So, here we idiots in Airheadzona are. It’s the “Dog Days Of Summer” in Phoenix – 108 degrees as I type this. I’ve made plenty of bad decisions in my 54 years, but I just want to strangle myself for having made the BIGGEST mistake of my entire life: moving to Phoenix in May of 1995.
But then
I look back and realize that my Pa’s death in 1996 meant I would have been
moving from Los Angeles to Phoenix anyway, to help take care of my
Ma after Pa earned his freedom from “this world”.
So, in a
sense, I had no real choice in the matter; I was leaving L.A. for Phoenix sooner or later.
And my
awful job situation is a result of getting screwed over two years ago by an
Irish jackasshole.
And then,
of course, my living circumstances, or “family life”, was completely altered...
again due to no decision on my part.
And over
the last few years I’ve lost about $84,000 dollars... not due to any decision
on my part. All I had to do was just be here in order to lose that much money.
Think how much money I could have lost had I actually been doing something, simply making some decisions about my life!
The last
year could have been better, but I didn’t quit this job after Day 5 like my gut
instinct told me to. (I even took my company-issued work shirts with me on that
Friday, intending to turn them in again at the end of the day. But I made the
mistake of deciding to “stick this job out”. In hindsight, I realize I should
have told them to “take this job and stick it”.)
Had I
quit after Day 5, on Day 6, I would have accepted the job offer that was
suddenly and unexpectedly offered me by “Mister B”. It was a much better job
and I would have been able to save up the money to make, today, my nearly
lifelong desired move to Reno, Nevada.
But no,
but no, but no! I did the “honorable” thing and stuck with this job, and now
here I am after one full year of my life – an UTTERLY WASTED year, in which I
am poorer for working a full-time job - trying again to get hired by “Mister
B”, who offered me a pretty good job on “Day 6” a year ago.
Well,
“Mister B” says he’s going to hire me in mid or late September if I can stick with this
current job for another month. It would be a fairly good job (by Phoenix standards, anyway), despite the
graveyard shifts.
But
driving home from work last Friday, nearly drowning in my own sweat because I
have no air-conditioning in my truck (you didn’t need that shit in
Californ-i-a!), all I could think about was getting back to the house and to that cold gun can of ‘Big Flats 1901’ beer that was waiting
for me in the fridge. (It costs about $3.50 per six-pack at Walgreen’s
Pharmacy, and it was all I could afford last week.)
.
.
And then,
on my drive home, I was suddenly overcome by this deep foreboding feeling that “...Well, here we go again”. I’m going to get screwed over
again. “Mister B” isn’t going to come through on his job offer, for one reason
or another. Or else... “Mister B” will hire me, and it will unexpectedly turn
out to be a carppy job after all. ...Or, “Mister B” will hire me and I’ll get laid-off
three months later. One way or another, this will turn out to be another bad
situation/decision for me. I have lost my faith.
I don’t
mean that I have lost my faith in God. God IS, and God is GOOD!
I’m too smart to think otherwise. But I have lost my faith in my ability to
make a good decision and/or lost my faith in the idea that my life in “this
world” is ever going to improve. I’m tired. And the thing I’m most tired of is
the unceasing disappointments in my life. I look back at the 54 years and all I
see is 42 years of disappointments.
This
weekend, I played the song ‘Long Year’ by Todd Snider about 665
times. It’s become my new personal theme song. (On a positive note, at one
point while I was paying bills and balancing my checkbook on Saturday, the
ending of this song actually made me laugh quite healingly.)
.
I came in off a dead end street
Walked in slow and took a back row seat
I knew I had nothing new to say
So many people looking so burned out
I couldn't help feeling bad about just having to be there anyway
A friend of a friend from work came in
I never have known what to make of him
He'd always seemed to be so insincere to me
You know I've always been afraid of a 12-Step crowd
They laugh too much and talk too loud
Like they all know where everyone should be
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
They were talking in a circle, I was by myself
Everyone was telling everyone how they felt
It felt like so long since I've been young
As the circle kept moving its way to the back
I was wondering what I was gonna say, in fact
I still didn't know as it rolled off my tongue
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
I didn't say a word all the way to my car
But a little later on that night at the bar
I was telling everybody how strange my day had been
They said, “Brother, all you need is another shot”.
