Linda Ronstadt Obsession

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Right when you think nothing new can possibly come into your life you find yourself buying your first Linda Ronstadt vinyl record at some some guy’s garage sale. Then you end up buying another and another at a used record store where the guy gives you a funny look for buying Linda Ronstadt records. For $1-3 a record you can’t really lose.

I’ve found myself with a new obsession that has inspired me to take a different turn in life. I’m going to build a time machine that will take me back to any year in the 1970s to become a Linda Ronstadt stalker.

She probably lived in some gated mansion in California where I will show up with roses in hand. She’ll come out sooner or later probably in a robe to get her daily newspaper. A look of concern will be on her face but being as polite as she is she’ll smile and ask, “can I help you?”

” Miss Ronstadt, I’m your biggest fan from the year 2016.”

She’ll say “thank you,” and I’ll have both hands visible so that she’ll be less worried of weaponry. As she begins to turn around she turns back to look at me when I gently yell, “Linda!”

“You WILL love me.”

 

 

McDonald’s and Molestation

In grade 6 my teacher offered to take me to the nearby McDonald’s for reasons that didn’t make sense to me but I didn’t care why because I was going to get McDonald’s. He made me promise not to tell any of the other students in the class though because you know, it would seem unfair. I would have probably got my ass kicked if the other kids found out. All I had to do was get a consent form signed by a parent or guardian.

Most people only had one but I had both at the time. Uncle Bill, who was the guy we were living with was a bit reluctant but ended up signing it. His 19-year-old son, Greg, who happened to be couch surfing there at the time took the opportunity as usual to bug me. “Oh, he’s going to take you to McDonald’s and then on the way back he’s going to have his way with you in the bushes…hahahaha.”

This child molestation stuff was bizarre to me. It wasn’t something that was ever talked about. What was he going to do to me behind the bushes? My teacher and Uncle Bill had met once before at one of those Teacher-Parent meetings where they would talk about how I was a nice kid but not much else. My grades stunk and so did my attitude. The teachers would always have difficulty finding encouraging stuff to say about me. “I think he’s excited about the upcoming ski trip.”

“Hey look, it’s my Uncle Bill.” I remember so vividly at McDonald’s the look on both of their faces. I didn’t know it at the time but Uncle Bill had a look that said, “I’m watching you, don’t you dare even think about those bushes.” The look on my teacher’s face said, “he’s worried I’m going to take the kid behind the bushes.” Now that I think about it, it must have been kind of awkward for both of them…more awkward for Mr. Wall since Uncle Bill never felt awkward. If I had to guess, the reason why my teacher felt compelled to take me to McDonald’s was because initially him and Uncle Bill kind of hit it off because they were both from Ukraine.

I didn’t end up getting molested. Sorry for the boring ending.

A Year of Unemployment

Unemployment and I are no strangers to each other. The only difference is that I get older but unemployment remains ageless. I’m still unemployed, in the classical sense anyway. What’s not so typical is that I’ve somehow managed to be in a better financial position than when I was employed. If it continues to work out I’ll let you know. If it doesn’t I’ll also let you know.

The idea of grinding it out 5 days a week is horrifying to me now. I see people working their jobs and if it wasn’t for previous experience I wouldn’t be able to understand how they do it. There’s a different set of reasons on why people work their jobs but 2 of the main ones are to not be homeless and to maintain a certain degree of status within society. Being part of society usually translates into doing what most people do.

My previous job was neither stressful or difficult. It was a comfortable gig but one can often become comfortably miserable. It can be easier to play in the pit of fire if you’re used to the burns than to jump out to the unknown.

The periods of unemployment during my 20s always had the hope that a better job would come along which I guess it did but it always left me with the same eventual feeling of wanting to quit. The jobs were only better because they were either less shitty or paid more money, both of which will always lose their luster.

Having learned the hard way which will tend to happen when you don’t grow up having inspiring and supportive people around you, I knew I had to do something vastly different. Sometimes you only learn when you’ve exhausted all other options.

