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This is my blog. I just went through a divorce; it was the worst thing that has yet to happen to me. This is me dealing with it and life. It's my blog; I write about what I want. I hope you enjoy. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The above was me about three years ago. It is the most up to date digital photo I have.
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Well, I think that everybody got the point that I don't think that I'm evil. In a society that supposedly values the complexity of an individual, America seems to just lump everyone into a category. For a country that believes racism, sexism, homophobia are discriminating a group of people based on one single trait (unless you're a gay, black woman, then you're just screwed  ), we lump people into groups based on one trait...politics. It's disgusting, and it allows us to be manipulated and pitted against each other. I have voted Republican, but that doesn't mean I'm a Republican. I have voted Democrat, but that doesn't mean I'm a Democrat. I'm a nerd! That's the only group that I'll accept allegiance to.I'm a varied, complex individual, and if you and I disagree on one point, that doesn't mean we're enemies. We could agree on millions of other things, but one point is all people focus on nowadays. I support gay marriage, and yet, because I don't bow down at the altar of Global Warming, I'm an evil, Republican operative to a gay relative of mine. I believe that if a woman decides to stay home, she IS asserting her rights as a woman. But another friend, who knows better, thinks it's sexist for a woman to stay home, even IF the woman wants to. What happened to respecting the differences between us? I thought that was how we were going to end prejudice, but we still seem to hate. Instead of hating because of skin color, we know hate because of ideological or political associations. Now, I'm not suggesting going back to the skin color prejudice. That's wrong. I just thought that John Lennon and Neil Young promised me that the world would be filled with love, and it's not. The hate has just switched from racism to politicism. Why has this happened? I don't know, but I have ideas. The first is thing thing here; the internet let's people flame away. It has put distance between us and the people we hate. Distance is anathema to love, and it allows someone to be cruel because of so little backlash. Society has become so guarded and insecure. We are all afraid that guy on the bus who smiled at us is secretly wondering what our liver tastes like. We are isolated in our cubicles with our iPods and cell phones. We no longer expect any kindness from strangers, and we rarely give kindness to strangers. So, now, when we find a group that we fit in with, we cling to this group with all our might. We don't want to be broken from it, and we want to fit in so much. And if someone talks counter to the group, it's easier to ignore than listen with an open heart. We are all special, which means none of us are. Schools are removing red pens because it hurts the kids self esteem to be wrong. We are telling kids that they didn't fail because they tried. They got the answers wrong, but they tried. Well, personally, I think this is crap. It teaches us that our ideas and feelings are always right, so why should we be open minded and listen to another's opinion that contradicts ours? So, if someone disagrees with us, they're wrong. Period. Finally, emotions and feelings are at the center of our society right now. This can be a good thing, look at Barack Obama's campaign. But this can also be negative, look at Barack Obama's campaign. The man makes people excited and feel great, but no one knows why. He harps on one word, change. But it's just hot air, and his policies are going to bankrupt our country. China won't have to invade, they'll just call our debts due. We'll have to sell them our country. But since he makes you feel good, you just float along. No one looks at facts anymore because feelings are more important. And we all have the right to our own opinions EVEN IF they are wrong and based on smoke and mirrors. If a kid says 2 + 2 = 10, well, he's entitled to his own opinion, right? We can't tell him that he's wrong because he feels strongly that 2 + 2 = 10. Global warming is based on a mathematical technique called extrapolation, and it uses statistics to extrapolate what will happen. But any good, honest mathemetician will tell you that extrapolation is prone to error. It is highly prone to error, but because people feel strongly that global warming exists, we should all swallow hook, line and sinker. To question, as any good, honest scientist should, is a SIN, it is a HATE crime; it is on par with child abuse, murder and rape all rolled into one. Now, notice that I didn't say deny; I said to question. But if you question, you're a imbecile and not sophisticated enough to understand. These are emotions, not facts. Science is not an emotional area; it is ideas and facts, not feelings. So, when feelings take over science, theories and questions become beliefs and dogma. Global warming (GW) is a new religion because of the emotions that are behind it. And we all have seen the damage people do in the name of religion. Religion is an excuse for some people to hate others, and GW is no different. I don't know how to reverse this, but I try to listen to differing opinions. I seek out people not like me to learn, to grow and to become a better person. I fail, often, but I try, again and again. I don't listen to the news; I seek out the candidates voting record. And I give everyone a chance. I try not to expect failure or disappointment from everyone. I do believe in the best in each of us, and it's burned me time and time again. However, I would rather be burned because I believed in the best than be safe and cynical. Here's hoping you have a great day full of kindness, compassion and wonder. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| Last night after I left poetry class, I came to the realization that I'm evil. No, I'm not the kind of evil where I have to grow a handlebar mustache and twist the ends as I laugh. Nor will I tie any virgins to railroad tracks. I have no doomsday machines to hold the world hostage. Nonetheless, I am evil, and here's why. I am evil because: I drive an SUV. I am an agent of faceless corporate America. I have voted Republican. I am Catholic. I forgot my wife's birthday. I think we should seek oil independence by drilling in ANWR. I think we should drill off the coast of Florida before Cuba does. I believe that theory and reality are two separate entities that are mutually exclusive. My favorite presidents are Lincoln and Reagan. I saw that Communism results in everyone being opressed, like in Tianamen Square. I know that Socialism leads to Communism, sorry to tell you, Mr. Obama. I believe that if you murder someone, you should be killed. I believe that racial profiling at airports is a good thing. I believe that if Muslims disliked what Al Qaeda was doing, they would speak up. I believe in freedom of religion - Islam, Catholic, Judaism and whatever. I believe that African American Republicans and Gay Republicans are not traitors to African Americans or Homosexuals. I believe that homosexuals should be allowed to marry, but they should not be allowed to sue a church that refuses to marry them. I believe in Affirmative Action except in University Graduate School admissions. I believe that men should open the door for women. I believe men should always pick up the check, even on their birthday. I believe that a person's actions speak louder than their words, which is why I cannot vote for McCain. I think that if a woman wants to be a housewife, she should be. If she doesn't, she shouldn't. If a man wants to be a housewife, he should be. (Edited, thanks to Deelyte- Chillin'   for pointing this out.)* * * There are more reasons why I'm evil, but I think those are a good starting point. So, flame away, agree or disagree, but that's me. I'm happy with it. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| I've had a good run of three or four blog posts these past weeks. So, what now? How do I follow this up? What possible piece of writing could leap over a post about peeing? I don't know, but the pressure is high. I'm the type of person who is competitive with himself. When I do something well, I want to do it, again, better. Maybe I'll go back to the trough and question male behavior, again. I love watching two guys fight (as a controlled sport). I think it is one of the best things on the planet. Why? I don't know. I understand the game going on, and I can tell you all kinds of philosophy from Jung to Fight Club to explain it. I can even say that Testosterone increases agression. Now, I also believe fighting is a competitive endeavour. It should be done in a controlled manner so that both combatants can avoid serious injury. I have said this before. Fighting, we'll call it sport fighting, is incredibly competitive in two manners. It is one person competing against another person to win a fight. It is to impose one will upon another. This doesn't interest me as much as the second incarnation of fighting. Mostly because no matter how good you are, there is always someone better. So, competing against another person has no real longevity. As a person ages, competing against another human is fun but at some point dangerous. Sport fighting is individual competition because, ultimately, you are competing against yourself. The work that an athlete has to put in before stepping into the ring is insane. The Ultimate Fighters are physical specimens, and they train all the time to get that way. They train in conditioning, striking and wrestling. Now, imagine how hard it would be to assess yourself and say I'm weak here. I need to work on this. These people have to do this every day. Every day for three hours, you have to work on boxing, or you will get hurt. Everyday for three hours, you have to wrestle, or you will get hurt. Everyday for three hours, you have to go through conditioning, or you will get hurt. I admire that type of dedication, that amount of drive. These individuals have to look inside themselves and push themselves. No one else will do it. They wake up sore from the day before wanting to call in sick, and they can't. They have to go and work on their double leg takedowns because they missed them in practice. They have to go through a hundred kicks left