Hit me again Ike...and put some stank on it...

Hit me again Ike…and put some stank on it: So here we go…the rant of the week. This past Saturday, I was almost certain that I was going to go off on Soccer moms and piss poor planned sports parks. I even took my trusty digital voice recorder to the soccer fields to take notes in order to capture every single detail of the Old Navy fashion show that is Saturday morning soccer. Suddenly…things happen, I get emotional and pissed off, and the change occurs. This week, I’m going to dive into the personal lives of my wife and I and set something straight once and for all. First of all…I need to take you back twenty glorious years to the late eighties to explain where we’re coming from. Next to the fountain in our beloved indoor flea market aka the Crossroads Mall…I met a young girl that blew my mind. Granted, she was too young for there to be any kind of love interest but she was cool nonetheless. For years after that, we were almost inseparable as friends. Suddenly, life happened, we both lost track of each other, and the two of us married other people. No big deal, right? After all…there were no feelings involved…or were there? A couple of years later, we ran into each other unexpectedly and, ironically, I was going through a divorce. I confessed my undying love for the girl…and it went absolutely nowhere. She was in a relationship and I was two steps behind. A few months later, I left for the military and was almost certain that the two of us were something that was never meant to be. I knew I loved her with all of my heart but accepted the fact that I was never meant to be with the girl of my dreams. I don’t want to bore you with the details of the next few years so I’ll allow you to fill in the blanks. After that however, with another divorce looming on the horizon, we became a part of each other’s lives once again by chance and the friendship of our youth was rekindled…with one minor detail standing in the way. She had recently gotten married again. Accepting the truth that this was definitely something that was never meant to be, as though all the other signs throughout the years wasn’t enough, I accepted the fact that any type of romantic involvement was totally out of the question and, instead, just enjoyed the comfort and company of my long lost friend again. Then…things turned horribly sour and certain truths came out. She began showing up to my place battered, bruised, and scared out of her mind because the douche she was tied to turned out to be a dope dealing woman beater with a computer full of kiddy porn that was way more important than the beautiful woman that sat before me in confession. A couple of violent instances later, I barged through his front door in an angry rage informing him that my best friend no longer lived with him. He didn’t even put up a fight…although he takes great pride in convincing total strangers that he almost decapitated me screaming towards the heavens ‘There can be only one!’ Long story short, rescue, recovery, romance and now here we are happily married with those bad experiences being nothing more but an occasional nightmare in the deep, dark night. The reason that I chose to rant on this subject is that someone else I know has gotten involved in a relationship with the guy…regardless of the times that she has heard the story of my wife’s near death experiences as well as the guys next wife’s near death experiences plus all the girlfriends in between. First question to the masses…was I wrong in interrupting my wife’s marriage in order to keep her from possibly dying? In my defense, she was my best friend that followed me throughout my worldly travels in my heart and soul and I couldn’t stand to sit back and watch horrible things happen to her. Second question…would you have done the same thing or just sat back and let things play out? Finally…is it just me or do some women just enjoy putting themselves in danger on purpose? Honestly…I guess I just don’t care anymore what happens to this guy or anyone else he’s involved with. Sometimes, pain is the best teacher of them all…otherwise some of us wouldn’t spank our children when we were attempting to teach them a lesson. I stood face to face with this demon and won my prize hands down…although it wasn’t an easy task. There are aspects of her personality that will be fractured forever due to the abuse she took and there’s no amount of support in the world that will ever make them truly whole again. Also, when I think back on all the time I’ve spent over the past few years contemplating this guy’s demise…I wonder how else I could’ve used that time for constructive things? To add insult to injury…the dope dealing, wife beating, child porn king extraordinaire works for the newspaper that I so desperately wish to write for but I guess I can’t let that bother me either. Those are traits that you just don’t want added to your resume. What I’ve slowly realized over the years is that I’ve let this guy become my personal demon, driving anger deep within my soul that will probably be nearly impossible to extract and drive out. It was a close call but I saved the one that really mattered to me. Just as I’ve told my children…the pathway has been laid before us and we’re the ones that have to choose the direction we will walk. You can’t save the world, Chad…you can’t save the world. It’s time to stop trying. Besides…if I could…we’d have no one to watch on Springer, Wilkos, and Maury. Was this truly a rant…or was it a confession from the remnants of my tattered soul? Evil is real and it walks among us…putting our newspapers together while we sleep in our comfortable beds awaiting its morning message. When you’re done reading it with darkened fingers…is it the ink rubbing off…or the blackness of his soul seeping out of his body reaching out to each and every one of us? I release you, demon, to haunt me no more. And people wonder why I only read the online version of the paper…

He said...she said...but it's not polite to talk with your mouth full...

