(If you cant tell by the title, there is profanity in this.)
Yep, I have decided that as of now, 9:11pm on June 26, 2012 I am an asshole. You can write it down. I am so fucking tired of being the nice guy. You know the saying that nice guys finish last. That is bullshit. Nice guys get screwed - and not the good kind. They get screwed like in Deliverance - without the KY. (Sorry, if I have to explain that, you shouldn't be reading this.)
You see, being a nice guy means people want to take advantage of you. Yes, I gave you some advice on the phone. I am glad that advice was good for you and you negotiated a settlement with your bank. I am glad you are saving $24,000. You want me to review the settlement agreement? Fine. I don't think asking for $250 to review a document and put my fucking ass on the line is asking too much. You do? Then you can suck my ****.
You signed a lease and want to get out of it? Good. I am glad you think its okay to screw your landlord. You want my help? Fine. $500 to review the lease and provide you with your options. What, that's too much for you? Fuck you. $500 isn't much especially since I know you are the loser who will spend the next 3 days asking me more questions. It would work out to like $20 per hour. I know, that is still good money. But I have a fucking law degree. $20 an hour for a lawyer is dirt cheap. You think someone else is going to talk to you for $500. Sure. $500 to get in the door. Piece of crap.
You want to fight an eviction AND get a restraining order against your landlord? Not possible. The court is not going to give you a restraining order against the person who owns the house you live in and let you stay there. You cannot have your fucking cake and eat the crap too. Sorry. Oh, it is my fault? Yeah, I guess it is my fault for not taking your money and running. I guess it is my fault for not screwing you out of money. I guess I should have taken your money, lost, and then said "Sorry. But I got paid."
I am sorry. People just suck. I take payments. You can't make a payment? Fine. Just let me know. Three months later? Now I have a problem. I am the asshole? Really? Do you think anyone else would have taken your case? Do you think anyone else would have made a $100,000 plus debt go away forever AND taken payments? And not charged you $100,000. I could have billed the crap out of that file. I didn't. I tried to work with you. Could you just pay the fucking money?
Wait, the best. You paid me to show up and try your case. That does not mean I show up at the time of trial having done no work. I spent hours getting ready. I showed up and the debt collector piece of crap dismissed their lawsuit. Completely. You don't have to pay back like $20,000. And you want a refund? Seriously. You are a bigger piece of shit then the debt collector. Take your fucking money.
Oh, and it is not just work. How many times have people said "Can you help me out?" When do I say no? NEVER. NOT ONE FUCKING TIME! I need help and they scurry like cocks, er cockroaches in the light. Fine. Scatter. You are a piece of crap. I dont have to say yes. Next time you say "Can you help me out?" You know what my answer is going to be? NO NO NO NO NO! Is that clear? NO! Oh, you don't understand. Let me try this "NO. FUCK OFF!" Is that clearer? I hope so.
Your sick? Im sorry. Your kid is sick? Im sorry. Im sick and what the fuck do I get from you? Nothing. Seriously. 400 friends on facebook. I dont know how many phone numbers in my phone. If I dont pick up the phone and call you, do you call me? Of course not. So, you know what, dont email me. Dont call me. I wont do it either. How does that work for you?
I am so fucking sick and tired of people. Really. I try to be nice. I try to do the right thing. And it gets me nothing. (Okay, not completely nothing. I can count about 10 folks who I know I could count on if I need them.) For the most part, it gets me nothing. Not one single piece of crap thing from 99% of the world.
So you know what. Dont ask me how I am. I am probably crappy. I am probably pissed off or in a bad mood. I probably got some bad news. You dont fucking care. Dont pretend like you do. Oh, and if you dont want to pay me, dont fucking call me. If you dont want my advice, dont ask. You dont want my opinion, then dont ask for that either. I promise not to share.
Is that fucking clear enough? I am now officially an asshole.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
I feel sorry for some people
WARNING: This is going to be filled with profanity.
WARNING 2: You might want to listen to this while you read this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIR9lJclm2I
I feel bad for some people. No, not the poor. Not the homeless. Not the disabled. Not the folks who are down on their luck.
I feel bad for the fucking bastards whose lives are so miserable that they have to spend their entire lives trying to bring down others. What the hell has to be wrong with you to want to spend your entire life trying to bring down other people? Are you such a piece of shit that you don't have anything good to with your life? Can you not be a productive member of society, you cocksucker? Don't we have enough problems in the world? Isn't life hard enough?
