Candor

The life I have been dealt has not been the easiest thing, but it hasn't been as hard as many others'. From a privileged perspective, I feel cheated.

Almost eight and half years ago I lost my dad. No, I didn't lose him in the clothes section of Sears or something. He was taken from me by what I believed to be the Hand of God. Later in life I would still believe it was the Hand of God, but not the merciful God I formerly believed in. It became the hated Hand of God. I damned him in my mind and heart. I still believe there is no reason he was taken from me. It was a massive heart attack. Atherosclerosis, the doctors call it. Hardening of the arteries.

Tim Russert died today of a heart attack, but that's not what made me think of this.

The death of my father led me into a dark time in my life. For more than two years I was self-pitying at times. At others, I was a denier. I denied everything. The only thing I couldn't deny was the fact that my dad would never come home again. To this day it's hard for me to think about because I don't want to remember what I'm missing.

Two years after my dad died I began dating Alexa. Our sixth anniversary is tomorrow, but that's not why I'm writing this.

Alexa has done more for me than she can know. I never did drugs. I never drank alcohol. I was, however, seeing no end to the pain in my heart. I had no one to talk to. My family has never been much about hugging or emotional support. My family never turned a cold shoulder, either. We just don't operate the way many other people do.

Just over six years ago, I let my feelings about life, the unfairness and cruelty of it, out to Alexa. I can never make her realize just how important that night was for me. Not only did I grieve for the loss of my father, but I also grieved for my grandmother. She had passed the year before. Of course, it was my mother's mother.

My mom has not had an easy life. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1997. She survived. I can't imagine life without her. Without her, my dad would surely have died sooner from the stress of raising four kids. My mom has shaped the way I look at life. The older I get, the more I see how alike we are. We deal with things in the same way; that is to say we cope and move on.

However, it is impossible to simply "move on" after the death of a parent, especially when that parent passes while you are still dependent on parents.

I will never feel completely healed (if you can call it that). I will forever miss my dad. Not only am I missing him, but he's missing out on me. I'm sure he would be proud of me. I've graduated college and am engaged to a wonderful woman. My life is shaping out to be a success and I just wish he could share in it. I never knew him as a man; I only knew him as the mythical creature that all parents are to adolescent kids. I knew he felt pain. I knew he felt joy. I did not, however, ever think he would die. Death before that experience was something that happened to other people, not me. I wish I had asked my dad more questions. I wish I could get to know him for who he was; his thoughts on politics, baseball, life in general. I'll never know.

I feel I've been cheated.

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time - the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes - when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever - there comes another day, and another specifically missing part." - A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving

Whatever happened to objectivity?

Journalists are supposed to be fair and objective. Their job is to report on what happened or is happening through interviews and facts. What has happened to that ideal?

Twenty-four hour news networks and the internet, that's what.

I'm not saying that the internet is a bad thing. In fact, it's great for finding news from around the world. However, too much of it is based on opinion and speculation rather than fact.

The 24-hour news networks (i.e. CNN, MSNBC, FOX News, CNBC) have perverted this ideal beyond comprehension. To name a few of the culprits on these channels: Keith Olbermann (MSNBC), Contessa Brewer (MSNBC), Bill O'Reilly (Fox News) Anderson Cooper (CNN). Each of these anchors is either completely full of him/herself or are just completely stupid.

I'll start with Anderson Cooper. He has this perpetually concerned look on his face. No matter what he's talking about, it concerns him. Everything. Even when he's on magazine covers he's concerned. I can't stand it.

Keith Olbermann and Bill O'Reilly are perversions of journalism for the same reasons. Olbermann's show claims to be about news and its analysis, but it seems more like demagoguery to me. His opinion reigns supreme. O'Reilly's show is all about him letting the world know about his off-color and often ridiculous views on everything. He brow-beats guests and tells them their opinion is wrong. There is no fair exchange of opinion when it comes to O'Reilly-time on FOX. (Which is funny because FOX News claims to be "fair and balanced.") Olbermann is a funny guy; if you agree with his opinion (which I often don't). Rather than intelligently pointing to opponents shortcomings and flaws in their arguments, he attacks their grammar and fashion. That kind of behavior should have no outlet on a channel that is supposedly about news. Olbermann's sophomoric antics fit well with the fraternity-style reporting of ESPN (where he originated), but they are ill-placed in the realm of politics.

Contessa Brewer is just plain stupid. She often sticks her foot in her mouth. She shouldn't be on TV. Her show is not about news; it's about entertainment. This clip shows not only her inability to deal with guests that say something unexpected, it's also about the fact that they were running a story about PARIS HILTON. There is only one channel she should be on: E! Entertainment. This is only OK because the entire channel is dedicated to trash like her.