There are some groups of individuals out there that swear human beings evolved from animals. If this is indeed the case, then there are some of us that have forgotten our roots altogether. If you watch animals closely…and no, I don’t mean in a perverted type of way where some guy goes to the zoo in a trench coat and you can never quite see where his hands are when he visits the primate house…they never seem to go to the bathroom anywhere near where they eat. Now, there are exceptions to the rule such as when you place them in a habitat that is too small and they have no choice…but as long as you afford them the space they deserve, they absolutely never do an outtake where an intake is performed. Using this analogy…you can compare it to your workplace easily. Never crap where you consume…and never get your mistress where you make your money. I’ve told people this time and time again but they never seem to listen to me. Once…and only once in my lifetime full of adventures…I decided to pick a girlfriend at the same place I worked. At first, it was absolutely wonderful but it later appeared that I had made several enemies for stepping in before any of them had the courage to approach her. Excuse me for having the courage/stupidity to be able to speak to women without fear! After I left for the military, it wasn’t long before I received the inevitable ‘Dear John’ letter due to the fact that all of my enemies had decided to approach her and take turns being ‘me’. I’m sure they never quite stepped up to the task…but the fact of the matter is that they all tried. When my military days were over and I returned to work…imagine the awkwardness for them and the pleasure for me during the confrontation. Luckily…it was an aerospace plant and there are tons of places to hide. I guess, in all honesty, it comes with time and experience. Wisdom over knowledge. In my current employment, I have been accused over the years for being stuck up and unsociable by all the young people that seem to come and go like the White Star cruise ships in a field of icebergs. Ironically along the lines of Titanic…everyone seems to want to draw everyone else naked with a big honking diamond around their neck! Some people accuse my success as a published author as the culprit but in all reality…it’s my ability to stay strong in a sea of stupid. Seven long years have placed me near the top of the seniority food chain…but it wasn’t easy. I’ve seen them come and I’ve seen them go. Most times, I don’t even bother learning their names. When you work in a place like I do there is an extremely high turnover rate. The reasoning for most of it is that some people can’t see and deal with the things that an officer experiences daily without going home and drinking themselves into a coma. Most of them, however, go buck wild with power when they pin the badge upon their chest and think that they’re untouchable. Parties turn to orgies and girlfriends get distributed amongst the guys like a Sunday morning collection plate. As of late, I decided that I was tired of the ‘holier than thou’ accusations and began to socialize a bit with a few of the newer officers…perhaps even thinking for a microsecond that my acquired wisdom would somehow rub off on them. Unfortunately, wisdom wasn’t what these people were in the business of rubbing and I soon found myself caught up in the rumor mill and ‘in the know’ of a world that I was certain I’d left many years ago. The next thing I know, I’m being called to the carpet in front of the three floating people from the Bill and Ted movies…and my air guitar impressions weren’t beginning to distract them. They wanted answers. One of the main rats on the sinking ship of justice was dunking everyone else involved under the water in an attempt to build a makeshift raft out of their drowning carcasses…and decided to drop the one name that threw them all for a loop upon its utterance. Mine. Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, I filled them in on a world of nastiness that I had never seen with my own eyes and only heard about through random breaks in the monotony of the daily grind. Why do they always come to me to die? I owed no one any loyalty whatsoever but, in the end, it’s going to make for some tension amongst some of the people I work with. It’s also not the best of ideas to stab a writer in the back just to save your own skin…because he’ll post your dilemma all over the internet to where every grandma and their dog can see what a nasty prostitute you’ve been. Wait a sec…retraction…prostitutes make a profit on their extracurricular activities. If you give it away like fortune cookies at a Chinese restaurant…it’s called ‘whoring around’. In the end…and not to quote Fred Durst because he’s any type of intelligent saint…it was all about the he said/she said BS and we all went about our daily lives as if nothing happened. Like the life lessons with animals…these people also forgot one of the first rules we learn as human beings also. He might have said this…and she might have said that…but it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full. Never defecate where you devour. Imagine the consequences if you confuse the two substances…

