A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

The lunatic has cancer

2009-08-23T17:52:00.000-07:00

Back from Fargo, and the lesion was cancer.

Doctor says he was able to get it all, so now I have a hole in my head literally, although it is stitched shut so I am not oozing grey matter onto my right ear which makes listening much much easier. All I have to say is thank god for catgut, or whatever synthetic they currently use to suture the as it were back into the as it should be realm.

As luck would have it, following my medical adventure, sugarbooger and I went to Perkins to eat and once done, my trusty steed would not turn on. Thankfully, I called my Verizon auto protection (similar to AAA) on my brand new handy dandy cell phone. The company that jumped my steed showed up in three to four minutes literally as my luck was still holding and they were located less than 74 feet 6 and 3/8ths inches from Perkins (they were right next door). The wrecker driver took one look at my battery cable, took out his handy dandy super sized screwdriver and a brush, cleaned the positive post, gave it exactly 5 healthy raps with the handle of said screwdriver and asked me to turn her over. Purred like a kitten ... ahhhh, nothing more pleasant than an ending such as this I said to myself, and sugarbooger and I drove blissfully towards the setting sun.

Sugarbooger, however, had her widdle heart set on doing some big city shoppin' at Geblunkers, or was it Gedankxzs, or Gebauers ... ah hell, it was a Pier 1 clone Gesomething ... old man memory aint all that grand at 1:30am. I being the understanding Cosmopolitan reading, Young and Useless watching, feminist leaning, pro-choicer I am, I pulled into said clones parking lot and followed her into the store. Once our hour and precisely three minutes and 37 seconds of shopping were done which by the way produced absolutely no purchases what-so-ever, my truck would not start.

Hummmmm thought I to myself, I am really fucked now, as sugarbooger looked at me in that special way telling me she had just about had enough of my brand of stupid. Attempting to be da man, I popped the hood confidently and tried in vain to convince her that I knew precisely how to rectify this latest difficulty. I took my keys (the only tools I have in my truck by the way) and using my house key, began prying and scraping the offending positive cable to try and coax it to please, please, PLEASE cut me some god damned slack and start my damned truck. Of course, this was wasted effort as I had no way to jump start my engine. Well, well, well, what a predicament ... nothing left to do but to call my Verizon auto protection a second time (did I mention they are similar to AAA?)! This time however, it took them quite a bit longer to come to my aid as sugarbooger and I had traveled a piece from their place of business right next door to Perkins. Once the wrecker got there with a new "technician", who listened intently to my story, and then grabbed a wrecking bar, and began pounding my starter with it like a crazed carnie driving tent stakes. This action on his part caused my blood pressure to go up sufficiently that the hole in my head sprung a huge leak and I began shooting spurts of blood right through the gauze taped over said hole. Sugarbooger being the quick thinker that she is grabbed a wad of napkins purloined over the years out of my glove box and began applying pressure over the sprung leak. Even though I was now beginning to realize my luck was well, NOT SO GOOD, the truck did start.

Sugarbooger suggested we return post haste to Dr. Tsen to have my head examined. Due to the amount of blood involved, I agreed, and on the 4 and 7/10ths mile trip across town to the cancer center, we deduced that perhaps it would not be too wise to turn the truck off. Sugarbooger agreed to stay with the truck whilst I went into the doctors office to get restitched and rewrapped. I must have looked a sight to the nurses, as they wasted no time getting me in an examination room and getting the doctor. My best conservative estimate is that it was in the neighborhood of 3 minutes 13 and a half seconds from the time I arrived at the nurses station to when the doctor was pulling the tape off my head to view the hole much with the same vigor as a 17 year old removing his girlfriends panties for the same reason. Luckily, the sutures had held and with the correct pressure applied to the correct spot, the doctor stopped the bleed and applied a wad of gauze. To be safe, the doctor decided to apply extra wraps this time, so I left his office looking a lot like a mummy, except my eyes were intact and not yet rotted out. He did however have the wrap completely covering both ears making wearing glasses very, very difficult.

It goes without saying that sugarbooger wanted to get on the road back to Mandan immediately. I concurred but we still had a small problem ... we needed gas. Being the macho man now, I insisted that I could still though somewhat wounded, fill up the truck. Got some strange looks from the people (fellow patrons) at the gas station, and a very strange look from the cashier who asked me what had happened. I told him I had had brain surgery and that they had found nothing, paid the bill, and walked out.

Made it back to Mandan with no further problems.

Can't believe it!

2009-06-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

Turned 60 today. Wow, still think like I am 18, and wondering where it all went, and how I got from there to here without paying closer attention. It all seemed to pass by at lightening speed and I honestly resent having missed out on my own existence as it were.

My adult life has been such a drag .... so much bad to deal with, so much pain and anguish. But, I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I sure do wish however that something good would happen so the remainder of my life isn't such a waste.

Anyway, happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Michael, happy birthday to me. And Many More!!!!!!!

Why am I here?

2008-10-23T00:37:00.000-07:00

Have been thinking all day about my life, and have concluded that perhaps the reason life has passed so fast is because I allowed myself to be unaware of its impassioned, frantic existence all around me. And then, just as I was about to pat myself on the back for my intellectual prowess ... bammmmmm, something wicked punched me in the nose.

I hadn't had a halleluia moment at all .. nor had I come to some great crossroad of principled thought. I began to be more grievously perturbed, confused, bewildered, and depressed. What if this truly is what it is, and there is no more? Then (remembering briefly a joke someone once had sent) I smiled, laughed, became amused thinking that perhaps "the hokey pokey REALLY is what it is all about!"

Isn't self a terrible, terrible thing? The perception of the world is so trite and self-serving for us all is it not? We begin to believe that OUR intellect and grasp of all things worldly and unworldly for that matter is correct and superior to the belief and at the expense of, all others around us with whom we come into contact.

Human conceit is what causes all of our great personal loss I believe. Were I able to diminish my perception of myself, perhaps I would better understand the position of those around me and finally come to a caramba moment in my personal growth. Learning to put self behind others and consider others prior to self is the task at hand for us all.

We are given so much time to accomplish the task. Few of us truly grasp the concept, or accomplish it. We are not conditioned or equipped to think after all. Thought too is learned. How we think, what we think, and how we react to our thought is taught to us by parents diminished by their own misperception of the world they inherited from their parents, and on, and on, and on, and on. And so it goes and WE grow to be adults and teach the nightmarish habit to our children.

Were I to be given a second chance at life, I would try harder, but most likely the result would be much as it is. I am a stubborn man after all, and at my age change comes slow. But ...... I sure do detest what I am and would like to change so badly. Time, not enough time to relearn everything. I want to think better thoughts, do better things, love more deeply, feel more passionately, speak more softly, hear with more clarity, see with better perception, but time is running out and I fear my clock will cease ticking before I condition myself to THINK as I should, and be as I want to be.

Later!

Sunday

2008-10-12T10:30:00.000-07:00

Woke up today to the sound of the phone ringing. It was my brother Kelly, and I didn't wake in time to answer, so I will make it a point to call him later. I am thinking about making a road trip to Superior, but am waiting to see what Sugarbooger is going to do about her job, as I want someone to go with me.

Not much to report today really, but I am getting more optimistic about the chance that Obama might actually win this election. I hope and pray that he does, because we really need to get to the bottom of what Bush actually did while in office, and if McCain is elected, I am fairly certain the country will never know how evil that man actually is.

Some advice.

2008-10-04T15:26:00.000-07:00

Purely by accident, I ran across a website that is similar to mine. The person who authored the site has some incredible things to say, is a wonderful writer, poet, and has a great depth of character. I have never done this before, but I kind of assume if you have found my site and actually are reading this, that perhaps you would be interested in his site as well. So, I heartily recommend that you check out:

http://elroy.net/

later

Just a little update.