Let me back up a second. Just so we are clear, I am a husband and a father. Everything else is so far down the list of what I am that I don't even discuss it. Like the next thing on the list is friend and that comes on page 16, maybe.
And you know what my dad taught me? (Yes, there is a dad theme. It was Father's Day recently. Deal with it.) He taught me that a man, a real man, takes care of his family first. My dad had Parkinson's disease. He was diagnosed at 35. So you know what he did? He overmedicated himself for the next 28 years or so. He did it so he could work and provide for his family. And you know what it got him? A fucking heart attack while in the hospital. Oh yeah, and he didn't survive. Nice, huh?
And now I see what my dad did. He provided for his family. And that is my job. To provide for my family. Always. No matter what. Why? Because I am a father and a husband. Is that clear?
So, if you want to push me, be ready for me to push back. I was talking to someone last week who said it sounded like I had lost a bit. I may have. But it was temporary.
Here is a secret for you: my black belt name is Scorpion. Why? Because a scorpion doesn't attack until provoked. I can be a great friend. I can be there to help you out. But, if you attack, be prepared for me to attack back. And I don't just get a little cut and move on. I go for blood. Lots of it. Like some zombie movie.
So, Bob, or Bobby. or Robert, or whatever the hell your piece of shit name is, be ready. Be prepared. Your life is so fucking pathetic, you are such a pitiful excuse for a person (lets not confuse person with human being - a human being actually has feelings and cares about other people), that your entire life is dedicated to tearing people down.
Really? You have nothing better to do with your life? You are a sad sack of crap. You are a pathetic person. You really should be ashamed and embarrassed. I know if I spent my entire life trying to rip people up, not only would I be ashamed, my parents would be rolling over in their graves.
I really do feel bad for these poor pieces of crap. You really are a waste of oxygen. Good luck. You are going to need it.
WARNING 2: You might want to listen to this while you read this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIR9lJclm2I
I feel bad for some people. No, not the poor. Not the homeless. Not the disabled. Not the folks who are down on their luck.
I feel bad for the fucking bastards whose lives are so miserable that they have to spend their entire lives trying to bring down others. What the hell has to be wrong with you to want to spend your entire life trying to bring down other people? Are you such a piece of shit that you don't have anything good to with your life? Can you not be a productive member of society, you cocksucker? Don't we have enough problems in the world? Isn't life hard enough?
Let me back up a second. Just so we are clear, I am a husband and a father. Everything else is so far down the list of what I am that I don't even discuss it. Like the next thing on the list is friend and that comes on page 16, maybe.
And you know what my dad taught me? (Yes, there is a dad theme. It was Father's Day recently. Deal with it.) He taught me that a man, a real man, takes care of his family first. My dad had Parkinson's disease. He was diagnosed at 35. So you know what he did? He overmedicated himself for the next 28 years or so. He did it so he could work and provide for his family. And you know what it got him? A fucking heart attack while in the hospital. Oh yeah, and he didn't survive. Nice, huh?
And now I see what my dad did. He provided for his family. And that is my job. To provide for my family. Always. No matter what. Why? Because I am a father and a husband. Is that clear?
So, if you want to push me, be ready for me to push back. I was talking to someone last week who said it sounded like I had lost a bit. I may have. But it was temporary.
Here is a secret for you: my black belt name is Scorpion. Why? Because a scorpion doesn't attack until provoked. I can be a great friend. I can be there to help you out. But, if you attack, be prepared for me to attack back. And I don't just get a little cut and move on. I go for blood. Lots of it. Like some zombie movie.
So, Bob, or Bobby. or Robert, or whatever the hell your piece of shit name is, be ready. Be prepared. Your life is so fucking pathetic, you are such a pitiful excuse for a person (lets not confuse person with human being - a human being actually has feelings and cares about other people), that your entire life is dedicated to tearing people down.
Really? You have nothing better to do with your life? You are a sad sack of crap. You are a pathetic person. You really should be ashamed and embarrassed. I know if I spent my entire life trying to rip people up, not only would I be ashamed, my parents would be rolling over in their graves.
I really do feel bad for these poor pieces of crap. You really are a waste of oxygen. Good luck. You are going to need it.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Fathers and Daughters
I never asked my dad what it was like to have a daughter. I guess I could have. I probably should have. But, I didnt. When he died, I only had sons. I never thought about having a daughter. So, it wasnt something that came up.
