Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Time Travelers

It's a fact of life that people will come and go from each of our lives. Many of these people arrive, stay a little, and leave without making too big of an impression on our lives. The harsh truth is that this is most of the people you will meet. People like Alex Harsh. I had to think for a while before I could remember his first name. The only reason he came up at all was because I wrote the word harsh and thought, "I knew someone with that last name. What was his name? He was a Boy Scout. Alex!" And with a quick search in Facebook, there he is! He looks the same, two kids, facial hair, AND five mutual friends! This is proof that he exists still or yet.

There are other people who have come and gone from my life and changed me in a way that I can see with little to no reflection. Take Ryan Esser for instance. At the age of 13, Ryan taught me to look past a person's appearance and give them a second shot. I was trying to be a jocky prep kid in seventh grade and wouldn't let a skater punk talk to me without calling him a loser. This was exactly Ryan's first impression of me. He walked up to me in the hall of Waseca Middle School and said, "Hey aren't you Damien and Dustin's brother?" or something like that. To which I responded like an asshole and said, "der der der der der, loser." We were very good friends a few months later. Thinking back on that, I'm so insanely embarrassed. Ryan died a few years back just a few days before his 28th birthday. It was one of the hardest times of my life.

There are other people who come into your life make and impression and then completely disappear. I call these people Time Travelers; mostly because I assume that they are actually time travelers. These people are much rarer than all other types of people. It is especially hard to disappear in these days with the internet and such, so the only possible explanations are Aliens or Time Travel. Saying that Aliens is the reason for these people is preposterous and so the only rational theory we are left with is Time Travel.

Let me tell you a story about Max Trotter. I first met Max in 8th grade. He was unpredictable to say the least. At a school dance he may or may not have lit a fire in one of the bathrooms. I heard he did, but also I never saw any evidence that he did. There were a lot of stories about his past. He showed up suddenly and so there were bound to be. I heard once or twice that he was from Chicago and got in with a gang and moved to small town Minnesota to hide out because probably he killed a guy. I was usually a pretty good kid and his reckless demeanor always made me a little uneasy. Throughout my early teen years Max would disappear and then randomly show up somewhere around town or in my class halfway through a trimester. (We had a trimester system in my school as opposed to quarters or semesters. So it was cut into three terms. I digress.)

The last time I ever saw Max Trotter was the perfect way to sum up everything I'm telling you about this guy probably from the future. Ryan Esser and I were cruising the mean streets of Waseca, MN when we saw a familiar face walking on the side of one of the main roads. You guessed it, Max Trotter. Naturally, we pulled over and he got in the back seat and sat right in the middle next to the boom box that was the car's stereo. He told us he needed to go to Vista Villa (The trailer park in Waseca). We started driving and Ryan asked Max where he had been. Max mostly shrugged off the question and reiterated that he needed to go to Vista Villa. A minute later Ryan had a knife to his neck and Max was saying just take me to Vista Villa. Where the hell does it look like we're going, was our general response. Somehow we got Max to calm down and put the knife away and we dropped him off at the trailer (Time Machine?) that he directed us to. We drove away and I never saw or heard from Max Trotter again.

A simple search on Facebook give little more than his signature on a cliff metaphorically speaking.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Home Sick (What I Learned watching Yo Gabba Gabba)

I stayed home from work today so I could rest and eat all the Chicken Noodle Soup. I've never called in sick before, so any time I've taken time off, there has been a reason so I didn't know what to expect. I had a Netflix movie to send back, so I did that. and walked in the road all the way to the mailbox and back so as to not get my shoes dirty.
"Gotcha!" -Matt Lauer
 I was also rude to Bob Costas because of his pink eye. Mostly because they just keep talking about it and no one will come out and say that he has pink eye. It's just an eye infection. We all know that Matt Lauer bare ass farted on his pillow. HA! Hilarious! Seriously, that's CLASSIC Matt Lauer.

I did find out some things, one of which I kind of knew already, I just didn't know the extent of the severity of this issue. There is completely figuratively nothing on TV during the day! You know how Saturday TV is mostly golf and collage sports. Day time TV is a lot the same only it's The View, soap operas, and game shows. Regular people don't want anything to do with these things.

I also learned that I don't know how to be at my house when my wife isn't. She's at work, like regular people and she's always home when I get home. so it's really rare that I have to deal with the house by myself. I don't know what I'm doing! I'm not very big so I can't make a shower take all that long. Then I put clothes on. Now what? I played a video game, that was boring.

