The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

In the event that you haven't seen this movie, go out and rent it.
Buy it.
Buy two and give one to a friend.
It's a really good movie on it's own, but what really makes it is the fact that it highlights how we should all live.

Benjamin is born old.
Cataracts, arthritis, most of the things that the elderly face everyday.
But as time goes by, Benjamin grows younger.

Wouldn't it be nice if we all lived like that?
What most people fear now is growing old.

We're born young and spend all our best years working towards retirement that, once achieved, most of us are to worn down by the grind to enjoy.

This man, however, starts out old and almost crippled, and works all his older years growing younger.
By the time he can retire, he's only 2o-3o years old.
Everything I wanted at 2o, got it.
Nice house, nice car, wife, children, junk and stuff, everything.

In the end though, it's still the same.
Born unable to take care of ourselves, in diapers, confused, and always in need...
And that's how we usually die.
It's just the middle that changes.
4o in your 4o's no matter what.
But think, your mid life crisis you'd be able to enjoy that sports car you end up buying.


The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Give it a look.

Don't let 'em getcha.

V.V.

If You're in a Happy Relationship, Thank an Ex

I was just thinking about all the things I do that get on my (future) wife's nerves.
How I've grown up from my first girlfriend and how little by little, I am becoming the man I want to be.

But it didn't happen overnight.

Actually, this began with me reading over all my previous posts and seeing how I've grown just here.

Then, as often happens, one thought led to another and I thought of people who have influenced my life.
An ex that, when we were together, told me something is wrong with boots and shorts.
One that taught me what it meant to be responsible.
One that taught me what "through better or worse" really meant.

And I thought about Bella.

We've both had rough pasts and talked about meeting each other before.
What would be different?
Would it be better or worse?

In the end I think if it hadn't been for everyone we met before, we wouldn't have the person we have now.

It's been said, and everyone has heard, there;s someone for everyone.

Some people believe in "The One."
That fabled one perfect person made just for them.
And some may think, "From the billions of people, how will I ever find that one?"
There's some truth to the old saying, though it isn't exactly like it seems.

Through all the mistakes of our previous relationships, we find what we like, and don't like, about the opposite sex.
At the same time learning to better ourselves, and be better, for the next.


Sometime, throughout the day, or week, or anytime really, take a minute and think about an ex, and what you learned from them.
Something that helped you get from them to now.

For me, maybe it was one that taught me what it meant to give without expecting anything in return, maybe it was the one that taught me laughing will ease stress from the tightest places, but if I had to pick only one, it would be the one that taught me to love like a child.

Mind always open, heart always new and fresh, like it's never been broken, and like it's never seen pain.
Ready for the new, mindful of the old, and strong.
Love like you've never loved before.

Everyday.


V.V.

Talking in Code or This Isn't Going to Work Anymore

I just want to touch on something briefly.

Well, a few things.



I got back with my running partner Chuck a few days ago, and I wanted to know if he'd found out any information about something I didn't want to talk about right then.

BUT, if I didn't say something about it, since it wasn't really important, I'd forget all about it.

So I pose the question, in a room full of people...

"Have you heard anything about the thing with the deal?" (Note: There is no deal, thing and deal substitute a person place or thing.)

And he replies, "No. He I haven't talked to him since then."



To the average person, this isn't enough information to know anything at all about anything, but when you're close to the people you work with, you pick up on things.



I've heard that women, when living together for a while, eventually begin their monthly cycle together.

I guess it's kinda like that.

After working in close proximity to a person for a while, you pick up on what they're doing.

At certain periods of the day, in The Hive, I can say, "I'm gonna go do the thing with the stuff."

Everyone knows what I'm gonna do,

Pass or kick trays, pass diet bags, smoke, potty break, wing walk, check the self-harm guys.

It could be almost anything, but they know what it is.



It extends past the Hive though.

We (and maybe everyone) can say something to that affect and be understood by others.

To an extent I don't understand.





I've been back since Wednesday.

I've spent 2 days at my assigned post.

If I count tomorrow, I'll be back 6 days, and in someone elses spot 4.

1/3 of my time spent away from my new job, at my old job.



I wouldn't mind this, but the higher-ups, in their infinite wisdom have told me to learn this new job before next week, because I'm gonna be the lead man really soon.

Wait...

Learn your job quick, in the day I leave you there, because even though it can't be learned in 6 months, we need you to have it down to an art and able to train others by next week.



But we're not gonna let you work there, you'll just have to learn it my osmosis.

You're on the camp, you should know it by now.



I've spent as much time on my new post as I did in the year and a half I spent on utility, roving the camp everyday.



Something is definitely wrong here.



But all I can do is sit around and complain.

What could I do more than bend over and take it up the tailpipe?



I could get formal, and throw some paper around, and I may...

But all it's really going to do is...


I have to be honest.
I started writing this, then the Internet went down on me (grin) and I don't know what I'm talking about anymore.

I wrote it all, but it didn't autosave it all.

So, whatever.

I'm basically alone on the desk tomorrow.
It's gonna be something.


Don't let 'em getcha.

V.V.