I gave in to advice that many people preach but never practice. “Do what you want.” I wanted to help people who needed help so I signed up to volunteer to help old people buy groceries and to also get them to their medical appointments. It’s been an exceptional experience and between that and taking care of the dog I believe I have improved immensely as a person. I have new appreciation for the line, “do what you would do if you didn’t need the money.”

Another adage that finally burned into my consciousness is, “no risk, no reward.” If you take the route that offers security it’s almost guaranteed to show you mediocrity at best. Mediocre is subjective but if you’re not feeling proud about what you’re doing then it’s probably mediocre and it’ll probably lead to misery.

“Who cares what other people think.” I care because it pisses me off sometimes but I just don’t care as much. Every big decision that I have made in the last 5 years has been met with immense criticism from people and conventional wisdom. Amazingly they’ve been appearing to be the best decisions I could have made. If hardly anyone is criticizing your life decisions then you’re probably doing something wrong unless if your main goal is acceptance. However, if everyone is telling you that the person you are about to marry is a bad idea then you might have to reconsider.

It’s not all roses around here. It’s more like a garden that has potential to bloom. But it’s still better than a garden waiting to die. All of this could still end up blowing up in my face. At least this time I’m trying. All the other times I just surrendered. We’ll see what happens.

 

 

 

Playing Devil’s Advocate

The Canadian Immigration website crashed last night due to high volume from Americans entertaining refuge. I think it might be an overreaction. Missiles aren’t blowing up Wisconsin cheese factories and there is still clean drinking water coming out of the faucets. Give it a few days and people will quit the dramatic idea like a new year’s resolution. People leave places in droves in countries like Syria not America. Besides, it’s going to be great again, remember? If you think your life is shitty in America it probably means you don’t qualify to relocate to Canada. If you’re still keen though and a good looking woman, I will sacrifice my single status for you.

People are saying it’s the end of the world. Apparently Trump being president will be more catastrophic than the World Wars, Cuban Missile Crisis, Cold War, The Great Depression and The Great Recession since none of those events led to the end of America. The Dow Jones is over 18,000, Apple will probably come out with another iPhone and you’re still shitting on clean drinking water. I know the Trump win is the most serious and upsetting event since Buster Douglas knocked out Mike Tyson but I think it will be okay.

Trump is thought to have no respect for women because of his ‘grab’em by the pussy’ comment 10 years ago and other remarks. There was this other president, Bill Clinton, that probably did his fair share of pussy grabbing while he was president and while in the White House. We don’t even know about every detail and every woman he possibly fondled during his 2 terms.

 

I was going to say Donald Trump is not a racist but after looking up the definition of the term I suppose he would qualify but I swear that the dictionary definition has changed over the years. A racist used to be defined as a person who hated another person solely for their race. In our liberal and progressive society if you say burritos suck you might be thought of as a racist.

According to the current definition of a ‘racist,’ we are all probably considered racists. If you had to pick someone to park your vehicle and your choices were a white, black or Asian person…who would you not choose? You don’t have to say it out loud. Racially stereotyping does not make someone a racist. Acting disgusted with Trump is the socially acceptable thing to do. It’s like not telling someone that you ate McDonald’s 5 times this week. I’m already at 3…shhhhh.

Being able to predict the future has always been a very admirable trait that’s why so many continue to pretend they can but with poor results. No one knows what’s going to happen they only know what they want to believe. If life isn’t a joke, yesterday’s result sure doesn’t support that. Give him a chance. He might build that wall and make them pay for it.

This can’t be all that surprising. George W. Bush got elected for 2 terms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unambitious Plans

Getting 8 hours of sleep is a good start to the day. I hit the bag briefly, walked the dog, ate the organic bok choy I grew in my backyard and then made plans to drink wine. It’s 2 PM, if I start drinking now I can drink the whole bottle throughout the day and it won’t be so bad. Showing up at the liquor store at 2 PM with an unshaven face makes people think you’re an alcoholic loser. They showed that they’ve decided I have no pride and dignity left by sending me away without even a paper bag to hide my shame.

