I forgot…almost

I’m getting good at forgetting. Some days I have to try really hard and it comes or rather they go easily away into the ether. They are the memories of which I speak… those hard to forget good times that tug and pull until you can’t help but remember; sadly, those are exactly what I would choose to forget.

This year was easier than most until I remembered and then, as always, it all fell apart. The absence. There were several days where the feeling that something was amiss stood out like the need to brush your teeth after an all night drinking and cigar binge, yet I was successfully able to defeat my subconscious. Hyperbole and overestimation maybe, but at least it felt like it all came apart. Deep down I prayed that my will to forget would overshadow the need to remember, to cope and to heal… at least for one more day, month, year.

The malaise that gripped me began to tighten without my knowledge. People outside of myself saw, yet diligently I tried to forget. Until today when she helped me remember and release the pent up flood of emotion that left me weeping at the thoughts that soften the truth that cannot be softened.  So I go on forgetting the good with the bad and maybe next year I will win the right to forget.

Damn, I really need to write something funny…

My Brute Iphone App

Add me or my wife on the IPHONE App:

DBEFIAFE -Revenge Amok

BAAEAIFE – Static Wind

Why am I…

Even watching Bee Movie. Wow Seinfeld really screwed the pooch on this one. It’s just a bad movie.

Oh and I finally figured why I didn’t keep up with my posting. I hated the look of my blog. I’ve made some changes, and we’ll see if I hang around to keep this little piece of internet updated.

Update

I haven’t kept up with the internet version of my life nearly as well as I should and I hope to rectify that asap. The reason is a little regression on my part. I’ve also pulled back from my ‘real’ life a bit and the rumors as to why have been flying. Funny enough there was only one person who figured out what was making me pull back from everyone. Most people *you are not most people Baby K* were so self-involved that they assumed everything I did was in response to them. The truth is… I miss my sister and I’ve been in a funk since before my birthday and through the anniversary of her death. Her birthday comes at the end of January and it feels like I can’t get away from a day that reminds me that I’m my mother’s only child. It’s been rough, but we all have our own crosses to bear and mine are no heavier than yours.

While I was out, there have been big changes. Baby K and I are better than ever. She’s out of town right now, but I can’t wait for her to get back. I’ve moved back up north and the K and I are co-habitating *I think that’s what the hippies call it*. Oh and I sustained the first big injury of my life during softball. I will post pics later, but it was nasty. I owe Baby K a whole lot for taking care of me for two weeks straight without one complaint *although she could have let me take more vicodin when I wanted it… damn four hours between dosages… lol*.

That’s about all for now. I wrote some stuff and I will see about sanatizing it for posting.

Peafe Nation

The Catalyst

Alternate Title:

There’s No Crying In Slow Pitch

So I’ve been holding onto this story for a while. I need to get back into the mood for softball after a bye week, so here goes.

As most stories with me begin I was drinking….a lot. That’s my general pre-game routine for softball. Mostly I try to stay around 4-5 16oz. degrading curls of Bud Light about an hour before game time. This puts me into the right mindset of talk a lot of junk and have a great time guy.

On the evening in question, the game was tied at the bottom of the third inning with two outs. Now sometimes during the game, when I’m playing catcher, I like to setup outside and then move inside mid-pitch…you know, to throw off the batters. Well it just so happened during my move, the guy pops it up. That’s when I spring my drunk ass into action and deliver a web gem to end the inning. In my head the crowd was cheering…or maybe my ears were just ringing. So I caught a foul ball that was about 3/4ths of the way down the 3rd base line to end the inning.

So here is where the real story begins. One of the things I love about baseball/softball is the momentum that is gained when a player makes a nice defensive play and then comes back to lead off the inning. Well I was up to bat with the score tied 4 all. I dug into the batter’s box ready to unleash some sort of herculean feat upon the other team. The first pitch was inside; “He’s trying to brush me back.”, I thought. *remember folks…I’m drunk* I take the next pitch for a ball. The count was 3 and 1 and I was looking for my pitch and then, *wham*, I hit a rope down the third base line that the 3rd baseman fields cleanly.

Now this part of the story is a bit hazy for me as I don’t remember it. From what Dibs tells me I was moving quite quickly towards first base, but at some point I lose my footing. The next thing I remember is I’m tumbling down first base in foul territory. Lying prostrate on the ground, I hear “blue” call me safe and this is where my memory kicks back in… I see the ball banging around in front of the home team’s dugout and immediately my mind turns to taking 2nd base. As fast as I can muster, I scrambled to my feet with only the thought of taking a base on the errant throw to first.

Noooooo!!!!!!

