Category Archives: Lucky Me

Tale of Two Blogs

I mentioned in some earlier posts about an e-book I got from the Simple Dude. There were all kinds of hints to building a bigger blog, but I thought that most of them seemed cheap and sell outish. I was later thinking that I should try them out, like the book says, to see if they even work, and voila! I now own another blog. It’s completely different than this blog, and I will never tell you the address, because if I did, it would tamper with my findings. I just want to see whether, if I change who I am, I can be a successful blogger. I realize that I should tone down my language, and twisted sense of humour, and I really have, even for this blog. There are some pretty foul thoughts that go through my brain, and it would take a pretty special person to understand that it’s just some of the things that I find funny, or weird.

This guy knows funny

That’s one thing I love about the Missus. She gets me, and she keeps me in check, but not by censoring me. I’ll run something by her, and she will tell me whether it’s funny, or not. If it’s funny, it’s funny. It doesn’t matter what language is in it, or how gross it is. It’s either funny, or it isn’t funny. Sometimes it’s downright hilarious, but because it is a little too raunchy, we don’t put it in the blog. Sometimes she suggests that I don’t put something in the blog, and I do anyhow, and then some people quit reading. Those usually are posts of murdering animals, and I have to agree with her, that they are quite graphic and sad, but I always feel that I have to be as honest as I can with you. That’s why I’m telling you about this new blog. It’s completely different than Change The Topic, because there is no swearing, no real humour (just that dumbed down shit), and no real names. It’s totally anonymous, and it is also a lot of fiction.

I already give you guys all of my real life, and I don’t have a lot of writing time right now, so I’m just putting a paragraph or two of filler in there. That will likely change when I get home, and have a bit of free time. I can tell you folks that read this blog, that I will keep you updated when I start actually following the steps in that other book, because I want you to know  how things go. Who knows, it just might work!!! I may become a financially successful blogger, and all I’d have to do is change a few things about how I write. Apparently if you follow this guys advice, the people that follow you will be telling all of their friends about your blog, and they try to promote each other as well, so if it works out like they say, I’ll be getting like 10000 hits a week within a year. I should also add that you have to have decent content as well. I can’t just copy shit from the internet, and expect people to give a damn about it. Who knows, maybe it’ll just be mediocre, and random, like this one, but I’m going to try to focus on the subject, and keep my eye on the prize.

And it's made in Canada

 

Yeah, I hustle pool. It pays the bills.

Maybe when I’m raking in the millions, and buying everyone subscribed to Change The Topic an electric car, I’ll feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. Another way that I can get that feeling, is to look into Mrs. Birdman’s eyes when she is adoring me in the cocoon, or look in my Mom’s face when I give her that hug she’s waiting for. Those are the things that matter, and as nice as it would be to not have to worry about money, it’s way better to not have to worry about whether anyone loves you. This may seem a little arrogant, but I feel like I am well loved by a lot of people, and in turn, I give that love back. There is a reason that I have so much love around me, and it’s because I surround myself with positive, free thinking, generous people, that aren’t afraid to give someone a compliment, an encouraging word or a big hug whenever they want to. They aren’t trying to “one up” each other, or push someone else down, just to make their life seem better. They want people to succeed at whatever they do, and are always there to help in any way they can. It’s pretty nice that we can actually say that we are proud to have the friends we do. We feel that we’ve accomplished something tremendous when we look around at their smiling faces, and realize that we have more true friends, than most people have acquaintances.

I really mean that. Mrs. Birdman has often remarked at how many friends we now have. I have always taken it for granted, because I seem to be attracted to genuine people, and usually become friends with them. I had always thought that everyone was like that. She assured me that it wasn’t so, and then I started thinking. I began looking at people that were close to me, and thinking about how many friends they have. Some of them had tons, but most had a few close friends, and then the rest were acquaintances. I began to wonder why that was? Maybe they have trust issues, were burned before, or just don’t like people very much. I would really love to know, because we are sort of the opposite, and I don’t understand why everyone doesn’t go out and get a shitload of friends, and have fun with them. I know that’s what I’m planning to do for the rest of my life. I’m going to enjoy the company of people that I admire, respect, and truly like being around. I really can’t think of anything else that I’d like better, because I’ve been a truck driver for the last thirteen years, and have spent most of it alone.

