bjciii: My twisted thoughts

You’re born a dog person or a cat person (okay, I’ll be fair: there’s that third category where you aren’t anything, but follow along, will ya?)… that’s my firm belief. As hard as you try, you can’t change that. Yes, I know that there are people out there who say “I hate cats” and then, for whatever fate has in store for them, end up owning cats, but just because you say “I hate cats” doesn’t really mean that you actually hate them. Besides, the “dog” v. “cat” debate has less to do with affectation and more to do with personality. This is not to say that a “cat” person is worse or better than a “dog” person (or vice-versa), but we’re all different.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you’ll know that I’m a dog person, pure and simple. I love dogs (not that I hate cats, but I definitely prefer them to stay away) and I will always love dogs. I think that there is no purer love than the one that you feel when your dog looks up at you; that gaze is basically “I will do anything for you because you are my world.” It’s another firm belief that if you mistreat that love, you deserve to die in the most horrible ways possible. I’m not evil, I just think that when that sort of ilk is allowed to move freely, they corrupt those around them. In any case, I bring all of this up because my home-city, Wilmington, is mulling over a bill to ban certain “aggressive” breeds of dog.

Bullshit.

No… PITbull shit (sorry, couldn’t resist).

There are no dogs on this planet that were born evil. There are no dogs on this planet that, by their very nature, exist to hurt and / or kill humans. No. Not a shot. You want to know why dogs attack? You want to know why there are “aggressive” dogs? Because they have asshole owners.

A quick aside… this is where I get worked up. If you get offended by NC-17 language, I urge you to hit “BACK” on your browser. I make no apologies for what I’m about to say.

These bastards think that they are tough, so they need “tough” dogs. They get Rotties, Pits, Boxers, and other dogs which portray that bad-ass attitude. Then, they treat them like shit. They neglect the dogs, beat them when they –suprise!!– act like dogs, and train them to go after people that they want to intimidate. Folks, if you teach something to act aggressive, why is everyone shocked when they actually do what they are taught? What we need to do is ban the fucktards that actually own the dogs. When someone shoots someone, are we expected to ban all the guns? No… we lock up the douchebag who pulled the trigger!

I’ve had 1 dog, a yellow lab, for almost 10 years, and he was the greatest dog in the world. I was lucky enough to foster another dog, a boxer, for about a week, and he was a wonderful dog too! It’s not the dogs, folks… it’s the owners. It’s always the owners. If you train a dog to not go in the house, it doesn’t go in the house. If you train a dog to shake hands / paws, it shakes. If you train a dog to bite someone’s thigh everytime you utter the words “Sic ‘em,” then guess what happens?!

People like the easiest solutions… Gun violence up? Ban guns! Never mind the fact that if we ban guns, only the bad guys will actually have them because, despite the liberal idiots who believe otherwise, bad guys don’t follow the laws; this is why they’re “bad” guys, get it? Dog attacks? Ban the breeds! How about a bill which will hold the owner accountable? How about taking into consideration what happened before the attack? I’m not saying that kids are stupid now, but kids are stupid! I know for a fact that male intelligence drops dramatically as you get more and more males together. When Johnny is walking home and sees a dog, he may smile and keep walking. When Johnny, Bobby, Mikey, Joey, and Skip are walking, they decide to tease the dog and then wonder why it attacked.

It’s not the dogs, folks… it’s the people. It’s always the people. If you want to read someone else’s ideas on who is at fault, try Googling Mark Twain’s “The Lowest Animal”; I think you’ll find that Mr. Clemens says it a lot better than I do.

What I won’t miss: Standing in one spot for hours, the biting wind turning my hefty frame into an icicle. Driving 2 hours one way and then realizing I have to drive back. Pushy people. Photos showing me that I look nothing like myself. Not getting enough sleep. Wicked carsickness!

That’s pretty much it… the rest of it? I loved. I think my short listing of complaints is okay, but let’s talk about the things that were awesome, shall we?