Tonight, I took my daughter to our first Father Daughter dance. Okay, technically it was the Princess Cupcake Ball. But it was still a dance. We danced our first dance to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl." (Watch the song's video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9I5UV4VWCSk)
I realized on the drive home how much this little girl means to me. Its different than my boys.
My first son means so much. He was a miracle, a miracle I never thought would happen. Years of waiting, uncertainty, some heartache, then a boy. I changed my first diaper with that kid. I had so many dreams and hopes for him. They all won't come true, but he was my first.
My second son was my first post September 11. We were in NYC 6 weeks after that horrible day and my 2nd son was hope for the country. He was light during a dark time. And he is now my mini-me. A little too much on the me side of that!
My third son was born after my dad passed away. He was my dad reincarnated, or something like that. We named him for my dad and he reminds me of my dad in so many ways.
All three were amazing. All three were gifts. All three are special. None of them are my little girl.
She is my miracle. I can't ever explain how she came to be. I don't know. But she is this amazing little creature who makes me smile. The last 3 years have been filled with ups and downs. The ups were great. The downs were some of the lowest times in my life.
I never really talked about this before but during some of those downs, I was unsure that I wanted to keep living. One look at her, and I knew I did. She gave me a reason to continue living. She gave me hope for the world. She reminded me that sometimes you can't explain things in the world, but you don't have to explain them. She reminded me that life is a good thing.
Tonight we danced our first dance. Tonight we shared a moment that I will never forget. Tonight she reminded me that, as bad as life has been at times, its never been that bad. She held my face while we danced (okay, I am not that short, I was holding her in my arms) and told me she loved me. I held her back and saw an angel. She is my angel.
I dont know what it is about daughters. I do know they are special. Different from my boys (who stayed home and took care of mommy, including buying dinner and dessert). She is my sweet little girl. I love her and I am so glad every day that I get to wake up and see that perfect little person.
Tonight, I took my daughter to our first Father Daughter dance. Okay, technically it was the Princess Cupcake Ball. But it was still a dance. We danced our first dance to Tim McGraw's "My Little Girl." (Watch the song's video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9I5UV4VWCSk)
I realized on the drive home how much this little girl means to me. Its different than my boys.
My first son means so much. He was a miracle, a miracle I never thought would happen. Years of waiting, uncertainty, some heartache, then a boy. I changed my first diaper with that kid. I had so many dreams and hopes for him. They all won't come true, but he was my first.
My second son was my first post September 11. We were in NYC 6 weeks after that horrible day and my 2nd son was hope for the country. He was light during a dark time. And he is now my mini-me. A little too much on the me side of that!
My third son was born after my dad passed away. He was my dad reincarnated, or something like that. We named him for my dad and he reminds me of my dad in so many ways.
All three were amazing. All three were gifts. All three are special. None of them are my little girl.
She is my miracle. I can't ever explain how she came to be. I don't know. But she is this amazing little creature who makes me smile. The last 3 years have been filled with ups and downs. The ups were great. The downs were some of the lowest times in my life.
I never really talked about this before but during some of those downs, I was unsure that I wanted to keep living. One look at her, and I knew I did. She gave me a reason to continue living. She gave me hope for the world. She reminded me that sometimes you can't explain things in the world, but you don't have to explain them. She reminded me that life is a good thing.
Tonight we danced our first dance. Tonight we shared a moment that I will never forget. Tonight she reminded me that, as bad as life has been at times, its never been that bad. She held my face while we danced (okay, I am not that short, I was holding her in my arms) and told me she loved me. I held her back and saw an angel. She is my angel.
I dont know what it is about daughters. I do know they are special. Different from my boys (who stayed home and took care of mommy, including buying dinner and dessert). She is my sweet little girl. I love her and I am so glad every day that I get to wake up and see that perfect little person.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Elk Grove City Council
Let me preface this with a few comments. First, my dad (it is the week of Father's Day after all) taught me to speak my mind. He also taught me there are consequences for your actions. So, there will be consequences for this post. But that is okay.
