"Resolution." (Or: "The Improbable Sinking Organs")

I think I saw your car today. I was working and not really paying attention to each car that I walked past a hundred times. At once, I was both excited and scared shitless. I've resigned myself to the idea that there isn't going to be any opportunities to fix any of this. I've resigned myself to leaving it be. I hadn't quite had the time or mental faculty to prepare myself for a chance meeting. The initial smile that found its way to my face, found itself an exit just as quickly. It was replaced by the feeling of some internal organ, more than likely my stomach or my dysfunctional pancreas, descending rapidly into my calves or ankles.

How does this work again? I mean, I have every desire to be an adult about this. Smile and nod, be kind and gentle in any speaking lines I may be given. But when answers are muddled, "misjudged", mistaken and few and far between...it's hard to be anything but a sulking, blank-eyed version of a guy who looks exactly like me. The people at work ask me if I'm okay. I can't particularly answer them with anything but a shrug. Granted, that might have something to do with losing my voice at the game this weekend.

Speaking of, at least four people asked me where you were on Saturday. I'm sure they all had assumed that by this point in time, I was able to properly indoctrinate you with the love of Purple & Gold, all the LSU fight songs, and a rabid desire for jambalya, crawfish pie and filé gumbo. I guess I haven't gotten around to spreading the news of how your trip to New York and my trip to Key West somehow caused an existential crisis, or in the very least, a re-evaluation. It's nothing more than unfortunate that in this instance, as my luck would have it, distance made the heart grow full of more distance, not any amalgamation of fondness.

After all of that, the car in question was not the one you own. It was the same color. But I think it had four doors. I guess I didn't know you long enough to bother making that distinction. Also, I think the bumper sticker on this one said something about being straight, married and supporting gay marriage. I nodded in approval.

I've been thinking about your, shall I say, obsession with a certain movie about a broken relationship. And not the fact that The Temper Trap song is both beautifully haunting and, now, completely aggravating for me to listen to. I think what sits so poorly with me about that movie is your insistence that your life follows the female lead character arc displayed in the plot. What is even worse is when you compared me to the male lead. I've been there. I've been broken and depressed, drunk constantly and habitually sad. I don't want that. I didn't want that again. I catch myself there again from time to time. Granted, I never had a dance number for you involving a Hall & Oates tune and a live-action/animation sequence, but maybe I just didn't luck out and get the time. However, you do realize she's the one who ends up happy at the end of the movie right? I mean, I sincerely hope that for you...that you find happiness. I do. But I feel like you have it jumbled. Like she's the one who bounces through life unattached. That's not it though. She gets the ring. He meets the cute girl at the end too, but that is more of a suspension tactic as opposed to actual resolution....and he still got stuck in the depths of emotional hell in the meantime.

Maybe that's my problem (one of many, you say?). Resolution. It still sticks out at me like a sore thumb every now and again that I never saw my last foray into relationships resolve. Just end abruptly. And now again. It's not as if I have any inclination that its not at least half my fault. Simply, that knowing any small detail of how this just magically slipped away quicker than it came might help my aforementioned mental faculties. For instance, the detail that helped me arrive at some sort of stability over the last year, was the the previous girl I happened to date ended up back with her ex. The ex whom she had lunch with merely a week before she dropped everything, including me. It's those sort of details that lend the air of resolution to matters such as this.

Still think I should start blogging again?

Haven't We Been Here Before?

Ever feel like you've been progressing in a certain direction for the longest time, even proud of the distances you've covered, only to notice a small landmark or sign that proves you are merely right back where you began? Running in circles seems to be what I was cut out to do.

I ran track in high school....and that is simply an ellipses. I've circled around a few cities before landing in Nashville. And would I be posting this if I hadn't been "circled" by girls over the recent past?

It was almost exactly a year ago (give or take a day for Leap Year...I think), that I perceived my world was turned completely over and all life essences drained out. Sometimes, I still don't think I have any clue what the hell happened to me. Life seemed quite good at the time, and then....POW! No more. Who knows?

I did learn some important lessons over the months after "The Ordeal". My friends and family are invaluable. Absolutely all of them. There wasn't a single person's concern for my mental and emotional well-being that went unnoticed. I leaned very hard on a select few and they stood square with shoulders of solid steel. If I haven't gotten around to thanking you personally and profusely, then "Thank You!" Not that anyone is reading this (which makes it the perfect place to say such things without getting all sappy).