So I threw one down and said, “Thanks a lot”.
As I thought to myself: Well, here we go again.
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
“Something” tells me that one year from today, I will be looking back at August 18th, 2013, and realizing that I have wasted yet another year of my life. I sense that one year from today, I will be thinking: “I should have just sold some of my collectibles and made that move to Reno in 2013.”
Walked in slow and took a back row seat
I knew I had nothing new to say
So many people looking so burned out
I couldn't help feeling bad about just having to be there anyway
A friend of a friend from work came in
I never have known what to make of him
He'd always seemed to be so insincere to me
You know I've always been afraid of a 12-Step crowd
They laugh too much and talk too loud
Like they all know where everyone should be
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
They were talking in a circle, I was by myself
Everyone was telling everyone how they felt
It felt like so long since I've been young
As the circle kept moving its way to the back
I was wondering what I was gonna say, in fact
I still didn't know as it rolled off my tongue
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
I didn't say a word all the way to my car
But a little later on that night at the bar
I was telling everybody how strange my day had been
They said, “Brother, all you need is another shot”.
So I threw one down and said, “Thanks a lot”.
As I thought to myself: Well, here we go again.
It's been a long, a long, long year
It's been a long, a long, long year
How did I get here?
“Something” tells me that one year from today, I will be looking back at August 18th, 2013, and realizing that I have wasted yet another year of my life. I sense that one year from today, I will be thinking: “I should have just sold some of my collectibles and made that move to Reno in 2013.”
Faith...
it’s a terrible thing to lose.
Incidentally,
Barack Obama is a genuine Marxist. (I figured I ought to say something
political to justify this blog bit’s presence on my Political/Product Review
blog.)
I’m not
looking for sympathy nor comments (please "hold them"). I just needed to get this off my chest in
public, and this blog bit was a long, a long, draggy-assed way of saying that I’m just “Happy To Be Here”.
“How did I get here?”
~ Stephen T. McCarthy
YE OLDE
COMMENT POLICY: All comments, pro and con, are welcome. However, ad hominem
attacks and disrespectful epithets will not be tolerated (read:
"posted"). After all, this isn’t Amazon.com,
so I don’t have to put up with that kind of bovine excrement.
.
I sometimes look back and wonder how'd I end up in L.A., but I guess it was just meant to be. When I get tempted to think about how bad my state of affairs is then I just accept that I could have been a whole lot worse and I guess I have things pretty good. "Better" is a dream to put in my pipe and smoke. I'm hoping for better and trying to avoid worse.
ReplyDeleteHope things get better for you, but mostly that they don't get worse. Attitude, my boy, attitude. Think positive like Barack and his followers and everything will just be rosy as can be.
Lee
Tossing It Out
>>... Think positive like Barack and his followers and everything will just be rosy as can be.
DeleteAhh, yes, as in ...RED?
Better dead than Red.
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
This is not a sympathy comment...it's a Todd Snider comment...there are some other lyrics from Todd Snider you need to remember...
ReplyDeleteB double E double R UN.....beer run
LC
Best thing Todd ever wrote!
DeleteI'm off on a 'Big Flats 1901' run.
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
You don't know me...and I don't know you. I know you said NO COMMENTS, but...
ReplyDeleteStep off that ledge, take that leap. You only live once, you only die once. What is the worst that could happen. You are already licking old wounds, you might as well make new ones that are way more worth tending to.
Waiting for life to happen, it will never happen.
Good luck...do shoot the messanger!
LUMA13 ~
Delete>>... You only live once, you only die once.
Actually... I believe in reincarnation.
But thanks for the encouraging words.
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
HEY, ALL...
ReplyDeleteI just needed to shout at the world. I'm feeling much better, thank you very much.
I remember before Al Gore invented the Internet, one would have to go out on their front porch and shout, and that only carried a few houses up the street. Now one can shout on a Web page and the whole world is capable of hearing it. Thank you, Al!
To quote Dylan (Bob, that is)...
"It's life, and life only".
We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
I'm glad you're feeling better.
