Upon a Midnight clear

Damn, those company Christmas parties.

This year, I went to my company's party stag as Wifey was not feeling real well after fighting the CRUD for over a week. All told, the party was a great time. It was on a private floor of this multi- level drunk-plex, so when it came time to shut it down we could just go to one of the other levels. There were almost 20 of us having a great time so we kep-it-goin downstairs.

I was pimped-out pretty well in black on black (it's slimming, right?) with a deep gold shirt under the camel hair jacket. So I'm talking to a cohort from another division, drink in my right hand where it usually is, left hand in my pocket (where it usually is if I'm talking to someone on my left) and as I agree with what he's saying my head is nodding. I may have been nodding emphatically as a result of a good bass track thumping at the same time. Anywho- down the stairs comes this cougar (you know, she's on the prowl and looking for a fleshy target...) and as we were near the stairs I glanced in that general direction, my head still a-bobbing in the "yup, yer right, I hear ya" mode. The cougar says something indistinguishable- it might have been a warning, I couldn't see if her ears were back or not due to the seriously spiked 'do- and then she pounces, grabbing my arm and tearing my left hand outta it's resting place.

"YOU'RE MARRIED!!" the cougar screams. Yes, I am. Was this some sort of guessing game? Should I blurt out that she's divorced and dropped her kids off at the laundramat? Nah, that would spoil all the fun I think she had envisioned. So instead, I just asked if she was doing a poll or something. "You were trying to hook-up and you're married!" she screamed again. Oh- NOW I get it. A guy nodding means he's trying to screw you with his eyes. Wow, dating must be really hard nowadays. So I fight the cougar off and it scampers into the bushes to use the loo.

The cohort and I finish our conversation and maybe 5 minutes later the cougar springs unsuspectingly from the rocky ledge she must be walking nowadays, circling her prey. "I didn't mean to scare you" she purrs. "It's just you're the best looking guy here and you were nodding at me," she continues. [I need to clarify something for you folks: this place holds 1,500 people easy. There's 4 or 5 places to eat, most of which become some sort of nightclub. I'm on the high end of the age brackets present, my six-pack is usually in the fridge, there's NO way she's mistaking me for someone THAT good looking. But thanks for the positive stroke nonetheless.] The cougar is still circling distantly, both implying disinterest and looking for that one wrong move so she can strike again, hoping to fell her prey. "So can you dance?" This purr sounded breathy, but maybe I'm slurring her speech. Anyway, I tell her yeah, but I'm no good at it.

Apparently, that's what cougars prefer, as this one latched onto my wrist and dragged me out to the dimly lit dance floor. There also must be a specific way to dance with a cougar, cuz this one left no question as to where my hands were supposed to be: firmly planted on her ASS! Are you kidding me?! Where was this species of wild game back when I was in college? If that's not bad enough, when you lift your hand from a cougar's ass it uses its lightning-fast reflexes to bat your hand back onto its ass. Through all this uncomfortable time, I WAS able to find out that the cougar's got kids the same ages as mine (I still had to resist the urge to ask her what laundramat she dropped them off at, though!) As hints weren't striking their target, I distracted the cougar with the ol' "Coworker, five o-clock" warning. It worked perfectly: the cougar spun 180 to protect her booty- er, prey. Released from my bonds, my hands and I bounded back to the herd.


Now I know why the male members of the species are prone to that "I don't see nuthin' " gaze just above the heads of the crowd. I think it's got something to do with avoiding eye contact or playing dead or sumthin'. So fellas, protect yourselves. Never go to the watering hole alone, all eyes are on you. I'm one of the lucky ones- this rabid animal not only attacked prey in a crowd but she also attacked in the light. I learned from watching "Old Yeller" when I was a kid that only rabid animals will attack prey that's in the light of a fire or daylight.

Still counting my blessings-

Today's message

A pretty creative advertisement from the folks at Hobby Lobby. Have a great day, all!

Suicide just sucks, people!