Feb 15th 2011

To begin things off, I’d like to tell a little story about why I’m doing this. Once upon a time, there was an editor of a newspaper that saw potential in a young writer. With three novels under his belt and his own monthly column in a magazine, he though he’d be perfect for a weekly rant column in the local publication. As luck would have it however, the editor left the organization and a new one took his place. Still riding on the promise from the previous editor, the young writer contacted the new editor with the hopes that he would keep the former editor’s promise. The response the writer got was ‘You’ll have to learn to write about something other than ghosts.’ And so I shall. Unfortunately for a lot of you, this week’s edition is of a local nature…so anyone who was hoping like crazy that I would go off on the President or something along those lines is going to be highly disappointed. Besides, that job comes open every four years and all citizens are more than welcomed to apply. The man is doing the best job he can do with the tools provided…which aren’t the sharpest ones in the shed. No, this weeks rant will be stuffed full of feelings for my local community and those that were elected to keep it safe. It would appear as though a certain individual no longer employed by our beloved law enforcement agency still has some sensitive feelings about his former employer. So, rather than just swallow his thorny pride and use it as a learning experience, he chooses to use his influence in the media to twist and turn certain events into scandalous wrongdoings. A group of men came to the aid of a coworker in dire need of assistance and somehow it was chewed up, swallowed, and then regurgitated into a story of abused manpower. When that didn’t work to his advantage, he chose to file suit against his former employer about being terminated for advertising the characteristics of a shady character amongst illuminated individuals. Now what you, my beloved reader, have to keep in mind is that there are always two, sometimes three, sides to every story and you have to take what is read here with a grain of salt and make up your own minds for yourselves. The one fact in this entire scenario is that there were accusations made against someone. Hint of the day children: If you don’t want to be accused of certain things…don’t put yourself in precarious situations where those certain things can be tied to you. Pretty easy, huh? What you don’t do is try to be a superman, keep things to yourself, and use the information for personal gain because you have a personal vendetta against the accused. Now…when this falls through, and it more than likely will, what’s next? Are we going to see stories in the media of the man in charge taking your bicycle as a child or stealing your girlfriend at the high school prom? Where do we draw the line and stop listening to you ‘cry wolf’…for lack of better terminology? Why can’t you come clean and be honest? Why don’t you admit that you have political aspirations within this county and you want a head start on the mud slinging? Oh…wait…you revealed to us two years ago that you had political aspirations within this county…and the people showed you in one giant voice that they didn’t so much as want you operating an ice cream truck. So…what do you do now? You find other people that were battered and bruised in the last election, band together, and back another potential candidate! We’ve got it all figured out so…the time for lies and deceit and under the table backstabbing are over. Be honest…or do we have to wait for the campaign signs? I hate cliffhangers! Better yet…why don’t you disguise your voice, call the media, claim that you were abducted by aliens and…when everyone is looking ‘up’…you can run off to Canada! Granted…it’s not the best of exit strategies but it seems to work for possible murder suspects. Kill a man, have someone contact the media stating that the suspect killed himself, and run away as fast as you can while everyone is searching for your body! Brilliance at it’s finest and I plan on using it myself someday. Until then…I shall end this on the coat tails of a dirty limerick…since this week’s subject is definitely not worthy of my finest poetry.
There once was a guy named _ _ _ _ _
He was constantly moaning and cryin’
Advertising his knob
He’s now lost his job
But you can’t blame the poor guy for tryin’

“Advertising his knob” is sophisticated talk for “being a dick”. FYI

Until next time…keep believing – Hometown Outcasts
There…was that un-ghostly enough for you?

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