So a year has passed. I am nearly older, not much wiser and still I feel as though I am back where I started that whole process. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl has questionable feelings for boy and splits at the very mention of certain words. When I'm happy, it's as though I emit a particularly foul odor and it is a signal for all interested parties to evacuate my immediate area, as not to allow my head to settle into a pattern of enjoyment. And all I have to show for it is a furrowed brow, a frown and a bunch of run-on sentences.

Nobody likes "Mopey Chris". I don't like "Mopey Chris". It is, however, hard to rid myself of that personality trait when I am oblivious to what it is that I have/had done. And harder still when whiskey is involved. Those of you (who still aren't reading this) that have experienced this distinct mood swing know full well of what I type. And for that, as well, I am sorry.

All of this was much more pointed and planned out when I thought of posting this morning. A whole day's worth of nonsense and self-pity tend to jumble my creative wires pretty good.

Anyway....all of this rambling to point out I've chased another one off. I really like her. She doesn't feel that way any more. So if any of you, at a point in the more immediate future, wonder to yourselves [or even aloud]: "Hey. Where is that Chris guy we hang out with every once in a while?" I am at home. You are welcome to come over. I guarantee I will not be great company. But I will appreciate the spontaneous nature of your visit.

I Needed This.

Americans are generally thought of as a lazy bunch by our friends around the world.
This week, I plan to fully embody that stereotype. I don't even mind.


I needed this vacation. Smitten as I am with my life as it currently is in Nashville, and one person in particular, I needed this. I will claim a rough past year as the necessary premise for my need. It is hard to be on a rollercoaster and not throw up....regardless if the rollercoaster is literal or figurative. A friend told me a few weeks ago that it was good to see me smile again, and to paraphrase the rest of the conversation, he didn't think he could handle me being that far down again. It feels good to smile again.


That being said, I can feel how positively affecting this has been already, to this point. I was lucky enough to witness, and be a part of, my dear friends' wedding. Congrats to Barb & Dave! The rest of this trip will be spent going with the flow. No particular plans. No scheduled activities. Just enjoying hanging out with great friends in a great city.


I don't think I fully understood or believed the hype about Key West until I got here. It is a pretty special place. Tourist-y? Sure. But immensely fun, nonetheless. I've been documenting the trip on facebook. I'll continue to do that. Here goes the rest of it.

"A Special Kind of Asshole"

Yes, fair reading public, I am back. Truth is, I never left. It simply took a special combination of laziness and disinterest to have kept me from blogging for nearly 20 months. At the prodding of a particular person, I have thought about writing ever so slightly more. After reading this, you might regret it...as will she.

I told myself years ago that I didn't want to work in retail ever again. I was burned out on the grind. The lack of days off (specifically weekends), the customers and their inability to be courteous or considerate or even basically decent representations of human beings. I managed to escape the retail world for a number of years, although that doesn't mean I was able to escape assholes altogether [They're everywhere]. It was nice. I even took to online shopping as to avoid crowds and certain types of individuals. This was more than likely equal parts social anxiety and curmudgeonry.

I'm not [necessarily] a misanthrope. I'm also by no means excessively exuberant. I consider myself well-balanced in emotional output. This hasn't always been the case, but that is an entirely different and probably much longer post.

For the last 9 weeks or so, I have been back in the purgatory that is retail commerce. Working for a certain Membership-based warehouse (that isn't affiliated with Wal-Mart) has been challenging and difficult. Physically more than mentally to this point. But as a friend keeps reiterating: "It is all means to an end." Most of our customers are well-to-do, but that doesn't mean we don't see our share of peopleofwalmart.com rejects. All are equally frustrating to deal with.

It is here that I would like to break with the traditional narrative style and enter the rest of my argument as a direct and open letter to "our members".
- - - - - - -