Jazzy Jen sums it up best: horrible. I'm talking about the tragic suicide in the family of Indianapolis Colts head coach Tony Dungy, his own son! I can't imagine the pain they must be in. I grew up in the same town as Tony but never knew him as he was about 8 years older than I. My brother played against him in high school and I can only remember that he said he was quick. I remember how proud of him the town was as he moved into the college and professional levels. Tony was somewhat of a hero to me, such a successful person coming from my blue collar town; a town left behind by the auto industry. He was one of those few bright spots I recall growing up. It really is so sad that this kind of thing has happened to such a great person. Jen also posted this link to a well-written article on ESPN.com.

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I know that many of you have been touched by suicide's suffocating tentacles at some point in your lives. If not, please count your blessings and then count them again because you are truly lucky. The anguish, doubt and rage you experience have few equals. I've lost more than I care to ever count: a good family friend, a woman I loved, and I nearly lost my sister, too. There were others I knew from high school but were not necessarily close to; each was one too many. Thankfully, I was spared the most grisly facets of their deaths as they did not occur when I was nearby; however the pain of not being able to pay my respects and mourn with the support of others affected by each loss will remain forever.

I am thankful, too, that I had 5 minutes to kneel beside, pray for, cry, and, well - SEE Mick's face one more time. I could not attend his funeral as my brother had literally JUST entered recovery that week, and my employer at that time would only allow me one day off. As much as it pained me to "abandon" their family at such a disastrous time, I felt that it would be better to be there for my brother, his life could still be saved. My family and Mick's were very close; our parents were the equivalent of "best friends" when you're in elementary school, so I knew him well. We were the same age, went to the same schools, and spent weeks during the summer at their cottage on Lake Michigan. The shadow of mental illness slowly set-upon Mick after his father died when we were in the 10th grade, and through the next 6 years it marched- growing steadily and without quarter- until his life ended that Friday in June.

I was in Albany visiting my fiance' that weekend, and clearly remember my Mom's voice- the hesitation and deep breath she took to brace herself- when she called to give me the news. I had heard that only once before when my couin's first child died from SIDS just minutes after he dropped him off at their daycare. "What's wrong?" I asked as I braced myself. Being locked into an arline itinerary, my only chance for visitation was Sunday evening after my flight got back. I was practically psychotic after my flight arrived early in the evening, I still had to get a taxi to my car, and then drive the 80 minutes back to our hometown.

I arrived in the fading twilight as the last family members were leaving and the director was actually locking-up for the night. I don't really remember parking my car, or closing the door, or even turning it off. I can only clearly remember hugging his sister and falling apart from the explosion of emotion and the thought of not arriving in time. Even after being allowed inside for a few minutes, . . . just not how I wanted to say goodbye.

Mick is buried in a rolling cemetary near where his father is also buried in a quiet corner under majestic old pines. When the wind moves through the trees it sounds as though the spirits are murmuring, yet I can't for the life of me make out their message.

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I found out about Karan's death when I returned to college to start my second year. We had met and briefly dated the April before as the school year was finishing. Our plans for the summer took us in separate directions so things ended amicably enough. I ran into her roommate from the previous term and asked about Karan and was met with a simple "She didn't come back." I knew Karan was having a hard go of things that previous term so I just put it in my mind that she dropped out, another one shaken loose from the tree of higher learning. I was not prepared for the news her ex-roomie gave me later that night after she pulled me aside, telling me that there was something she wanted to tell me that afternoon but didn't feel it was the best setting. (Yeah, somehow it was better to pull me aside and break it to me easy when I'm half in the bag, and alone in the dark.) I can't be bitter though, she was very deliberate in not telling me that afternoon and I really can't imagine how heavy the burden of knowing what she did must have been. Poor timing aside, the flood of emotion she released by telling me was just plain huge.

I feel bad that I didn't know her family, that I've never made the time when I drive by her hometown to stop at the library and get the details about where they laid her to rest so I can visit and pay my respects, that the pain in her life was so great that she put the car in the garage and let it carry her to a better place, that her family didn't put an obituary in the paper so her friends could say goodbye, that THAT better place was where no one could ever see her again, that I could never see her again, hold her again, be intoxicated by her presence again, talk til a new day dawned again. Never, again.