I next went to channels that I didn't know were there. Yo Gabba Gabba was on and I learned a few lessons that were really timely. They first taught me that the road is dangerous. It turns out that there are cars and trucks and that cars and trucks are dangerous. I had no idea! For now on I'll use the sidewalk for my walking and play.

They also had a segment with a playground where all the kids took turns except for a gorilla who was really mean to everyone. Then one kid said that if the gorilla wants to be friends then he should be nice and take turns.

Bob Costas, if you're reading this, I'm sorry that Matt Lauer doesn't know how to be nice and gave you Russian Pink Eye, which seems to be worse than regular America Pink Eye.

Moral of the story, Don't play in the road and Matt Lauer is pretty not cool to his friends!

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Battling Technology

My mind has brought  it to my attention that I have written nothing worth putting on a blog for sometime. When I say that there was nothing worth writing on a blog I also mean to say that I haven't written anything worth putting anywhere. Whether it's just that I'm bored, busy or dare I say suffering from a Writer's Disorder, I can't exactly tell, but I will say that it needs to end.

About two weeks ago I noticed something that may hold the answer to my lack of creativity and thought. I had thirty seconds to myself in an elevator in the building I work in, and instead of allowing myself that thirty seconds alone with my mind, I turned on my iPad to play a game or look at something. It was suddenly clear to me why I hadn't written anything.

There is little room for creative thinking when every second of your life is filled with something. I once used a lot of down time for reflection and thinking. It was in those times that I was able to find the inspiration I needed to story tell or share the inner workings of my mind. With that time being eaten by frivolous games and surfing the internet for anything that will entertain, there was no reflection and often there were no thoughts of any kind.

I don't think that it's necessarily bad to have this technology and the world in your pocket, but I do know that it's harmful to our brains to no longer need to retain any knowledge, memory, or creative thought. We seem to be afraid to spend any time alone with our own thoughts and this actually worries me about the future of story telling.

With the advent of this technology, we are already seeing the affects in the entertainment industry. Instead of new stories being told in the medium of motion picture, we are being given sequel after sequel, more and more books are being turned into movies, and movies from the past are being rehashed. Less and less books are being read, "reality" television is taking up more of the day with each season and the scripted shows are seemingly going the way of the movies.

I've spent the last two weeks trying to remember to give myself some quiet time. Hopefully, I'll be writing often again very soon.

Stay tuned.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Now That I'm Pretty Grown Up

I'm here today to make a proclamation. Are you ready for this? If not, you better damn get ready!

I'm a grown ass man! I can grow a crazy beard.

Exhibit A
Growing a beard doesn't make you a grown man though. I have two friends who had fuller beards than mine when they were in 8th grade. True Story.

I also have a grown up career style job with benefits and opportunity for advancement. I've published multiple books. I have a auto loan and subsequent payment. I recently became a married man, I have a wife who enjoys my company, which according to Alec Baldwin in The Departed means that people will like me more and know that I'm at the very least not gay. I grill food for my little family on a charcoal grill.

The point is, now that I'm a real life card (credebit?) carrying adult, I get the feeling that I have to change my habits to fit my new adult lifestyle.

This is what I started doing this week to act more grown up:

It came to my attention that I never know what's going on in the world, I assume do to the total lack of news I watch. It did make life interesting, never knowing what the weather would be like from day to day. All my coworkers were like meteorologists to me. They'd say something like, "Big storm tomorrow." And I'd be like, "Awww, Man!" NO LONGER!

I decided that instead of waking up at 7AM and hurrying to get ready and 15 miles to work by 8AM, I should wake up at 6:30AM and watch the news. I could have planned ahead a little better though. It turns out that early Sunday morning was start of daylight savings time. So it was kind of like waking up at 5:30 not 6:30. It was difficult to getting started.

But it's gotten a lot easier to wake up and it's really nice to be able to relax before I start my day and I at least know what the weather will be like that day.

Moral of the story... I wish I could be an irresponsible kid, but I can't so I might as well embrace it.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Kato Love Confessions

It's been a few years since I last had an address in Minnesota and it seems to me that nothing has changed in the city I once inhabited. I had become quite sure that there was no reason to look back besides seeing the weather on Facebook from Mark Tarello. Now I don't want anyone to think that I feel like I'm too cool for anything at all or that I don't care and often think about the family and friends I still have in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. The problem, if it is indeed a problem is that my life is just no longer there.