You see, I have written before about my town's city council having an idiotic idea: bring Major League Soccer to Elk Grove. They were going to go to Dallas to study what Dallas has done. Um, Dallas is a major city with a major youth soccer tournament every year. With lots of money. And corporations. And people with money. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what Dallas has done. But they are going ahead with these plans with Fabian "I used my political influence to get my son's felony conviction and sentence reduced" Nunez. (Go read my prior post here: http://randomrants08.blogspot.com/2011/12/mls-in-elk-grove-i-think-not.html)
Here is what I didn't say in that one because I was trying to be politically correct. Time to be politically correct is gone.
I do a fundraiser every year. Well, this is my 2nd year. And, for the record, my last year in Elk Grove. Last year was a 24 hour soccer game to raise money for Susan G Komen. My mom passed away from breast cancer last year. It seemed appropriate. This year its called Soccer Speaks. (Go to Facebook and look it up.) Its a 12 1/2 hour soccer game for Autism Speaks for my 12 1/2 year old son who is autistic. Simple enough, right?
Here is where this gets interesting. Last year, I has ZERO support from the city leaders. I could tell you the total support was actually less than zero. They did not a damn thing. Wait, until the day of the event. Then I had the news crews out there. What happened? Our then mayor came out and shook my hand to start the game. I did it because it was the right thing to do. Easy enough.
You know what happened next? I came up with this idea and the former mayor couldn't remember who the fuck I was. You know how much support I have gotten this year? ZERO. None. Not a retweet, not a "Great idea, let me pass the word," not a single fucking thing. None. Not from anyone on our city council.
You know what I have gotten? I have had the commissioner of MLS tweet about it, The Shin Guardian, an article on a sports blog in Texas, support from MLS players and US Womens National Team players. Support has come from friends, family, and people I sort of know. Even clients have supported this.
So let me get this right..........a guy who admittedly used his influence to get his son off (reduced, whatever, its semantics when you are involved in a murder) is getting support from the city council to bring an MLS team to our town when MLS has said there are no plans for expansion and when there are 100 cities ahead of us in line. But, I do something that actually gets the attention of MLS and I get no support? Really?
What sounds like a better idea? Doing business with a guy who manipulates the system for his own well being or supporting a fundraiser from a guy who is on year 2 of bringing attention to your town? Look, Nunez is entitled to do whatever he wants to do. He apparently did nothing illegal. But, wouldnt you double and triple and quadruple check before you do business with someone like that? I know I have made mistakes. I expect everyone who wants to do business with me, whether as a client or a friend or a business deal, should check me out and be comfortable with me. Ask lots of questions.
In this case, the city is using public money to give to a group headed by a guy who doesnt quite answer the questions. Its not like he has a long history of doing the right thing. He has a long history of helping himself. Is that what the city wants?
Look, you don't have to like my idea. You can think my idea is stupid and ridiculous. You know what my idea is? My idea is this:
1. Its a way to bring attention to a disease that sucks;
2. Its a way to bring attention to our little town;
3. Its a way to show people that soccer can make a positive difference in people's lives;
4. Its a way for people to get together and have fun for a day.
You know what it could be? Wait, what it could have been? It could have been a way for Elk Grove to get the attention of MLS and to show that we are a soccer town that supports using soccer to make the world a better place. But, our city "leaders" havent quite figured that out. Why? Because there is nothing in it for them.
Don't give me this nonsense about how MLS is good for the city. MLS is good for politicians who want to get donations from people who want to bring an MLS team to town. You can't finish a mall but you can build a world class soccer stadium? I dont think so.
Its simple. I dont have the money. I dont contribute to campaigns. You come out and get a picture taken with me when it works for you. If you cant get your 15 minutes of fame out of this, you want nothing to do with it.
So let me be clear: I am uninviting the Elk Grove City Council. The entire council. Every single one of them. Jim Cooper, Patrick Hume, Gary Davis, Steve Detrick, Sophia Scherman. You are not welcome. I dont want you there. In fact, if you come, I will ask you to leave.
You see, a leader would step up and work with an idea like this to make our city stand out. A leader would want to see something like this succeed. You have failed in that, and not just because this is my fundraiser. You have failed to support many great projects in Elk Grove that are for the people and about the people.
So, next year, no soccer event. This is my last one. I will be doing something, but it wont be in Elk Grove. Elk Grove's leadership has failed. You have put the almighty dollar ahead of the almighty citizens. You are more concerned with your re-election and your political connections than you are about helping real people trying to make Elk Grove a better place.
