2012

The Mayans are terrible at predicting the apocalypse. I waited all day on the 21st of December for the world end and end this terrible year on a high note. In reality 2012 was not that bad. There were more highs than lows. I guess at this point in the game, I no longer sweat the small stuff. I also don't expect much from anything anymore. I made my bed so now I slap my CPAP mask (for my sleep apnea) on and sleep in it like a baby. I used to say 'why me?' now I say 'who else if not me' Somebody has to draw the short straw.

Christmas on Nicholson Street

This year I really wasn't looking forward to having a "Merry Christmas" Money is tight, couldn't do the things I wanted and our daughter is away. She went to Nicaragua for the holidays with my parents. That just left me and my wife. I already knew she wasn't going to be any fun. She was already depressed with our daughter being away. She doesn't like it when we're broke. She doesn't admit it, but I think she blames me for the hard times. I try my best with what I have but it just seems to never be enough.

Secret Santa

Today God reminded my family and I that God still exists in the world. I always read about people randomly and anonymously paying people's bills or layaway around the holidays. I try to believe that they are great people and that the people that are on the receiving end are very deserving. I never ask, why not me? Unfortunately I don't have the fortune and disposable income to be a Secret Santa and help the less fortunate. Even though times are tough and I have to be creative when making my income last, I don't see us as less fortunate or poor, because I know that there are people who have way less then we do.

Burgundy and Gold

I never understood why most guys were so enamored with sports, a team or a player. I always said why bother rooting for a guy that makes hundreds of thousands to play a game while I bust my ass to make ends meet. I would watch a baseball game here and there with my dad. Whenever a big fight was on, I would watch it. I've been to a couple of NBA games when I scored free tickets. I never wore a jersey, bet on a game or cried about the outcome of a game or the well-being of a player.

These Hands

These hands. Ashy and rough to the touch. Scars scattered everywhere. You have no idea what these hands are capable of. Where these hands have been and what these hands can do.

These hands can. Make a fist. Make an obscene gesture. Hold a knife. Shoot a gun. Throw up a gang sign. Throw up a peace sign. Construct things. Destroy things. Clap. Slap. Hold things. Throw things. Pull me up. Pull you down.

With these hands I. Feed my family. Console my daughter. Pay for things. Feed people. Cook. Hold my wife. Hold my head up. Pray to God. Wave hello. Wave good bye. Type these words.

I've used these hands to. Scratch records. Sell drugs. Fly a kite. Do graffiti. Change a tire. Swing a hammer. Pour a drink. Smoke. Drive a bus. Drive a truck. Make a pizza. Restore a bike. Plant a garden. Vote.

Without these hands, I am nothing.

My Not So Funny Half Foreign Film Festival

My wife recently put me on to something that I didn't realize existed. When I was younger I would borrow movies from the library but they would cost a dollar. Since blockbuster went out of business, we didn't rent much. She found out she could borrow DVDs from the library completely free of charge. Last week we borrowed Life is Beautiful with Roberto Benigni, Bullitt with Steve McQueen and Saving Private Ryan starring Tom Hanks. We've been on this WWII kick lately. I always seem to gravitate to foreign films, because most Hollywood films annoy me. I was never one to buy into the blockbuster film hype.

Remember the time...

Dark smokey room. All I can see is the cherry red ember on the tip of my colleague's cigars. I didn't even notice when the waitress laid my Scotch on the rocks (Macallan 12) on the table next to me. The only other bright light came from the big screen TVs on the wall broadcasting Arizona vs Arizona State. It was a table for 4 with 2 of us sitting across from each other. It reminded me of the scenes in That 70's Show when they smoked weed in Eric's basement. Two of the guys I've known for almost 20 years and the 3rd was a friend of a friend who although I recognized his name from Facebook was only my first time meeting him.