• For the first time I can remember, people (ALL people, not just a big group of individuals) were happy.
• The before-dawn greetings of overly happy people… complete strangers who were thrilled that people came from everywhere to share in this momentous event.
• Being able to take a long walk in the morning, seeing sights at times that I never even imagined.
• Getting into my spot before the most historic of swearing-ins… Being able to say “I was there!” when I really was!
• Seeing just how thrilled the world is that the 43rd President of The United States is out
• Reading that foreign countries are “jealous” and “ecstatic” that Barack Obama is president!
• Being able to get some great shots of everything on Tuesday
• Being able to visit my gal-pal, Jal on Monday when she took me to the hallowed Thai Market in Silver (there’s-only-one) Spring
• Having a wonderful friend like Ryan who, along with Molly & Maisy, put me up on Monday night, took me to Martin’s (apparently a favorite of JFK’s where he ate his after-church brunch), and made sure I knew exactly where I was going at all times
• That first moment where I lay in my own bed after almost 36 hours of not sleeping
• Seeing my students really interested as I spoke about the inauguration in class
• Meeting with my colleagues to go to a Vice-Presidential reception at The Naval Observatory
• The white napkins emblazoned with The Vice-Presidential seal! Don’t worry… I “liberated” 2 of them for my memories. It’s okay… they were paper, not cloth!
• The first moment we saw Dr. Jill Biden and she was genuinely happy to see her former Delaware Tech colleagues
• Seeing Vice-President Joseph Biden greet all of us like friends, and then hop to a landing and make a quick, imprompteau speech. All the while, it dawned on me that this man, our former senator, is now the second most powerful man in the world.
• Being able to see Jamie Wyeth’s portrait of John F. Kennedy hanging on the TV room!! That was sweet…
• Laughing at the fact my uncle cornered Joe Biden (the Vice-President, for God’s sake!) and said “Look, we need some decisions on this blueprint.”
• Watching Joe actually give him decisions on the blueprint!
• Getting my picture taken by 3 or 4 different cameras with the Veep! Of course, I am nowhere CLOSE to photogenic, but I think I can forgive it since I’ve got proof I was there, shaking his hand, and saying hello.

Honestly… it was a fantastic feeling. I was blown away by the sheer awesomeness of being an invited guest of Dr. Biden and Vice-President Biden to their house; it wasn’t expected, but it was an honor. It’s truly been 2 straight days of things that only a handful of people were able to do. No matter what else is going on in my life, no matter what crap is flowing around my ankles, no one can take these two days of memories and honors from me. What a wonderful feeling!

So… now I’m back to the daily ins and outs of life. Prepping for a class in 45 minutes, thinking about how I’m going to get my sister’s router working in conjunction with her wireless modem, finding out why certain presents haven’t arrived to my godson and step-goddaughter (not really my goddaughter, but I was there at her baptism, and I’m “UncaBill,” so Kacey gets something too), and just getting back to the grind.

In any case, Cinderella has left the building, but she… er… I had a great past few days

Take a look (follow the red arrow to the small red cross):

That’s where I was when, after 45 years and change, at least part of Martin Luther King’s dream came true. That’s where I was when, for the first time in American history, a man stood in front of his country and represented more than just one multitude. That’s where I was on January 20th, 2009 at 12:03pm EST. That’s where I was for Barack Hussein Obama’s swearing-in as the 44th president of The United States of America.

Out of the 1.5 million estimated gathered, I was one of the 240,000 people lucky enough to receive tickets to the 56th American Presidential Inauguration, and my ticket placed me in the South-Standing section of The United States Capitol. Despite everyone climbing all over the wall to see, it was pretty damned close. There were a TON of people trying to get in, so I (unfortunately) missed Vice-President Joseph R. Biden’s swearing-in (but, let’s say “thanks” to CNN.com and their video section, so I did manage to catch it after all!), but I arrived literally minutes before Obama took his step into history. I was there to hear his “So help me, God” and I was there to see people crying and hugging each other and jumping up and down. I was there to hear his brilliant address, and I was there to see history – not just some figurative idea of something which will be remembered by a few, but something that was so defining that it will never be forgotten.

I was there.

Okay, it was cold… damned cold, but it was worth it. Sure, my toes were without feeling, my fingers felt like they were going to break every time I flexed them, and my ears were basically fragile protuberances which had the only job to hold up my glasses. I woke up (heh… I didn’t really sleep as I was too excited, so I got out of bed is technically correct) at 6:15, hopped in the shower, and then dressed. Now, normally, my dressing takes about 5 minutes, but I knew it would be cold, so I listened to mommy and daddy. For the first time in probably 20 years, I work long underwear over my boxers and under my jeans. I wore two pairs of socks and my boots. I wore a t-shirt, a button-down, a sweater, and my jacket. I wore gloves, and I was blown away by how long it took to get those damn longjohns on! It was, however, smart.

