What I Meant To Say...

2007-10-29

Life is funny. When I said in my last post, "But I wasn't done yet" I meant it.  So how come life tried to make a liar out of me this morning?

One thing I can truthfully say is this morning I dodged a bullet. Yet the irony isn't lost, as what could have been my final post, after a small chain of events this morning that almost took my life.

I've stated before that I know I'm not going to die in some dignified manner. Newp, just isn't going to happen. I've had enough near misses with stupid household mishaps, as the day I was vacuuming the kitty litter in the bathroom, turning to grab the falling, running vacuum, and the nozzle slipping into the open toilet, inches away from sucking up the bowl water, mixing a lovely conduit of electricity straight into me as I held onto the metal nozzle. Only by my Jet Li quick reflexes, only seen in the movies, was I able to yank the hose out in time before my electrified and fried body wouldn't have been found until the neighbors complained. Like I said, I'm not destined for a dignified end.

My old roommate is living with me again, both for financial reasons, and we're helping each other out. I have no secrets from him, and in an effort to get him back on his feet, I've helped him set up his books, online banking, web pages, you name it, I've created it for him. Administration and organization isn't his strong point. We joked last night that I knew more about him then his ex wives, and he expressed  some concern in those areas. I laughed at him as I pointed out the position that I hold with my company that I am completely responsible for my bosses life. I know his social security number, access to his credit card numbers, I cut the company checks. Beside being the IT Director and Accounting Manager, in my spare time I take care of his family, his properties, his vehicles, boats, you name it. At times his wife calls me to find out how to broach my boss about money she needs to spend. He's a multimillionaire to say the least. Bottom line, I'm responsible for his credit score and portfolio. I live by a strong set of business ethics. Truly if I were going to go off the deep end, it wouldn't be after my said roommates unemployment check. But I offered to sign whatever legal documents necessary to give him peace. Never mind  I've known him 20 years, business is business.

With a certainty after I explained that succinctly, he smiled and kind of had a chagrined look on his face, and I swiveled back in the chair continuing the work I was doing before he had his misgivings.

I asked what his week was going to be, knowing that he wouldn't be returning tonight, as he was going to work with his brother this week out of town. He told me he was setting his alarm early, as he could get a lot done before he left at 7:00 a.m. I sort of rolled my eyes, as over the past couple of weeks, I go down the hall to knock on his door as it may as well be the night before Christmas, as a creature never is stirring, not at 7 in this house.

Those of you who read this blog or have come to know me, already realize that I do most of my writing in the wee hours of the morning usually between 3-5 a.m. Then I watch TNT reruns of Angel and Charmed, and at times I do fall back asleep for a small catnap. 

After he told me his plans, I smirked and said "Ok, I'll check on you in the morning" and  promptly snuggled into my bed, cursing once again that I have failed to remove the AC unit from my windowsill, and cold air was blowing in from the three inch gap around both sides of the unit. Not that big of a deal, but I hadn't turned the heat on yet, and it was down right chilly last night. 

I never heard him get up today, I wrote my "What's going to be on your epitaph" blog and fell asleep. I barely heard him tell me goodbye and I struggled with waking up, and had easily slipped into a deep sleep, unusual for me and moments later my cellphone was playing the default song that I have for unknown callers, "How To Save A Life."

I groped blindly for the phone, and it was the office manager asking me for the bosses home phone number. Groggily I tried to come up with the number, and as she repeated what I said, I struggled again to focus and came up finally with the correct number. She had to give him a wake up call, and was late in performing that task.

I lay there for a second, trying to figure out what was wrong. A strange smell was pervading not only my room, but the hallway, bathroom and I realized it was exhaust fumes. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from, but I remembered we had a little issue last night with the Franklin stove, because it wasn't drafting correctly.

I called TJ since he had just left, and asked him what the hell happened this morning, and by the way was he trying to kill me?

He seemed concerned and I told him the whole house was full of fumes, and he was more than apologetic. He explained he left the office door open downstairs, and the first frost had hit. He has a 1995 Mini-van that has seen better days. He backs into my very short driveway, and he left the motor idling while he was waiting for the car to defrost. Once he realized the office smelled, he closed the door not knowing how fast those exhaust fumes travel.