The First Day Back or No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

The day started out great.
Went to the doctor.
Got released back to full duty.
Spent some time with Bella.
Took a nice long shower alone.
That wasn't so great, but it's the first time I haven't needed help washing my armpits.
Went to work.
A little late but, I was there.
Anyway, when I get there, they tell me I'm going to the hospital.
Inmate #23752378 (random number) had a diabetic problem and needed help out.

So myself, the ass clown I wrote about in "Assistance is Futile," and another officer are watching over this guy while a nurse takes some blood and he says "I've gotta pee."
No big deal until...
The nurse gives him a plastic pee pot and he won't go.
It takes this nurse about less than 5 minutes to get tired of this and threaten (and use!) a catheter.
I thought there would be a slight downtime to get supplies ready.
Little did I know that they come pre-packaged now.
Pull this tab empty contents, clean and insert.
I'm already close because he's been less than helpful thus far.
Now I'm calling over the fellas to grab a hand (because I know he's not gonna want this) and maybe a shoulder.
Upon insertion, his hands move, he tries to sit up, and tries to pull his legs up to get away from "the tube."
Awesome.

Really the only eventful thing that happened with Inmate # 52987325.


Only a little while later, however, there's a little commotion outside the room.
A nurse calls for security.
I poke my head out the door.
She points down the hall.
I look, and wait.
No security.
She calls on the radio.
I look, and wait.
No security.

I can't wait anymore.
I gave security a chance.
I shouldn't go, I'm not covered by anyone if something happens.
But something is already happening.
Someone may be getting hurt.
You never know in a hospital.
My brain has already heard 10-5 (staff needs immediate assistance) twice.
Back on the ranch, if you're in a spot that needs someone, you have to stay.
But we're not on my ranch, and there's two other guys to watch Inmate VanWinkle (read: sleeping)

I grab the nearest phone booth, change into my blue tights, I can't find my cape though.
What to do, what to do...

The suit really doesn't pop without the cape but gosh, I think I left it back at the BatCave.
Oh, wait.
It's tangled up in the back of the pants.

OK.
On my way.
Officer 2 sees me moving and sends Officer 3 (the fake dog turd guy) to assist.
(I'd like to take this time to point out that O2 doesn't trust O3 enough to sit with a sleeping inmate, so he HAS to be sent with me.)
When I arrive on the scene, it's just a drunk pill popper, and he doesn't want help from the nurses trying to save his overdosing self.
So instead of cracking a skull (Which I really wanted to do.) all I got to do was talk this guy down, calm him, and explain the joys of life to him.
At some point in time a burly (read: useless) security guard shows up to watch me handle things.

Finally I gave Secure E. Guard the reins to the drunk and went back to my own little world.

It was only a 5.5/6 hour day, but for my first day back in 2 months, it was rather exciting.

After work, we (Bella and I) went to a friends house, came home, and went to sleep.

That's it.

Don't let 'em getcha.
V.V.

As Dumb as a Brick Stick or As Queer as a Football Bat

I was dreaming a little dream last night.

For some reason my mind has accepted things that don't make sense and just when I'm dreaming something great, my mind says, "This is too good to be true." and I wake up.

This was not the case last night.

I don't know what I dreamt this.

Turning of the season maybe.

Or maybe it was watching Little Shop of Horrors (1986 remake) last night.

Though I don't know what that would have to do with it.

Anyway I dreamt about football.

And football fanatics.

What woke me up from this travesty of a dream, was NOT the thought, "This is too good to be true."

Instead it was the thought of these idiot fanatics that talk about their "ball club" like there's a suit and tie dress code at some club house where they can go and sip caviar and eat martinis with their testicles hanging out for comparison.

"I belong to the local ball club."

What really gets me though is the way these people talk about it with each other, and have done so to the point that the local kids pick up on it and do radio interviews talking about their testicle taverns.

"We got a pretty good ball club. I think we could go all the way. Couple guys with real good hands and I really like the towel boy."

At dirty as this statement seems, it's all been said at some point or another.

What really gets to me though, is that fact that kids can't tie their own shoes yet and they're talking about how they've got a good ball club but just couldn't bring home the win tonight.

Texas is real bad for that.

Watch Varsity Blues, which is fiction, but also Friday Night Lights which is based on true events.

Both reputed to be in the top football movies of all time.

Both are high school level.

Both set in Texas.

Calm down Texas.

It's only a game.

How many kids have you brain washed into thinking football = life, then sent on to be plumbers or butt wipers, or some other non football related horse shit.

"Play football all your childhood, but you'll never be good enough to play professionally, then go clean up puke for a living the rest of your life."

I'm not concerned with the guys that play for fun.

Play just to play.

But these fanatics that only live to play a game that 9 times out of 10 won't get them anywhere.

Calm down.

That's why it's called a football GAME.

Yes, it's something to get excited about.

Yes, it's something to keep kids off drugs. (sometimes)

Yes, it's the only thing to do in a small town on Friday night.

But it's only a game.

Watch, I'll get hate mail for this too.

Jackass.

Don't let 'em getcha.

V.V.