I walked 3 miles from my friend Ryan’s apartment in Georgetown down to the Capitol, and saw the sun rise around The Washington Monument. I was greeted by numerous people wearing red and, despite the cold and early time, they were absolutely thrilled to say hello to everyone. By the time I reached sight of The Capitol Building, I was excited because everyone was excited! I never ended up seeing any of my colleagues from work (except for Charlotte and Mark who I passed on the way out of the ceremony) OR my family members who were down there, but I wasn’t alone. As I walked along the mall, everyone was happy to say “hi” or start a “Yes, We Can!” chant. Sure, in any large gathering, you’ll get jerks who push and shove, but that’s just humanity. In the grand scheme of things, the few idiots couldn’t really ruin the overall feeling. I waited in a line for over 3 hours to get in, but (for the most part), I was okay with it. I met with a few nice individuals and was impressed by the overall security of The Capitol Police. I mean, when you take almost 2 million people and put them in a square mile, that’s a hell of a thing.

Like I said earlier, with a man of color elected as president of the United States, at least part of Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream came true. Barack Obama was not judged by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. It wasn’t Alabama, but around me, “little black boys and black girls [not only joined] hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers”, but they hugged and cried and played… and it wasn’t just the little boys and girls. Teens, young adults, adults, senior citizens… we were all joyous. While the world has a long way to go to be truly equal, the election of a man of color means that Dr. King brought us a long way.

Today was amazing whether you were there on the mall, or stuck at your job, huddled around a television watching it. I was lucky enough to be there and, despite the cold, the hunger, and the thirst, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I was part of history and I’m proud to say that I voted for that change.

So, folks… it was a hell of a thing. Just think: This is the election that will be in the history books and, as my friend Dan impressed upon me, will cause all generations of people of color to aspire to greater heights than their parents, grandparents, and all who came before couldn’t dare to dream about. If you look the word “awesome” up in the dictionary and shun the 1980s connotation, well… THIS my friends… this is awesome.

Dear Osama,

I thought we were special! I thought we had something that no one else had. I thought you woke up every morning cursing only America, and then laid your turban by your head at night praying that only the American infidels would get theirs!

Now I find out that you’re jihading with Israel? You’re not even trying to hide it!! I am hurt. I thought that you would sacrifice everything for our relationship, but now you’re planning to jihad your brains out with that… that… Israel! I thought we were special! I thought your every action and thought was consumed by the idea of America, but now you are bumping around with another? Where’s the single-minded devotion? Where’s the overwhelming feeling of doing right?

I think we need some time apart. Yes, I know you’ve been distant lately and I understand that we both lead separate lives, but I really need time to think about this. I am a one-jihad kinda guy and I think you knew that. Maybe this is a break, but I think we both know better.

Sincerely,

America

p.s. You left your slippers at my place. I’ll mail them to you if you send me a forwarding address.

The school-bell rings, boys are gazing at the pigtails of the girl in front of them and wondering if they’ll fit into their inkwells. The schoolmarm raps her pointer on the desk, and the students take out their…

Oops. Sorry. Little House on the Prairie flashbacks.

Nope. Today was my first class of the semester and I am feeling very calm and collected now. Of course, last night leading into this morning, I was a bundle of nerves! Don’t get me wrong, I’m never scared of class or students, but I’m all over the place wondering how the students will react to my sense of humor, how they will deal with my lazy eye, or what sort of class atmosphere we’ll have. I sort of hope that I remain full of nervous energy before my first class for the rest of my career! I don’t think I ever want to be on auto-pilot at the beginning of the semester because that might mean that it’s routine. I don’t like routine! I like new and interesting topics of conversation! I like new personalities. I love this fucking job! I know, I know… some of you have a problem with the language I sometimes use, but curse words are sometimes used as the spice of language: Too much and it ruins the dish… too little and it’s not noticeable. I prefer to think I’m perfectly seasoned

Of course, now that my first class is under my belt, I’m back to normal. I remember heading into my old job, knowing the same shit would happen every day: the same calls, the same conversations, the same power-struggles. I got lucky that my co-workers (most of them) were good people with the same hatred for authority I had. Now? Now I’m a lucky bastard: I get to do what I love AND I am getting paid to do it!

So… 15 more weeks and it’s summer. Hey, I said I loved it, but I never said I don’t love breaks too

Before I begin, if anybody is reading this on Thursday, January 8th, 2009, between the hours of 11am EST and 9pm EST, please go to Jake’s Hamburgers and buy some food. I ask you to do this because a woman by the name of Michelle Smith was hit by a driver who then fled the scene on December 21st; she died on December 22nd. Michelle was an EMT in Delaware City, and Jake’s will be donating 20% of their profits for those 10 hours to Michelle’s daughter, Emily, to be put into a trust fund for her.