I wish you the best. But do not ask me for campaign contributions. Do not ask me to help you with your pet project. Do not ask me for anything. I will give to the community in ways I see fit. I will do what I think is right. And I will make the world a bit better than it was when I came here.
You see, my dad taught me about leadership. But he also taught me to make the world a better place. I remember him mentoring a young manager at the complex he lived in when he passed away. At his funeral, she came up to me and was crying because of everything he had taught her. I dont remember her name. I dont know where she is. I do know he made a difference in her life. And I know I will make a difference, because that is what we are supposed to do. Make a difference. The Elk Grove city council has chosen to put money ahead of making a difference.
You see, I have written before about my town's city council having an idiotic idea: bring Major League Soccer to Elk Grove. They were going to go to Dallas to study what Dallas has done. Um, Dallas is a major city with a major youth soccer tournament every year. With lots of money. And corporations. And people with money. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what Dallas has done. But they are going ahead with these plans with Fabian "I used my political influence to get my son's felony conviction and sentence reduced" Nunez. (Go read my prior post here: http://randomrants08.blogspot.com/2011/12/mls-in-elk-grove-i-think-not.html)
Here is what I didn't say in that one because I was trying to be politically correct. Time to be politically correct is gone.
I do a fundraiser every year. Well, this is my 2nd year. And, for the record, my last year in Elk Grove. Last year was a 24 hour soccer game to raise money for Susan G Komen. My mom passed away from breast cancer last year. It seemed appropriate. This year its called Soccer Speaks. (Go to Facebook and look it up.) Its a 12 1/2 hour soccer game for Autism Speaks for my 12 1/2 year old son who is autistic. Simple enough, right?
Here is where this gets interesting. Last year, I has ZERO support from the city leaders. I could tell you the total support was actually less than zero. They did not a damn thing. Wait, until the day of the event. Then I had the news crews out there. What happened? Our then mayor came out and shook my hand to start the game. I did it because it was the right thing to do. Easy enough.
You know what happened next? I came up with this idea and the former mayor couldn't remember who the fuck I was. You know how much support I have gotten this year? ZERO. None. Not a retweet, not a "Great idea, let me pass the word," not a single fucking thing. None. Not from anyone on our city council.
You know what I have gotten? I have had the commissioner of MLS tweet about it, The Shin Guardian, an article on a sports blog in Texas, support from MLS players and US Womens National Team players. Support has come from friends, family, and people I sort of know. Even clients have supported this.
So let me get this right..........a guy who admittedly used his influence to get his son off (reduced, whatever, its semantics when you are involved in a murder) is getting support from the city council to bring an MLS team to our town when MLS has said there are no plans for expansion and when there are 100 cities ahead of us in line. But, I do something that actually gets the attention of MLS and I get no support? Really?
What sounds like a better idea? Doing business with a guy who manipulates the system for his own well being or supporting a fundraiser from a guy who is on year 2 of bringing attention to your town? Look, Nunez is entitled to do whatever he wants to do. He apparently did nothing illegal. But, wouldnt you double and triple and quadruple check before you do business with someone like that? I know I have made mistakes. I expect everyone who wants to do business with me, whether as a client or a friend or a business deal, should check me out and be comfortable with me. Ask lots of questions.
In this case, the city is using public money to give to a group headed by a guy who doesnt quite answer the questions. Its not like he has a long history of doing the right thing. He has a long history of helping himself. Is that what the city wants?
Look, you don't have to like my idea. You can think my idea is stupid and ridiculous. You know what my idea is? My idea is this:
1. Its a way to bring attention to a disease that sucks;
2. Its a way to bring attention to our little town;
3. Its a way to show people that soccer can make a positive difference in people's lives;
4. Its a way for people to get together and have fun for a day.
You know what it could be? Wait, what it could have been? It could have been a way for Elk Grove to get the attention of MLS and to show that we are a soccer town that supports using soccer to make the world a better place. But, our city "leaders" havent quite figured that out. Why? Because there is nothing in it for them.
Don't give me this nonsense about how MLS is good for the city. MLS is good for politicians who want to get donations from people who want to bring an MLS team to town. You can't finish a mall but you can build a world class soccer stadium? I dont think so.
Its simple. I dont have the money. I dont contribute to campaigns. You come out and get a picture taken with me when it works for you. If you cant get your 15 minutes of fame out of this, you want nothing to do with it.