and right legs because they're kicks are sloppy. They have to watch tape of their opponents to see weaknesses, to form strategy. Then, they have to take the walk to the ring. Half the crowd is screaming for them to get knocked out; the other half is trying to yell encouragement. They're nervous as they walk down. Then, after the ref checks them out, they step into the cage or ring. There's two other people in the ring, the ref and the opponent. They can't think about the ref; they have to look across the ring to see their opponent and possess no fear. They have to know without a shadow of a doubt that they have won this. If they walk into the ring with any...any doubts, they have already lost. So, they stare across to their opponent into a face that is looking to knock their teeth into next week. Then it begins. I love the dedication this takes, and I understand what type of mind it takes to win and be good at sport fighting. I don't like boxing; it is unnecessary to expect a person to get up after a knockdown; it hurts someone unnecessarily. Pro Wrestling is fake, enough said. But ultimate fighting is a thinking man's sport...er, fight. Sure, crazies and psychos try to fight in this, but they don't get far. Those who last, those who excel at this sport are intelligent, hard working competitors. So, I guess that's why I like sport fighting. To me, it's plain as day, and it probably makes me sound crazy or violent. However, there is more to this sport than anyone knows. Anyways, I can't fight this stuff due to health issues. However, I enjoy it, and I love to watch it. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| Today's post was inspired by a poem presented in class this past week. I don't know how many people know this, but there are unwritten rules of the restroom for men. You go in and find a stall as far away from another man as possible. IF!!! IF...you have to stand next to another man to pee, you always choose a man who is physically smaller than you. That way, if he looks over the divider between the urinals, you can beat him up. The rules also state that you must...you must look straight ahead at the wall. If a naked woman on fire was running around the restroom, you cannot turn around to look until your piece is put away, and you're zipped up. Then you can only look when you're turned 180 degrees around and not looking at any other man. You must never talk to another man while you are both at the urinals. This is as bad as looking. If you talk to another man, you are acknowledging his existence. Now, when you're a macho, straight-as-an-arrow man, the last thing you want to do while holding yourself is admit there is another man around you. First of all, it's two men touching themselves, and that's not a good thing for anyone to think about. Next, it's two men touching themselves next to another man. Obviously, if we acknowledge this, it must mean we're gay, right? Why else are we holding our naked pride next to another man holding his naked pride? So, there are two men in a bathroom with their ego, literally, in hand. If you acknowledge another man there, then maybe, just maybe, he might be...(((gasp))) BIGGER! Sure, we understand that size doesn't matter. We know this. It doesn't matter at all. Now, as with every great set of rules, it is important to know when to break them. Only one rule is able to be broken without getting beaten down. If you're drunk, then talking is permitted. It has to be funny; it has to be a joke. Then even the biggest redneck will laugh. For example, one of my favorites is to say, "Damn, this water's cold and deep, too." I got a 350 lb trucker at a truck stop to blush and giggle when I said that. (Yes, I was drunk; no, I wasn't driving.) Yes, it's a macho, cave man joke, but it's funny. It's not erudite or sophisticated; it salt of the earth humor that perpetuates the insecurities involved with a piece of flesh that gets way too much attention. But it's really damn funny. Try it. P.S. Think this post lost me the award?  Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
First of all, HOLY CRAP! I have been nominated for best blog in "Invalid Item"  . Thanks to whomever nominated me.Now, I have to get to the lighthearted blog that I promised yesterday. So, I'm writing away! Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| So, I tried hardcore to find a light hearted blog today. But the stupidity and cowardice of people have brought forth the rant machine in me. Lighthearted tomorrow because I have to say what follows. Yesterday, I was in a liberal, bohemian part of St. Louis. I love going down there because it is different from my point of view, which means I learn a lot. It's fun; it's stylish and it's trendy. There are great artists, bookstores and jazz clubs there. As I was sitting in a coffee shop talking to a friend, who if she reads this will just shake her head, an anti-Iraq war protest walked down the street. They wanted the occupation to end, and they wanted us to free the Iraqis. Now, I will spare you all my feelings about "freeing" the Iraqis right into the jaws of Al Qaeda. What I want to talk about is the cowardice of these people. Are they cowards because they don't support the war? No! They are saying what they think, and this is a good