"Uh-huh", I told him. "I think this was just your way of doing me in...I know too much." Ok, I joke when I have near death experiences.

Looking back on all the little things that transpired, and the phone call playing How To Save A Life, from the Office Manger, I realized she really did, well that and the fact that I'm too lazy to take that damn AC unit out, but damn me anyway for writing a blog and tying up that loose end so nicely.

So next time if Karma wants to kick my ass, I'm going to try some positive energy and maybe write a blog about winning the lottery, or figuring out the ultimate way to create world peace. Oh wait, I did that in an earlier blog, that one didn't seem to catch on yet. The point is, I'm not going to poke the proverbial bear and tie up my life so nice and easy in writing. So what I meant to say was..uh yeah, ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, and I'll get back to you on that.

 

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What's your Epitaph?

2007-10-28

This came up in conversation today, first as a smart ass question, and I gave a smart ass answer to the person that asked it. Well smart ass as in what I would write on his. We've all seen those clever ones over the years or purported to be attributed to great minds. Here's a couple in case youve missed them;

The body of Benjamin Franklin, printer (like the cover of an old book, its 
contents worn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding) lies here, food for 
worms. Yet the work itself shall not lost, for it will, as he 
believed, appear once more In a new and more beautiful 
edition, corrected and amended by its Author

 

I am ready to meet my Maker. 

Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal 
of meeting me is another matter

Winston Churchill 

 

"That's All Folks!"

Mel Blanc 

In any event you get the point, the last imprint we will make will be inscribed in granite to mark our final resting place. I know we don't want to think about how we are going to die, I can only hope my last words are going to be something along the lines of " Oh God..I'm cummmm" well, you get the picture. Though it will suck to be the guy(s) that I am with when it happens...lol. Ok, move along.

But as our conversation continued, I really started thinking about it because its one thing that I haven't pondered in the last few years to my recollection. Lord knows I don't want to leave it up to my friends, because it would be the ultimate payback for some of the practical jokes I've played over the years, but I would want something to summarize who I was, and I doubt anyone is going to get carpal tunnel scripting a blog on my stone. I picture some tall four sided obelisk with writing filling each square inch. Instead of evoking fond memories for the visitors, someone is going to say..Shut up already, you're dead! So that isn't quite the impact I want to make.

I'm not attempting to be morbid, just practical. We as adults take the time to write a will, maybe if you're a type A personality, you already have your obituary written, because god forbid you leave it up to that idiot brother of yours, who can't remember to zip up his fly when he leaves the bathroom, and you think he's going to get your death notice correct in ink? Hardly. Even though I am an organ donor, they still have to cremate the rest of me, and plop those ashes somewhere, so I will have to arrange my final resting place.

Interestingly enough as I write this L.A. Ink is on in the background, I have to laugh. Jenna Jameson, porn star extraordinaire, has come in to get a tattoo of Joan of Arc's last words, "I am not afraid, this is what I'm born to do ." Now I am not going to judge Jenna by her past and how she's made millions, but there is a huge difference in the sacrifices Joan of Arc made for religious reasons, and what she was born to do and share with millions world wide.  Jenna is very impressed with herself, and good girl you've done well financially, but hold your claim, and I quote" Don't fuck with Jenna." Begging your pardon ma'am but I don't think you can count the number of men and women you've fucked, so if your thinking those should be your last words, it will be nothing if not ironic. 

Sorry about going down that bunny trail, but back to my point at hand.  

I think by the end of my conversation though, I had hit on it, and it was kind of simple. It would be my name, birth date, death date and simply inscribed in quotes underneath. " But I wasn't done yet" where of course some smacked ass could say, 'Yeah you are", but I think in my mind, I've always wanted to be someone who will live a very long life. Genetically its possible, on my paternal side, we live well into our 90's and 100's. I checked my lifeline on my hand though, and I think I only have about 30 or so years left.