2008-10-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

I got an email from someone asking me how to comment on my blog. I responded with information explaining how that was done, but also informed her that it was my intent to discontinue my website once my current subscription is finished due to the cost.

It really makes little sense to do something that no-one is going to use anyway does it? I stopped doing updates a long time ago too because of the work involved with maintaining a site. I wish this weren't the case, but I think people are just too busy with their own lives to add one more distraction to the mix. And, isn't surfing the net just one more distraction?

I suspect women are more apt to be distracted by the internet than men, but I could be wrong about that. We men have a lot of other things to distract us ... football, hockey, baseball, NasCar ... diversions from reality, all.

Sad that so much importance is placed on the unimportant. Right now the world and especially the USA is in a lot of trouble, and yet the general population appears ignorant of that which is happening right under their noses and in full view. If people would just open their eyes to the nitemare taking place, perhaps the human race could save itself. Instead, most seem content to just kick back, turn on the tube, grab a cold one, and turn off their ability to think. That is exactly how we ended up with Bush, McCain, and crew, and that is exactly how we are going to lose the democratic republic we all still believe exists. Unfortunately, but undeniable this Constitutional government is slowly slipping away, and the population is standing idly by while Rome burns.

Sad. I wish I could change it and wake people up. But, the brainwashing has been completed on most, and the liklihood of turning back the clock to the days where people actually thought about the issues pragmatically are long gone. I don't imagine a beautiful world for my grandchildren, and boy do I feel guilty about that. Ours is the first generation that is handing a worse world over to our children than the one we enjoyed the day we were born. But, the real damage done by MY generation won't be fully realized until our grandchildren are adults. They will not have anything resembling a fair shake or chance, regardless of how hard they work.

I hope I am wrong. I hope I am wrong.

Later, dudes and dudettes.

2008-06-22T01:39:00.000-07:00

Haven't done this for a while. Is anyone out there interested in me continuing to do this? If so, please comment so I know it is worth my while. Thanks.

2007-07-27T00:29:00.000-07:00

don't have much to report. That is a fact, Jack. But when I consider the events going on around the world, it makes me want to write. I think this is one good way to deal with your frustration. I do consider (know) that my blog is not read by anyone other than Bush's team of brownshirts whose sole responsibility is to identify those Americans most in disagreement with the President, and therefore the most unloyak so then can come into my home and take an illegal look around.

I say, come on down boys and girls, to my knowlege I have nothing to hide, don't have porn even to give them something to watch whilst they eat milk and cookies that I will begin leaving out each evenin whn I am getting ready for bed. Speaking of PORN, I can't believe that I spent my entire life without seeing Behind the Green Door and Debbie Does Dallas. There are probably others that would have provided me with a modicum orf education in the area of sexual prowess. But, walking into aa Adult Book Store is an aberration to me so the odds of me ever seeing those films (?) will most likely ever happen unless of course someone at the class reunion is going to us them as an ice breaker ... I think that is a good idea ... we could all fall naked into a pile and see who grabs a gun first. I hope it is a 22, that would be better for all concerned ... small caliber provides a better chance of survival.

Before I got sick, I repaired computers on the side, and also built new ones for sale. Now, due to the fight required to beat cancer, I don't even get on my own very often as I can't think when I am in so much pain, Perhaps it was God telling me to slow the f3&* down before my heart attaciked me. No matter what the reasoning, I had four (4) heart attacks. Two while I was undergoing treatment for cancer, and one immediately BEFORE, and ONE (a really bad boy) AFTER!

I have decided that I will not have another. I have lost 100 pounds and that should be enough to protect my inner damn self don't you think>

Later dudes and dudettes

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-11-17T01:15:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

I am going to stray a little into the political tonight.

The one and ONLY thing I can find some agreement with the current batch of republicans about, is the immegration issue.

Oh I know the liberal stance is amnesty. It is just that I happen to disagree with that stance. It is not that I want to see a bunch of people here illegally charged for their action of illegally entering this country. I don't really have a mean-spirited bone in my body, and revenge is not something I am comfortable with.

I am just a believer in enforcing the law of the land. If you want to stop illegal immegration,I believe the best way to approach it is to eliminate the reason people are illegally entering this country in the first place.

To do that, I think "employers" need to be held as accountable if not more accountable than the immegrants themselves. Employers entice illegals by providing them ILLEGALLY with jobs. Why do employers do that? Because of greed plain and simple. By encouraging and hiring illegals they have basically an unlimited supply of workers willing to WORK FOR LESS! This keeps the wages of the American people (citizens, middle class, you know .... yours truly, and our sons, daughters, and grandchildren) lower than they otherwise would be.

This is why Bush is so in favor of amnesty. Corporate, business people ... his base... are for amnesty. They do NOT want the law already on the books applied to THEM. It is not in THEIR interest to hold them accountable in a court of law.

Oh, I know the argument could be made that by allowing amnesty the democratic party most likely would be the benefactor of the resultant voting block. My argument is that the democratic party will also be the benefactor IF the law already on the books is upheld, employers are charged and convicted for hiring illegal aliens, and immegration is thus discouraged because jobs available to them will dry up. Wages for poor and middle class Americans will thus raise, and poor and middle class workers who have benefited from this increase in their wellfare will be primarily democratic voters anyway.

Amnesty benefits corporations plain and simple, and is not in the best interest of poor and middle class American workers, and therefore should not be encouraged or legislated by either democrats or republicans, for by doing so, they are encouraging or legislating breaking the law of the land which states that it is illegal for an employer to employ someone in this country without a green card.

End of argument! Wise up America ... and encourage lawmakers to force employers to obey OBEY the law of the land by holding THEM responsible and accountable when they break the law by hiring illegal aliens!

Later!

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-11-15T17:10:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Sometimes I feel as though I have been abandoned by God, left to my own devices to deal with the tribulation of the moment. When I begin to feel down on God and the slightest mental inducement towards anger creeps into my consciousness, I become weaker and more unable to correct the situation I find myself in.

I am of the opinion that the Creator is in me ... not an abstract being in some mysterious place. As long as I remain convinced that I possess a piece of God, I am better able to control my circumstance. When I digress and submit to the ramblings of religious bigots who insist that God is all powerful and far removed from us all, I become less powerful and far far removed from the ability to control my reality.

God is in me, not outside of me ... therefore, I can deal with this pain ... I think?

Later

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-11-07T06:51:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Keep your eye on the PRIZE!
When things happen that we are made aware of that are upsetting to us, often it is because the offender didn’t keep his eye on the prize. That is what happened (I believe) with the Ted Haggard situation.
I am not an evangelical, and I certainly am not a Republican … I am however a Christian. For me, this means that before everything else, I have to keep my eyes, my ears, my whole being focused upon the teachings of Christ. I am keeping my eye on the prize.
For Christians, the prize is forgiveness. The only route to absolute forgiveness is through the sacrifice of Christ. This is why it concerns me so much to see the actions of the churches in this country who have become so caught up in the abortion issue, the gay marriage issue, and other issues such as Terri Schiavo. These issues lose sight of the prize and in fact are intended (I believe) on diverting the attention away from the prize.
Certainly for Christians Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John are far more important than Leviticus. If that is not the case, then the offending Christian has lost sight of the prize. If condemnation of those who seek abortions or those who are gay is more the focus of your church than helping the poor and middle class, then you are simply in the wrong church!
The failings of Ted Haggart, Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Baker are nothing more than the failings of men, and have nothing to do with the true church. The true church keeps its eye on the prize and practices forgiveness in everything. Therefore, true Christians overlook the failings of men and keep their eye on the prize. If we are unforgiving, the sacrifice of Christ and His forgiveness will be denied.
Later!