“Who is that?” I thought and “Who are they talking to?” “Wait, is that my whole team and most of our fans telling me to stop and go back?” “Screw ‘em”, I thought, “I’m taking 2nd.” So there I was, barreling towards that poor little second baseman with my whole team, all of our friends and family and possibly my girlfriend (she still doesn’t look me in the eye when I ask if she was for or against my endeavor) telling me to stop. The only thought in my head was to take 2nd base, “BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY”. Now I’m not going to say I slid in with my cleats up, but allz I know is that the second baseman was nowhere to be seen when I went for my slide. I was safe…and everyone was ROLLING in the bleachers laughing their collective butts off at what they just witnessed! Looking down I noticed that my knee was bleeding and my ribs were aching; but I was safe, on second, with no outs. Life was good.

Two batters later I scored on a sacrifice fly. We didn’t let the other team score another run and went on to win 7 – 4. I’d like to think the sacrifice of my body and effort I put into my at bat led us to victory. I was a gamer, I lit the spark, I *insert dramatic pause here* was the CATALYST…

Or maybe I was just a drunk guy who takes slow pitch softball just a little bit too seriously.

Peafe Nation

Non-Sequitur

I have these great Silencio Magnum noise canceling hearing protectors that I “liberated” from this crazy guy’s (Crazy Bob we called him) desk after he left the company. I didn’t get any of the good pens that he had been hoarding or the girl he had tied up under the desk, just the crappy headphones as everyone else had gotten to all of the good stuff before I knew he had left.

Well fast forward to a year and a half later and it seems I have a need for my Silencio Magnums…my officemate. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I hate him, he’s just loud. Very. Also he just quit smoking so now he chews his nicorette all day…..with his MOUTH OPEN!!! It’s like a cow. Now I’m not one tell someone about their personal habits because nobody ever takes that well and I prefer not to hate coming to work, so I figure that I’ll just insert the Silencio Magnums into the equation and solve my dilemma.

So I whip them out and insert my earphones into the Silencio Magnums so I can listen to 1300 the Zone streaming on my computer. Everything is going well until Jim Rome comes on. Jim Rome isn’t streamed so I had nothing to listen to. Through the quiet all I could hear was a faint heartbeat. I figured it was my heartbeat that I was hearing…until it stopped.

The following questions need to be answered…

Was Crazy Bob really crazy?
If so, did the Silencio Magnums drive ol’ Bob to insanity?
Are the Silencio Magnum headphones haunted?
If so, am I in danger of going crazy?
Will it be a short trip?
Is this kinda like when Homer got Snake’s hair in a transplant during a Treehouse of Horror episode?
Would crazy be worse than listening to someone chew gum with their mouth open ALL DAY?

Jumpee to the rescue

What follows is a Jumpee that I wrote for Snippy… Enjoy!!!

Somebody has to save this blog and it might as well be me. This is the story of how yours truly managed to dye his hair red…BY ACCIDENT!!!

So there I was, eleven years old and sporting a high-top fade; don’t blame me, that was just the style of the time. As per usual, I was running late for the bus. Now riding the same bus my whole life with my bus driver Mr. Sealy was always hilarious. He had driven my older sister to school and had known me all my life. He was a good ol’ country boy and the shop teacher. There was the rumor that he only had one testicle as the result of being gored by bull during a rodeo event. Oh and everyday (and this will explain A LOT TO A LOT OF PEOPLE) and I do mean everyday, he would blare Slippery When Wet on his radio. Now this description of Mr. Sealy holds no bearing on the story of my red hair, but who doesn’t like hearing about a one testicled bull riding Jon Bon Jovi singing school bus driver.

Now on to me and my being late for the bus. You see, I was always a pretty boy. Already late, I didn’t have that much time to fix my hair. I had a high-top fade and it wasn’t appropriately coiffed and action needed to be taken. By this time my sister had moved out so I couldn’t steal any of her hair products, so I darted into my moms bathroom. I grabbed the first bottle that looked like it would be of some use to me. Spritzing and darting out the house in a mad dash to get my morning JBJ fix… ’scuse me for a second’

* (furiously playing air guitar)
Shot through the heart
And you’re to blame
You give love a bad name
I play my part and you play your game
You give love a bad name
You give love a bad name*

Sorry just had to get that out of my system. Back on topic:

Spritzing and darting out the house in a mad dash to catch the bus, I gave little to no thought about my hair and what I was putting in it. I was sure that it would suffice until gym class and then I would have to redo it anyway.

Arriving at school, I go to hang out with some of my friends before homeroom. There was a bully that didn’t give me so much trouble because he knew my cousins would crush him, but he always tried to have something smart to say. So when he made a flippant comment about my hair looking like I had dipped it in kool-aid, I thought nothing of it. However, when my friend Justin informed me that, indeed, there was something a bit more colorful going on with my “do”, I thought I may need to check it out.