But the point remains. I don't think I ever will have seen everything there is to see, learn everything there is to learn, and help everyone I possibly can. Even when life is kicking my ass as its want to do at times lately, I know around the corner is my turn to grab life right back by the balls, and give it a good squeeze, so it pops out at both ends. Fortunately for my own set of beliefs, I kind of side with Mr. Franklin, and I believe our energy is just put back into the cosmos and re energized whether its in another soul, and regardless of the timeline, we will find our circle of souls again in another lifetime.

So what's your epitaph going to be? I could just stick with the blog title and have on the stone, " I Was Naked When I Wrote This" as well, that would be kind of fitting and lord knows the truth as well.

:-) 

 

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Silly Ass Nigerians or PSA # 154

2007-10-24

If I took the time to really fret about things on a global scale, its the greed and shallowness that Americans are thought of worldwide.

Case in point, we've all received the Nigerian letters that you've been contacted out of all the people on this planet as the only one who can get international funds released for the low low price of thousands of US dollars. They've pretty much run that gamut out, so they have to get more creative to steal our money.

The latest is now using Paypal and I will share with you a recent transaction.

I sell a lot of things for people on line either in my eBay store, or if things don't happen there I'll pop it over on Craigslist. I've been advertising a lovely Leo Diamond engagement ring for sale, for a friend who's love done him wrong. Whatever. He just wants to sell it and pay off the jeweler.

Currently I have it listed on Craigslist, and I received an inquiry about it from a gentleman, and I use that term loosely. He was willing to pay the asking price and here's always the huge tip off, $100.00 for Fed Ex or DHL to get it there fast so the minister can bless it before the wedding.

OK, well beside the over priced delivery they want to pay, appealing to my religious side always falls on deaf ears. His direction to me, and I laugh at the audacity, is to take my listing down and he will send me the money, via Paypal, and hurry up about it.

My response was, pay up, and if you are from out of state, the money has to clear before I will release the ring.

Obviously 24 hours went by and I didn't hear from him.

This morning in my email spam folder were two emails from a supposed service@paypalhelpdept.com, or at least that's what the mask on the real email address is, brandoncollins002@gma.com

The email indicated that the money was sent, and I laughed at the place I was supposed to send the ring;

Postage Info:		Name: Ernest Quainoo Address:No 6 Sanusi Street Coca Cola City: Ibadan State: Oyo State Zip code: 23402 Country: Nigeria
Address Status:		Confirmed

The second email explaining how this new pay pal worked was even better:

 

Right-i-o folks. I deal with international payments all the time, and I can assure you, the money shows in your pending transactions tab.

I don't know whether to be more offended or amused that these Nigerian scammers think they are smarter than the average bear. Don't get me wrong, Americans in their greed lost millions of dollars on these scams at first. But for crying out loud, this has been going on for years. I'd like to give my fellow countrymen the benefit of the doubt and we've all learned that you don't get something for nothing, none of us have won a lottery we don't remember entering, and when anything with the word Nigeria appears in it, you can bet your bottom dollar they want your last one.

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A Strange Interlude in my Life

2007-10-22

I got a phone call yesterday from someone who I've alway's considered to be the woman that should have been my mother. My Martha as I call her, I've sung her praises here before.

She doesn't call often, and when I see her name appear on my phone, I drop whomever I am speaking with to take her call. I don't say hello, its "Where are you going now?"

So yesterday when she rang, I was thankful for one, that the phone call I was on I wanted to end, and two well I just love Martha. Old school, southern, and just a presence in my life, always below the surface.

I gave my usual question, and she answered that she had just returned from Turkey a few weeks back. I had been on her mind and she wondered how I was doing. She was aware that I was going through this bankruptcy, which honestly is a lot of sit around and wait.

But bad news from my lawyer a week or so ago, was affecting me. But first a quick quiz? Hands up for all of you out there who pay your mortgage on the first of the month? Anyone? Ok a few of you who may have it auto deducted, but otherwise I'm betting most of you play it til your grace period.

I'm one of those. Sure my mortgage company is the largest in the nation, and have been making the news lately for all the layoffs and sub prime lending issues. They hold my first and my second. The second isn't a big deal, I have that deducted weekly. I attempted that with the first but way larger payment, and I couldn't accrue other money needed to pay other bills. I may rethink that with this new set of issues.