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-11-01T11:25:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Why is it that the closer we get to having God in government, the farther away government seems to move from the teachings of Christ?

I think the founding fathers understood that theocratic governance WAS NOT in the best interests of the people. Perhaps the American continent inquisition known as the Salem witch trials played a small but pivotal part in their opinion that church and spiritual matters needed to be kept in the heart and sanctuary, and politics had best be kept clear of vestments, cathedrals, and piety. This is nothing more than conjecture on my part however, and my assumption relative to this may be all wrong. Oh well, the God I believe in is a forgiving God, and he understands that being mortal, I am basically flawed by nature and am going to make mistakes. But, I do not believe I am correct in believing with all my being that the founding fathers did not opt for a theocracy for a reason, that reason being that "churches" tend THIER flocks, while governments are charged with tending everyone's flock.

It would not have served the country well to only be concerned about the well being of Baptists while ignoring the needs of Episcopalians, Hindus, Presbyterians, Methodists, etc. Therefore, the founding fathers opted for a republic, and with Thomas Jeffersons writings as evidence, the conclusion by most in this country has been for 200 years that separation of church and state was the founding fathers intention.

It is my humble opinion following 57 years of thought on the matter that spirituality is a good thing! I have transformed myself through the years from Lutheran to agnostic, agnostic to athiest, athiest to agnostic, agnostic to spiritualist, spiritualist to Lutheran, and finally, Lutheran to Catholic. 57 years of thought and observation has also led me to believe that church inside my government is a VERY BAD thing.

So much of what people "think" they know is wrong. In example, if the Bible is the absolute inspired work of our creator, why did it take the actions of "political theocrats" in the 2nd century to convene a commission to decide which ancient texts would be included? I propose that God inspired in one way or another everything EVER written, so it seems suspicious to me that some texts were deemed not suitable for inclusion.

I am not proposing that the Bible is incorrect .... what I do suspect is that it is incomplete. It is incomplete intentionally, by design if you will. What did the second century political theocrats want us NOT TO KNOW, and why?

More tomorrow! Later!

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-11-01T00:17:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

A friend died today ... a dear friend. Ron and I go wayyyyyy back. I met him within months of being discharged, and he and I both worked for the same company. He (like I) was newly married, and both of us were entirely full of ourselves.

Youth is such a marvelous thing isn't it? Marvelous in that in youth, one feels invincible. The mere thought of being mortal and fragile is not something one can comprehend at 21. We conducted ourselves according to our invincibility, our im-mortality, and our im-maturity. Life was good.

When young, alcohol played a big part in the establishment of my place in the pecking order. It also played a large part in Rons life. As I aged, I discovered after numerous errors, that I was beyond squirrelly while sober, and absolutely a maniac when drinking. I consequently decided one day that alcohol would no longer play a role in my life, and I quit drinking almost overnight. Ron did not, but it did not matter. He and I were friends, and he laughed at me drunk, and he continued to enjoy my particular humor and personality when I was sober. I always enjoyed Ron's company, his zest for life was never impaired when he was drinking. He was intelligent, a great conversationalist, a loyal friend, and an honorable man.

I will miss him. Most of all, I will miss the notion that somewhere in this world Ron is walking around spouting his particular brand of bullshit and then smiling at you in that crooked way he had which told you he didn't mind that you knew it was crap. He intended for most of what he did to shock you ... that was Ron's schtick .... he wanted you to be as amazed by living as he was.

Go with the wind my friend. I know you will always have a cold one in your right hand, a smoke hanging out of one side of your mouth, and a joke spewing from your lips. I also know that the spirit which you denied while alive, now enjoys your company. God needed a good laugh in these trying times, and that is why you were taken now. Go with the wind, Ron Beeler ... and goodbye dear friend.

The Path is strewn with pebbles, stones, and boulders!

2006-06-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

All of our life involves incredible risk. We begin by being protected from it by our mothers and fathers, and in the process of maturing, we learn to completely overlook most of it.

The trials of life can be compared to getting pebbles in our shoes, stumbling on stones, and having to figure a way around huge boulders blocking our path.

The pebble is small and really no more than a nuisance, and in this analogy is a metaphore for people who speak badly of us, dislike us without taking the time to get to know us, or take advantage of us.

The stone is larger, and can cause pain if we are hit by it or accidentally step on it. Stones are those who do get to know us, dislike us, and intentionally take advantage of us. Stones can cause traumatic emotional damage.

Boulders are huge and can crush us. Boulders are people, places, and things that should be avoided at all costs.

Later!

I Believe

2006-06-13T23:17:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Crisis of faith. Doesn't really matter ... life is a series of doubts, uncertainties, and lapses in our ability to unconditionally believe.

Some of us have traumatic lapses .... such as agnostics or atheism. I did ... for years and years. Didn't matter.

I got an email today that troubled me. It implied that Christ only would hear the minority of people who truly, wholly believed in Him.

I can't accept that idea at all. My God listens to all regardless of religious affiliation. If He didn't ... or more apt perhaps if I didn't believe this way, I simply could not believe that He existed at all.

I was taught that Christ came to save the least amongst us ... the truly sinful, and unworthy. I will stick with that belief and take my chances.

My God loves all of humanity, and speaks to us all according to our individual need.

Later

Be a good shepherd.

2006-06-04T06:49:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

What criteria do you use to define yourself?

For a good part of my life, I defined myself by what I hated, and acted accordingly. It took a pretty severe shock to my system, and a couple days at a retreat examining my relationship with God and the failure of my marriage to realize that I had missed something vital and fundamental to my spiritual journey.

The admonition "Love thy neighbor, as thyself" became clearer to me. Slowly, I came to understand that before I could interact effectively and positively with those around me, I first had to learn to interact effectively and positively "with myself!" For me, the most difficult task I had faced in my life up to that point was "loving myself." This made it virtually impossible to even begin to understand how to love others.

There is a parable in the Bible about tending to ones flock. I never understood what that really meant. I thought that tending to my flock meant I had to (by any means possible) reign in those around me who didn't conform to my ideals and wishes. It wasn't until I learned to love myself and accept my shortcomings and strengths as a part of the whole me, that I understood that before I could be an effective shepherd I had to be in touch with "my flock" and leave other flocks alone. A good shepherd doesn't after all take it upon himself to try to control and herd another shepherds flock, he pays close attention to his own and gently nudges them towards the sweet grass and water. Done any other way, the competent shepherd knows that his sheep will scatter in every direction.

For ME, it doesn't work any other way. I am paying close attention to my attitudes and actions while letting the attitude and actions of others not affect my own as much as possible. I accept that not everyone thinks or feels as I do, and have come to understand that it is these differences that make the whole of humanity such a beautiful and wonderful thing.

Later!

I am nothing more than an afterthought.

2006-05-30T07:28:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

I don't know how I became so insignificant. It happened like a thief in the night ... slow, methodical, un-noticed. And now, it is here, and I am so damn alone.

I am not first in anyone's life. My needs are NEVER put ahead of anyone else's. Where did I go wrong?

I am not taken seriously. Perhaps this is what is feeding my tremendous anger.

My kids tend to see me only when it is convenient for them, or when they need something from me.

I am about 14th on Barbara's list. This disturbs me a lot.

So much of what has happened the past 7 years is upsetting to me. Yet, I hide my feelings because I don't want to upset anyone else. My feelings take second place even to me!

I'm not even first in my own life. That is not a good thing.

Later!

Help Mr. Wizard

2006-05-02T10:19:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

This is not a good day. Woke up sick as a dog ... so much pain I think if I gave in to it, I would spew chunks. This pre-supposes that I had something in my stomach to spew. My normal routine is to avoid eating like the plague as long as I can, as once I eat my throat really, really hurts ... so, I take the lessor of two evils, and hunger is a lot less painful!