I mention that because Michelle was doing her job, helping someone who had been in an accident, when some waste of sperm hit her and then, with the help of another person, fled the scene.  Most of us aren’t in jobs where just going to work means we put our life on the line, but those who do have those positions continue to do it to help the rest of us out. When someone puts on the uniform to fight crime or to fight fires or to fight disease, they do it because they had a calling and they feel they are making a difference. When the rest of us go to work, we do so to make money or because we love what we do (which is where I come in). Then, of course, there are those who just show up, dawdle for hours, pretend to actually do something, and go home. These are the people who you might see behind a counter, confused as to how to make scrambled eggs, toast, and pancakes at the same time, hoping that someone will cancel their order so they can slink back into the back and sing off-key until someone else bothers them for a simple meal.

I was really hoping for pancakes this morning, sorry.

In any case, unless you were born into a wealthy family, you’ve had to work at some point in your life. With any luck, you’ve found a job you love and that job will be yours until you die. Some are stuck in jobs they hate, but they need to pay the bills, and some are in jobs they love, but don’t pay much. Then there are those who are happy to be of service to the community… that same community who spits on them and calls them names because they do their jobs protecting and serving.

My point, before I continue to ramble incoherently about pancakes and eggs, is that we all have our jobs to do. Some of us love the job, and some of us hate the job. Most of us tend to exist, hoping to find that job we love. Regardless of how we feel, we were contracted to do that job. We have to do that job to the best of our ability and, if we cannot do that, we need to move on. I’m lucky, I know that. I love my job and the majority of my students enjoy me; not a lot of people can say the same! It took me a decade in a horribly-run company (or companies since they sucked so much, we had to change our name 3 times) to really appreciate having a job I love. I’m making a difference, and I love what I do. I’m blessed and I know it.

Now… go eat at Jake’s today.

The resolution I told you about (writing more) is all fine and dandy, but I forgot the one I made about 3 months ago. The one I made sometime around my birthday was that I was going to try and hit every piece of “Delawarity” I could this year. I’ve lived in this great state for 33 and a half years, and there’s a lot of local stuff I’ve never done. I cannot promise that I will do everything (scheduling & costs come to mind), but I do promise to make the best effort I can to do whatever I can to attend those events. One of the biggies which I really want to see, but I’m not sure I can snag a couple of tickets as it’s immensely popular, is a NASCAR race at Dover Downs International Speedway (a.k.a. The Monster Mile).

Let’s back up a second… How many of you have done everything you could to take in the area you were born and raised in? I know people who have grown up in Philly and never saw The Liberty Bell or friends who grew up in Virginia / D.C. and never hit any of the memorials down there. Friends up in New York City haven’t been out to The Statue of Liberty! We skip these things because we say “they’re for tourists” and we’re townies, right? Right and wrong. We are townies, but these events and places aren’t just for tourists! Yes, people come from all over the country for Sussex County’s “Punkin Chunkin” festival, but it’s held in Delaware! Attend!

So, in this year of our Lord, 2009, I plan on attending as much Delaware stuff as I can. For those of you who are smirking at this, yes… this means Point to Point as well. I made a promise to a girl last year that I would go this year and, despite recent circumstances, I keep my promises. I think that little promise was actually the impetus for this resolution… In any case, I’d love to be able to drag one or more of you along if you’d like to go. Oh, and if anyone knows how to get a ticket to either of the races down in Dover, let me know. There’s one in May (right around UD’s graduation) and one in September (right around my birthday).

With France gone to Ithica (and I do miss my travel-buddy), there’s no wild-and-crazy, impetuous person I can rely on to drop everything and go on a crazy trip with me. I’m accepting applications…

The title isn’t really fair; I love my job, but I heard Chrissy Hynde singing that very song this morning on the radio, so it felt right. Regardless of the musical choice, I’m back at work and I’m very happy about it. How many of us have been off for a few weeks due to the Christmas holidays and returned today? A lot of coffee, a lot of groaning, a lot of long showers, praying for the ability to wake up… yup. It’s Monday!

So here I sit, in a brand-new office (well… an old office which was vacated by a friend of mine, but it’s brand-new to me!), looking around and hoping that everything is in the right place. It will take a little getting used to, but, for the first time in my working life, I have a window.

Let me wax poetic about this…

My first taxable job was a gas-station attendant, so I was in and out of the building a whole lot. I didn’t think “window” at all because we had a huge window in the front and I dealt with the public. Then I started working at a bank in their facilities management department. I was back in a loading area and tool / parts storage, so the only window I had showed right into the boss’ office. Eesh. Luckily he was a great guy, so it wasn’t bad. After that, I was a techie at The University of Delaware, so I was in their basement-located central computing site. No windows! I ushered at The Playhouse Theatre – no windows. I got my first real job in 1998 and I was stuck in a secure building with, you guessed it, no windows. So, for the first time since my very first job ended in 1994 (15 years), I have a window.