Dear Members,
I hope this letter finds you well. Or at least moderately functional, since we only have four motorized carts for our differently abled members. And I know how pissy you all get when they are in use by some other lard-ass that is too lazy to walk, much less diet.
I am writing to you today to discuss an appalling trend in our warehouses across the nation. It seems that, having paid for your little plastic membership card, you now feel entitled to do some if not all of the following:
- Drive 84mph through the parking lot. It is a parking lot, not the Indy 500.
- Stand in front of the row of carts while rummaging through your belongings for the aforementioned piece of plastic. You are in the way. Plain and simple. Get your card before you get out of your car.
- Get overtly angry that you happen to not be the only person shopping in a bulk-item warehouse on this particular (or any other) day, and now you must wait in line to purchase your 55 gallon drum of Duke's Mayonnaise. Relax. You saw how many cars were in the parking lot. You knew what you were getting into.
- Make the comment: "Wow. You guys are slow today." You just fucking jinxed us, asshole. Now these lines are going to fill up like a tanning salon with sorority girls on Spring Break.
- Make the comment: "Wow. It's hot today, huh?" No shit. It's summer in the south. What? Did you expect to see a guy pushing carts in a parka in the middle of August?
- Actually, just you making any comment is more than likely guaranteed to ruin any semblance of a good day I may have been in line to have.
- A family meal does not consist of "3 Chicken-Bakes, 4 Churros, 3 slices of pepperoni pizza, 2 swirled frozen yogurt cups and 2 vanilla frozen yogurt cups with 'that berry stuff on top'." Why don't you just go ahead and start injecting your children with arterial plaque now and hope for a painless death.
- Yes. I would mind helping you load your items into your car.
- There are 8 cart corrals for your convenience. It is never more than a 50ft walk to one of them from where you parked your car. Don't be that special kind of asshole that rams the cart up onto the medians. Or the kind that parks all the way out by the periphery in an attempt to relish that sliver of shade from the undersized tree you parked next to, only to leave your cart crammed into the grass. I'm the guy who has to go get that cart. I don't want to walk out there anymore than your fat-ass.

Sincerely,
Disgruntled Cart-Pusher
- - - - - - -

There are probably a million more things I could complain about. Strangely, having written some of them down seems to have taken some of the vitriol out of my veins. For now.

Still want to read this?

First Time, Long Time

Dear everyone,
I hope this quick foray into my head finds you well. It has been a very long time since I've sat down to type a blog for you. Too long for some, perhaps not long enough for others. In my defense: I've been alternately busy, lazy, or over-stimulated to pour too much effort into such a time consuming undertaking.

I am still plugging away at the opportunity to play music for a living. Sometimes things go too fast to manage properly. Most of the time, things drag on for days, weeks, months and other lengths of time. The good news is I have finished the recording of five songs and have put them together on a CD that you can now purchase.

I would be honored if you got a copy (or more...they make great gifts)! Just click the link below to order one from my PayPal store. Again, hopefully you are well and will enjoy the music I have created (with the best help from my amazing friends!).

NOW AVAILABLE!
Pinehurst EP
Get a copy (or ten) for only $8

Pinehurst EP

T-SHIRTS ALSO AVAILABLE!!!!!
Medium, Large and X-Large sizes!
ONLY $12!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you would like to donate to the cause and help pay for 'Pinehurst' by clicking the link below!!

Turkey Day.

For those of you that haven't seen it, the best Peanuts© Holiday special is, by far, "A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving"!!

There are many reasons why, such as the kids banding together to 'cook' their own meal and give thanks for their friendship. The main reason I like this special the best is because of a song in the middle of the show called 'Fly Little Birdie' by Vince Guaraldi (the same guy behind all of the music for Peanuts specials) with vocals by some guy named Joe Williams.....yeah, apparently that's his real name.

So....it's a badass song if you can find it. Just watch the episode above.....it's towards the middle or just past that (?).

I, honestly, did not plan on writing a Peanuts©-themed blog....but the weirdest thing happened the other night. I went out to get some drinks with a few peeps that I've been hanging out with here. No lie, our waitress.....er, server.....was none other than Peppermint Patty!!!!

You're probably thinking I'm just stretching to make this a funny quip about a character from a 40-year old comic strip.

Ok.
Her name was Patty.
She was wearing a green shirt.
Her voice was raspy and kind of gruff.
She had reddish-brown, neck length hair.
She was a bit lesbian-ish.

For clarification, I'm not saying there is anything wrong with her being a lesbian, or with lesbians being lesbians in general. I'm simply stating that Peppermint Patty has long been associated as a lesbian. Can we not agree on that? I mean.....her best 'friend', Marcy, calls Patty "Sir." No one else finds that strange?

Alright.
So watch 'A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving'.
Eat turkey. Or To-furkey. Or whatever.
Just enjoy your holiday.

And finally,
a list of things I'm thankful for:


The Movie 'Shaft'


Baseball


Glenn Dorsey


Beer


Sleep


The Lantus SoloStar Pen

&


Beer

I am my Father's Son.

I hate shaving. I really do.

It's annoying. It hurts. Sometimes you bleed. Excessively.
Therefore, I try to limit the number of times per week that I scrape sharp metal across my face.

When I was younger and hadn't quite hit my full pubescent stride, I would constantly "shave" the few sprigs of hair that my face had managed to sprout, in an attempt to speed the process along. First, it was to get my sideburns to grow faster. Then it was to try to grow a moustache, which was a futile effort until I was about 19.

It wasn't that I wanted a Grizzly Adams' Beard®.....it was simply that I wanted the option of growing one. (Which I later tried, with varying levels of success).