If you see any of these people on TV, I advise you to switch the channel. Or, better yet, turn the TV off.

These "news" networks often don't even break news. The idea of 24-hour news networks is preposterous. How can anyone fill up an entire day, every day, with news. There is a lot going on in the world, but not that much. These news networks are out of hand.

I will probably have more to say about this at a later date.

Best-Selling Author

I have an ambition to become a best-selling author. It will either be novels (probably those books that cost $14.95 in the Literature section of Borders and Barnes and Noble) or children's books.

Some of you may be thinking that it would be odd for me to do children's books since I generally dislike kids. However true that may be, it doesn't mean I can't make money off of them. But if it's to be children's books I need my three other accomplices (you know who you are) to help me come up with story ideas, characters and illustrations.

Look for me on bookshelves and book signings. I may even be on the idiot box because I wrote a book that changed the course of human thought.

Quantum Leap is a good show.

Visions of Paradise

It rained last Friday and I had a visit from God.

Late in my sleep cycle I dreamt I was in church. As I sat in the second pew from the front a person sitting next to me got up and interrupted the Rector during his sermon pleading to be confirmed. This sent the devil into the Rector.

He didn't yell. He didn't scream. He simply went on a tirade.

The new (or what I assumed to be new) topic of the sermon was about Sunday religiosity. His complaint was that people only want to do the various church ceremonies when it's convenient. They do this to say they have a relationship with God and feel better about themselves.

This dream was a portent of things to come. As I sat in the back of the church on Sunday (wide awake), the sermon began.

You see, last week was the annual St. John's Tiger Outing. At the end of May every year the congregation goes to a Detroit Tigers baseball game. (This is easily done, seeing as how the church is about 100 yards from Comerica Park.) Each year the church is packed on this day. It's like a religious holiday (see: Easter, Christmas).

The Rector began his sermon by pointing this fact out. The church was noticeably empty this week. He seemed to know that people would be gone. The disappointment was evident in his voice. However, he did make the present worshipers feel special by saying we were invited to the party being thrown by God (a.k.a. church).

To quote Genesis: Jesus, He knows me.

Frog Island beer puckers my face

So I actually did something yesterday. I went to a lacrosse game with my buddy Katie and Alexa. It was fun, I guess. I had no interest in the two teams playing, so that helps to dampen the excitement. I basically went because Katie coaches the South Lyon middle school lacrosse team and they were at the South Lyon high school playoff game and he asked me to go.

After that we all went to Sidetrack in Depot Town to see an old friend from Circuit City who now lives in Minna-snow-ta. That was definitely cool. I hadn't seen her since a wedding in September. I also saw a few more friends from the Circuit City days. That made the night even better. No crazy stories to relate from these excursions (aside from more proof that Katie might be gay...but I can't be sure).

Never drink Frog Island beer. It's horrible. Maybe it's made with water from the Huron River. Which is probably unsafe due to the high E. Coli content found throughout the watershed area. Which is the main reason Ann Arbor residents have to boil their water more often than other residents of SE Michigan. The ever-special Ann Arborites get their water from the Huron River while the rest of us get it from the Detroit River. (Don't get me wrong. The Detroit River probably isn't much better.) The main difference between the two rivers is the number of dams. These dams back up the water flow along the river, causing standing pools of water that breed E. Coli. It's disturbing. I also would not eat fish caught from the river. Swimming through that stuff can't make the fish a very healthy meal.

I love the Huron River. But don't make me drink its water.

Grilling is a treat. Don't do it in the winter. Asshole.

I found I might be going camping for the 4th of July. I'm excited. I've never been camping and I get to see some great friends I haven't seen for some time.

I'm currently reading a book by former Sports Illustrated columnist Rick Reilly. It's called Hate Mail From Cheerleaders. It's a great book. It's just a collection of 100 of his favorite columns. After reading one called "Nothing but Nets" I decided to donate some money to a cause. This is extremely unlike me. (Please read the article. It's only about 800 words.) See, I usually feel slightly motivated to do something to help someone else but I never follow through. This time I did and I feel pretty good about it. Sometimes helping someone is worth it.

NEW (as of May 27): I'm an idiot. Now the "Nothing but Nets" link actually works. Sorry

Coca-Cola is a teeth eroder

On Tuesday I went to see the Sword at the Magic Stick in Detroit. IT WAS LOUD. Loudest thing I've ever heard. My ears were ringing two days after the concert. I was actually a little scared for the health of my ears after day one. Every other concert I've ever been to has left me with ringing, but it only lasts one day maximum. This concert, however, left me partially deaf for a day and with ringing in day two. Even though it was loud, I really loved it.