A window means that there’s a world around you. A window means that the sun smiles at you and, if you’re like me and love storms, the wind howls its love for you as the driving rain beats against the glass. I can turn from my computer (during office hours), and look outside. Sure, it’s a parking lot, but there’s sky and trees and the world. I love it.

At the tender age of 33, I finally have a window in my office. Even though I have hiccups at home, my professional life just keeps getting better

So… I’m watching VH-1′s “100 Greatest Hard Rock Songs” last night as I’m drifting off to sleep, and it strikes me: bands that we are so enamored with today, the bands we consider “innovators” and “legendary,” all started out as some kids in a garage or basement with some other people telling them to shut the hell up. The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Steppenwolf… the list goes on. All of these luminaries began in much the same way as a lot of the current bands did. What made them legendary? Was it merely the fact that they managed to stay around as long as they did? I mean, Ronnie James Dio has been in the business for 50 years, but a lot of people have no idea who he is. I’m getting to a point, and it’s this:

What bands that have been around for only a few years or more will we be telling the next generation “I remember when they first started out”?

Think about it… in the early 1990s, “grunge” took over and the next god-like band was Nirvana. Anyone who listened to music, knew Kurt Cobain. If they were fans, they knew who the bassist and drummer were, but Nirvana was Cobain’s baby. When Cobain died, everyone thought it was over for the other two members, but then something interesting happened: the drummer revealed himself to be a musical genius of his own! Dave Grohl fronted The Foo Fighters and they are influential to a lot of bands today. Who would have thought?! Imagine if Cobain never died… what would have happened to Grohl?

I remember back in 1994, I took my then-girlfriend to a concert in Philadelphia to see this neo-punk band in The Civic Center (a shitty little arena). 15 years later, and Green Day is on a pedestal for kids!

Yup… this is what I thought of when I was drifting off to sleep. Kinda fun to think about!

I resolve to write a whole hell of a lot more than I have been.

Feel free to laugh, say “Sure!”, or roll your eyes; I know it’s going to be a bitch to keep up with my demands, but I have some ideas to propel me.

Anyway, like I said this summer, I have become a victim of my own success. Of course, the definition of success means that I have readers here. When I first started venting writing, I put down whatever I want. Now, I actually have to think Is this little rant actually worth the shitmound I’m going to get when I hit the Publish button? In some ways, that little thought has made me a better writer; sure, some of you like to complain about word choice (regardless of whether it’s MY choice or merely another’s word choice in a supplied quote), but I consistently amaze myself at just how much I slip past people. Some of you might think that was arrogant, some might think it was me hoping people will read more… whatever works for you.

See… now that I know every single word is under a microscope, I know how I have to present things. Sometimes I like to go for the boot in the face honesty that I miss, but most of the time I will simply just… write. It’s fun.

So that’s my resolution. I resolve to write more. I’m not promising that you’ll get 365 entries this year because, well, I doubt anyone could provide 365 interesting reads in a year’s time. I might actually break out the “Movie-a-Day” thing again, but stretch it for a month instead of 18 days. What’s even better, I might actually… scratch that; I am now officially asking YOU all (if you’ve got the guts) to give me a list of movies that I should watch. If I own them, I’ll watch them. If I don’t, I’ll Netflix them. Give me some ideas!

A quick note about 2008: it’s over. That’s it. There’s no recap, no happy-go-lucky or maudlin litany of ideas that I felt or thought during the past calendar year. I did that for a few years and it was fun, but, as Dan tells me, I have to leave the past in the past. Never forget, but don’t dwell… ya know? So 2008 lasted for 366 days (damn the leap year), and now we are sitting in 2009. What is there to look forward to this year?

• A possible Eagles Super Bowl run
• The inevitable Eagles post-season dive
• JoeBama gets inaugurated (and I’ll be there)
• My very first nephew!!!
• My master’s program
• A possible Flyers’ Stanley Cup parade
• Hearing Dan Baker announce “…your WORLD CHAMPION Philadelphia Phillies!”
• Learning more
• Hating less
• Understanding that I know nothing
• Missing some good friends
• Making a lot of new friends
• Spoiling my aforementioned nephew
• Celebrating my 10th year in my first home

And that’s only off the top of my head. Look forward, folks… Enjoy 2009; I know I will