So let me be clear: I am uninviting the Elk Grove City Council. The entire council. Every single one of them. Jim Cooper, Patrick Hume, Gary Davis, Steve Detrick, Sophia Scherman. You are not welcome. I dont want you there. In fact, if you come, I will ask you to leave.
You see, a leader would step up and work with an idea like this to make our city stand out. A leader would want to see something like this succeed. You have failed in that, and not just because this is my fundraiser. You have failed to support many great projects in Elk Grove that are for the people and about the people.
So, next year, no soccer event. This is my last one. I will be doing something, but it wont be in Elk Grove. Elk Grove's leadership has failed. You have put the almighty dollar ahead of the almighty citizens. You are more concerned with your re-election and your political connections than you are about helping real people trying to make Elk Grove a better place.
I wish you the best. But do not ask me for campaign contributions. Do not ask me to help you with your pet project. Do not ask me for anything. I will give to the community in ways I see fit. I will do what I think is right. And I will make the world a bit better than it was when I came here.
You see, my dad taught me about leadership. But he also taught me to make the world a better place. I remember him mentoring a young manager at the complex he lived in when he passed away. At his funeral, she came up to me and was crying because of everything he had taught her. I dont remember her name. I dont know where she is. I do know he made a difference in her life. And I know I will make a difference, because that is what we are supposed to do. Make a difference. The Elk Grove city council has chosen to put money ahead of making a difference.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Pre Fathers Day
So Father's Day isnt for another week. But its a tough week for me. I am a father. So that rocks. I get to celebrate with my wife and kids. But I don't have a father to celebrate with. So that blows.
I was sitting at my son's hockey lesson tonight and My Immortal came on the radio. It makes me think of my dad. I dont know why. Yes, I do. The lyrics. So the chorus is about wiping away someone's tears, fighting away fears, holding someone's hand. That was me.
You see, my dad had Parkinson's disease. Diagnosed at 35. Do you know what its like growing up in a house where your dad shook constantly? Okay, so maybe not constantly. A lot? He coached my soccer teams and would shake when we played. I remember kids on the team making fun of him. I didn't know why he did it. So, I went along with it. Shame on me.
I remember talking to my dad about it at 13. Would I get it? Is it contagious? No? No? Wheh. I dodged a bullet. (Of course, now I know I didn't, but I was 13, an idiot (some things never change) and didn't know better.) I know I hurt his feelings then. I am sorry for that.
I remember my wedding day. He had to change his medication schedule because the one thing he wanted to do was walk me down the aisle. He did. Don't laugh. It was sweet.
I remember my law school graduation. He stood up after (he used a wheelchair when he couldn't walk) and shook my hand. Of course, that was the last time I saw him in person. Fucking graduation sucks.
I also remember going to my parents house when I was in college. "Jon, can you fix the computer?" "Jon, can you come here?" "Jon, bring me a tissue." I would have to wipe his mouth when he drooled. I would have to pick him up off the bed and walk him to the bathroom. I would have to help him into and out of his wheelchair. I would bring him a urinal at night so he could go to the bathroom.
Now I sit here 6 days from Fathers Day. Its bittersweet. I get to hang out with my kids. But I dont get to send a card to my dad. I dont get to call him. I dont get to wipe his mouth or pick him up or fix his computer or take him to the bathroom.
I wonder when it will be my time to say to my boys take me to the bathroom.....get me a tissue so you can wipe my mouth.....bring me a drink.........help me get out of bed........that time will come. In the meantime, I will spend part of the next week thinking back on those memories, remembering the good times (Wednesday nights at Del Mar beach with him and his friends, them sitting on the beach drinking beers and eating burgers, me in the ocean, boogie boarding), and the bad times. I will try to remember the good times more than the bad times. But I will remember all of the times.
I love you dad!
I was sitting at my son's hockey lesson tonight and My Immortal came on the radio. It makes me think of my dad. I dont know why. Yes, I do. The lyrics. So the chorus is about wiping away someone's tears, fighting away fears, holding someone's hand. That was me.
You see, my dad had Parkinson's disease. Diagnosed at 35. Do you know what its like growing up in a house where your dad shook constantly? Okay, so maybe not constantly. A lot? He coached my soccer teams and would shake when we played. I remember kids on the team making fun of him. I didn't know why he did it. So, I went along with it. Shame on me.