My one gripe would be the poor sound quality. After listening to the two opening bands (both sucked) I figured out that every high note would take three years of hearing from me. The speakers also could not handle any high notes so it sounded horrible. That is the fault of the venue, not the bands. So I try not to complain too much.

It was awesome to see a band that is famous (in my eyes) so close for so cheap (only $12). If you're unfamiliar with the Sword but familiar with Guitar Hero II, they play "Freya." One of the guitar players even mingled with the crowd during the openers. It was pretty cool.

I helped a guy from Circuit City move yesterday. That was fun. I hadn't seen him for a couple of weeks and it was definitely nice to help him out. We got most of the heavy lifting done. He's moving in with another former Circuit City co-worker who is female, so I felt really helpful lifting the mattresses. If anyone who reads this is moving this summer, let me know. I would love to help.

I'm reading David Copperfield by Charles Dickens. It is a book I was supposed to finish for one of my classes last semester. I started and now I have to finish. It's torture. It seems like it will never end. So, on Thursday I decided I would start another book. I had borrowed Choke by Chuck Palahniuk from the library a few weeks ago, so that was the book I started around 11:30 a.m. I finished it around 2:30 a.m. Friday morning. I had never read a book in less than 24 hours before (unless it was a children's book). I felt quite accomplished after that. I'm now finishing up Matilda by Roald Dahl. I'm a reading machine.

Aside from that, life has been moving along. I definitely would not call it boring, but there hasn't been a whole lot of noteworthy going on. When I do something REALLY exciting, you'll all know.

One more video.

It is for you...but not for us...

Dear blog readers,

It has been awhile. I have done little. Still unemployed. Not looking for a job.

Why does everyone have to give me the craziest look when I say I don't have a job and that I will be married in a year? I know what's going on with my life and I know my money situation. I, unlike most post-college transients, have no debt. In fact, I came out in the black. I also live at home and I am doing my best to save the environment (not driving. Although that aspect of my life is not purely altruistic. It's hard to justify driving anywhere unless I absolutely have to with gas prices groping the underside of $4 a gallon.) I am okay. My wonderful fiancee is okay with me enjoying my summer. I wish people would not look at me like I'm an idiot. I'm not.

I now walk for an hour everyday without a destination in mind. Surprisingly, it brings back many memories. It is amazing how, in the five years it took me to finish my formal education beyond high school, I completely forgot about my neighborhood, the place I grew up. I hadn't been down some of these streets for at least 3 years. Absolutely amazing. Most things haven't changed. Some have (and not for the better, in most cases).

Candy Cane Park is a vast disappointment for me. I used to play Little League baseball there and some of my fondest memories reside on that dandelion-covered field. The disappointment is in the disrepair of the field. The city will not allow the kids and their families to clean up the field. The weekend before opening day was, traditionally, a day for the league to pick dandelions, fix the fences and rake the field among other things. Unfortunately for the kids playing on the field, the Union of Professional Park Lawn Mowers has caused a ruckus. They say the pre-opening day spring clean is taking their livelihood away. Yet, the field sits in constant disrepair. You can't complain about not having work if you're not going to do it anyway. Unions have outlived their usefulness in some aspects. That's my rant.

Back to walking the neighborhood. Today I walked down streets I walked everyday for 10 years. I essentially walked my the route I traversed to deliver papers. (Ironic that I will be the one writing in the paper after so diligently and professionally delivering for so many years.) It was a walk down memory lane. It brought back some sad memories, as well. Memories of my dad driving me along, yelling at me because I didn't wake up quick enough, betting that I couldn't reach the porch from a certain distance.

When I have kids, even though it's a pain for the parents too, I would like them to have a paper route. Or just a job that teaches them responsibility. Although I bitch about losing my childhood to the route, I see that it shaped my work ethic and helped me develop a sense of money and saving habits. The downside, I now see, is that I am reluctant to travel; seeing it as a way to spend money while not making it. I feel uncomfortable thinking about being in debt, not having that safety valve of a bank account to back me up.

The Candy Cane Park trip (which was actually yesterday), recalled images of Little League; the games, the season-ending picnic (which every year only marked the end of the regular season for me because I was a perennial All-Star. No big deal.), the trophy ceremony. I miss being younger, but even more than that, I miss knowing my dad would always be there for me, whether I was being a little shit (which I often was) or if I was being a decent little/older brother (which was not so often).

Sorry for the trip down memory lane. If it bored you, I hope you stopped reading (which makes this message obsolete). Also, sorry for the lack of links. This isn't a particularly link-y post. Unless of course you hate the links, which in that case, you're welcome.

Note on the title: Title of an improv jam from an unknown (too lazy to get up and look) disc of King Crimson's 4-disc box set, The Great Deceiver. No one will get, no one is meant to.