thing. No one should be silenced. So, why do I think they're cowards? They're preaching to the choir. They are not protesting to change anyone's opinion; they are posing for their friends. "I was part of the protest in the Loop." It is not a protest when everyone around you cheers. Did their message affect anyone? Did the news media, national or local, cover their statements? No. So, what good did they do? None. They let a bunch of anti-war people know that war is bad. It was masturbation pure and simple. It was posing for their friends. For true bravery, they should go to the conservative suburbs and protest. Or better yet, go to the seat of Missouri's government and protest there. You know, places where your message might get heard by someone who doesn't agree with you. True bravery is not preaching to the choir; it is preaching to the non-believers. Because the choir will not argue with you. The choir will look upon you with Doe-eyes and swoon over your political activitism. But it's posing; it's public masturbation. Try to change the mind of someone who doesn't agree with you. But if you expect them to listen to you with an open mind, then listen to them with an open mind. This is the only way America will go forward. This is only way we can take our country back from the far right and far left who control our politicians. So, if you feel you must protest, do so. I encourage protest, but be intellectually honest and protest somewhere that people don't agree with you. Protest somewhere that you have the ability to affect change. Don't just pose and preen for likeminded individuals. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| Today is a light hearted blog. Bloggville has been a little too blue for me. I feel I should be writing my posts with Muddy Waters in the background. Anyways, as much as it is hard to believe, mid-terms are next week. My poetry class has been a lot of fun. I'm more of a short story writer, but I enjoy this poetry class. The professor makes it fun and interesting. For some reason, I have this idea in my head of poetry classes being this dry, academic lecture on the esoteric properties of poetry masters. Luckily for me, this is nothing like that. It is a class that workshops a lot of poems. I am definitely glad that I took it, but I just have to admit that I am not a poet. I'm okay with that. I know my interests, and I just won't put as much time into poetry as I do fiction. But, this class has opened my eyes to what is going on in poetry today. It's pretty sweet. As a short story writer, I recommend to any fiction writer to take a class in poetry. It helps. It helps with rhythm, tone, symbolism and it's writing. I believe any type of writing is a good thing. It's practice and is only good for you. Rhythm and tone are what I'm hoping to get from this class, but I'm learning that it's hard for anyone. My professor is going to lecture, hopefully, tonight about it. I'm on pins and needles waiting for this information. Hopefully, I get it tonight!!!!! So, everybody smile today!!!! Try to write something upbeat or funny or joyful. I'll leave you with my all time favorite poem The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams: so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens Beautiful, beautiful. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| This is going to be a great week. This weekend, I will finally buy a washer and dryer. I have been without a washer and dryer since the ex walked out and took the ones we bought together. (She paid for them, so I didn't mind.) But, finally, finally, this weekend, I will buy a set for myself. I'm getting my bonus this week at work, and it's a very good amount. However, I've given myself some rules that part of the money will go to debt from the marriage. That's right, I have debt. It sucks, I know. I can't do anything about it, but I'm working on it. So, the plan is to buy the washer and dryer. Luckily for me, I had enough clothes to last me between visits to my parents. Now, however, I can clean when I feel like it. Yay! This is just another step in moving on my married life. It is over, but some things still stick from it. It's like bad hangover that aspirin can't cure. I don't think about it, too much. In fact, I hadn't really connected the washer and dryer thing until I started typing. But these affects on my life will continue. I have debt from the marriage. I have lots of debt from school, and I have a house that honestly, I can't afford and can't afford to sell. Somehow, though, I've kept afloat. I've had to borrow some money from my retirement to help, and Mom and Dad have given me a loan. I'm so lucky to have them. Still, I planned down to pennies. I had budgeted to have $100 per month to have fun with. Somehow, I have paid my lawyer's bills, cut down my credit card debt and still have a positive number in my savings account. I worked a ton of overtime last year, and my parents helped me at my lowest point. My other goal this week is to refinance my house. With the lower rates, if I can refinance, I can afford my house and not much else. Honestly, that's fine with me. I will hold onto this house for another year or two depending on when the market bounces back. I get a paycheck on a bi-weekly basis, which