Now it’s my turn to shine, baby.

We sure had fun the last time that we were down there, and when we woke up you had that weird tattoo, and somebody had curled my hair,

Birdman

P.S. We received a somewhat delicate question for Therapy Thursday, and Mrs. Hankey, don’t worry, we will get to it, but it will take a while for me to be able to figure out how to answer that one. Thanks for sending it in.

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Filed under Birdman, Life, Lucky Me

I guess I should write something new

Don’t ask me why, but I just feel obligated. I guess it could be that I’ve taken on this commitment and enjoy it more than most things that I do. I don’t know why anyone would want to read about my life, but I’m more than happy to share it with you. So brace yourself for the story of the century, because Chin and I did it up right today.

It started at 5:15 am, when I awoke with a start. It seems that I had set my alarm wrong, so I was trying to pick up my phone and figure out how to shut that bitch down. I then realized that it was no mistake; I am working in some sort of hell, where it’s dark and hilly, and you don’t sleep very much. I packed my gear and met Chin at the car, where we danced like no one was watching. A few people actually were watching out of the window and laughing. I think they were laughing with us, because every time I’d smile and laugh while throwing my head back, they would let out a guffaw like you’ve never heard.

We then headed for Tim Horton’s to get Chin’s elixir of the fabled, while I had a green tea, and dreamed of days when I didn’t have to get up so God damned early. We went from there to the shop, to grab the steam truck from the wash bay, and we threw our stuff in it. It’s nice to get past the scales before they open, because neither of us have done up a log book in forever, and then we take that hilly jaunt down highway 29 towards Hudson’s Hope. We jump off at the Farrell Creek Rd. and trek the twenty six kilometres into camp, where we had a delicious breakfast, served by some attractive young ladies, and got some lovely wraps made up in a style that’s slightly reminiscent of Subway. When we were all grubbed up, we drove to the job site down the road and met up with Carl, who didn’t really want us there yet, so he sent us to see Kevin.

Unfortunately Kevin did want us. We are in high demand; the Chin and I, so we unleashed our spool of high pressure/high heat hose and started to furiously wash equipment and pickups. Aaron was there as well, and we ran into Kramer briefly, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him. Aaron kinda slipped into some old habits, so we weren’t able to talk to him much. It seems that it doesn’t matter how old you get; boys always love to play in the dirt. I was transported back in time when I saw him jump up into the hoe with a smile on his face. A time when my life was simpler, but not as full as it is now. When we just worked and played, and nothing seemed to matter much at all to us. I suppose I had a little grin as I watched him climb up there as well, because there are few things that makes me as happy as seeing him smile.

That's not Aaron, it's some guy in Colorado

Before you think I’m getting all Brokeback on you, I’m not. I got thinking about his shit-eating grin as we were packing up and ready to leave, and he sprung one last Cat on us that we didn’t know we had to wash. I begrudgingly went back to tell Chindaddy that we weren’t in fact done yet, like I’d told him, and as we were passing Aaron, Wayne, and Carl, Chin said “Look at him grinning”, and I did. First I thought he meant Carl, who probably has the most unique shit-eating grin that you’ll ever see, but then noticed the smile on Aaron’s face. He’s never been much good at hiding emotion, and that’s probably why I like him so much. Everything is genuine, and you can usually tell if he’s ticked off about something. I like knowing where I stand, and he always lets you know if you are pissing him off. Oh shit, my alarm just went off to get me up; I guess I fell asleep writing…again. Oh well, serves me right for thinking I could pull the coffee table up to the bed and just be “more comfortable”. Looks like this post is a little late, and I’m sorry, but not horribly sorry. I obviously needed some more sleep.

That's not Aaron either. My buddy Mike took this up in Helmet. Not pretty

Back to my pal Aaron, and his purty smile. He has this charming, boyish smile, that I have always loved seeing. Not because I find it attractive, but because it’s completely transparent. If you see it, it means that he’s really happy at that moment. It could be anything that puts it there, a joke, getting onto a machine that was a full time job, so many years ago, or when he’s talking about funny things that happened in days gone by. What I find inspiring, is the smile he gets when he’s with his family. They are the most important things in his world, and it shows when he watches them doing something. Maybe it’s the boys playing with their cars, or Lannie washing their faces after a hearty meal of pizza (it would seem it was just the sauce). Whatever is the cause of that smile; he doesn’t seem to know he’s doing it, and it’s infectious. Sometimes I just think about it at random times, and immediately call him up, because I enjoy hearing his voice, and finding out what’s happening in his life. It’s one of those things that I’d never thought too much about until yesterday, but now that I’ve written this, I’ll remember for next time. I guess I’ll leave off with a picture of my buddy’s smile, and I’ll let you judge for yourselves. There are many reasons why he’s one of my best friends, and that’s probably the one that got the ball rolling. I can’t wait to have him stand by me as I marry the woman of my dreams this summer, and I’m so happy that they will be able to make the long trek across the country.