ReplyDeleteIf someone sent me a case of Jim Beam it would make me feel even better than "better". (Hint-Hint.)
Delete~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
You know, when I was a little kid I always loved asking my parents for help with my decisions. They always had all the right answers. Now that 30 is rapidly approaching, and I'm about to turn the same age my parents were when they had me, I'm realizing something. My parents didn't really have the answers. They were just pulling it out of their asses. Granted, it's much easier to dictate what a 5 year old should do than what a 30 year old should do, but I probably should have picked up on this little secret when my parents told me, at 16, that I should stop being a writer and become a Catholic priest (no joke). Imagine what a terrible priest I would have made, and what a terrible decision that would have been.
ReplyDeleteI'm now as old as they were when they first had me, and frankly, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I actually brought this up to my parents, and they laughed and said they didn't really know either. That they're still figuring things out at 60 years old.
So my fellow beer brother, whether you're 5 years old and asking why the sky is blue, or you're 29 years old and asking why did you give up a high paying IT job to be a starving artist of a writer, or you're 54 years old and asking how did I get stuck in Phoenix with the wrong job, we all have one thing in common. We don't know what the hell we're doing. And that's okay. In a way, there's a certain beauty about that. It keeps us humble.
Anyways, I know you said no comments but I suck at following rules. That, and I'm about to start brewing some beer and I'm stumped on what to make. I'm thinking maybe a nice red ale or a pale ale. Medium hops. A touch fruity, maybe a dash of citrus, but nothing in the realm of Blue Moon. Just to add a little flavor. What kind of notes do you like in a good brew (other than hops of course)? Help inspire me to finally dig out Brown Grandma's wooden beer barrel and put it to proper use.
4-B ~
DeleteYou're right as pain, Brother. No one knows what they're doing and "the world's a mess, it's in my kiss". (Nothing personal meant in that remark, intended "in a John Wayne way"! I just happen to think it's one of the all-time greatest song titles... even though the song itself doesn't please my ears.)
>>... I should stop being a writer and become a Catholic priest (no joke). Imagine what a terrible priest I would have made, and what a terrible decision that would have been.
I hate to disagree with you, and I'd hate to see you stop writing but... That was not as crazy an idea as you seem to think it was. Of course, you have a very creative mind and a beautiful wife, so... let's not change courses in mid-stream but... Being a priest is "a calling" from God and it has to come from Him or it's a mistake. But I believe, had you received that calling, you could have been an exceptional priest. With your clever way of looking at things, and your passion... you could have inspired a lot of young people in a Godly way.
I'm glad you're a writer, but you have certain qualities that could have made you a very unique and inspiring priest as well. It wasn't the crazy idea it might seem at first glance and when considered for only a superficial moment.
I view all of life in "this world" as a big school with different grades, and we're all mingling on the playground and tutoring each other in the various classrooms. "Learning to Love" (as God, or "Love", defines Himself) is what we're all here for. That's the true "meaning of life". The Holy Bible is the universal Textbook and Yeshua is the Master Teacher.
So, even when I get bummed out about the road I'm on, there's a part of my mind that's saying, "Look for the lesson and learn it, Retard!" After a few days of crying in my beer (even if it's only 'BIg Flats 1901'), I begin looking for the lesson again so I can "get it" and hopefully graduate to the next grade at the end of the school year.
As for the beer recipe... I'm a big fan of water, hops, malts and LOTS OF THEM!
Did you notice the slogan at the bottom of that 'Big Flats' can? It says: "It's the water that makes it."
I think that's funny because... well, DUH! There's nothing inside the can except water and one quarter of an ounce of urine for coloring, and you're sure as hell not going to advertise the urine!
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
I hear you. I probably would have made a good enough priest. But I mean it would have been a terrible decision because it just wasn't my calling. Writing has most always definitely been my calling, and I say that not just because I really like doing it. It's something I've always known. And as for priesthood (or anything else, even IT work once upon a time ago) I can't do anything more than half-assed if my heart just isn't in it 100%.
DeleteAs for the beer, I'm in search of some good malts, but I've mostly gotten my recipe down. Absolutely need that beer to be nice and malty. And yes, water definitely does make it. In fact, for this particular recipe I need to make like Coors and use some of that "Fresh Rocky Mountain Water(TM)." So maybe I'll just brew it with Coors as a base. There's no cleaner water out there than a Coors! And with a simple sieve I can strain out that urine...