What obligations do I have tomorrow? Nothing? Well then, maybe I’ll just throw some MDMA in my system. What’s stopping me? I’m young, invincible and possess the restraint of an immigrant to ward off the possibility of spiraling down to the gutter of drug and alcohol abuse.

Fear not, before the abuse I had a smoothie derived from 2 small oranges, organic yogurt, banana and hemp protein powder. Chock-full of anti-oxidants to fight off the evil intentions of the devil.

You drank a whole bottle of wine in one sitting? Yes, fuck you. I’m still better than you. I’m the coolest motherfucker to type his way onto WordPress. Freshly Press can clean the stains from my underwear.

Winners and Losers

There was a journalist from The Guardian as a guest on a radio show and he was explaining how back in his day there was no such thing as a ‘loser.’ Maybe there was but it didn’t carry the same meaning as it does today. He went on to say how in today’s world, ‘loser’ is quite possibly the worst label you can give to someone.

With the inequality widening between the rich and not rich, and the shrinking of the middle class, staying away from the loser status takes a painful amount of effort. ‘Average’ is no longer as simple as getting some unskilled job and putting in the years until pension eligibility. Now to be average you have to dazzle people with some fancy job title like, “Director of your Mother’s Butthole.”

To feel like a winner you have to be the best in the group that you identify with or be that person that everyone else wants to be. You know, that guy you wish whose beautiful wife would divorce him and take all his money so that you would feel better about your mediocre life. I’m a hater, I know. But it makes for better entertainment, doesn’t it?

The goal in life for most people is not to be a winner but not be a loser. People want to think they are pursuing happiness but happiness in our society is synonymous with not being a loser.

You’ll often hear advice spawned from idealism such as “don’t judge,” “be happy with what you have,” or “you shouldn’t compare yourself to others.” Such advice is for the truly enlightened but not for people. Everyone wants to feel like a winner so they strategically post snippets of their life in the form of photos and one-liners on social media to enter themselves in the unofficial contest of acceptability.

Every city has their affluent and not so affluent parts of town. Growing up on the less affluent side and meeting people from the more affluent side as a young person has shown me what will generally come to be due to your socioeconomic class with all other aspects being equal.

A good looking woman can have the world by the balls or see her life diminish to an existence of handjobs for $5. Often it’s the set of balls she chooses that will dictate her journey to heaven or hell. Unfortunately, when you are a good looking woman every set of balls will try to get with you and they’ll bring out their biggest arsenal of lies with them. It’s a position of big rewards that can come with big consequences. If you’re a 3 out of 10 not many assholes will bother trying to ruin your life to fulfill their desires. Tragedy waiting to happen will just pass you by without a double-take.

Being a good looking woman also allows you choices and the nagging possibility that you can do better than the guy that you have. When the wager doesn’t come to fruition the bitterness ensues along with the bad emotional decisions that come with it. It’s a game of big stakes.

To me a winner is someone who lives their life doing what they truly want. Many people tell themselves that they are but usually their life is just a compromise between what they don’t want, haven’t realized and what they’re too scared to go after. I’m not a winner. I might be a loser. The game isn’t over yet so we’ll have to see.

This post has been brought to you by people on social media trying to rub it in my face that their life is better than mine. That’s clearly their intent! How dare they! I strike back by writing on my blog that no one will read. That will show them. #winner

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slack Off Halloween

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I didn’t even have the motivation this year to give it teeth. I did as little as possible by buying a mini pumpkin. I suppose I could have went one step lower if I took an orange and drew a face on it.

One step lower even would be turning off the lights, hiding in the room where the light cannot be seen from the front of the house with the attitude of “fuck the kids.” But remembering how I felt about houses that didn’t give out candy when I was a kid pushes me to participate in the festivities.

To further my lack of Halloween spirit I bought a box of chocolates containing only 50 pieces because I didn’t want to spend more money. As they say, “pay now or pay later.” I ran out of chocolates early but instead of hiding the pumpkin and turning off the lights I started giving out 50 cents to each kid. And the survey says!….. kids rather have money than chocolate. Future capitalists in the making. Apparently the children are our future. The future is doomed.

Next year I’ll dress up the dog. I’m sure she’ll be delighted.

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