I'm not saying what put this smile there, but they say that anything goes in Thailand

Do you like the way that you aren’t going to learn about the epic things that happened to Chin and I, because I spent too much time off topic? You can blame Aaron for that.

Pancho was a bandit boys, his horse was fast as polished steel
Wore his gun outside his pants, for all the honest world to feel,

Birdman

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Filed under Birdman, Humor, Life, Lucky Me

I get down sometimes

image Some days I wonder how screwed up I really am. Today was one of those days.  I don’t know why, I just felt like a bag of busted nuts today. For you, that means yesterday, because I almost always write these the night before, and because you are reading this in the future, I need you to pretend that the present is the past. Got that? Then let’s get on with it. I’m sitting here in the Northwoods Inn in Fort St. John, BC, and I’m trying to get a handle on how far gone I am, mentally. I mean compared to others of course, because that’s the only true way to gauge your mental health.

You know that I’m kidding, right? I know that everyone has problems with varying degrees of severity, and that every person handles things differently. What I want to know is what should a person’s breaking point be, and what happens when someone hits that breaking point? Lots of time’s I’ve thought I had hit mine, but then I wonder and start second guessing myself. I’ve never contemplated suicide, cutting, or firing potshots into any group of people, so I guess my little anxiety attacks are relatively mild. Even though it feels like a big empty hole in my heart, I have to step back and look at myself from a different angle. Kind of like when I try to back a trailer into a tight spot, and fail several times in a row. I start to get frustrated, and ride the brakes, which in turn drains the air out and stops the truck. While the truck is airing back up, I get out, walk around the truck and trailer, and curse a lot. While I’m doing this, I’m gaining a new perspective, and seeing my situation in a different light. I can usually jump back in, and hit the dock within a couple of tries after that. It’s just getting out to look at it.

Life’s like that too. You get into patterns that you don’t like, but because you keep doing the same thing all the time, you find it hard to see what you need to do to change it. Maybe you just need to see it from someone else’s point of view, or alter one thing to upset the constant circle of events. I don’t know what I need to do about my little bouts of depression, except to write things down. I know that I can jot down a problem that I might not be able to say out loud, and I have no doubts that people will try to help me, because I have the greatest life partner, family and friends that there are. Before you try to figure out how to help me, realize that in reading something I have written, and enjoying it, thinking about it, and responding to it is actually what helps me get through whatever it is that I’m writing about. I’m not saying that you have to publicly comment,although I do love that, because it might be personal, but you could email me, send a message through Facebook, or call me.

I have no qualms about telling anyone who takes the time to read, exactly what is going through my head. I don’t know why I’m like this, but I suspect that there are a lot of people that feel the same. I guess that when I’m talking to someone, they feel the need to try and solve my problems, but that’s totally not the case. I understand the desire to help people, and I do it to, but most of the time I just want to hear what I’m saying, and how ridiculous it sounds. Joey is probably my best friend, because I can go to him and unload all of my buckets of drudgery, and he nods and listens, and at the end will say something like “Wanna go get some wings?” or “Let’s go get some hookers and a bottle of peach schnapps”. Do you know why I like that? It’s because those are three of my favourite things, and Joe doesn’t know how to solve my problems. Just like I don’t know how to solve his. I’ll enable and support him through his problems, but I can’t do it for him. It’s just the way things work in life. You can help people do things, but if you do the things for them, you aren’t helping them at all.