Lately, I've had a hard time getting a good, clean shave. I recently got a coupon in the mail for a free four-bladed razor, which I promptly used in order to replace my usual three-bladed razor. I usually maintain some sort of facial hair, and lately it's been the usual goatee sans moustache. I have been wrestling with the idea of not shaving and letting the beard take over, but it's not quite cold enough for that yet.

Today, I decided to try using the old three blade razor first to get the bulk of the hair that had grown on my mug for the better part of a week. Then, I would use the shiny new four blade razor to get nice and close, to keep the stubble at bay for another few hours.

It was about halfway through my third upstroke with the four bladed razor that I stopped and looked myself dead in the eyes.

Crap.

I am my Father's Son.

My father has used on average four different style razors to shave his face every morning for the last several years. The mirrored cabinet in the bathroom at my parent's house looks like a virtual graveyard for razorblades. I've routinely fired witty remarks at my father for his overdone shaving ritual. He spends what seems like hours in the bathroom every morning just to ensure that a single folicle of newly sprouted stubble will not ruin his day.

It's strange to see your parents' influence in yourself. Take a good long look at yourself in a mirror one day. Sure, it sounds vain and silly. Honestly, it's kind of cathartic.

I am like any other person. Growing up, you shake your head and close your eyes from embarrasment when your parents do just about anything. You try and avoid becoming like them.

My father occasionally makes bad jokes (Sorry, Pops). He makes what seem like the strangest decisions sometimes. My father is a creature of habit. He has refueled his car at the same gas station for over a decade. He shops at the same small grocery store, where it seems like everyone who works there knows him by name, for everything (except his beloved razorblades). He watches the weather radar all day on tv, with the sound off. My father never walks around the house barefooted.

Then again, how am I any different?

Go ahead and ask my friends how often I make bad jokes. G'head, ask 'em!

Ask my friends if I've ever made weird decisions....about anything.

I am absolutely a creature of habit. I eat the same meal from the same fast food place just about everyday. I shop at the same grocery store, although I sincerely doubt the store manager know me by name. Given access to the tv, I watch ESPN all day, albeit with the sound on.

I think the only thing that I don't share with my Dad is that I do walk around barefoot. All the time. Even in the winter.

I now know that there are much worse realizations than learning your personality traits are directly inherited from your parents.

For example:
-The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles do not actually live in the sewers of NYC. Heartbreaking, I know.

-I do not have The Force. As badly as I have wanted to be a Jedi all of my life, I cannot merely stick my hand out and move objects, or use mind control to alter situations to my favor. Even though there was that time, when I was about 8, when I reached out my hand to turn off the lights before bed and the room went dark. I slept very well that night, thinking I was well on my way to being the Greatest Jedi Knight ever......turns out the light bulb had just burned out. Damn.

My Father is a good man. He has worked hard all of his life to support a family that just kept getting bigger. He volunteers most of his free time to several organizations related to his job, the Kiwanis Club and the Youth Group at the church where I grew up. No one has ever asked him to do any of this.

I am my Father's Son.....and I can't think of anybody else's kid that I'd rather be.

You Won't Catch Me In a Sauna

I am terrible at seasonal transitions. When the weather changes, it takes me a few days to adjust accordingly.
Perhaps this is due to my having been raised in the deep south, where our seasons are as follows:

January-February = Winter (There is a possibility of temperatures below 40)
March-October = Summer (HOT)
October-December = Fall (Not as Hot)

The last few weeks have been quite pleasant here in Nashville. However, it has been raining most of the last week and with the extra moisture, colder temperatures have arrived. I'm usually a shorts-wearing type of guy, so it took me a bit to realize that I needed to switch to pants.

So I'm well into my pants and light jacket routine this week, and randomly, I woke up this morning and I was freezing. I checked weather.com and saw that it was 42 degrees (Fahrenheit) outside. I quickly formulated in my head that it would be a good idea to take a nice, hot shower and get the blood flowing.

Apparently, I got overzealous.

I ended up taking the hottest shower on record. It was like a sauna in my tiny bathroom. I realized that saunas are just plain weird. The hot water and steam that I had intended to wake up my senses ended up leaving me drained. I was weak and lame (not that I'm not usually weak and lame, but this is totally different). I felt tired all day and generally "blah".

I then started to think of why saunas even exist (I've got a LOT of time to think during the day, when I'm driving in my truck). I looked it up on Wikipedia. And I can't appreciate the idea of sitting in a blazing hot room (sometimes as hot as 212 degrees) with a bunch of naked dudes. Not that there's anything WRONG with that.....it just so happens that it isn't my particular flavor of diet soda.