The downside of this plan of attack is that once I start eating and the damage is done, I gorge myself and eat non-stop until I go to bed. And, I am not eating the right things either, but I eat the things I can taste and still like ... which, being diabetic are not good for me at all. But, I figure what is there to lose.... I have insulin and know how to use it! I have needle, will inject mentality enters into my food choices now, where before cancer, I was on a stricter dietary protocol for sure!

The mental wear and tear of this disease is almost as bad as the actual damage done! Not a second goes by that I don't think about the prospect of the cancer returning. This is particularly true when I am having a really bad day such as today. I have made the decision and discussed it with my family that should the cancer return, I am going to tell the doctors to take a hike and just let it run its' awful course. I would have a different attitude I am sure if the physicians involved were willing to address the pain issue, but political considerations being what they are in this country, the medical community is entirely willing to let a person suffer to avoid the perception that they are feeding someone’s narcotic addiction.

From my perspective, I would much rather be addicted to morphine and have a life, than suffer like I do and be unable to do much of anything other than "compute"! Before I came off morphine, I was productive, able to take care of my yard, even took out the old chainsaw and did major pruning to a yard full of trees, loaded everything up and hauled the refuse away ... you know, was kind of normal. Now, I don't do anything other "than this", and that is nothing short of cruel.

I would go to the doctor under normal circumstances, but what is the point? As long as the medical community is unwilling to address the pain issue, they have nothing to give me that I want. I don’t want another of their so-called cures. If I had known in advance what the results of this radical neck dissection would be, I certainly WOULD NOT have allowed it. This is especially true if they had told me that I was going to be left with the pain to endure without any help at all. I need to clarify that…. Without ADEQUATE help! Sure I was given Neurontin and was told that it would block "certain" sensations in my face. That is all well and good, except, it does NOTHING to control the pain in my jaw, neck, or shoulder. Nor does it resolve the tingling in my right arm all the way to my fingers, nor does it take the chill out of my face, neck, and right arm.

It astonishes me that humans have more compassion for their pets than they do for each other! We would arrest anyone subjecting their pets to the misery we demand be subjected on other human beings in the name of saving their life. You don't have to look too far for prime examples of what I am talking about ... of course; you have to be able to be humane and intelligent at the same time to understand the point.

As an example, I will use the Terri Schiavo case. God sits in condemnation upon everyone involved with that case with the exception of Michael Schiavo and Terri Schiavo. Everyone who advocated her continued suffering did so with bias and political consideration, and in my opinion, Senator Frist should lose his license to practice medicine for his part in that fiasco! Think about it ... if Ms. Schiavo actually was able to "think", after 15 years of lying in a bed unable to move or interact in any way with her surroundings, she was stark raving insane! I thank the Lord she was a vegetable totally unaware of her predicament! The fact that the "supposed" Christian community were the ones advocating her continued suffering did more to damage my own personal Christian belief than any other single fact in my life. I have not gone to church since on a regular basis, and have come to believe that the so-called "church" is an instrument for evil and no longer something I can associate with. This is not to say that I am not a Christian, I am.... just not a George Bush, Tom Delay, Bill Frist, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, James Dobson sort of Christian! The churches that support that kind of Christianity can and WILL go straight to hell in my humble opinion!

As long as I am venting, I also would like to point out another total lack of Christian compassion shown by our leadership. When the Schiavo issue was brought up, our President cut short his vacation, flew back to Washington, to sign a bill initiated by Senator Frist or Tom Delay (I can’t remember which for sure) in an attempt to "save her life!" When Katrina devastated New Orleans and the Gulf Coast, I didn’t see a mad rush by Tom Delay, Bill Frist, or George Bush to cut short their vacation(s) to address the needs of those starving and dying as a result of that hurricane. Think about that for a moment! Apparently, the powers that be saw nothing to be gained by addressing a national catastrophe like Katrina, but Terri Schiavo … now that was a totally different story. Talk about hypocrisy of the highest order … it makes me physically sick!

Back to the original train of thought. I was on a feeding tube for almost a year, and I can tell you from personal experience, it isn't fun! It is difficult to even watch television … every other commercial is about ‘FOOD’, and you can’t eat. And you haven’t lived until you have vomited through a feeding tube designed for one-way movement of liquid (in, not out)! The excess travels up your throat and exits through your mouth. This is really, really fun when the inside of your throat is as crisp as bacon because of radiation. I went from 223 pounds to 139 pounds on a feeding tube … hell of a diet plan!

All I have to say is I thank God for insulin. When this gets too much to handle any longer, I will simply fill up a needle I have hidden that will handle a full bottle of insulin, take out a bottle of wine, drink until I am goofy, and then give myself a shot. That will be that. I have told all my doctors this, and they are helpless to do a thing about it. They may be able to take away my ability to control the pain they have left me with, but they are absolutely unable to control my ability to address the end of my life if I choose to no longer accept the state of being I am now left to deal with alone without pharmaceutical assistance. They might be able to take away pain medication, but being diabetic, they can’t take away the insulin. Believe it or not, this is comforting to me … to know that when it is to big for me to handle any longer, I have a way out that will be quick, relatively painless, and certain!

Later!

Just a little update

2006-05-01T21:48:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Today was kind of a good day ... I had company! Lately I don't get a lot of that, so whenever I do, I make the most of it. I put on a good face, try to be hospitable, remember that a sense of humor goes a long way, and try not to focus too much on what I am experiencing health-wise.

As I visited with my friends, I was reminded that there are others that are also experiencing difficulty in their life. It is comforting to know that I have survived to try and lend a hand to those around me that I care about. I guess life only loses "purpose" when we allow it to. As long as we continue to fight, we have a mission.

I am not as good as I once was about getting inside someone else's problem and finding an adequate solution. I am so busy concentrating on my problem I think, that the insight I once had is gone, or at least stifled. I wish that were not so, but honestly don't know how to redirect myself, and change direction right now. I guess I am where I am, and that is where I am supposed to be right now. To everything there is a purpose ... I just wish I knew for certain what the purpose was right now.

I never would have imagined this would have gone on this long. In my life, prior to cancer, I didn't understand pain fully. Oh, I had been in pain, but had no real understanding of it until this. Pain 24/7 for three years, and particularly since I went off morphine is something one has to experience to relate to. Not a day goes by I don't pray for relief .... patience is wearing thin, while I continue to hope that at some point, my life will be more tolerable.

Later.

Changed my mind

2006-04-18T08:50:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Sometimes I get very discouraged. At those times, my battle with the forces of evil is fierce and from all outward appearances, the forces of evil have the advantage. Having said that though, it always seems like just when all seems lost, reinforcements arrive and my wagons surround the campfire and the renegades are forced to retreat with their tails between their legs.

So you see my life is a lot like a poorly scripted movie and the only thing that saves the day is the cast of characters. Depending on the plot, my part would be played by Robert Redford (when it is romantic), John Travolta (when it is dramatic or thought provoking), Richard Gere (when I am in my sexy hey let's dance mode), Robin Williams (when the plot is insane, yet comical), or Nathan Lane (when I need to show my feminine side), or Jack Nicholson (when the plot requires me to have a pre-frontal lobotomy).

Sometimes I think my life would make a great movie. That sounds kind of narcissistic, but it really isn't. Everyone on the face of the planet (no matter how dull they appear to be) has an Oscar caliber movie script in them about their life. The problem is, we consider our existences mundane, boring, or otherwise unworthy of mention. Kind of sad really ... I would love to tell you my story. What is more, I would LOVE to hear yours ... and don't leave out the juicy parts, the nudity, the sex-scenes ... nothing! I want to know the whole you!