There, now I feel pretty good, and all I had to do was write down a few paragraphs on Chin’s iPad (I forgot my laptop), after brushing my teeth with the toothbrush he gave me (I lost mine). I will then email it to my phone that is charging on the cord that Chin lent me, which is different than the one he lent me today so I could charge in the steamer (Sometimes I forget things). Chin mentioned tonight that there was only one post that he could remember me flattering him in, and if there is, I’m sorry. Anyone who really knows me, knows that I do not flatter people. If I compliment someone it is heartfelt and true in my eyes and mind, because if I can’t find something good to say about you, there is no way in hell that I’d be talking to you. That being said, I’m very glad that Chin decided to come out here with me, because not only is he thoughtful, smart, and funny, he is also honourable, honest, and generous. He is an excellent travelling companion, and quite a charmer with the ladies. I’m glad I was able to see through his cynical, snarky outer shell, and get to know the guy I’ve come to depend on so much on this trip. I wish him all the best, and no matter where his path leads him, he will always be welcome wherever I am, and as with any of my friends, I will accept his collect calls from jail. I am now pledging my first born to him, but not because I’m to old to look after a baby, honest.

Oh, and to be clear, I’m very tired, and I really miss my family and friends. That was why I was so whiny earlier, but I’ve quit dwelling on the negative, and started focusing on the fact that I love you guys. You are what keeps me going, and even though you bastards didn’t share my well made video yesterday, I still look forward to burdening you with my problems for years to come. Thanks for reading my mind, my heart, and my stories, and thanks for all of the comments, to those of you that take the time. We really do appreciate any feedback we can get, and while I can’t speak for everyone, I always try to respond. Not because I feel I have to, because I like to.

So while you sit back and wonder why, I got this fucking thorn in my side,

Birdman

P.S. I received a comment that the posts are too long, and too much to read. I thought I should check with everyone else, just to see if I should shorten them down. Let me know, either here or on the Facebook page, or wherever you see fit. I try to do a thousand words a day, but that’s just a guideline.

P.S.S. I re-read the post and realized there was no swearing, so I changed the lyric from I can see her lyin’ back in her satin dress, in a room where ya do what ya don’t confess, by Gordon Lightfoot. Haha

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Filed under Birdman, Humor, Life, Lucky Me

Sooooo, I met one of our loyal readers for a coffee

Well, we didn’t actually have a coffee, but that was the original plan. Unfortunately the Village Cafe in Grafton, wasn’t open, because of renovations. When Scotty told me he lived close by, I figured we could meet there; Joey, Mrs. Birdman and I love their breakfast, and I think Tim Hortons has enough of the public’s money, so why not give it to a hardworking family? When Scotty stepped out of the car, I was glad I hadn’t come looking for him the day I jokingly said I was going to punch him in the lips. I probably couldn’t reach his lips, unless I had a step stool and a longer arm; that guy is fucking monolithic. When I suggested we then head to Colborne, he told me he had found out his mother was getting out of the hospital, so he had to head to the city and pick her up. He promised that we’d get together though, so all is well with that. I guess they found that she has an infection, and are going to keep her a little longer, to make sure she gets rid of it, so we’re hoping she gets home soon. Although we aren’t hypocritical enough to pray, we are sending many positive vibes her way, and wishing her the speediest of recoveries.

Now for something we haven’t tried before.

The Mrs and I have been tossing around the idea of introducing our cocoon via video-blog.  The cocoon is a sacred place of fun and love, and one of our most favorite places in the world.  It seemed only natural that it would make an appearance on the blog eventually.  We aren’t sure how this is going to fly, but we thought we would let ‘er rip, and sort things out after the dust settles.  Without further adieu, I give to you, Dear Reader, our first

Cocoon-Cast #1

If you’re after getting the honey – hey

Then you don’t go killing all the bees,

Birdman

P.S. It’s true that I left a warm bed with a naked woman in it to have coffee with a dude, but let’s be fair it was after 9 and I was a little dehydrated.