I sprinted to the nearest bathroom and found a mirror followed by my crew, who at this point were laughing and calling me “Malcolm”. Upon gazing at my emblazoned visage in the mirror, it was unmistakable; somehow, I had turned my hair red. Shocked and awed more than some country that’s pissed off President Bush, I quickly went into spin control. Knowing that not liking it myself would have only lent myself to more ridicule, I had to embrace the change in my appearance. I was now “Red” just as Malcolm X was before. LOL

That was a long day, but I still had no idea what had happened. I tore through the front door and called my mom at work. “Momma… I turned my hair red.” All she did was laugh. That’s my momma for you. LOL So she asked what I put in my hair. Describing the bottle that I grabbed from her counter that didn’t really have a label, I was informed that I had grabbed this:

*editors note: The original bottle did not look like this. I would have known better to grab something pink. The bottle I grabbed was white with a rubbed off white label. LOL*

When it was all said and done, it was great for my persona. I worked the whole red hair thing and continued to use Sun In for several years. Finally around the age of 14 I discontinued use and went back to my natural color. Six years later I began to shave my hair completely. So that’s the story of one man’s bout with hair coloring. Hope you enjoyed. Now back to your regularly schedule programing.

Private Parts

The stains

combine

leave behind

reminders

find

found

reveal and confound

in simple times

stealing your heart

was a plausible crime

not of passion

but of design

double crossed

by the ego engrossed

letting go

while holding close

finding solace

making the choice

rather the day came

when there was no choice

still waiting

for the slow and steady pace

to make me fall prey

to losing the race

not this time

no finish this time

keep in rhythm

quit looking for the rhyme

hearts they beat

finding synchrony

holding hands in time

the beat is mine

this last time

the beat is mine

Day 0: Redux

Today, I met with the Talker for the last time. It was not unexpected and something that I had been looking forward to for the last several visits. She and I had begun to discuss whether or not I still needed to come talk to her. It became evident over the last few visits that I had, indeed, developed the tools necessary to be happy and not allow my past to overshadow my future. The Talker said that she was extremely impressed with how I had managed to traverse this undeniably herculean endeavor of dealing with and putting my past behind me this quickly.  I made some remark about how I couldn’t have done it without the amazing infrastructure of friends that I have at my disposal and being given the tools to trust them to help me move forward.  They know who they are.

There had always been the concern that what I was experiencing was rooted in false emotions, but I put those fears behind me. I’m happy. Really really happy. It has nothing to do with what anyone else has contributed to my life; but with what I, over the last five months, have chosen to give back to my life. The trust that I lost so long ago and figured I’d never have again. I’m not as cocky to believe that I don’t have anything else left to work on or that the accomplishments I’ve made do not need constant vigil. I’m secure knowing that whatever I am confronted with, I will make decisions not based on the fears of my past; but on the possibilities of my future.

Peafe Nation

Cleaning Out My Closet

These are things that I wrote a long time ago…with a little commentary. I needed to clean off my desktop and I found these. I’m glad I opened that folder before I deleted it. Enjoy…or don’t. I like some of it… most of it is crap though. LOL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The agony of an instant
is all that I feel
I’m a friend to grief
and our friendship builds
the man I that am
the one I should be
cry out in pain
for grief to set me free
alone in my bed
the same as I was
time stands still
the way time never does
now is the day after
it seems all clear
I face my fate alone
I will show it no fear

(After a break-up a long time ago)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, this hurts and it stings
And it just seems to bring
Back the question I never thought I’d ever ask.

I’m so strong when I feel
Even your lie seemed so real
But your trust I never thought you’d ever mask.

It’s been years since the end
Your love wrapped in sin
Now why is my question of our past.

I’ve decided I know why
Neither would say goodbye
Even when we both knew we’d never last.

Then came that day
Your love slipped away
Through my fingers like sand in my grasp.

The lie that you shared
Was more than I could bear
The pain I’m sure won’t be surpassed.

(After I found out my first serious girlfriend cheated. I found out four years after we broke up. It’s all funny to me now.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a moment, there’s always a moment

He looked you in the eye,
held his breathe and said goodbye

I said, he looked you in the eye,
held his breathe and said he lied

I said, he looked you in the eye,
held his breath and said he tried

I said, there’s always a moment…
When you can’t cry hard enough to make him turn around

(I wrote this one for a friend when she couldn’t get over why her boyfriend broke up with her.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always only
heard what you
wanted to
And I could never
say what you
wanted me to
So I don’t know
how you hear
what you do
Just realize this
last time we’re
finally through
And that next time
I can’t be there
for you.

(This was one I wrote a while ago when I realized that you can’t be friends with people when you break up with them as everything is always misunderstood comfortableness.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you’ve lost faith in me,
then I have nothing,
want nothing
am nothing
Everything
is what you were
to me.
What we were
together
to be
Now your eyes
they just won’t
see
I can’t believe
you lost faith
in me.

(This one isn’t about anything, but I always liked it. I don’t even remember the inspiration. Probably a friend’s breakup.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One word
comes after the other
the third, lost in my mind
the fourth, in my soul to be found
the fifth, promises to hold me tight
the sixth, whispers of life not lived just yet
and the last
is in your eyes.

(The most elegant thing I think I’ve written. Seven words. It doesn’t come true if I tell you what they are.)