I remember talking to my dad about it at 13. Would I get it? Is it contagious? No? No? Wheh. I dodged a bullet. (Of course, now I know I didn't, but I was 13, an idiot (some things never change) and didn't know better.) I know I hurt his feelings then. I am sorry for that.
I remember my wedding day. He had to change his medication schedule because the one thing he wanted to do was walk me down the aisle. He did. Don't laugh. It was sweet.
I remember my law school graduation. He stood up after (he used a wheelchair when he couldn't walk) and shook my hand. Of course, that was the last time I saw him in person. Fucking graduation sucks.
I also remember going to my parents house when I was in college. "Jon, can you fix the computer?" "Jon, can you come here?" "Jon, bring me a tissue." I would have to wipe his mouth when he drooled. I would have to pick him up off the bed and walk him to the bathroom. I would have to help him into and out of his wheelchair. I would bring him a urinal at night so he could go to the bathroom.
Now I sit here 6 days from Fathers Day. Its bittersweet. I get to hang out with my kids. But I dont get to send a card to my dad. I dont get to call him. I dont get to wipe his mouth or pick him up or fix his computer or take him to the bathroom.
I wonder when it will be my time to say to my boys take me to the bathroom.....get me a tissue so you can wipe my mouth.....bring me a drink.........help me get out of bed........that time will come. In the meantime, I will spend part of the next week thinking back on those memories, remembering the good times (Wednesday nights at Del Mar beach with him and his friends, them sitting on the beach drinking beers and eating burgers, me in the ocean, boogie boarding), and the bad times. I will try to remember the good times more than the bad times. But I will remember all of the times.
I love you dad!
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I was an underachiever
I think I have told part of this story before. But I think its time for the whole story.
I was 14 when I started high school. I had just moved to San Diego. I was a whopping 2.0 student. That is not a typo. I was a 2.0 student. I did just enough to stay eligible for the speech and debate team. Don't laugh. Speech is the reason I can give a 4 hour closing argument with no notes.
So, there you go. My guidance counselor, who my senior year of high school said "Don't bother applying for college. You are just going to waste your parents money," told my parents I needed to see a psychologist. So, I went.
I spent over an hour talking to this "expert." When I was done, she called my parents in. She had a grand pronouncement..........................I was an underachiever. Holy crap. It took a college degree plus a master's degree plus a PhD to figure that out. I knew I was a freaking underachiever. I was an underachiever starting in 3rd grade. Just ask anyone who knew me back then. I was probably born as an underachiever. My apgar should have been 9, but I decided not to cry when I was stimulated, so I ended up a 7. (You don't know if that story is true or not so just laugh!)
Anyway, then there was a an analysis behind why I was an underachiever. I was 14 and I did not know what I wanted to do when I grew up. Yep, that was the problem. I didn't know if I wanted to be a doctor, lawyer or Indian chief. (Its an expression, its not derogatory.) At this point, I saw something I had never seen before.
My dad stood up. And he related the following:
"When I was growing up, I wanted to be a pharmacist. I always knew I wanted to be a pharmacist. So I graduated from high school and went to the Massachusetts School of Pharmacy. I graduated with my degree and went to work at a pharmacy. I then decided I wanted to get my master's degree in pharmacy. So I went back to the Massachusetts School of Pharmacy and obtained my master's degree. I then realized, I hated being a pharmacist. I went back to school to get my PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry. I liked being a research chemist."
At that point, my mom got up, my dad told me to get up, and we left. We walked out. End of the discussion. I never went back.
I then learned the rest of my dad's story. Or, at least, the parts that are relevant to this. After getting his PhD, my dad went to work for Johnson & Johnson as a research chemist. After a few years doing that, he moved into product development, then international mergers and acquisitions. He worked for the dental company and the orthodontic company.
I was 16 and I asked my dad what a pharmacist/research chemist knew about orthodontics. He said "Nothing. But I don't need to. I hire good people and let them do their jobs."
I was 14 and had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. (Okay, so I wanted to be a professional soccer player, but that wasn't happening at my size!) I was 16 and still had no clue. At 18, I was a computer science major. At 19, I was undecided. At 20, I was a business major with an emphasis in accounting. At 21, I graduated with a degree in economics.
You know what? I still had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up. I worked for an insurance company. I was going to be an insurance adjuster and work my way up the corporate ladder. At 24, I was going to go to law school and be a corporate risk manager. At 25, I was going to be an insurance defense attorney. At 27, I had no idea what I was going to do. At 30, I opened my own practice representing consumers.