Later

This too is getting boring.

2006-04-08T10:34:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

I am used to blogging, having done so for about a year now on political blogs. They are a lot more dynamic than this one seems to be. So far, I have written quite a bit, with very few comments. Not to downgrade in anyway the comments I did get, as some were very nice and especially what I needed to hear. Thank you Kaycee!

When I started this, I was under the impression it would be like the blogs I was accustomed to. They are more like chat in that the debate/dialogue is ongoing, rapid fire, and very very intense. I had hoped that this would kind of take the place of email between all of us. It has not accomplished what I had hoped it would do, so I reluctantly am about ready to throw in the towel and take the blog off my site.

It is of little value to me if all I get out of it is the work of writing a blog entry and not getting a response or someone to answer it back to start up a dialogue. So, this probably will be the last entry folks. I will wait to see what happens over the next week, and then take the blog off my site if that is appropriate.

Later

Getting Older

2006-04-04T01:16:00.000-07:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Sort of funny in a sick/troublesome way. I remember what it was like to turn 10, and now almost 47 years have passed and to me at least, it seems like a very short time ago. I often wonder if it is just me, or does everyone seem to lose his or her lifetime in the twinkling of an eye?

My earliest recollection is when I was about three years old if you can believe that. And it isn't some vague and imagined remembrance either ... it is very vivid. I remember so many things from childhood, and now here I am trying to come to grips with the fact that I feel I have wasted my entire life foolishly.

I don't feel I have accomplished a thing of any substance. I don't know how I will answer to my actions (or perhaps more apropos "lack of action") when I am faced with reconciling my life in the great beyond. How will I answer the question "what have you done Michael, and why did you do that?" I honestly don't feel I have done anything important, and why I did some of the things I did, I have neither excuse nor idea! Something about my psyche apparently is askew!

I am so full of regret, God I just can't stand the idea that my life is winding down.... I have not even lived yet. SugarBooger and I were talking last night about life, and I swear I want to live another 200 years! I feel it will take me that long just to accomplish even the simplest important act. I get so angry when I see people my age with full productive lives, and here I am just struggling with getting through it one day at a time. I don't know how much longer I have because I feel so sick all the time, and that is frightening to me. It is little consolation that the doctors tell me my cancer is gone. I spent seven months trying to convince the medical profession that I wasn't a hypochondriac before I finally got a doctor to take a good look and discovered my cancer in the first place. It is difficult given the runaround I got for so long to believe them now that it is gone.

I am absolutely terrified that it will come back. Getting through the radiation and chemo, plus all the surgeries was something you would have to experience to understand. What makes me angriest about this whole thing is I tempted the fates and brought this on myself.

When I was a young man, there was a guy who used to come into the freight office on occasion to talk to the chief clerk. This man had had throat cancer, and I remember thinking to myself ... that is one thing I just couldn't stand to get, I would rather be dead. I know it is ridiculous, but every time I saw him, I thought those thoughts ... and as stupid as it is, I am angry because I think if I hadn't thought those things, this wouldn't have happened to me. It is an impossible situation to be in, because I can't change a thing about my life. I can't un-think those thoughts any more than I can undo my deeds.

But, I want to unthink them and so much of what I have done, I want to undo. Regret is a terrible thing when you are sick and think you are in the process of dying.

Later

Spring Forward

2006-04-02T00:17:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Tonight, tonight, won't be just any night ... tonight we'll lose an hour, somehow!

SugarBooger and I were discussing tonight whether we would rather have an extra hour of sleep, or an extra hour of sunlight.

An extra hour of sunlight seems like an impossibility to me. I think we would all agree that nature has predetermined the amount of sunlight on any given day based upon earths position (distance from the sun) its angle (tilt on its axis), and the specific location (longitude and latitude) where you reside. Therefore, the proposition that I will gain an hour of sunlight seems licuderous (ludicrous for those of you unfamiliar with Chopperisms) to me.

Therefore, if it is impossible for me to gain an extra hour of sunlight, I propose we leave the blasted clocks alone year around. We need to arrive at a standard acceptable to all, and leave it the hell alone.

I don't for the life of me understand how we got by all those years on "standard" time. To hear the proponents of this assinine system talk, you would think the very existance and survival of the planet depends on cranking the clocks back and forth twice a year. Poppycock I say, poppycock! (Now there is a word you won't hear used much anymore.)

Speaking of words, when I was a very young child, my nickname was Bimbo. To those of you under the age of 50, you won't remember the song, but it was a catchy little tune that went something like this:

"Bimbo, Bimbo where ya gonna goeoooooo, Bimbo, Bimbo does your mommy knoweoooooooo, Bimbo, Bimbo does your daddy know, that you're goin down the road to see your little girlieoooooooo."

I don't know how I got labeled Bimbo, but I must have reminded the adults of a little boy ambling down the sidewalk .... perhaps I was chasing girls at age 4 or something.

Anyway, the word sure has taken a turn for the worse wouldn't you agree? Bimbo now instead of referencing a happy go lucky little boy, describes a female of less than virtuous reputation. I like the ancient connotation better ... but, am glad I lost the nickname ... can't imagine being called Bimbo at age 56 even if it still had an okay connotation.

You will notice I used the word SugarBooger in the beginning of this journal entry. Well, this is thanks to my brother Gary. Today he and I were talking on the phone, and I don't recall exactly how it came up, but he said something about someone he knew having a secret nickname for his wife which was to be used to 'call her up to Heaven'. He then stated that he thought the nick was SugarBooger. Now that IS FUNNY said I, and pledged that even though I had been calling Barbara "toots", I was immediately going to start calling her SugarBooger as an affectionate nick.

So tonight, I did just that. I am not exactly convinced that she is all in favor of the change, but in time, I think she may adjust ... and well, if she doesn't ... oh well SugarBooger can get angry I guess, but it won't change anything. I am too delighted by the name, and it makes me feel good when I say it. So, thanks Gary .... I am so glad that every time I talk to you, I come away having learned something new, been given something new to use that brightened my day, or been cheered up in a way only you have been able to do throughout my life. You are a wonderful friend ... so thankful to have you as a brother.

Later dudes ... Oh Kelly and Toni .... you each brighten my day each time I talk to you too, and both also have marvelous intellect and senses of humor. Peace, Love, Dove y'all. War huh, what is it good for absolutely nothin' ... say it again y'all.

A Dark Side

2006-03-30T21:57:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Have you ever considered the world as it really is, and your place in it? Sometimes we forget just how fragile this all is and how fragile we really are.

Tonight I am really inside myself; something is going on very deep within that I can’t explain. I only know for certain that it is good for me even though it is making me a little uncomfortable. I am currently battling a serious depression, fighting constant pain, and dealing with a lack of adequate sleep … so this additional burden is unwelcome.

Even though I have at various times in my life contemplated ending it all, I sincerely do not understand the violence of suicide. Life is so damn precious … I learned that the hard way, trust me … when you are struggling for breath and having difficulty just breathing, life all comes in focus, and you fight its desire to escape from you.

I don’t believe that "Life" is the natural state of things in the universe. I believe the natural state of matter is to be unconfined. Therefore, one way to define life is that it is the confinement of matter in an unnatural state. If we accept that all matter is made up of atoms, then we must accept that we are truly miraculous abnormalities.

With the passage of time … all things end! All things, including life. One day, the Earth will be a cold, dark and dead place … and that will be a return to natural order. So death for us is a return to the natural order of things also. I wish I could come to grips with the idea that dying would be nature’s way of freeing me from an unnatural state.

Why is it that we cling so passionately to those things that want to rid themselves of us the most? This is the paradox of my life, and the part of my being that has been the most troubling to me. The less people in my life wanted me, the more I wanted to please them. This is an abomination, a curse if you will upon my right to be free of torment. I never have understood that part of ME! When I analyze it through the prism of my experience of fighting cancer, however it begins to make a little more sense to me. Life doesn’t want us either, it truly wants to escape the confinement of our physical being and return to the natural state of randomness.

Perhaps tomorrow I will be less morbid.

Later!

I might as well tell another skunk story.

2006-03-29T21:34:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic
My dad is one of the most softhearted men you would ever want to meet when it comes to animals. He would never, ever launch a cat, or intentionally go into attack mode against an unwitting/unwilling skunk. As a matter of fact, he is the Johnny Appleseed if you will of distraught and disabled animals of any persuasion. I have numerous stories to tell revolving around animals in our home while I was growing up. This one is about our PET skunk.
My dad worked for nearly 40 years at compressor stations pumping natural gas out of the gasfields of Montana. He worked shift work rotating from days, to midnight’s, to afternoons, and his duties varied depending upon the shift he was working that week. Regardless of shift however, a primary duty was to take hourly readings on the compressors and gas lines to insure that everything was working safely and properly. Most of the meters were inside the plant, however a few were on the outside by necessity. One midnight shift while he was making his mandatory rounds taking the readings, once he stepped outside of the main plant to read the meters outside the plant, he noticed a crow pecking at something under one of the lights outside the external meter house. It kind of raised his curiosity, and upon closer inspection, he discovered the crow was pecking at a baby (very small) skunk. Not wishing to see this happen, he chased the crow off, rescued the skunk, took it into the plant and put it into a box next to the compressors to keep it warm, and brought it home to nurse back to health when he got off work. So began a great adventure!
My mother was somewhat concerned about this particular decision of my fathers, however, who in their right mind can not fall in love with a baby skunk ... so it wasn't long until moms objections melted into a series of oh my Larry, he is cute, Ok you can keep him. Of course, us boys were as excited as could be. I suppose you could say this skunk held about the same level of appeal to us boys as a new XBox would to boys today.
Due to the misdeeds of the attack crow, the skunk had one eye pecked out, and seriously needed the attention and affection of my dad who saw himself as a home-schooled veterinarian. We cared for that skunk as though it were a puppy .. taking time to bottle-feed it a drop at a time off the tip of our finger, and gradually the skunk recovered his health, and began to grow.

Now domesticated skunks make wonderful pets, they are somewhat like cats, only less offensive, less arrogant, and more affectionate by far. Us boys loved that skunk ... I used to love to lay on the floor and watch television and play with the skunk. He would tease you, jump in the middle of your chest, kind of paw on your chest to let you know he was there, then turn very fast, lift his tail and give you the skunk equivalent of a high five just for fun.
My dad never had the heart to have the skunk de-scented, so once he was fully grown, he could have at any moment let us have it for real ... fortunately he never did, even though he pretended to often. I honestly believe that even though the instinct was there, he hadn't been taught by his mother to spray ... yet he knew there was something he was capable of doing but just wasn't quite sure how to do it ... yet. In spite of this lack of the specific knowledge, he still exhibited the defensive posturing of skunkdom, raising his tail at every opportunity while aiming his butt at the object of his teasing. There in lay the problem!

One day, I was home from school sick with a terrible cold. My mom wouldn't often let us out of our rooms when we stayed home from school, but for some reason this particular day, she had pity on me and I was laying on the couch watching television. Suddenly, there was a knock on our front door, a signal to our skunk to come running. Without thinking, I just said come-in, and the man threw open the front door only to be confronted by a full grown skunk, tail raised, and poised to strike at the slightest provocation. At least, that was his take on the situation I am sure. Now, in my heart of hearts, I am certain our skunk would not have let him have it ... he was just being friendly ya know. But, Steve Urs (the man at the door) did not see it that way. God y’all, it was sooooooo funny, the man was petrified. He was so still you could have sworn that time stopped, and he was whiter than Casper the Ghost the blood having instantly and I do mean instantly drained from his upper extremities.

I would imagine Steve was VERY relieved when my mom came in and shooshed the skunk away rescuing him from what he viewed as a fate approaching death no doubt. Later that evening (once my dad came home from work) my mom convinced my dad that eventually, the skunk would make a mistake, and gave him an ultimatum ... either have the skunks scent glands removed, or turn him loose. My dad, being a consummate naturalist and soft hearted to boot ... decided it was in the skunks best interests to be returned to the wild, and so the following day ... the skunk went back out to the plant and returned to the place of his birth.

You know, as an added bit of information that I sincerely hope you consider carefully. Even though my dog Shatzie had previously suffered grievously at the hands of a skunk, he still got along famously with our pet skunk. The two of them would lay side by side next to one of us boys as though they too were brothers. Wouldn't it be wonderful if human beings could show the same character as these two animals and accept each other with no regard to past hurts, and in spite of their external (visible) differences. I for one, pray for the day when the skunks and the wiener dogs of the human species can gather together in friendship with no regard at all to their differences.

Later y’all ... may you never have a skunk raise his tail in your face in anger, but if one does, freeze, hold your breath and repeat after me "SWIZZLE DRIZZLE DRAZZLE DRONE, TIME FOR ZISS SKUNK TO GO HOME!"

The Process

2006-03-28T02:46:00.000-08:00

Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic
God has a sense of humor! Anyone who doubts that need only to look at me, and you won't need a microscope to see what I am talking about. I was blessed with strong ambition, surly disposition, obnoxious behavioral characteristics in general, and specifically the willingness to get in anyone's face at any time over anything! The humor comes in when you consider that God also gave me the privilege of being the latest bloomer as far as stature goes on the face of the planet.

The consequence of my lionheart attitude and my diminutive stature was that I got my ass kicked a lot growing up. It became a challenge to me after a while to just keep after it thinking all the while that eventually, the tide would turn. It did not do that while I was still in my "hey let's rumble" phase. By the time my body had matured to the point where I was bigger than most of the kids in my class, my disposition had also changed. I had grown up just a little emotionally too, and no longer saw the need to try and wipe the floors with my peers. I had become sensible, sort of!

I mentioned before about inheriting the obnoxious gene from my dad. Well, I did in a big way! In that regard, I will be eternally six years old I think. I love to argue .... I think I might just have made a good lawyer for that reason, but then again, maybe not as I genuinely don't believe I could develop the abundance of character flaws attorneys all seem to have.

I have much to my chagrin managed to seriously piss off, offend, or alienate every one of my friends at one time or another, and regarding my family, I sincerely don't know how they tolerated my antics throughout their lifetime. I must have some redeeming quality though, because I know without a shadow of a doubt that I am loved by all my family members, and my true friends have always found it in their hearts to forgive my transgressions. I am a very lucky man in that regard!

Now, there are those who presently are most likely pissed off at me. All I can say is that whatever I said, did, did not do, or neglected to notice was unintentional, and my truest nature is that I don't want to hurt or offend anyone. I am just incapable of better behavior because I am predisposed to be an idiot at times.

Now, I want to say a few things about my dad. What a tremendous gift he was to us all in spite of his faults. My dad had a really rough childhood, but made certain that his children did not! He instilled in each of us love of country, pride in ourselves, and the courage and will to be honorable adults. I wish he knew how much his guidance and friendship meant to me. His generosity of spirit, time, and resources have literally kept me alive at various times in my life, and the truth of the matter is, he only failed me one time. One time, and that is a damn good record for any father.

The last time I saw dad, I thanked him for being the man he is. And, I meant every word I said. I wish I would have been the father he was, but I have failed my children in so many ways, I don't know how they can stand me at all.