means every two weeks. Since there are 52 weeks in the year, I get 26 paychecks. Now, as most of you know, there are twelve months in a year so I get two paychecks for ten months and three paychecks for two months. This is great, and it has a positive effect, I get two free paychecks a year. They are not budgeted, but they are spent. So, why is this a good thing? Well, this will leave me with play money for each month. My fun money will have to come from the two free paychecks. Yay! I will have fun money, and I am putting money back into my 401k. When the ex walked, a third of my income left with her. I had to stop saving for retirement. I was saving 8% of my pay per year towards my diaper and ensure years. I had to stop contributing, which made me feel like a failure more than anything. I worked hard and sacrificed books and dinners and other toys to save that money. But now, I'm saving again, not the 8% of 2006, but better than the 0% of 2007. So, I've really had to plan and work hard to get my finances to line up. I am working with my father, a certified public accountant, to set up some plans for reducing my debt, keeping the home that I love, saving for retirement and still be able to go out on dates. So, why am I telling you this? Why am I putting my biggest shame out for the world to see? Why do I talk about finances when it is so taboo in this country? Because I'm terrible with money, and I have a problem with it. I have found other things, like my divorce and car troubles, to mask the issue that I am not good with money. I deal with these other things rather than face up to an even worse issue. I scrape by, but I couldn't afford a child at the moment. I couldn't support anyone but myself (and the two cats). Sure, I could give excuses like the typical American has credit card debt. Or I can change them. I'm tired of making excuses; I'm tired of scraping by. And for whatever reason, admitting to bloggville my issues has helped me kick some of them in the ass. This is the most embarrassing thing I could type up here. Honestly, I think I'd rather stand naked in a Macy's display window than type this post. But, the only way to conquer a challenge is head on, so no more hiding, no more denying. It's time to tighten the belt. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| Have ever told you how much I love my job? Well, I do. I love it; solving problems and puzzles makes me happy. I love that click when the lock on my thinking opens. I love digging in and finding why something isn't working. Then, I have to figure out what will make it work. It's just great, and I'm sitting here at my desk on Saturday. I would rather be here figuring this out than at my house right now. Is that weird? Not that I care, but is it? I'm having a better Saturday sitting here at work getting ready for a meeting on Monday than I would at home or at a bookstore or out to dinner. That's strange for me. I typically think of myself as a lazy person. But I guess I'm not lazy; I just don't work hard at things I don't enjoy. Or is that laziness? I don't know. But if it's something that I really enjoy, I put all I have into it. This new program that I'm on is very challenging and fun. I've even put in unpaid overtime for this new project. That's how much fun I'm having at work. I plan to enjoy it while it lasts because not everything about this job is fun. The fun will go away for a while, but it seems to come back after a while, too. That's why I love this job and this company. I hope to never leave this company, which might be incredibly naive considering that the average workers changes careers five times in their life. It's also incredibly naive because most workers move to different companies to advance their careers and increase their paychecks. I do want to advance my career and increase my paycheck, but I want to do it inside this company. I have noticed that I have an intense loyalty to a company that hires me. Some people consider it stupid because well, I'm just a cog in a machine. I'm not the head cog in the machine, nor do I own the machine. So, this must indicate that the machine is taking advantage of me, or that I'm not maximizing my full worth or earning opportunity. Maybe this is true; I don't know. I can't be objective about my own life; all I know is that I want this company to succeed. No, I want this company to dominate its competition. I want the shareholders of this place (of which, I am a very, very, very, very tiny member) to maximize the return on their investment. I want our customers to get the best product this planet has to offer. So, maybe I'll never get rich being a cog in this machine, but I rather be here and be happy. I guess that I'll have to settle for a different meaning of rich than that involving money. And best of all, working this job, let's me pay the bills so I can write on the side. That's a great thing, right there. Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
| Happy love day to all you lovers out there! I hope everybody is having a great day. I think I'm coming down with a cold. See ya'll tomorrow! Grifter Courage doesn't roar. It's that quiet voice at the end of the day that whispers, "I will begin again, tomorrow." |
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