Thursday, July 24, 2008
On no, not again
The microphone goes the other way....
And this is one of my choices for president, Lord help me.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Yikes....late for work
I forgot how much I truly enjoy writing; I imagine having a new job may be the overriding reason for not writing much anymore. That or I just got lazy.
Perhaps there are different addictions in this life and not are all that socially unacceptable as drugs and alcohol abuse. I often wonder about what has been my biggest addiction and trust me when I say I have taken a serious non-amateur approach to most. In the end I have always been addicted to work even though it long ago lost any faint luster or thrill. It just ends up being a job I do for money. Prostitution takes a lot of odd little forms.
I wonder how many folks actually read this without a prompting from an email or a phone call that asks “have you read the Whiner lately”. It makes me wonder if this is the best format or the one I have merely grown comfortable with? I had an agent once but for reasons only known to him it went south quickly.
I hope to keep writing this time and perhaps find a job that allows me to do this. All suggestions are welcome since I am clueless and inherently lazy in that aspect.
Subjects I wish to cover span the gambit from Oprah’s choice for prez to the mundane wondering about life as a 50 plus member of society.
Perhaps there are different addictions in this life and not are all that socially unacceptable as drugs and alcohol abuse. I often wonder about what has been my biggest addiction and trust me when I say I have taken a serious non-amateur approach to most. In the end I have always been addicted to work even though it long ago lost any faint luster or thrill. It just ends up being a job I do for money. Prostitution takes a lot of odd little forms.
I wonder how many folks actually read this without a prompting from an email or a phone call that asks “have you read the Whiner lately”. It makes me wonder if this is the best format or the one I have merely grown comfortable with? I had an agent once but for reasons only known to him it went south quickly.
I hope to keep writing this time and perhaps find a job that allows me to do this. All suggestions are welcome since I am clueless and inherently lazy in that aspect.
Subjects I wish to cover span the gambit from Oprah’s choice for prez to the mundane wondering about life as a 50 plus member of society.
Monday, July 21, 2008
My buddy Herb
And so it seems the warranty is wearing out. I should bought an extended one on this body, but never thought too much about it to be honest. The vision is till pretty good and I can still hear, albeit, there are times I wish it wasn’t as clear. The heart seems to work too quickly so I now have meds to resolve or at least control this as well. But the weirdest part was the removal of an umbilical hernia last week. Oddly enough this was something I picked up while going to the gym many years ago in an attempt to stay healthy and fit.
My wife named it Herb, and every year is seemed to take on more of a life of it’s own. It was either forming an all seeing eye or a set of headlights any VW would have been proud of. All the while staring out from the middle of my ever- expanding stomach. When the surgeon explained the procedure to remove Herb, I asked if perhaps a little liposuction might be in order since he was going to be there anyways. He balked at this and I responded with “Hey as long as you are there, heck I’ll even bring a garden hose and pump as need be”. No luck on that. I guess exercise is my only option, once again trying to see how best to balance a drink and keep the cigarette going all the while. This keeping healthy is not for the faint of heart.
So the day arrived, nerves are shot and attempts at humor are awkward at best, unattractive or not, I had grown very attached to Herb…. so to speak. The nurse told us what would happen, the doc who would give me drugs to go to sleep reminded me a lot a goalie I had played hockey against as a youth, albeit she was a tad more pleasant, the doc that is. The surgeon and I talked about our Triumph motorcycles and exchanged pleasantries even though we both knew why he was really there. Removing Herb with a sharp pointy thing.
They brought me into a room with a cross like looking bed, arms strapped to the side my nose began to itch like mad. Isn’t it always the way? As the La La juice kicked in I could hear the refrains of Sarah Brightman singing “Time to say Goodbye” in the background.
I woke up a bit later and decided, hey no big deal, I feel fine. The surgeon came in and explained that Herb was a bit of a split personality and had formed various layers. The “Sybil” of hernias. He mentioned some other things and sent us home with a handful of scripts.
Herb and I had been together since 1998 and yet I don’t find I miss him. It’s taking a decent shower I miss.
My wife named it Herb, and every year is seemed to take on more of a life of it’s own. It was either forming an all seeing eye or a set of headlights any VW would have been proud of. All the while staring out from the middle of my ever- expanding stomach. When the surgeon explained the procedure to remove Herb, I asked if perhaps a little liposuction might be in order since he was going to be there anyways. He balked at this and I responded with “Hey as long as you are there, heck I’ll even bring a garden hose and pump as need be”. No luck on that. I guess exercise is my only option, once again trying to see how best to balance a drink and keep the cigarette going all the while. This keeping healthy is not for the faint of heart.
So the day arrived, nerves are shot and attempts at humor are awkward at best, unattractive or not, I had grown very attached to Herb…. so to speak. The nurse told us what would happen, the doc who would give me drugs to go to sleep reminded me a lot a goalie I had played hockey against as a youth, albeit she was a tad more pleasant, the doc that is. The surgeon and I talked about our Triumph motorcycles and exchanged pleasantries even though we both knew why he was really there. Removing Herb with a sharp pointy thing.
They brought me into a room with a cross like looking bed, arms strapped to the side my nose began to itch like mad. Isn’t it always the way? As the La La juice kicked in I could hear the refrains of Sarah Brightman singing “Time to say Goodbye” in the background.
I woke up a bit later and decided, hey no big deal, I feel fine. The surgeon came in and explained that Herb was a bit of a split personality and had formed various layers. The “Sybil” of hernias. He mentioned some other things and sent us home with a handful of scripts.
Herb and I had been together since 1998 and yet I don’t find I miss him. It’s taking a decent shower I miss.