My point: I don't know. I don't ever know what my point is when I start this. But, I think this one may be simple. If you are under 25, you don't have to know what you want to do with your life. And it is alright. You can change your mind. Heck, I am in my late 30s and I am still trying to figure out what I want to do some days. It is okay not to know. You are not an underachiever. You are not a failure. You are, however, human.
We put too much pressure on young people to know what they want to do with their lives. Who cares what they want to do with their lives? They are kids. Lets let them be kids. Lets let them grow up. Lets let them figure out what they want to do with their lives.
Oh, one PS: my dad used to tell that story at high school career days. He stopped being invited after telling it a few times. I think that says more about the people running the career days than my dad.
I was 14 when I started high school. I had just moved to San Diego. I was a whopping 2.0 student. That is not a typo. I was a 2.0 student. I did just enough to stay eligible for the speech and debate team. Don't laugh. Speech is the reason I can give a 4 hour closing argument with no notes.
So, there you go. My guidance counselor, who my senior year of high school said "Don't bother applying for college. You are just going to waste your parents money," told my parents I needed to see a psychologist. So, I went.
I spent over an hour talking to this "expert." When I was done, she called my parents in. She had a grand pronouncement..........................I was an underachiever. Holy crap. It took a college degree plus a master's degree plus a PhD to figure that out. I knew I was a freaking underachiever. I was an underachiever starting in 3rd grade. Just ask anyone who knew me back then. I was probably born as an underachiever. My apgar should have been 9, but I decided not to cry when I was stimulated, so I ended up a 7. (You don't know if that story is true or not so just laugh!)
Anyway, then there was a an analysis behind why I was an underachiever. I was 14 and I did not know what I wanted to do when I grew up. Yep, that was the problem. I didn't know if I wanted to be a doctor, lawyer or Indian chief. (Its an expression, its not derogatory.) At this point, I saw something I had never seen before.
My dad stood up. And he related the following:
"When I was growing up, I wanted to be a pharmacist. I always knew I wanted to be a pharmacist. So I graduated from high school and went to the Massachusetts School of Pharmacy. I graduated with my degree and went to work at a pharmacy. I then decided I wanted to get my master's degree in pharmacy. So I went back to the Massachusetts School of Pharmacy and obtained my master's degree. I then realized, I hated being a pharmacist. I went back to school to get my PhD in pharmaceutical chemistry. I liked being a research chemist."
At that point, my mom got up, my dad told me to get up, and we left. We walked out. End of the discussion. I never went back.
I then learned the rest of my dad's story. Or, at least, the parts that are relevant to this. After getting his PhD, my dad went to work for Johnson & Johnson as a research chemist. After a few years doing that, he moved into product development, then international mergers and acquisitions. He worked for the dental company and the orthodontic company.
I was 16 and I asked my dad what a pharmacist/research chemist knew about orthodontics. He said "Nothing. But I don't need to. I hire good people and let them do their jobs."
I was 14 and had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. (Okay, so I wanted to be a professional soccer player, but that wasn't happening at my size!) I was 16 and still had no clue. At 18, I was a computer science major. At 19, I was undecided. At 20, I was a business major with an emphasis in accounting. At 21, I graduated with a degree in economics.
You know what? I still had no idea what I wanted to do when I grew up. I worked for an insurance company. I was going to be an insurance adjuster and work my way up the corporate ladder. At 24, I was going to go to law school and be a corporate risk manager. At 25, I was going to be an insurance defense attorney. At 27, I had no idea what I was going to do. At 30, I opened my own practice representing consumers.
My point: I don't know. I don't ever know what my point is when I start this. But, I think this one may be simple. If you are under 25, you don't have to know what you want to do with your life. And it is alright. You can change your mind. Heck, I am in my late 30s and I am still trying to figure out what I want to do some days. It is okay not to know. You are not an underachiever. You are not a failure. You are, however, human.
We put too much pressure on young people to know what they want to do with their lives. Who cares what they want to do with their lives? They are kids. Lets let them be kids. Lets let them grow up. Lets let them figure out what they want to do with their lives.
Oh, one PS: my dad used to tell that story at high school career days. He stopped being invited after telling it a few times. I think that says more about the people running the career days than my dad.
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