MY KINGDOM FOR A...

Is there anything in the world (besides medical news... cancer, pregnant, balding...) that generates more anxiety than car problems? You take a successful guy, put him in a BMW or something like it, and let that beautiful automobile develop a noise or hiccup, and his world comes crashing down. Right?? And we all go through it. We all flip out. Know why? I'll tell you.

It's not the money... though that never helps the situation.

It's not that we love the car/truck/SUV all THAT much. Let's face it, these are different times. People don't have the loyalty to the autos like they used to.

It's not the greasy, smirking mechanic that talks to you like a four year old.

It's none of that.

It IS the loss of control. I'm right, aren't I? hehehehehe...

Who doesn't feel like a loser when their friend/relative/whoever... has to pick them up from the auto shop? Who doesn't become a second class citizen when you have to "bum" a ride into work? Who has not paced the halls of their home at ten thirty in the evening because you can't jump into you baby and get a pint of ice cream when you need it most?

And that's when it hits you about how dependent you are on that wonderful little rolling box... that plays the music YOU like. That moves as fast as YOU want to go. That waits for you all day to come out of the office, and never complains when you leave it out in the rain while you enjoy a movie. Never shoots you a look for smoking a cigarette, or picking your nose, or singing to that Pink song you won't admit you like to anyone else.

MY little rolling box... my little secret keeper... my little... click click click....

START, YOU SON OF A .....

They shoot horses, don't they?

Condors taste like Garlic Fries

Local sports teams. From pee-wee leagues to high school teams, to the over priced, over hyped pros. Lordy, we love our sports.

Being a resident of Bakersfield for over 20 years now has sparked a sense of loyalty in me to follow and cheer for our local teams. We have our share of little league and AYSO and high school squads. When these teams make it into the regional or state finals I always check the paper or internet on their progress.

But when it comes to the college or the pro teams from our area, I start to get a tad more worked up. Maybe a tad more than a tad. Alright... I freakin' lose my mind! Happy??

Case in point... our local hockey team, the Bakersfield Condors.

Yes, Virginia, we have hockey in the middle of the California desert. It's VERY popular. I'm not kidding. Ask anybody on the streets of Bakersfield (thank you, Buck) what an icing call is, or what the purpose of the blue lines are, or why hockey has a point system rather than a win/loss system and you will get a blank stare... for the most part. But if you ask them about their Condors, they'll tell you who's the hot shooter, where the new goalie is from, and how the team ranks in the ECHL standings. I'm at a loss to explain it... I don't even try anymore. All I know is...local hockey has one hell of a following in Bakersfield, CA. I'm one of the fanatics as well.

Which, friends, is why I'm putting digits-to-keyboard tonight.

I'm not here to berate the team, it's players or coaches, ownership, fans or anyone else. I'm just a fan of a hockey team who fell behind in the playoffs tonight and look as though they will not see the next round of said playoffs. I'm pissed off, is what I am.

About a hockey team... from Bakersfield, CA... a town I'm not even from. AND... I'm burping up garlic fries. They serve THE BEST garlic fries at the games.

Where am I going with all this? Nowhere, I guess. I actually had a great time tonight, hanging with friends, eating food that's not all that good for us, and cheering for the Bakersfield Condors.

Oh, yeah.... I remember now. I love my local teams. Where ever they my turn up in my life.

It's still here and so am I

It's been almost two years since I wrote anything on this blog. Right at this moment I'm realizing that I missed it. Glad it's still here.

Still sober. That's the #1 thing at this point. The lessons I learn in my recovery program carry me through everyday life. And that's not to say that my life is a heavy burden. Quite the opposite. Things are pretty goddamn good. But I'm still RECOVERING. That's the thing. I'll never get a diploma or a certificate saying "You are done, sir! Congrats!". I spent over thirty years of my life boozing and drugging which means that I truly didn't live life at all. Hell of a thing playing catch up at this point. 43 1/2 months vs. 30+ years... Putting it like that, I need a beer.

Kidding.

But as I sit here tonight thinking about how far I've come and what might lay before me, I'm struck with a sense of wonder and gratitude for every moment, good and bad. Thank you, God. You're an ok cat, you know that?

BTW... it still doesn't get much better than SOUTH PARK. Last weeks show about legalizing pot, and this weeks take on Facebook... brilliant. Wish I could be half that funny.

OH....shit.... I gotta say. Sometime back I wrote a blog about a DJ I work with and what a dick he is/was. Well, I just did a comedy bit with said DJ on his morning show today. He came to me after and told me how funny I am. I had know idea that dick DJ was so insightful.

I really missed writing this blog. Hope I'm back. Hope the cats I used to read about on here are still around.

Nearing bedtime. This was fun. Must do it again soon.

SWEET BLOOD, TEMPTATIONS, ESPN, NO WOMAN-NO CRY, AND SOUTH PARK

It's been over a month since I've posted. Lazy? I wish. Lot's going on.... let's see what I put down in the blog.....





First off, I was recently diagnosed as a diabetic. I stood there staring at the doctor in an awkward silence. "So, do we cut my legs off now, or what?" I asked. She laughed at me like the idiot I am and said no. I need a change in diet, some exercise, and lose some weight. Okay. I can do that.


The meeting with the doctor was because of the sty I could not get rid of. I posted about it last month. A big, ugly sty on my left eye. I finally broke down and went. The damn thing was killing me, not to mention that I looked like hell. I was given presciptions of antibiotics and.... vicodin. For the pain. Oh my....


I don't hide the fact that I'm a recovering alcoholic. One of my great joys back when I was drinking was to take drugs, like vicodin, and wash them down with beer and vodka.

I took my doctors note, gave it to the drug store, and in no time at all had the bottle in my hand.

I couldn't wait to get home. I had been given permission to get high. The anticipation was almost unbearable. I would stay home, unplug the phone..... oh my God....

There I was planning my buzz. Planning on locking myself away so I could get loaded. Planning on taking 3 or 4 pills when it said to only take 1. I began to shake.

My life now is far from perfect. I have problems like everyone else. But it's a hell of a lot better than it used to be. Was I entertaining the idea of going back to that life? Was the high going to be worth it? Would I really risk all I had built and all I had gone through?

Tears began to run down my face. I took the bottle, opened it, and dumped the pills out my car window. No. I will not go back to that life, but thanks for the invite. I have some Advil at home.



On a lighter note.....



It's official. The radio station where I work is going to become an ESPN affiliate. We will no longer be KGEO 1230AM..... we will be ESPN 1230! Fuckin' A! Good news, bad news, great news.

Good news: I'll be working for an ESPN affiliate.... with all the perks.

Bad news: I'm being phased out of my on air time during the radio auction show.... drag, 'cause I like being on the radio.

Great news: I will be named the producer of the sports talk show that will follow Mike&Mike In The Morning.... locally, of course. There It Is w/ Jake Stevens! We will be the lead in for the Jim Rome Show. AND I'll be doing the morning sports updates live, twice an hour on air. Sweet. In the real world, this is small potatoes.... but for me??? I'm jazzed! By the by.... thereitisjake.com is our web site. I'm going to try and figure out how to put a link up on the blog....



What else....



Still no real woman in my life. I hang out with a lot of women, but I want a GOOD woman. Is that asking too much? Is it too unrealistic to want to be a good man for a good woman? I'm beginning to think that there are no more out there. I guess I'll just keep taking applications....

This one is out of left field..... Christ, do I love me some South Park.
Last nights episode was nothing more than a tribute to the movie "Heavy Metal". Well fucking done Matt and Trey. I've been watching this show since day one and it has never gotten stale. It's too bad more people don't get the joke. It's my favorite show, hands down.

Well, for now, that's all. But that is just the tip of the iceberg. It's always helpful to get all this crap in my head written down. I get so worked up over such trivial stuff.... and when I go back later and reread it, it all seems so.... small. Amazing how self important we become.

Love and happiness to all.

A TRUE STORY? DEPENDS......

No reason to post today other than it's a slow day at work and I feel like writing.

I first started blogging when I opened a MYSPACE account a little over a year ago. I had read several blogs and wasn't sure what to write about when I started. But I did know one thing.... whatever I wrote about I was going to be honest. Completely honest. Even if it hurt. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake. Being honest about my life and lettting all my MYSPACE "friends" read and comment turned into a cluster-fuck. Which is a shame because I really liked some of the posts I had put up. But I deleted my account and came to Google. I'm much happier here. I dig the people that are reading and commenting and the blogs I'm reading here are a kick. Now.... back to the being honest part....

The story I'm about to relate is true. I was telling it to some friends over coffee a while back and they went wild. Eveyone laughed and laughed and had a million questions. When I was done telling it, a dozen similar stories came out from the crowd and coffee stretched until 3am.

So, it's a slow day at work, I feel like writing, and I will be completely honest. Let's see....

******************************

Many years ago I was dating a woman named Dee. That is not her real name, but because of the nature of the story and the fact that she is not around to put her spin on it, we'll go with Dee.
Dee was a pretty, young school teacher I had met at the wedding of a close friend of mine. We were both in the wedding party, so we spent a lot of time hanging out and then we were an item.
Things were going great and before I knew it, Dee had all but moved into the house I was renting. Not sure how that happened but it didn't really bother me. I liked her and she loved me. So it goes.
We would spend evenings preparing meals, but like a lot of couples we ate out a lot. There were a number of restaurants that we liked, and we would take turns picking where we wanted to eat. One of my favorite spots at the time was a buffet joint. I won't give out the name, but let's just say that you probably have one in your "hometown" and it is a "buffet". Dee wasn't crazy about the place but we went there because she knew I liked it.
So there we were eating. I like all you can eat places because I did just that.... have all I can eat. When we were through, I had several empty plates piled beside me. Dee had maybe two. It was time to go. We got in my car and started the 10 minute ride home. Not more than a minute into the drive I began to feel some discomfort.... cramps and such. A minute later it became apparent that I need to go to the bathroom. Badly. I said nothing and took the pain. We would be home soon. But I guess the sweating and moaning got Dees attention and she asked if I was okay. I told her what was happening.
"Let's stop at a gas station", she said
" No, I'll make it. I just have to get home."
Each moment brought new agony. The pressure building below was unbelievable. My knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. "I have to make it home! Please, God, don't let this happen in front of my girlfriend!" I thought.
I turned the car into my neighborhood, then onto my street, then I saw my house. "Made it!" I said. Dee could not take her eyes off me.
I pulled into the driveway, turned off the car, and opened the door. For a moment I was frozen. The pain was so intense I couldn't move. Then I stepped out of the car and stood up. And there, in my driveway, on a bright and sunny afternoon, in front of the entire neighborhood, in front of my girlfriend.... I shit my pants. Like a 2 year old.
Not a squirt. Not a slip. I unloaded like a firefighting helicopter over a blaze.
I looked to my right and Dee was gone. Then I saw her head pop up over the car and back down it went again. She was laughing so hard she was choking. I was about to call her a fucking bitch but then realized I was going to need help getting into the house. Walking with a load in your pants is.... awkward. Dee composed herself, sort of, and helped me to the front door. She then got me into the shower, had me strip, and the clean up began. It was not pretty.
After it was all done, we had a great laugh. That will never happen again, I thought.

Two weeks later.....

We are sitting in the same buffet. I just finished my third plate of bbq ribs and mashed potatoes. "Ready to go?" Dee said.
"I want some pie with ice cream first", said the stupid man.
"Aaww, honey. You've had enough. Come on. Let's go."
" We'll split it." The stupid man is very stupid.
Dee just sat there watching me eat the pie and ice cream. When I was finished, we walked out to her car.
"Are you okay?" she asked. Dee was concerned. We had come in her car this evening.
"I'm fine. I feel good."
We got in her car, me in the passenger seat, and started the trip home.

The cramps hit monments later.

There was no humor in Dees voice this time. She was pissed.
"You said you were okay! What the fuck! Are you going to make it this time?"
"I don't think so. Drive fast.... oh, God!"
" Michael, don't you dare! Hold it!"
"I can't....", I said between my gritted teeth.
I was wearing shorts. When it happened, it happened with suck force that it shot out of the bottom of my shorts.... all over her car seat and all over the floor.
Dee began to gag. She got the power windows down. I was gagging too, and laughing at the same time. That's how we drove the rest of the way home. Dee gagging and screaming at me, and me laughing and gagging.
After the clean up, after Dee spent more that an hour cleaning her car ( that's right ladies and germs.... SHE cleaned her car!), we did not speak much the rest of that night.

I never ate at that restaurant again. I don't really eat at buffets much anymore. And I have not had another "incident" since that time.

Dee and I are no longer together. Truth of the matter is less than a year after the events I have described here, I broke up with her. She's a good woman. She put up with a lot of my shit.

And this is a true story. Hell, why would anyone make up a story like that? And why would anyone post it on their blog? Maybe they were bored at work and decided to tell a tale.

I'm hungry......

CUT ME, MICK!

It's been an interesting week. Forgive me if I seek your pity.



To start of with, I've been sick. Really sick. Run down, coughing, sneezing, radioactive booger, please God let me die, kind of sick. Not tragic, but crappy all the same. There's a lot of it going around.
I've been working really long hours at work. I don't normally mind this, but coupled with being sick has taken its toll.
Speaking of work... I had one of my hosts from one of the shows I produce drop the "bullshit" bomb on air three times.... in one show.... in a 48 second span. If you don't keep up with current events then I should tell you.... this is bad. Corporate bosses calling my phones screaming at me "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON THERE?" kind of bad. There were meetings and more meetings. I still have my job. I still have the headache.
I cannot get a woman out of my head. I won't go into details, I've posted about it before. But it raised its head again recently. Don't you just love love?
Yesterday, Friday, I got rear ended while sitting at a stop light. My hat and glasses went flying. My bumper is kind of fucked, but other than that everything is fine.... my back sort of hurts though....
And then there is the normal day-to-day stuff which seems to grow fangs when everything else is frying your ass.

But the kicker..... the cherry on the cake..... the thing that TAKES the cake.... is my eye.

I have a sty. In my left eye.

I know that a sty is not the end of the world. It's fairly common. An eye duct or hair folicle that's blocked and your eye lid swells up. Nothing you can do. Hot compresses and at some point and time it unblocks and everything is back to normal. But sometimes it takes time and this current sty is now about four days old... and I look like.... well, let's hear what the peanut gallery has said....

" Hey, Rocky! Cut me, Mick! Cut me!"

" You gonna ring the bells in the tower, hunchback?"

" Oh my God! I mean, it doesn't look that bad."

" Forgot to turn your head when the guy came, huh?"

" Holy shit, man! You're deformed!"

I hate people. I really do.

I know I'm not a good looking guy. That's fine. I can play the hand that I was delt. I make up for it by being charming and funny. About the best compliment I can remember about my looks was: " Oh, you're cute. Like Shrek!"

I hate people. I really do.

And this is what's baking my nuts this week. On top of everything else, I'm Shrek.... with a deformed, Rocky, hunchback- like eye. That drains at night and crusts over.

So, if you're walking down the street and you see a guy that looks like Shrek with a swollen eye coming towards you, show him a little pity. And wait for him to pass till you go screaming into the night.

IS THAT ALL THERE IS?

I was recently rewatching parts of "From the Earth to the Moon". It's an HBO mini-series that came out several years ago about the U.S.A. Apollo space program. It's one of the finest mini-series I have ever seen. If you liked "The Right Stuff" and "Apollo 13", this is a fine companion piece to both these films.

One of the episodes is entitled "Is That All There Is". It's my favorite of the series. The episode centers on the Apollo 12 mission, the second moon landing. More specificly it is from the perspective of astronaut Alan Bean, the fourth man to set foot on the moon.

After spending two days on the moon with mission commander Pete Conrad, the astronauts had redocked with the Command Capsule and were preparing for the trip home. Bean was staring out the window at the lunar surface when Conrad asked him what was up.

" Is that all there is?", Bean said.

" Ya know, Al Bean.... I was just thinking the same thing", was Conrads reply.

Here were two men that had just taken the greatest journey in human history. They had spent two days walking on the moon, 280,000 miles from Earth. And what were they thinking?

Is that all there is?

I blogged about this very subject on MySpace almost a year ago. It keeps coming up in my head.
I mean, if you can go to the moon... do something only a handfull of people have ever done... then pose that question... what do I say about my life? I'll never do something that extrodinary, ever.
I look out the window all the time and think... is that all there is? Would I still think that way if I...

won the lottery?
found a cure for cancer?
had children?
became famous?

walked on the moon?

The evidence would seem to indicate that I might.
Are we really that hollow inside that the events in our lives, great and small, still leave us wanting more?

I wonder if there are any people that don't ask that question. They find what they are looking for in things like family, friends, faith, golf...... but maybe, in a quiet moment alone, they look out at the horizon and think.... is that all there is?

At the end of the episode, Alan Bean comes to the realization that the only things we really have are the moments we spend with the people we love. And really.... that's all there is. Is that just one, big rationalization? Could be. But it's one that I hang on to.

You see.... I don't play golf. I've never had children. I'm not sure if I believe in God or not. I will never cure cancer. And I will never walk on the moon.
But I will have a house full of friends this weekend. We'll shoot pool, eat chicken wings, watch football, and laugh and talk and laugh.

And that's really all there is.