Archive for June, 2009
June 30th, 2009 | 
Author: The Reason to log onto the web in the morning.
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Time and Death heal all wounds. The triumphant and tragic life of a man has come to an end. The King is dead. Long live the King.
I was thinking that others would comment on this before I got around to it, if ever. But I had a long conversation with a co-worker today and I figured I might as well get some of it down in digital ink.
“The Man” is always holding us people down.
I will say this loud and clear so that there can be no misunderstanding: the recent death of a musical icon has changed my life.
“How?” is the cry I hear from the three or four people (two?) reading this column. Simple. The death of this icon has caused me to focus on his life. The triumphant and tragic life of a man who just wanted to make people happy, but was demonized and vilified by people with no knowledge of fact. Is it possible that this man committed unspeakable and immoral crimes of the most deplorable nature? Yes, it is certainly with-in the realm of possibility. But isn’t it all the more likely that we wanted to believe he committed these crimes? Is it possible that we wanted to destroy this man? Read the rest of this entry »
Recently I have found myself in certain social circles. I find myself asking a damning question: are all these people crazy? The trouble with that question is that it is invariably followed by the darker question: if I am surrounded by crazy people, does that make me one of them?
Did you know that Glen Beck is a CIA plant meant to draw attention away from the Patriot movement? Or how about this: did you know fire has never brought down a steel building? Never ever.
These are just a small sampling of things I have heard recently from people I thought were otherwise rational. I found myself wondering. Am I crazy? It is said that you can judge a person by the friends he keeps. Does this mean that if a person’s friends are conspiracy theorist nut jobs that by default that person is also a nut job? The thought is sobering.
Remember the end of the movie Aliens, when the surviving space marines venture into the bowels of the colonial Terra forming power plant, to find that it had been transformed into a catacomb hive of bio-organic material, where the aliens could breed and prosper?
Yeah… that what my lungs feel like.
I have an appointment with the local shaman. Hopefully, his potions will be strong enough to purge the evil spirits that dwell within my ribcage.
So, I have a Death Cough ailement.
Moist gooey lumps of proto-matter are being painfully wretched from my core. This reminds me of a story.
4 years ago, I got a nasty bronchitis infection. As a REAL MAN, I just kept on keeping on, confident that my antibodies would triumph over the invading spore and handily return home from battle to marry the comely antibody-ess next door. After two months of raging conflict, where the battle lines moved back and forth from Wellness to Death’s Door, a co-worker who notice the wheezing rattle of my impending demise forcefully encouraged me to go to my local sawbones.
I relented. My Doctor is an affible fellow, who after devining my present state advised me that had I waited another day or two he would have me in the hospital for two weeks. You see, I had allowed the lung infection to fester and become “That Which Can Kill You”. He asked why I waited so long, and I replied “Well, it seemed like it got better, then it got worse…back and forth. I thought it would just go away eventually.”
To which my Doctor replied “Brian, you’re not 28 anymore. These things don’t just ‘go away’. They kill you.”
That was the moment where I realized my true mortality. Even if I am careful…even if I never jump out of a plane with a parachute or go skiing or cave diving… age will still weaken me till something trivial lays me low.
So, I now have Death Cough 2.0.
The SheGan wanted me to call the Sawbones this morning, to get in right away. “Nah…” I said. “Let’s see how I feel by Monday.”
*Coughs violently*
This is how I ride…
I know what you are thinking…
“Gan, why the hell did you see this tween-pron flick?”
I’m asking myself the same thing. I had downloaded it for my babysitter, who has nothing but the hard crush on “Edward! (*Sigh*)”. So, weeks later it is still on my harddrive looking oh so delete-worthy. But, never wanting to throw out junkfood without a little taste, I decided to keep it until a particularly entertainment free night.
That night came… and I cannot believe I actually watched the entire thing.
I am back from vacation. Hence the title of this post. We travelled to Toronto for a week in order to see the in-laws, especially the freshly minted nephew my sister-in-law bore into the world on May 3rd. My nephew Cole. He is probably the most well behaved baby this side of the equator. Interestingly he does seem to have a visceral hatred of the 401. But who is to blame him? Anyone who has driven that monstrousity of a motorway shares the sentiment.
I had a wonderful time, and it all ended too quickly. Especially when you consider that two days of travelling (one split with hell at the US Passport Agency) and 20 hours of work on a ultra rush, ultra high priority what not that required I take a company laptop and work a 12 hour Friday at the farmhouse. But never the less it was a good time.
There was of course the pleading. The near constant drone of my in-laws making the case for me to move to Canada. For me to embrace the red stylings of the wintery north. I love them all dearly. But it is just not in my “five year plan”.