Also, I just realized something, after all this time of you calling me 4B. I've always called my beer Quadruple B, which stands for "Beermaster Bryan's Badass Brew." Maybe my next generation of beer needs to just be shortened down to 4B.
Yes, to be sure, a priest or minister needs to be specially called by God. But had you received that calling, I think you have the other qualities that would have made for a great priest. You'd have been like the "Sister Bertrille" of priests - only, you know, much more masculine and without the flying (non-beer flying, anyway).
DeleteFunny about the Quadruple B. Maybe you can someday brew up some Old Ale, or Bourbon Barrel Ale, age it, and call it "Old Soul".
Last Sunday, my Sister accompanied Nappy and me to The Main Ingredient where, naturally, we yakked about beer, and she happened to mention something her ex-husband made a few times that she and I both really liked. I know you're thinking in terms of Summer Ales right now, and I don't have my former Brother-In-Law's recipe anyway but...
Maybe in the Fall you might want to experiment trying to brew a Coconut Porter. The former B-I-L made a really good one that even I liked. In fact, along with Stone's 'Smoked Porter', his Coconut Porter was the only example of that beer type I've ever enjoyed.
Did you like any of those brews you bought and photographed for me? How about 'Canoe Paddler' and 'SN Summerfest'? Have you tried either of those yet?
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Underground'
>I’m not looking for sympathy nor comments (please "hold them").
ReplyDeleteI know but...Big Flats. Can't type and laugh and chew gum at the same time...and I don't stay up past midnight for just anyone.
If I had to sit in 108 degrees I'd get the artichokes, dog tags and chocolate syrup and end it. If that's not an option...
Just Replace Denver with Phoenix
By the way, I don't really care who goes on my website since I quit the first time last year. Sometimes I just monitor the really strange hits (gov't, military, and Goldman Suks for instance. But got a hit from State of AZ today with search words (nymex crooks)which was directed to the "What Phil Said" blog bit. I think maybe someone got your e-mail.
Sig "BigFlats" Too
Sig "BigFlats" Too ~
DeleteYa know, even when I'm bummed I try to include a slice or two of levity. Such as tossing in some Big Flats, a random derogatory (although accurate) remark about Obama, and a new word like "jackasshole". I imagine some folks must have thought that up before me, but I've never encountered it before, so I'm claiming credit. And like "Goldman Suks" - I don't know if anyone else has ever used that, but you said it first as far as I know, so... credit: SigToo.
VERY INTERESTING about the State of AZ! Neither one of those two Airheadzona Senators (or their staff members) ever even acknowledged my Emails. But... Hmmm... Maybe they did get someone thinkin'. That's just a little too coincidental to be a coincidence, methinks.
And, ya know, Sig, you're like some kind of genius or something. The song you linked was on my mile-long list of future BOTB match-ups, but I wasn't planning on getting to that one any time soon.
BOTB #3 was going to be something quite "different", but you've given me a different idea and the timing is PERFECT! I am going to "get out of Phoenix" over the Labor Day Weekend. Because the Blogspot.dum system won't let me set a date and time for automatic posting, FAE and I decided this one time only we will post the next BOTB installments early - Friday, Aug. 30 instead of Sept. 1 (as I won't be here to post).
The genius of your timing with that linked song leads me to the conclusion that I should bump that particular match-up way up for this special "get out of Phoenix" getaway. Thanks for the "themed inspiration"! (Now don't go looking for other versions. I want it to be a surprise.)
~ D-FensDogg
'Loyal American Road Warrior'
I just noticed the preview lines of this post in my dash....
ReplyDelete"dog days of summer"
Why do they call it that? Do you think the dogs like the 110 degree heat?
I always thought that the Huskies out here were all pissed at their owners for moving them out here from Minnesota...
LC
>>... Do you think the dogs like the 110 degree heat?
DeleteSure, why wouldn't they?
In "dog degrees" that's only 770!
Of course, in "Booker T. degrees"...
that's still ..."VERY COOL".
~ Stephen T.