I protected my mortgage and lease payment when I filed Chapter 7. What that means is I didn't include them in my creditors that I wanted the debt to go away. I need my house, I put too much into it, not to have the ability to sell it and take the net proceeds. I'm still on my path to move to California but that is another blog for another time.

What my lawyer called to tell me, is that my mortgage company executed a stay of motion on their part of the bankruptcy and they started to foreclose on me. Give them x amount of dollars, and go back to court, and oh yeah they want another $650.00 for court fees. What do I want to do?

Options? Like I think I have any? Foreclosure is out, buy me some time. I can wipe out a small 401k I had contributed to, but honestly what the crap? They can foreclose and I'm not 3 months behind? Apparently yes.

So I go through another agonizing week of attempting to get paperwork signed to release my money. Because it was through work, the owner of my company had to sign the documents as he technically is the trustee. Perfect, like I needed my boss to know even more information. Then the games that ING plays. They zero'd out my account from earning any extra money, popped it into theirs to earn the interest. I had to call three times to find out where the ACH and why I don't have my money. I'm hoping it hits today. Lawyers will take their time getting back to you, however the same should not be said for giving them an answer.

So I'm relating this in the cliff notes version to Martha, but I wasn't dispassionate about it. This bothers me on alot of levels, some so deep that only I will admit it to myself and no one else, and certainly not recorded here for anyone to find anytime in the future.

The offsetting factor is I had an old roommate of mine from twenty years ago move in a couple of weeks ago. I didn't realize how much I missed him and our friendship. He was 19 when he first moved in with me and my other roommate Jacqui 20 years ago. I was like the middle child, I was five years older then him, and five years younger than Jacqui. It also was the 80's and Jacqui and her friends were heavy partiers. I turned into Public Service announcement 43 for reasons why people should not do coke. I would always be furious to come home to a party on a Friday night and the same people would still be there Monday morning. I learned quickly how to kick these older drug induced a-holes out of the house.

But TJ was different. He fit in, and rolled with the punches. There was a horrible water issue at the house, toxic as it were, and Jacqui bailed and moved to California, leaving TJ and I with a lease we couldn't break, and I writing to Harris Woffard, since there wasn't any safe drinking water laws in Pennsylvania. I will give credit where credit is due, because he was one politician who got them passed later on. However at the time we were young and told by Remax that the only way to move us out of the house, was to sign a hold harmless clause, preventing us from suing them and they would find us a new place to live.

Looking back as then we were 20 and 25 and had no legal or parental representation, so we took the deal for our health's sake if anything. I'd love to say after that everything was peachy, but hormones rage, and testosterone was high, and lines were crossed. I was older and could see the potential of this guy, and my heart was broken. I never really told him, I just moved out. I needed a place to go, and Martha always had a place for me.

So yesterday I mentioned that he was living with me again, twenty years later. I explained how I found him on MySpace back in the spring, the last I had seen him was 10 years ago when Jacqui was in town visiting. He thought it was a great idea to get the roommates back together again for a reunion. I had a cool little carriage house that I was living in at the time, on a beautiful estate. TJ and I had mended fences over the years, but I really had no idea what had transpired with Jacqui in all her time in California. I remembered that she had only been out there less than a year when that huge earthquake hit, and her house was basically in the epicenter. Things went downhill after that and she had ended up taking a leave of absence from work, then eventually quitting her job. By 1997, she wasn't the same person I used to live with, or maybe she always was, I was just too trusting.

Regardless of the incidents that happened that night 10 years ago, and who did what to one another, I felt betrayed and cut them both out of my life. It was only later and with an apology that Jacqui admitted she had lied and was jealous of what she thought I had and wanted it for herself and to take from me. I'm not the forgiving type when it comes to me losing friendships and purposeful destruction. Anyone can make a mistake, an error in judgment. Deliberately sabotaging someone's life doesn't garner any forgiveness on my part.