A few weeks ago I started seeing people talking about something called Kato Love Confessions. Needless to say, I was intrigued. I was interested based on the name only because I knew that what the name was telling me is that these are confessions of love from Mankato Minnesota's finest residents. When I was finally guided to KLC, I clicked "Like" on the Facebook page. Why? I don't know. It just made sense at the time.

Well, when I asked a dear friend named Whitney what KLC is, I was told that, "The greatest invention ever! Everyone is in love with Matt Buhlman!" This is probably why I "Liked" it. Matt Buhlman is real straight shooter. And I think everyone should love him.

I was quickly sad that I ever clicked that Like button. You see, when I said that it is Love Confessions from Mankato's finest residents, what I meant was Minnesota State University - Mankato's Finest.

This was at first terribly annoying, until I realized how amazing it really is. You see it is full of terribly creepy people with the worst grammar ever. It's hard for me to not correct them, but I have. I've done it a few times and I'm sure that they're going to kick me off soon. The point is, by Mankato's finest I mean...

Well I don't want to be mean.

Monday, January 28, 2013

One True Statement About Helicopters and A Bunch About Eating

Helicopters are wicked cool.

Eating is gross. I'm completely disgusted by seeing a person eat about once a day. I'm not sure exactly what needs to happen for me to be grossed out by eating; it certainly doesn't happen every time I witness the phenomenon. 

I've been grossed out by skinny people eating, average sized people eating, pleasantly plump people eating and huge greasy people eating. I've even been grossed out by myself eating. (Cottage Cheese is gross) So, it's not like the reason I'm grossed out really has anything to do with the person who's doing the a fore mentioned consumption of food.

One thing that does remain consistent every time I find my self so entirely disgusted with the unrelenting face stuffing of the people in this world is when the food you eat must be held. Pizza. I'm often grossed out by the consumption of pizza. Not because I think pizza is gross, I love pizza, but because of anything I can even name. Just sometimes seeing the act of pizza eating really makes me want to yak! Not every time, or exclusively pizza. I was grossed out today at Five Guys Burgers and Fries, when I saw a regular looking guy eating a burger. I ate a similar burger five minutes later, but something about that guy and that burger made me want to puke.

Like I said, this happens a lot and there's no real rhyme or reason to it. I'm not against food you hold, I'm not against holding food, but sometimes the planets go completely out of orbit and I want to puke at you eating. It's just the way it is.

Monday, January 21, 2013


I’m not a person who uses public transportation daily or even monthly. I’m the type that drives my car and burns gas and puts just a little bit of greenhouse gases in the air. The term “greenhouse gases” has always seemed like a weird way to put it to me. I understand the reason for it, trapping in heat, global warming, and another scientific term. The problem in my head with greenhouse gases is obviously the greenhouse part. 

When I think of greenhouses, I think roses and elementary school field trips. I think they should call them something that brings terrible things to mind. 9/11 gases! Or if that’s too soon, Pearl Harbor gases! Not the event, the movie.

Anyhow, I didn’t start writing about Pearl Harbor gases just to abolish the term “Greenhouse Gases”, in fact, I’m not exactly sure how I got on that subject in the first place. I’m writing about something much more important.

I’m currently riding Utah’s Frontrunner. It’s a commuter Train that runs north to south connecting the string of cities on either side of SLC. It’s not peak hours but there are still enough people to give a person plenty of chances to drop all the eaves possible. There’s also nearly every demographic of white people who would ever be on public transportation. Boy students, very Mormon girl students, an older guy who’s strangely balding and a punk looking at baby pictures of some girl, pictures of a guy named Tom, and like his favorite band, The Bouncing Souls.

This Punk guy is my kind of people. He has a black stocking cap with patches for Subhumans and the Distillers that used to be t-shirts sewed onto it with green thread. He’s pretty kick ass. He’s sharing music from his phone with his riding mate who I can’t see without being obvious. Okay, I was obvious. He’s a nerd punk for sure. I’m cool with that.

This is what I like about taking advantage of public transportation alone, the people watching. When you’re with a person and talking to them, you become part of the show and I feel like it’s a little obnoxious at times. I try to talk softly and it’s stupid.

There’s a guy who walks up and down the aisle to make sure we’re all safe. The thing is, he doesn’t look like he could save anyone. I want Patrick Swayze on Roadhouse. Oh no crazy guy with a gun and a knife. In comes Swayze to rip his throat out! With bare hands!