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Filed under Birdman, Cocoon-Cast, Humor, Lucky Me, Mrs. Birdman

I’ve been a little preoccupied

Man, it’s sure been a fast few days. Now I’m home, had some beautiful cocoon time with my gorgeous lady, and had a few hours sleep. I had a new tooth constructed out of a small piece of wood that Paul carved for me, had it painted a yellowish white and tapped into the hole, and I’m now waiting for a shave and a haircut at John’s Barbershop in Cobourg. Thanks to Chin, I know that he’s still around, and I can get my hair cut, old school. I used to get my hair cuts and shaves here before I moved away, but that was so long ago, and he has changed locations since then. There are not too many places anymore that do shaves, so it’s pretty awesome to find one anywhere. I used to get a shave, haircut, and neck massage at The Barbershop in Fort St. John, BC for $65, and I’ll let you know how much it is here, when I’m done. Holy shit, it was only $26 for the shave and haircut, and he did a very nice shave. I guess I’ll be getting my “Just out of the bush, man pampering” when I get home, from now on. While I was there, I dropped my drawers to see if he could give an estimate on my other “bush beard”, and was told it would be at least $100, because he charges by the hour on big jobs like that. I guess I’ll be singeing it off like last time. Sorry about the smell, Baby, but you know it’ll go away by next week.

The after

The before

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now I’m curious. Do any of you know of a barbershop that does shaves? I know a lot of dudes love getting a nice close shave from time to time, and most don’t know where to go to get one. I am also curious as to the price of a haircut and shave at said barber’s.

Man, it’s so nice to be home. I haven’t seen the girls yet, because they were with their dad to go pick up their new grandmother at the airport. I say “new grandmother” because it’s their step mother’s mother and they’ve never met her before. I bet they are totally excited to get another new family member, and I’m sure that she will just love those two little munchkins to death. How could she not? I know they melted my heart, and everyone in my family’s heart as well. I can’t imagine a better Christmas present than seeing those two opening their gifts on Christmas morning. It was my excitement last year, and now this year, someone else gets to experience that feeling of happiness. I have to say that I’m pretty sad about not seeing them wake up to a tree full of presents, but I’m also glad that “Santa” isn’t getting the chance to be too drunk to dole out the gifts this year.

I checked my list, and you've been very naughty

Yes, that’s correct, Santa got herself a little tipsy last year, and was completely unable to fill the tall order of gift distribution. Luckily she wasn’t spending the holidays alone, and a good little elf stayed sober, drove her drunk ass home from his family Christmas party (where she was the life of the party, and might have put her finger in someone’s ass crack), and managed to decipher her passed out ramblings about Liv Dolls, Zhu-Zhu Pets and what goes into what stocking (he may or may not have heard that one correctly). I had never experienced another child’s Christmas morning until then, and it was magical. I took video, while those excited little hands tore open wrapping paper and ribbons to expose the long sought after trinkets and baubles, that would be played with for days, and maybe as much as a week later. I know that I won’t soon forget that morning, as I’m sure that “new grandmother” won’t either.

Well, it’s nighttime now, and we are tucked away in the cocoon for the duration. We picked up the kids from school, and there was much rejoicing. I got some pretty heavy-duty hugs and huge smiles, so that sure made my already amazing return, that much better. We then went home for supper, and got ready for the Christmas recital at the school. It was so fucking cute to watch those kids show us what they had. Some were inching their way for the wings, while others were giving it that extra little bit of diva flair. It didn’t matter which ones were doing what, they were all adorable, and deserved all of the applause that they got. Jesus, I sure do love being a step-dad, and one thing I love even more, is being a fiance to the greatest person in the world. She makes my life perfect, and truly deserves more than I can give her. Luckily I will get a chance to try and reach that summit, hopefully until the day I die.

Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight,

Birdman

P.S. With all of the chicks and gay dudes (I hope) that read this blog, you don’t think I’d leave you hanging, did ya?

Relax, I'm only kidding, look down for the real one

You didn’t think that was it, did you? I saw that on a friend’s profile, and thought it was funny. Here you go, a nice cheesy hot Santa, because Mrs. B wouldn’t put her glasses on and pick one for me.

I'm sorry if he's not your type. I really tried to find the right man for you.

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Filed under Birdman, Christmas, Humor, Life, Lucky Me

My ultimate dream prize

As some of you may know, I received an invite to the 107.9 The Breeze $10000 dream prize party. I had a chance to win my choice of six different prizes worth ten grand. I didn’t win the prize, but I never really figured I would. I was just excited to meet the morning show crew that I listen to when I start my daily routine. Sure ten thousand bucks worth of groceries would have been a sweet bonus, but it was just nice to know I was going to put some faces to the names that I hear every day.