So keep your towels on in the steamroom and reduce the heat in your showers.
Rock on people.

The Art of The Quick Trip

I am always surprised whenever I make a trip back to Baton Rouge, it never matters how long I stay, I usually end up thinking that I should have stayed one or two more days.

This past weekend was no different.

The only real change from my normal pattern is that I actually made a concious effort to spend time with my parents and tried very hard not to stay out past 4am. I succeeded in both categories.

Friday night I went out to eat with my Mom and Dad and my sister, Robin. Afterward, I ended up crashing in the arm chair while watching tv. Not the most hip way to spend a Friday night, but I'm okay with that. I, of all people, am not hip.

Saturday was also an effort to stay home, as I had two offers of LSU vs. Auburn tickets...and each of them were equally enticing.....but I decided to spend the day with my Dad and watch the game in glorious HD(!).

I made my way out late Saturday, after the thrilling Demetrius Byrd catch (seen below), to hang out with some quality people that I know. The only drag was that I could hardly see them due to the smoke machine that a noise-post-[insert music genre adjective here] rock band had employed throughout the evening,



Sunday, John and I forced the Amazing Brand-O and Christy to watch the Dark Crystal. I'll be absolutely honest. I loved this movie as a kid. And now, after having seen the special features, knowing how much time and work was put into making this film, I am still a big fan. But I do think the movie lacks something. Yes, I've gotten older (and recently older, still), so maybe the movie has lost that fantastic quality it once had.

I sloshed out of town on monday morning. No, I wasn't hungover....it was raining. I actually didn't drink that much this trip....believe it or not. The biggest disappointment was receiving a phone call from my boss after a solid six hours of driving, having just passed Tuscaloosa, AL, telling me that he didn't need me to come to work on Tuesday. So that long-desired, yet elusive, extra day slipped through my grasp again. Had I recieved that call somewhere near Hattiesburg, or maybe even Meridian.....I'd have pulled a cloverleaf U-turn and headed right back to BR.

All in all, I had a good trip. I saw a lot of the people that I specifically wanted to see, I unexpectedly ran into a few people that I was glad to see, I spent quality time with my family, and I got to see LSU win, albiet only on tv. Sadly, I missed out on seeing some people whom I intended to see....and to Tom and Holly and others, I sincerely apologize.

Until next time....which I hope is sooner (Thankgiving), rather than later (xmas).

Rock on peeps.
Go Rockies!
War VA Tech beating BC!!!

Softball: Final

Wow.
7 weeks went fast!

Last night was fantastic.....We swept the double-header and finished the season 5-9.
Having started 0-fer, that's a good thing!

As a team, we really started to play well, and we found a pretty decent lineup that allowed us to score early....and as we discovered last night, often!

Game one started as a major victory and ended up almost a nail-biter.
We jumped out to a 12-3 lead and ended up winning 12-10. All of our offense came in the second inning when we batted around. I singled and walked, drove in two and scored twice in that inning alone. I walked again later in the game but was stranded at second.

Game two was probably our greatest game and biggest accomplishment as a team.

We fell behind quickly and dug ourselves into a deeper hole with some bad defensive plays....mostly my fault. Somehow, I forgot how to catch the ball. I was playing catcher for the first time all season and I had to field a couple of plays at the plate.

The first play was a lady tagging from third who honestly had no business charging the plate. I caught the ball early and stood my ground as she barreled into me. No harm, no foul. She was out by a mile. The next play was a relay throw from shortstop and I completely missed the ball as my eyes wandered to the much larger guy coming down the line full steam, with absolutely no intentions of stopping on account of me standing there.

Thankfully, we were able to overcome our mistakes and make a solid comeback. Everybody in the lineup came through in the clutch. Tara made some great pitches in the last few innings. Whether by pure skill or by pure luck, the ball danced to the inside and outside corners of the plate and for the last six or seven outs, the other team couldn't make any solid contact.

Jeff showed some incredible hustle, circling in from first on what ended up being a double. Cecilia made the most out of the least contact at the plate...she reached base three or four times, drove in two or three runs and scored at least twice. Our "ringer" Eric had arguably his worst night at the plate, popping up twice and drilling a line drive single, but our team was able to score a lot of runs without the longball.

So we came back to win game 2, 14-13.

Way to go team!

For those keeping track (i.e. me), my final line is .591 avg (13-22), 7 Runs Scored, 9 RBIs, 5 BBs, and an OBP of .667

Can't wait for next season. But my legs (after crouching all night) are more than happy for the break.

Go ROCKIES!!!!