There isn't much I can say about life that is any more true that this, at least in my case. Life itself will wipe the floor with you if you let it. I thank God I learned to pick myself up, dust myself off, and come out swinging again at an early age. Being willing to take your blows is part and parcel of being a whole person, and having the gumption, determination, and grit to fight the good fight is essential if you want to be an honorable person. My dad taught me that ... his obnoxious gene served us all well. Isn't it a wonderful world God has given us. He knew just who I needed as a father and mother, and dropped me right in the middle of exactly what I needed.

Everything about our lives is a part of a larger vision, a purpose, and a grand process is involved. Once you realize that whatever your circumstance is, it is a part of the process that God has chosen for your betterment, the quicker you will be able to handle whatever that circumstance is. And that my friends, is why I can go on in spite of the circumstance I find myself in. It isn't a pleasant circumstance, but I am counting on my belief that God doesn't make mistakes, so the situation I find myself in is one small piece of God's perfection.

This attitude (and my own obnoxious character) has gotten me a long way.

Life is Good!

Later

Let's talk about Idiots

2006-03-24T10:56:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

South of the Mason Dixon, gumbo is a good thing! Eastern Montana, gumbo is a curse. The road to our country abode was treacherous due to about eight miles of unpaved, ungravelled gumbo. We lived 36 miles from the nearest town about a fourth of a mile from the North Dakota line in the badlands of Eastern Montana. I went to a country school with an enrollment of 13 all in one room covering all eight grades. Some might consider this a disadvantage ... it certainly was not! Those of us in the lower grades had the pleasure of listening to the lessons taught to the upper grades which gave us a step up in our analytical skills. We also were given refreshers when we listened to lessons being taught to lower grades. In short, we were thinking advanced thoughts well before we would have been in another type of educational setting.

The disadvantage of living out in the sticks like that was that we didn't get to town much ... I would guess about 7 or 8 times a year. We knew nothing, and I do mean nothing about such things as Bubbleicious Bubble Gum or Baby Ruth candy bars, let alone the joys of drinking Cokes on a hot day. We never went to movies, did not have television, and the only entertainment venue we enjoyed was our mothers constant reading us stories or listening to the radio!

The truth of the matter is though, we didn't know anything else, and we were immensely happy! My bothers and I learned early on about the perils of the badlands, which snakes to avoid, etc., and we had the run of the countryside for as far as the eye could see. We made our own great adventures, often to the consternation of our mother.

I remember once the three of us on a great expedition with our dog Shatzie were fortunate enough to come upon an adult skunk with a convenient culvert very nearby to trap it in. One of us got on one end of the culvert, while the other two lollygagged at the other end all the while encouraging our dog to run the skunk into the culvert. What a joy it is at that age to trap a skunk with nothing more than your wit and a dog willing to do your bidding. I think the sheer excitement and anticipation of the hunt ... plus a little adrenaline ... totally eliminated our ability to smell the consequence of our action, and at least temporarily, rendered us insane.

Years later, my mother telling the story would relate how she smelled us as we returned home. The closer we got, the stronger the smell got, and she would tell how she prayed "please Lord, don't let that be the boys .... please!" Unfortunately, it was the boys ... goodness, what a scrubbing we got ... all to no avail. I think in spite of all the remedies you hear about eliminating a skunks scent, the only true and reliable one is the passage of time.

It is a good thing that God gave us the ability to NOT smell something after our body has become accustomed to it, as it most likely took a week or two for us three to stop smelling, but I don't remember that part of it at all. The part I do remember is the joy of successfully coaching my dog into attack mode, getting the skunk in the culvert, and then watching the dog annihilate the beast. I think the dog was less excited about the whole prospect than I was, as he came out of the culvert kind of foaming at the mouth from getting a direct shot right in the face. Good Dog!!!!!!!!

Later!

I had little redeeming value as a child.

2006-03-24T00:44:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

I was a country kid until the end of my 4th grade year. Living as we did, I learned nothing about real interactions with groups of boys my age, but this certainly did not detract from the value and quality of my upbringing. My brothers and I, and particularly my brother Kelly bided our time doing what energetic, rambunctious boys do ... getting into every mischief possible barely escaping the perilous consequences that could have, and often should have, ensued.

We didn't get into town much, and although I don't recall feeling as though we were deprived, we really didn't have much. What we did have was an enormous amount of imagination and energy. Separate, imagination is good, energy is good ... in young children, well let's just say the combination can have almost pernicious results. Often, I am amazed my parents, and in particular, my mother was able to tolerate the consequences of her urge to merge with my dad. It is astonishing that humans once blessed (?) with one child will foolishly repeat the mistake a second time. The more children they have, the more one needs to question what the heck they were thinking about.

My sister Toni was born in August, which means she was conceived in November. November is a cold month in Montana, so I guess it all began with cuddling for body warmth and being ignorant of the long term implication, they allowed the cuddling to get out of hand. I on the other hand, was born in June ... conception in September. Hummmm, too early for cuddling for warmth, so I believe it was related to one of two things ... my mom and dads wedding anniversary on Sept 1, or my mothers birthday on September 29. I guess they were young, Toni was too tiny to have created much of a problem yet, so again, things got out of hand. Kelly and Gary were born in October and November, so my parents were absolutely freezing to death in January and February, and we could also take into consideration New Years Day and Valentines Day I suppose ... but still, by then, they should have known better!

I got a little off track there, but the point is that I simply do not understand how my mother survived raising three boni fide tyrants as sons. We all put our mother through pure hell in our own depraved way. I wish I had apologized to her, but knowing my mom, she would have just given it a hearty laugh and got up and filled my coffee cup with the best coffee I have ever had in my life. I think about that from time to time ... my moms coffee ... better than Starbucks by far. There is none to compare to hers, I wish I knew what her secret was ... I have tried every combination I can think of, and in 56 years have not even come close! The closest coffee I have tasted to my moms was in a little coffee emporium in Superior Wisconsin. In a small strip mall next to Lake Superior there is a place that sells a Heart Attack in a Cup. If you ever are in Superior, find this place, get a cup, sugar it up good, and it comes pretty close to my mothers coffee. There is one word of caution though, do not do as I did and drink two of these ... my god, I thought I was going to die. I could literally feel my heart pumping wildly all the way to my feet, and my chest felt like Jesse Ventura was jumping up and down on it. Don't think I slept well for a couple of days following that either.

Rambling ... can't seem to get it together. I wanted to tell about my adventures in the gumbo of eastern Montana, but I guess that will wait 'till next time.

Later dudes and dudette's ... be well!

Launching a Cat

2006-03-22T23:34:00.000-08:00

Where should I go from my last post. Let me see, do I want to talk about childhood per se, or adolescence? Both periods of my life are worthy of your attention. I guess I will go with childhood, we can always talk about being a teenager later.

I launched a cat! Oh my, what a tyrant I was ... onery to a fault when it came to felines. Never did like cats ... I think they know something about little boys that they shouldn't know. Cats just look at you with an in your face type look. Dogs trust you, cats ... well, not so much. Probably a good thing. It was in my particular case.

My mom and dad didn't leave me alone too much. I was raised by parents who were very aware of the possibilities posed by raising three wild and wooly sons and one attentive, obedient daughter. Being the oldest son, I had the distinct responsibility of breaking new ground. This was such an occasion.

My sister loved cats. Where she got this particular tabby is beyond me, but for some odd reason, I resented sharing my space with that cat. I guess I was about 12 or 13, mischevous to a fault, and full of myself. Always up for an adventure, I took this opportunity to heart. My folks were gone, my brothers and sister were nowhere to be seen, and I found myself alone with MY dog, and my sisters CAT!

Remember those little plastic soldiers you used to purchase at Woolworths or the 5 and 10 Cent stores that came equipped with little parachutes? I got the bright idea that I could incorporate this idea into an adventure involving me, a piece of visqueen (sp), some lengths of fishing line, a chunk off one of my dads belts, and the CAT.

I spent what seemed at the time to be an eternity constructing the parachute. In actuality, it probably took all of about 10 minutes, but to a 12 year old boy anticipating a great adventure such as this, 10 minutes seems well, like an hour or so. Anyway, to cut to the chase, I constructed what I believed to be a suitable parachute for the cat. Made a harness out of a piece of belt, and began being nice to the cat. Here Kitty Kitty, here girl, pssssssssssssssssssssssssst!

Dumb cat! Took her, the flying apparatus, and my onery self upstairs. Our bathroom had the only window in the house that had neither a screen or storm window. Did my best parachute rigging crumpling the plastic making certain the lines would not get tangled up, strapped the cat in with my improvised belt harness, threw the window open, took a deep breath, and gave the cat a toss out the window.

I will go to my grave remembering the look on that cats face. It can only be described as one of utter disbelief. More apt perhaps (were the cat able to speak), she would have exclaimed emphatically, "Are you (expletive deleted) crazy?" The only honest response I can give now that I am older and wiser, is YES, I probably was just a tad touched, and not by an angel if you get my drift.

The chute opened perfectly with an audible pop as the plastic grabbed the air. My engineering skills were not quite on par with those in airfoil design however. In particular, my harness skills were shall we say wanting. Poor cat was falling at a rapid rate more or less head first towards terra firma. I can tell you from personal experience (this one) that cats do not, in fact, always land on all fours! Neither are they, at least in instances such as this one, taught to tuck a shoulder and roll upon impact.

The cat (following a period of reflection and collection of wits) took off lickety split across the football field directly across the street from my house dragging the parachute, fishing line rigging, and dads belt harness with her. Didn't see her for a few days, but when she returned it was sans flying apparatus (or is it apparati?)!

She gave me a wide birth from that day on. If I was in the room, she made it a point to always remain at least an arms length away, and if conditions permitted, much further than that. Pity really. I had analysed my failure with the harness, had made mental modifications to same, and was fully prepared to attempt a second launch.

Now, cats all try to get me to love them. I am convinced that she told every cat for miles around of this particular penchant of mine. They in turn told their kittens, their kittens told their offsping, and well, I think every cat at least in North America knows my name. In conclusion, in the cat world, I have become a legend. Most likely, even following my death the story will go on, and cats everywhere will tell of the mean spirited 12 year old that loved to launch cats.

Later!

Can't sleep

2006-03-22T01:20:00.000-08:00

Well, as you can see by the hour, I am spending another sleepless night. Thank god for the internet, however, Midco went down at midnight, and was out until 3am ... So I sat here and watched the History Channel.

You know, I remember as a kid we had two reliable channels, and one not so reliable channel on television and we always managed to find something to watch. Now I have lord knows how many channels, I get everything I can get except for Showtime, and can't seem to find anything at all to watch. It used to be that HBO would always have something, and that was when there was only one HBO. I now get 8 HBO channels, and I think the same number of Cinemax channels, and there is nothing, and I do mean nothing to interest me. For the most part, the movies these cretins are showing were on HBO 15 years ago. It is almost too much, but such is the nature of the world of business I guess ... screw the public at every opportunity. I swear on all that is holy that were it not for Bill Maher on HBO, I would disconnect HBO and Cinemax entirely. As it is, I don't remember the last time I watched anything on Cinemax ... what I keep them on for is beyond me. Sometimes I think I am just too lazy to call and have it disconnected.

You know, looking back ... it sure was a simpler time when I was growing up. I mean we were content with Petticoat Junction, The Flintstones, My Favorite Martian, Mr. Ed, and Car54 Where are You. OH, and I shouldn't forget I Love Lucy, Leave it to Beaver, Father Knows Best, and Huckelberry Hound. Yes, those were the days ... even my dad looked forward to the cartoon shows ... I don't think he ever missed The Flintstones when he wasn't working.

Then, we were in the midst of the cold war ... remember that? When we faced nuclear annihilation at any moment ... the duck and cover days of grade school. I remember following the Cuban Missile Crisis the railroad station agent (I think his name was Doty) built himself a bomb shelter outside his home ... seriously. Here we were, living in the middle of nowhere ... a town of about 500 people, and we had someone who took the threat seriously enough to build a bomb shelter. Now what kind of delusional thinking would lead someone to think that the Russians would waste a strike on Saco Montana? But ... quite a few Saco people were just a tad off. I remember my high-school English teacher (Mrs. Conlin) stating in class one time that if it weren't for the mosquitoes Saco's population would be at least as big as Billings. Now, I wonder, what pray tell would bring industry and scores of people to little old Saco Montana with or without mosquitoes?

This is not to deride the experience of growing up in Saco. What a wonderful childhood I had. Aside from the fact that I was the runt of the class at every age, absolutely bereft of any athletic ability (I still walk like a drunk due to a lifelong lack of coordination), I got by. I learned at an early age to use humor and wit as a sword ... that was my power. Plus, I was born obnoxious ... I got that gene from my dad. So, even though I was never included in a real sense in the athletic activity of my peers, I got by because I was a clown and could make them laugh. Plus, I think I was always willing to be the first to take a risk, and the bravery helped even though I was a runt my chutzpah went a long way towards establishing myself at least in the middle of the pecking order most of the time ... and once in a while, very near the top.

When it came to girls .. now there is a story, a book in fact were I to write it. I was the kid every father and mother in America dreaded. I was wild as all get out, and had fast hands, hot pants, and the guts to make the big move. I was used to getting bopped by the males my age, so what was a little slap from the females I thought? Women ... God, I would go through my whole life again just to experience the joy ... oh you get the picture, no need to verbalize it. But boy howdy, does I likes the grils! Always have, always will ... I intend on being one of those old men dying in a hospital bed still hitting on the nurses, or perhaps, even sneaking a quick squeeze. Again, what is there to loose ... my motivation to be good would be WHAT? I figure God gave me these tools, and He intended for me to use them. Just carrying a hammer around does not make you a good carpenter fellas, ya gots ta pound some nails! I likes poundin nails!

Well more later I'm sure ... can't give everything up in one little journal.

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

2006-03-21T10:48:00.000-08:00

A Montana Reject and Proud Raving Lunatic

Not much new to report today. Feeling OK, not great, just OK. Kind of feeling like a fool. Sometimes I think I am crazy. I am bored with this life ... I need to find something, anything to give me purpose ... a reason to get up in the morning. I can't get over how I used to think being retired would be so great. Now, all I think about is wanting to go back to work. I miss the challenge, the structure, the interaction with people. I wish I could get my act back together, constantly looking for something to stimulate me is causing me to be a little depressed. I realize that being housebound is partially to blame ... golly do I want spring to get here, just to be able to go outside without the cold causing me to get sick will go a long way towards helping me in the mental outlook area.

Well, will close for now. Later!

First Post ... Short Biography

2006-03-21T00:18:00.000-08:00

First, I would like to ask all of you to please visit my website ... it will help you to get to know me a little better, and that would create an atmosphere for further debate, discussion, whatever.

It is:

http://www.webegeek.net

As you can see, I am a Tom Selleck look alike, but I haven't let my incredible good looks go to my head, even though I often wonder how you women can keep your hands off me.

I don't know, what I would like to accomplish with this blog is a place for family and friends in particular to get together and chat once in a while, instead of using email which seems to be inferior to this medium.

I guess there aren't any topics that would be off limits. I will discuss just about anything, and may write about anything from time to time. I am very political, so be forewarned that from time to time, I may go off on a rant. Things in this country have really pissed me off lately, and I never was one to hold my tongue ... it is one of my faults I know, but oh well.