornering neighbors never actually said anything out-right, but you could tell. Aside for a few years when the crazy people moved in next door and brought Paul Bunyan and Red Sanford with them, when we one the low end of the landscaping social ladder.

At our new home, in our new neighborhood, I set the pace. I am the Jones everyone Joneses to keep up with.

Two weeks ago I pressure washed the deck. Since then, neighbors on both sides have done like wise.

For each of the last 3 weekends, I have weeded gardens and planted flowers and transplanted existing flowers to more appropriate homes. Each week, another neighbor joins the hunt.

It could well be that this is just a normal spring in this neighborhood.... But I don't think so. Each time I continue an existing task or begin another one, the neighbors all look at me and I can make out cuss works on their lips. When I go in for a break, they go in for a break. When I come back out, they come back out.

I can't wait until next year, when I have had a full year under my belt and know exactly where everything is planted. Then I will really be dangerous. Just wait until I fix the lawn.. They will be as green as the grass I'll plant with envy.

Perception is 99% of Somebody's Reality

Last week, as I was talking about putting in a veggie garden, my two closest co-workers (geographically) responded in shock. They were surprised that I would have a garden, as I don't seem like the outdoors type. I was equally shocked as I am very much an outside person. Admittedly, I do not hunt, fish or camp, which I guess around here is a disqualification for being an "outdoors" person. Of course, the here people who do those things tell it, I am as in touch with nature at my desk at work than they are while they do them. Fishing from a $20,000 fishing boat that only sees water once a week, "camping" in an air conditioned trailer parked at a camp ground next to a public restroom, and "hunting" 200 yards off a public road covered in designer camouflaged that costs more than the rifle. Maybe I am a purest, but that seems pretty far from what I would consider outdoorsy. Of course, that is my perception.

And that is my point. For example, my sister-in-law has a boyfriend, her first. He will soon be 19, and he may be a hell of a guy, but my impression of him is that he is about as mature as she is, nearly 5 years his junior. The wife likes him, obviously the sister-in-law likes him, but I find myself resentful that he is breathing my air everytime I am around him. I know nothing concrete about him, just my impression of him. In time, as I know more factual things about him I may warm to him, he may be stuck in an awkward time where he is between a man and a boy and may bloom into quite the boy-o.... although I doubt it.

Another good example would be a friend of my sister's that I met. All I ready know about here is that she is a school teacher, a red-head, quite pretty, and has a lotion smoothed hand shake. I assume that she is more Bree than Lynette, but again I am swayed by the performance I saw here give.

So to all this I say to not take someone at your first impression or be disappointed when they are different that you anticipate... unless they are very irritating teenage boys.

The Worst Week of TV history

Attention Directors of Programming: I am your target audience.... Listen to me!

Vince Lombardi said it best. "What the hell's going on here?"

The programming executive at ABC should be fired. I hate to speak poorly of members of the Disney family, but this is crazy. One of my 3 favorite shows has been dealt a sour hand. Boston Legal has had the rest of it's first season "postponed" and will not return until September. That's right, September. Apparently, Grey's Anatomy was supposed to debut in it's time slot, gather a following and move to another time slot, but it is doing so well, the decided to push BL off. It amazes me that with all the garbage they broadcast on the other 6 nights of the week , they couldn't have found a home for BL. This decision sickens me. They will put Dennis Miller on Monday Night football, but won't let BL finish a season. Not to mention The Bachelor, and the other mind-numbing B.S. that fills the colon of primetime TV.

At least Desparate Housewives is back on with new episodes regularly again. Sunday night used to be the feather in ABC's cap. Extreme Makeover Home Edition, DH, then BL. You couldn't beat that. I like Grey's anatomy, but I can't help but sit there and think to myself... "I really don't care what happens". At least Alan Shore was ALWAYS good for witty dialog, the reason I even started watching the damn show in the first place. Look, I have regressed to Boston Legal again.... bastards!

Another poor decision is Dr. Camerons apparent decision to leave House's staff. This simply will not do. I don't mind the tension brought in by adding Vogler to the mix. I like Chi McBride, and I hope that he doesn't 86 this show like he did Boston Public. But, I really like Cameron. I like the subtlty the Hugh Laurie uses to express his feelings for her. I think she really needs to be there when they add Sela Ward as House's ex (supposedly, this will explain his bitterness. I guess he got sick with the leg and she ditched him. If so, ouch). Cameron being in the mix would add a nice element of jealousy on her part and House would get to be torn, what a wonderful sub-plot.
Let's hope the FOX people are not as daft as ABC's.

Speaking of FOX, American Idol's 4th season started off promising, but has turned into another snore-fest. My personal favorite, Bo Bice, lost my backing last night when he was quite indifferent to his inclusion in the bottom 3. As if he didn't care. And as every year, one person has continued to make it through to the next round dispite clearly being a sub-par perfromer. Last year it was the red head John Stevens, this year it is Anthony Federov. Aside from putting on what seems to be 20 pounds in recent weeks, he has not sung a song that I haven't TIVO'd through in a month. It is time America turned him loose. Not to mention that I suspect that Paula is drunk every week during the show. At least I hope she is...

Reflections of Disney

In the wake of our recent DisneyLand vacation, I now see things in a diffrent light.

As I sat of a bench with my youngest who had fell asleep in the stroller, I looked down the bench and saw nothing but dads. I looked around at the other benches, all dads. I actually tried for some period of time to find a mother minding the kids and couldn't find one. Apparently, amusement parks are a sort of bizzaro world. I can't say I minded manning the stroller, my little one was exceptionally good, and I didn't have to wait in lines, but still it seemed odd.

Mickey is a bastard! The biggest racquet in the place, aside from the pins, are the autographs. They have an entire restaurant designed to promote the very thing. Still, what I am talking about is the autographs in the park. You have to buy an autograph book ($8) and a pen, as the characters don't carry one ($4) and wait in line to get the autographs. What makes it harder is that the characters generally move around and only stay in a spot for about 30 minutes. So unless you are in the front of the queue, you are getting no autograph.

Still, it was our goal to get all the major characters autographs, and we managed to, except Mickey. We devided and conquered. The wife and kids went into line to get Minnie's signature, while I hustled over to get in line for Mickey. As they were about to clear Minnie's line, I was only about 2 people away from Mickey... it would have been perfect timing. Just then the unthinkable happened, he left. Just picked up cheese and walked away. The bastard, so his was the only major autograph we didn't get.

Still, it was fun though... at least I didn't have to wait in line.