To say I have a lot to talk about is a vast, vast understatement. And how to approach it all...chronological, alphabetical, importance...HOW? I just don't know. So...let me start by saying this. In my last post, I indicated there is a family issue that I am dealing with as I go about my everyday stuff. That situation is getting neither easier nor better, and in some ways, it's getting worse. I do my gut-level best to keep it "under control" and quiet, but it is so bad that it's starting to affect my work. Something is going to blow soon and unfortunately, I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to do much to keep it from happening save somehow finding a way to "walk on water". In case you don't get that symbolism, I'll say it simpler.
Unless I can somehow pull a rabbit out of my ass, boiling point will be reached very soon. In any event, this particular family situation is "behind the scenes" and weighing on my mind quite a bit. Quite a bit. I know I'm not the only person with "problems" right now, but there's a part of me that feels because of who I am and how I come across to people, that I'm not "allowed" to have problems. I guess that's why I'm posting this. Oh yeah...I have problems. I tend to make other people laugh a lot to take the focus away from me...
Speaking of laughing. While I am having these issues, I had the opportunity to go to Ventura this past week for a two-day fire department-related conference. Some sort of...uhhh...strange things occurred...
--Found out, by accident, that one of the chiefs from my department marched in the very same drum and bugle corps that I did, albeit, about 10 years prior to me. That was VERY strange. We ended up knowing a lot of the same people, but I could tell he was not remembering a whole lot from "way back then". But it was WILD to be sitting there and sort of comparing notes with him. Reminded me of the time when I found out that our admin assistant in our command center also marched in the same corps back in the 70's. That would be the Velvet Knights. Small world. And I know there's a lot of you that read this blog that wouldn't know the significance of this if it came up and hit you over the head. Just trust me. It was a pretty cool moment for me.
--Because of my personal issues, I was more in "rare form" in Ventura than I have been in a long time (guess it helps me deal). It actually reminded me of the time about 5 or 6 years ago that I went to Vandenburg AFB with my friend Jon Dumitru for some fire department training. We both were invited to "hang" with the instructional staff at a dinner up in a nearby city. And uhhhh....well...let's just say, between me, Jon, and several Diet Cokes, we made quite the comedic impression. Jon and I played off of each other PERFECTLY, and damn near had people in hysterics in this restaurant. It really was very funny. Fast forward to this past week...it was me solo. In a lounge. In the large lobby of the hotel. Let's just say I didn't make friends with Kern County Fire when I did a bit on their "dispatching by banjos". Apparently the dispatchers thought I was a riot. Their chief? Not so much. And Chief Dave Pierce. I think his pancreas was bruised. By Chris Funk's NOSE. GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWD!!! But it was funny. Never saw my own chief laugh so hard. Good times hanging with Chiefs Pierce, Concepion, Wells, Robinson, McIntosh...JoSAYYYYYYYYYYY Valbuena...holy cow...Funkalicious, my own boss DJP....ahhhhh yes. It'll be a historic night... or two.
--Here's another bit of weirdness. On Thursday morning, I woke up early. Couldn't sleep. Stress does that. Anyway, instead of going for the $11 breakfast buffet in the restaurant downstairs in the hotel, I just did what I do best. I went exploring. I love driving around and just looking at stuff. Found a McDonald's. COOL. Got myself a Sausage McMuffin. And a large Diet Coke. Life was good. But then...it took a strange turn. As I returned to my parking space at the hotel to start another fun-filled and exciting examination of the California mutual aid system, I finished sucking out the last remnant of the dark brown liquid goodness that is Diet Coke. And I thought to myself, "Self, I think I shall take this cup of ice with me into the fun-filled conference so as to keep myself from actually slipping into a freakin' coma!" So...I pulled off the top of the cup, and lo and behold, what did I find? Right...what you'd expect to find at the bottom of your ice in a large cup from McDonalds. A $20 bill!!!! That's right. Imagine my amazement as I stood in the parking structure of the Crowne Plaza Resort in Ventura. Slack jawed. Staring into my cup. At first, I thought..."Oh my gosh. I'm going to die. I just drank contaminated Diet Coke swill." Then I thought, "I'm impervious to all poisons. I've been drinking the aspartame in Diet Coke for 10 years now. If I'm not dead, I won't die from any stupid poison." And then the 2nd thing I thought..."I'M RICH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" And the good news didn't stop there. I fished out the 20 from below it's icy demise, flattened it out, and put it in my center console for drying. Looked back into the cup--per chance I was going to find a lottery ticket. Better!!! I found 37 cents. I'm not kidding. Needless to say...I threw the cup and ice away. And thought that MAYBE I need to be aware that I MAY start spontaneously vomiting in the next 2 to 6 hours. LOL!!! :-)
That's about it for now.
Oh wait. One more thing. My wife told me that her youngest brother, 17 year old Joseph, was going to his prom tonight. And I got a little melancholy about that. I mean, I was happy he was going and all. But 13 years ago when I first met him, he was 4. And he and I really got close. Cool to see him growing up. Not cool to know while he's growing up...I'm just growing OLDER.
Dammit.
Get outta here....
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment