Pins and Needles

Posted under My Observations

Watching what’s happening in Washington in the past week has gotten me on pins and needles.  I’ve been watching the circus as intently as most Americans, probably a little more than others.

I work for a bank, a bank in California.  And yes, it’s not a pretty sight right now.  I keep looking around as other banks around us fail.

 

The bank I work for is on the FDIC’s list of troubled banks.  But then again, what bank isn’t lately.  I’ve watched reductions of staff (layoffs), hiring freezes, spending cuts and a general work slow downs. 

 

And as a Republican I’ve been torn.  On one hand I believe in the patriotic, free market democracy that this country was founded on.  On the other hand I’m wishing to see businesses (my bank) survive this latest “crisis.”  I know selfish.

 

The government should not be in the business of buying bad loans.  Supporting business directly as opposed to support through regulation is wrong.  This just smacks too closely to a socialist/Bolshevik answer.  When governments directly support businesses that’ve made bad decisions, we’ve begun to slide that slippery slope. 

 

My father taught me that when you dig yourself a hole, grab a shovel and start digging yourself out.  The same is true of institutions that have dug themselves deep in the hole. 

 

I’m not naïve to think that it’s just that simple.  I realize that we live in a global economy and that what happens here affects others around the world.  I also know that something will happen in Washington, soon or later to intervene.

 

After the House of Representatives shot down the “bipartisan” bill today, I continue to sit and wait…

 

on pins and needles.

 

Nuff Said…

Posted under My Observations

Best “Laid” Plans

Posted under Wife

The night was set for romance.  Our daughters all had other commitments, and we would not see hide nor hair of them until the next day.  The expectations were high. 

 

Two weeks is long without alone time with “the wife.” 

 

Drinks at a bar, dinner at a romantic restaurant, conversation with an adult, these were the beginnings of a magical evening.  After dinner, a stroll around the island and a short nightcap before heading home for a much anticipated romantic rendezvous.

 

Sounds like a fabulous night, huh?  Would have been great if that had been how it worked out.  BUT Nooo…

 

Phone rings, “Honey, change of plans.”

 

In my head I’m thinking, “Great, what now?”

 

“Princess needs a ride to a friend’s house and by the way, it’s that time of the month.  When I get home lets just head to the mall; I need new bras and you need a new pair of jeans.”

 

Terrific.

 

So instead of that romantic drinks, dinner and stroll around the island, as well as the nightcap and…

 

We ended up with roast beef sandwiches, sodas and a small bag of Sees candies for dessert.  That and along with a cast of hundreds shopping for bargains, our night was definitely not as planned. 

 

So much for the fantasy.

Frozen Peas

Posted under My Observations

 

You’re laying there in the doctor’s exam office on the examination table.  Your crotch is exposed and the doctor examining your testicles.  He digs out a syringe and tells you that this is to numb the area.  Your thinking what’s going to numb that needle? 

 

The doctor after numbing the area with that “frickin needle” proceeds to use his scalpel and start digging for what eventually ends up looking like a piece of wet spaghetti.  He’ll cut about a two inch section out and show it to you.  I don’t want to see stuff that’s supposed to be inside of me, outside of me.

 

He then cauterizes the two ends.  The smell of burning flesh and some smoke is not what you associate at the doctor’s office.  A horror movie, not a doctor’s office.  He sews you up and tells you to stay away from sex for a couple of days (like I’m going near my wife ever again) hands you the plastic cup and sends you on your way with an ice pack.

 

I was checking out my friends last night and stumbled on Russ and his post concerning his intimate relationship with a plastic cup.  He recently had himself “snipped” and the cup was for a sample to bring back to the doctor.  You got to know if the swimmers are still lurking about or if they’ve been completely “ejected”. 

 

After our second child was born and my wife the ex neglected to tell them to tie her tubes, I was volunteered as the new birth control recipient guinea pig.  For those not keeping up, that meant V-A-S-E-C-T-O-M-Y for yours truly.  Now this was about, let’s see my youngest is 16, so about 15 and a half years ago yours truly got “snipped”. 

 

I showed up at the doctor’s office in the baggiest pants I had.  They were multi-colored parachute pants.  It was the early 90’s you can’t blame me for bad fashion. 

 

After the procedure we slowly walked over to our favorite Mexican restaurant for margaritas to celebrate life without condoms and pills.  I spent the next two days swallowing pain killers and shoving bags of frozen peas into my pants to relieve the swelling.

 

And that plastic cup?  Never did get around to using it. 

 

Do you think I should tell my wife?  Nah…

 

Mr. Toads Wild Ride

Posted under Daughters

“Stay closer to the center yellow line.”

“Signal before you change lanes.”

“Did you look over your shoulder at your blind spot?”

“You need to start breaking a little sooner.”

 

I’ve done this twice before; you’d think I’d be used to it by now. 

 

 

I got her two older sisters through this; I can get my youngest teenager to master this.  I have a reputation of patience under fire.  I mean, I live in house with all women who for some reason PMS at different times of the month.

 

It’s not pretty.

 

Those six months between getting your drivers permit and taking the driver’s test can be a time of challenges.  Both for the teenager and the parent.  It’s a time when my budget for aspirin goes higher and my alcohol intake after the lessons goes up. 

 

I understand the anxious nerves of a beginner when their behind the wheel.  There are way too many things to think about and to watch for.  And as a parent your mind reels with:

 

     Did you look both ways after stopping? 

     Are you really going that fast? 

     How well does the handbrake work? 

     At what speed could I bail out if needed? 

 

We’re into our first month and there haven’t been any casualties yet.  We’ve just missed the parked cars while checking ourselves in the mirror.  That bicyclist was sure surprised when we almost clipped his rear wheel.  And I really didn’t know that you could get a car on two wheels while making a left turn.

 

Eventually she’ll get all of it down.  Driving will be like second nature for her.  And like every teenager, she’ll have the stereo blaring, checking her makeup in the mirror and drinking a latte, all the while dodging traffic.

 

You’ve been warned.

 

 

Jean

Posted under Ex's, Family

 

The call came when I was out with friends playing our regular Monday night soccer game.  An excuse for a bunch of old guys to try and recapture our youth.  As I walked through the front door my wife said my youngest called.  She said she sounded upset.  My mind thought, here we go again with the teenage drama of school and friends.

 

Still sweating from the game I picked up the phone and called her.  My ex answered and immediately handed the phone to my youngest.  “Granny Jean died today” were her first words to me.  I sat down and absorbed the news.  It wasn’t unexpected, but just the same I was taken aback.  She was a day shy of her ninety fifth birthday.

 

Jean was my ex wife’s grandmother.  I first met her when my ex and I started dating back in 1979.  I had been this boy of nineteen who had just started college, had met a girl and had fallen hard for her.  Since her parents lived in Europe, her closest relatives were her grandparents living in Newport Beach. 

 

I came from a modest blue collar family.  My mom and dad both worked.  I was the first in my family to go to college.  She wanted to introduce me to her grandparents.    They lived in Newport.  They lived in a neighborhood of movie stars and pro football players.  I was intimidated.  A fish out of water. 

 

Jean and Popeye (Bob) were gracious and kind.  They invited me into their home.  It became a home that my ex and I after we were married spent many Sunday evening family dinners at.  Big, loud, family dinners with conversations ranging from politics, religion, family, history, travel, every evening became an education.  This boy from blue collar beginnings began his schooling on things that college would never teach him.

 

Jean and Popeye were young sweethearts who fell for each other.  They raised a son and a daughter who were devoted to their parents.  They both worked hard, he as a Port Pilot for the Port of Los Angeles and she as a homemaker and mother.  Jean was unselfish in volunteering for causes to help those who were less fortunate.  She was a major organizer with The Assistance League of Newport Beach. 

 

My ex got on the phone after my youngest gave me the news.  I gave her my condolences.  We talked about Jean and the life she lead.  We talked about how she was so much in love with her husband, loved her children and grandchildren.  When my ex and I became parents to our daughters, Jean was the adoring Great Grandmother who spoiled them constantly.  She truly loved her family and took great pride in making sure that family came first. 

 

She had lived a long and very full life.  Jean and I didn’t always see eye to eye on many things.  But she taught me the lessons of grace, love and unselfishness.

 

She will be missed, but not forgotten.  Goodbye Jean.    

 

She’s Not Going to Like This Post

Posted under Daughters, Family, Wife

  I was the lone soldier on the battlefield.  Bombs were incoming from all directions.  I searched high and low for a foxhole, a ditch, any place that would have given me some form of protection.  It was no use; I would have to surrender to the battle.

 

No, this didn’t happen overseas, or in a foreign land, I’m not lucky enough.  This happened here in my own home, my castle, my place where I reflect in the peace and calm. 

 

Yeah right!

 

I arrived home recently to what I had hoped would be a calm and relaxing evening.  My anticipation was to have a quiet evening spent with my wife and daughters.  Something that doesn’t always come to fruitarian but I am always hopeful.

 

For you see, I am still the only man within the confines of a home dominated by women.  This is where my testosterone provides me with no protection from the elements within my residence. 

 

First I was ambushed by my youngest daughter.  Out of nowhere, I was blind sided.  Wham, I was confronted by smudged mascara; red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.   It was the teenage drama of school, friends, and boyfriend problems. 

 

I was a man walking a mine field without a map.  God help me.

 

After putting out that fire I turned to find that my oldest who had issues of her own.  Too little sleep from dog sitting my ex’s puppy and staying up until dawn.  She was ready to take someone’s head off.  It wasn’t going to be mine.  I calmed her down as only an “understanding father” can.

 

Just as I thought all was finally calm and I had weathered the storms, in came my wife.  “We need to talk”.  This was not going to be pretty.  I had obviously not spent enough time with her this evening.  She was feeling a bit neglected.  My fate was a long conversation discussing our “feelings” over this.

 

Is there a conspiracy towards men?  Was there something in the water?  Had I missed the memo?  

 

Women should come with instruction manuals.  Those of us who can grow facial hair should be given lessons in living with the fairer sex. 

 

Or start equipping us with better foxholes.