Although there are many signs of trouble in someone's life, one of the hardest things to accept is that the average Jim, Jane and Jerry are not trained to see them and often NOBODY sees it coming, and that it is not their fault when someone they love attempts or commits suicide. You learn from it, but you can't let it kill you too because it is what they wanted, and they take careful steps to succeed. Often those that don't are crying out in pain. Before he died, Mick made a number of phone calls to various people, one to my brother asking if they could meet for lunch. Unfortunately he was unable to meet with Mick that day, and Mick died that night. Again- there was no way to see that Mick was saying goodbye, but it haunts my brother still.

Let those that you love KNOW it, help those that need it, respect those that are suffering from mental illness and learn more about it to help reduce the stigma and the shame.

Flippin Idiots

I am a candidate for Road Rage Class.

The scene: Saturday, 6pm. I'm late for the company Christmas party, Wifey was a late dropout due to the CRUD from hell still lingering so I was behind the 8-ball after calling the sitter to cancel (Wifey's choice, really!) So, I'm driving these city streets a bit fast, and come up behind a Chevy Abortion van (some call it the Astro, but have you ever ridden shotgun in the damn thing? WHERE does your right foot go?)

Anyway, the Chevy is doing 25, tic-toc-tic-toc I'm going nuts, but the thing shows me the light of day as it angles to the right curb while approaches a corner. "Ahhhh, finally the bugger's gonna make a right and get outta my way" I think to myself as I ease a bit left to clear its back bumper. Then, just as my car noses past his back bumper I see the left tail-light blink and the fecker's car is edging- no, turning- left, HARD!

Oh no you don't! Keep edging left and lay on the horn (the road was slippery with lake-effect grease, there was no way I would have been able to stop.) So, after I get my car under control I see in my mirror he's wiggling a bit, stops for a moment, and then hits the brights and guns after me. That's all I need.

He comes right up on me, flashes, etc., and tails me for a few miles. Really, what did he hope to accomplish? Lesson learned: give the ghetto cruiser plenty of time to make up his meth-head mind and stay back, WAY back.

Drive safe, all.

Peace~

KUDOS, MENUDOS

Gotta give props to the GVSU Football and Volleyball teams, capturing Division II National Championships on consecutive Saturdays. The ladies went to the hostile confines of Kearney, NE last weekend and beat the #1 ranked Nebraska-Kearney team on their home court. Not to be outdone, the men followed-up this weekend by winning the National crown for the 3rd time in 4 years, besting Northwest Missouri State by a score of 21-17.

Both Wifey and I earned our degrees from Grand Valley, and it's amazing to see this school progress from what was a 5,000 student population back in tha day (ok, late 80's for those counting) to a burgeoning student body somewhere north of 23,000 today. They say they want to stay in Division II, but I'm beginning to wonder what the NCAA has to say about that relative to the student population.



KUDOS ALSO TO THE BEARCATS OF NORTHWEST MISSOURI-----

Those guys played a great game. I honestly think they outplayed GVSU, especially when you consider that their student body is half the size of GVSU's (but GVSU has a large graduate program as well as regional campuses.) NWMSU barely made the playoffs with a record of 6-3, and then opened up a six-pack of whup-ass as they pounded their way through Division II's playoff bracket (who needs a BCS, anyway?) This team was inspired, and played all-out straight on football with awesome running, passing, catches and big-league hits that made me cringe from the comfort of the cushy furniture at my brother's house (great job hosting, bro'!)

The Bearcats fell just short, dropping a go-ahead touchdown pass in the end-zone and then two plays later completing a pass to the 4 yard line as time thankfully ran out. I think winning meant more to the Bearcats as they had tasted the National Championship twice before in 1998 and 1999; their vengeful march through their playoff bracket a strong testament to their capabilities. I almost feel that the Lakers 'escaped' with a victory, and would like for them to play for the National Championship again in 2006 to settle the matter. As the seniors on each team would no longer be there it wouldn't be the same, but you know what I mean.

So congrats to the Bearcats, they done good this year. And, I finally was able to see my alma mater take 'em on after a couple of near-misses. To next year: huzzah!

Picture time

Today's post is motivated by Tiffany. Visit, and often.

Her assignment was to post a picture from your youth. I just happened across some a few days ago, so this one was easy. Here goes. . . . . . .




Handsome l'il devil, huh? Look at the stylish, Metrosexual turtleneck and hairstyle. What a hottie!!

Season's Greetings and Happy Holidays to all.