But time is a funny thing and casually searching MySpace one day, I looked for him, and found a profile that could have been his, but no picture. I tossed out an email, if this was so and so,and these circumstances applied, I was just saying hi. I really wasn't expecting an answer, but about a month later I got a response. He thought about me often as well, he was going through his 2nd divorce and he has a four year old son. He was living about 2 1/2 hours away, and we agreed to meet at some point in the future. Future meaning one week or so from that point on.

We decided to meet at a half way point from where his son lived and I lived. I walked into TGI Friday's and as he sat at the bar, time just seemed to roll away. Same smile, hair a little thinner, but the camaraderie was still viable. We spoke for hours and I decided at that time he needed to get out of the living situation he was in, since it was too close to 1987 all over again, and not a good atmosphere for his child. I told him about my place here, the bankruptcy, but I had the room. We drove back here so he could see for himself, and it was settled, and we are on the same time table as far as plans for the future go.

I tried explaining to Martha, that even with my plate being as full as it is, and trying to keep my head above water financially, I already know I have to sell my house come the spring, that in the midst of losing everything I've worked so hard for, I'm ok. I'm not great, I'm not writing like I should, but knowing someone is here who can fix things, is a relief. Having a four year old over every other weekend doesn't suck either. TJ thinks I'm a softie when it comes to kids, I can let you talk to two girls that will tell you different, but setting rules to follow isn't being mean. But sure, when a 4 year old asks for a lullaby, and can I rub his back and snuggle him to fall asleep, will get me every time. TJ thought I was being worked over, I said sometimes little guys just need a female when they are missing their mom. Turns out he was just upset that little guy doesn't ask dad for that, and he came to me. I told him it really just boiled down to I'm soft in the right places.

So I sit here, my financial house crashing down around me, but strangely at peace. I can't hurry up the process of a divorce needed in California, to get to the man I want to be with, its a waiting game, and probably the more difficult of a relationship to work on. But thoughts of moving there and being with him comfort me as well. I'm fortunate to know I have two good guys in my life right now, one who is helping me get through this present and I know he will move on as well as I will and I don't know when I will see him again, and the other that is the future, that gets me through the endless hours and gives me the gumption to get through this mess I'm in and turn a pipe dream into a reality, as daunting as it seems.

But these things keep me away from my keyboard, but its just where I am right now, just like the rest of you. As I told Surrogate the other day, I'm just going through a life right now. Good, bad or indifferent but strangely at peace. It is what it is.

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Thrill Killers

2007-10-16

The followin synopsis is byPaul Lonardo and more information for upcoming work can be found on his website http://www.paullonardo.com/index.htm

When Amy Shute and Jason Burgeson were held up at gunpoint and kidnapped in the early morning hours of June 9, 2000, their abductors would not be satisfied with robbery and car theft, crimes with which all five suspects were very familiar. This would be the first time that any one of the five young criminals were driven to murder. In the aftermath of the brutal double homicide, friends and families of the victims began to ask why. Among the many answers that investigators uncovered, this was one that was never fully resolved to any degree of satisfaction. Some experts believe that, in certain instances, killing becomes a team sport, with the only reward being peer approval. These offenders are sometimes called thrill killers because their violent acts seem to occur in the complete absence of any other motivation.

They might just as well have taken the car and left the couple behind, alive. Instead, Amy and Jason were ordered into the back of the stolen vehicle and driven to a secluded golf course and shot execution-style. For nothing more than , the lives of Amy Shute and Jason Burgeson were tragically taken. For their families, this was only the beginning of a long and difficult journey, even after the swift capture of the murderers.
Typically, such a case would be handled by local prosecutors. However, because Rhode Island was one of only a dozen states that did not have the death penalty, the Shutes and the Burgesons waged a vigorous campaign to have the case prosecuted by United States Attorneys under the federal carjacking statute, which provides a capital punishment penalty if the crime of carjacking results in bodily injury or death. With no federal inmate executed since 1963, the quest for justice against Amy's and Jason's killers would clearly be a hard-fought one. Despite the challenges, together with the victim's families, local, state and federal authorities entered this legal and moral battle unflinchingly. Within the context of this struggle for justice, everyone wanted to be sure that Amy Shute and Jason Burgeson were not forgotten.

This is that story.

 

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Maxime's to Live By

2007-10-01

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