I listen to The Breeze every morning when I’m in the area (you can listen online), and I really like the Big Breakfast, featuring Jay Sharp, Joe Snider, Inga Belge and Megan Murphy. The personalities of the gang are very complimentary, and they completely make up for the repetitive music playlist. You know I love Rag Mama Rag a lot, but The Band has so many more, deserving songs that I feel could be played as well, and as much as I like Bruce Cockburn, I don’t feel we need to hear Tokyo, or Coldest Night of the Year, every single day. I have never even seen them in someone’s playlist or CD library before, so why do they garner so much air play. Anyhow, enough of my griping, I have been listening to them for a year and a half now, since I moved back from the west, and I have found them to be very interesting people from hearing their stories and on-air lives. That is why I was so excited to score this invitation to the party.

When I went in to pick up my invite from the beautiful, funny and, I assume, brilliant Kristy, I was pleasantly surprised when the one and only Jay Sharp walked out into the reception area. It was like meeting royalty for me, and I felt like I should give him some money or some baubles or something. I had received countless hours of free entertainment from this man, and I felt I should repay him in some small way. Then the thought came to me. Maybe I should hug him and cup his buttocks with my strong hands. I am embarrassed to say that I got too nervous and just stammered something that sounded like a leopard killing an antelope. There was one of my people to meet crossed off the list, now only three more to go.

How sexy is this man?

Fast forward to Sunday morning. We piled into the van, with three quarters of us nursing sore heads and bellies, and headed to Kawartha Downs for the party. I gotta say, calling it a party was a little misleading. We showed up with a cooler full of beer and rum, an ounce of weed, a hookah pipe, and two strippers that we picked up in Belleville. The security guards stopped us at the entrance, and promptly called the cops. (Apparently, the topless law in Ontario only applies to public property.) I voiced my opinion on the subject, and explained that I had an invitation, which I quickly produced for them. By now Joey had given the pot to the strippers, Chastity and Destiny were their names, and had set the pipe on the ground. You see, Joey’s no dummy when it comes to dodging the po po, so when the law came screaming up, Destiny got pinched, and they had an outstanding warrant for Chastity. Turns out they were lying to us, and their real names were Judy and Ted, so I didn’t feel too bad when they got hauled off, and I was thankful their shorts had stayed on. We put the cooler back in the van and went inside, only to find out that there wasn’t much happening in the way of a party. Joey pulled a couple of T-Dolls out of his pocket and handed me one. I crushed it up on the picnic table and snorted it, while a couple of ladies checked out the camper trailer right beside me.

Okay, maybe it was more like this: Joey, Mrs.Birdman, Khrissy and I waited in line for half an hour, went in to meet my idols, saw that they were busy and then went outside to let the sun hurt my brain. I got to meet Rob “The Rocket” Mitchell, and then we went back inside where the folks were setting things up, so I went over and introduced myself to Joseph P Snider. I was kind of hoping for a deeper voiced, Les Nessman, but was presented with one hell of a strapping fellow. The sheer power of the man’s handshake was emotionally crippling, and his rapt gaze pierced my very being to the core. I had to pull myself away as I felt him extracting tiny, but very important bits of my tender soul. I then turned my attention to the beautiful, angelic face of Megan P Murphy, and found my faith in humanity slowly being restored. I envisioned African children, having their bellies filled by her aura, and dictators freeing their citizens from tyranny. I wanted to hug her more than I’ve ever wanted anything, but alas, Mrs. Birdman beat me to it. I was saddened to hear that Inga B. was not attending the event, because I wanted to commend her for her bravery, working in such close quarters with these formidable specimens of humankind. I also got to see Jay Sharp again, but not for very long. I felt him making me wish I was gay, and then he broke the connection to get something ready with the production.

Ethereal beauty, personified

Don't look into his eyes

I did not win the $10000 dream prize, but I walked away with a new respect for people who work in radio. I also got to see some wonderful sets of breasts, hold hands with the love of my life, meet some of my morning heroes and see two people win a prize that made them so happy that I didn’t care whether I won a million dollars. I left that place with a huge smile on my hungover face, a beautiful woman on my arm, and a mission to try for a job at The Breeze when I get back in the spring.

I hate graveyards and old pawn shops,

Birdman

P.S. Jay Sharp smelled like charisma and Puritan Irish Stew, two of my favorite things.

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Last night was tough

When I got home last night, it was around 7:30 and I was hungry and tired. My sweet baby made me some damn fine soup that she learned about from a friend, and she spit fired a chicken in the backyard, so that I could have a nice, hot chicken on a kaiser with it. I was thinking about how lucky I was, when the phone rang and Mrs. Birdman had to speak with a client. The girls bedroom door then opened, with two bored little girls holding a handful of tattoo markers. So, seeing as their mom was on the phone, I allowed them to give me some new ink. They actually did a pretty good job for little kids. Awww, who am I kidding? They did a better job than I could have done, I totally suck at art.

Look out, Kat Von D...she's gunning for your job

We decided that it was time to tell them that I was going away for a while. Not because we were just waiting for the right time, but I guess it just never came up before. It is two weeks away now, so I guess it might have been a little late, but what do you do? There was a lot of asking “Why?” and  tears welling up in the eyes, but that was just from me. T didn’t think it was fair that I was going to be gone for Christmas, and when I told her that I was coming back for the holidays, her eyes dried and brightened up and she said, “Are you going to bring us something?” That brought me back from the edge, and we all had a laugh and some hugs. After that we went out in the rain and lit a bonfire, and we roasted wieners and s’mores, while telling ghost stories and reliving the past ten months together. Ten months. It seems like we’ve been together far longer than that. I have a hard time remembering when I wasn’t looking out for them, or fixing something up, like the luge track down the snowplow pile, which had been dug out into a fort.

I explained to them that I don’t like leaving for work before they wake up, and coming home when they are in bed, or getting ready for bed. I told them that I want to eat breakfast and supper with them, and that if I go out for the winter, it will afford us the option for me to look for a better job with better hours. A job that I can be happy at. Can you imagine? I know some of you can, I’m living with one. I actually feel pretty selfish about wanting that for myself, partly because I don’t think that I deserve it more than anyone else, but mostly because it’s me that wants to be here with them. I didn’t once ask if they would like me to be here more. Maybe they are quite happy with me showing up for an hour or two each day, and every other weekend we’ll maybe do something fun. I guess it is selfish, but I don’t even care. I hate when they are already in bed when I get home, and I know I won’t get to see them until the next night, if I get done early enough.

I always think about when I was a little kid, and my dad would go out for a few beer after work, and he’d come into our rooms and wake us up to say he loved us. I never cared that he woke me up, I liked seeing him, but he was my father, and that kind of thing is acceptable when you’re a dad. It seems a bit creepy if a step-dad is doing that, no matter how innocent. It’s too bad that the world has come to that really, but I totally understand. I’ve taken the girls out on several occasions, and I’m scared shitless. I am constantly watching everyone that goes near them, looks their way or breathes upwind of them. It totally freaks me out, because you never know who is lurking, or where. I know the odds are slim, but every other parent that has had a child snatched has probably said the same thing. I think it’s worse if they aren’t your children, because then there are two or more people that can’t live with themselves.

What a fucked up world we live in. I remember being a kid, and the whole community looked out for the kids there. We were told what houses to stay away from, and who we weren’t to talk to. If we did what we were told, nothing bad would happen. I rarely did what I was told, and when I would get home, my parents knew where I had been, who I was with and what I did. I was usually sneaking a smoke that we stole from Bugsy’s parents or maybe shooting bottle rockets at the ducks with Joe. It didn’t matter, I would get spotted, and promptly ratted out. I’m glad I got caught, because that meant there were people all over the place that cared about me, and I have no doubt that if any harm was befalling me, those same people that were telling on me, would be right there helping me.

So thank you Wally Young, Shorty Sandercock, Clara Drope, Nancy Houston, and the countless other people who gave a shit about what happened to me. Even though most of you are gone, you are not forgotten. I don’t know if there is a saying about community shaping the children, but there should be. Someone make it up, so I don’t have to. Ah, what the hell, I’ll try a few. “A person is only as good as the community that they grew up in.” or, “A person with no community, is not a person, they are a fucking savage.” Maybe I’ll leave the quote making up to the professionals. Anyhow, I loved where I grew up, I loved how I was raised, and I love who I’ve become. I guess it doesn’t get any better than that, does it? Oh, maybe a good job to come back to, but whatever, I’ll make out okay, I always do.

Give a kid shit tomorrow,

Birdman

P.S. The cooking the chicken in the backyard, and the bonfire thing might be bullshit.

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