I’m 25. I’m married. I have a coat and tie job, live in a pretty nice house, and enjoy moderately expensive bourbon.
I'm sorry I was gone for a year, but with a counter on my blog, I know that people periodically checked in to see if anything new was here. And of course there wasn't and people were sad. I was sad. It was hard to maintain a blog that promised weekly entries. And a week off became a month and a month became a year, and here I am now, a boy with a dream that is on life support and the cord rests solely in my hand. So I'm gonna keep the respirator running and see if I can bring this dying dream back to life.
3) I'm going from working in a suburban mall parking lot at a huge Memphis bank branch to a high rise in East Memphis for a small Memphis Bank on the executive floor. Huge improvement. Very exciting. Unfortunately I will not be able to walk to the following fine dining spots: Red Lobster, Bahama Breeze, Logan's Roadhouse, On the Border, or TGI Friday's.
6) TBS has changed their daytime lineup significantly since the last time I had a day to watch it. No more Home Improvement or Yes, Dear. Now we have shows exclusively produced by Tyler Perry or starring the Belushi brother that has had less success in thirty years than his brother had in about four.
10) The hit teenage drama Pretty Little Liars on ABC Family does two things for me. It makes me excited about Mondays almost as much as professional wrestling does. It also makes me justifiably creepy because I watch it with such enthusiasm.
1) the zack morris iPhone cover:
2) batman vs. james bond:
no. i'm not talking about lost. i'm talking about the island that everyone knows exists, but nobody can seem to find. the island that holds riches the world has never seen. the island that boasts the most beautiful beaches but has only been inhabited by a lucky few.
8 seasons? 9 seasons? whatever. jack bauer hasn't even lived out 2 weeks of his life over a span of almost a decdade. it was a novel idea when created, but in 20 years, he will have lived all of a month. will people still oooh and ahh over it then? do yourselves a favor fox. kill him while you're ahead.
5) flavored shampoo:
6) 'n sync reunion:
There are things and people that come into our lives that we obviously love. And there are things and people that come into our lives that we obviously hate. But then there are a few things and people that we come across that we know we should hate, but we simply cannot.
We hate Nickelback. We hate being on a road trip and having to pee really bad. We hate Osama bin Laden. We hate Notre Dame.
So what should we hate but find it impossible to?
Over the past semester, (I don't know if I can still use that word since I'm not a student, but whatev.) I have tried so hard to hate the two aforementioned things, but just can't seem to darken my heart enough to.
But you can't deny that the song is cheesy, poppy and designed for 13 year old girls. I should hate it, but I can't. I bet you could walk into a Gothic kid's room while nobody else was home and he'd be singing along with it on his iTunes. Of course it would be disguised with a Slipknot song title so when it's number one on his most played list he won't lose any Goth street cred.
He's just too good to be true. He's like Tiger Woods minus the affairs and the berating of photo snappers trying to get a pic of him. Watching him play and lead his teammates is like tasting Jello for the first time. It's like seeing the Mighty Ducks for the first time. It just inspires.
As I walked out of the Resorts Hotel and Casino around 3:00 AM last night, I was tired, my head was stopped up and I was $60 in the hole. Two of the guys I went with left for the night with over $200 in profit. And the third lost $60 in a slot machine in less than ten minutes.
However, when you're in a casino in the middle of the night as I was last night, you see the people that don't think of blackjack and the slots and poker as entertainment, but more as a means to an end, a chance to get (back) ahead, an opportunity to better themselves. And it's pretty sad. Elderly women carrying oxygen tanks to their favorite machine while still smoking a cigarette do not give you that tingly, joyful feeling all over. The middle aged gentleman cashing his paycheck and then losing it all on the craps table makes you ache for the wife that might be counting on that check to pay the bills or the kids hoping for Christmas gifts this year.
Am I saying that casinos are evil? Not really. Can they be a lot of fun? Sure, I had a pretty good time last night. But can they gave you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach because they give people a false sense of hope that they have a chance to walk away a millionaire? Absolutely. I left with that feeling last night. It could've been the $60 I lost, but I think it was more the sadness I felt for the few dozen people still there trying to change their lives.
Well I wasn't really going anywhere with that, I just thought it was kind of funny. I mean if that song is playing while you're at the urinal and you don't giggle a little bit, you might not be human.
As I walked in to meet the coaches and players, my face looked like someone had rubbed a piece of sand paper on it for half an hour or so. The head coach at the time, the legendary Larry Finch, looked at me, my bloodied face and then looked at my grandmother. According to her, the look he gave her said, "You evil old bird. You beat your grand kid?" But I was quite a precocious little one and told the whole story to every person who signed my ball.
That time for Memphis Basketball was what most would call the glory days. After Elliot Perry left, Penny Hardaway came along. And then David Vaughan. And then Lorenzen Wright. And then Cedric Henderson. And it was good. NCAA Tournaments. All Americans. March Madness was when Memphis came together to support the home team.
He brought in Derrick Rose, Rodney Carney, Joey Dorsey, Antonio Anderson, Robert Dozier, Darius Washington Jr., Tyreke Evans, Chris Douglas-Roberts and so many others. And the whole city stood behind him, no matter how he carried out his business. If he cursed at his players like they were dogs, if he broke a few rules, if he was a little sleazy and sly, we applauded him for bringing us back to prominence in the national collegiate basketball picture.
But in just 40 minutes last night, Coach Paz let the Tiger Nation know that we are in great, albeit young hands. He nearly shocked Goliath in a game versus number one ranked Kansas, a game we were supposed to lose by over 20. And he has already given us the number one recruiting class in the nation for 2010-2011. And several of those recruits are hometown boys. Ones that want to win a title for the city, to bring home a trophy to Memphis.
Cal got great players. But they left early for the NBA. They caused trouble. They were awesome though. And I ate it all up at the time. But I feel like Memphis Tiger Basketball is about to return to the glory days of the 80's and early and mid-90's. The last four years were great with Cal, and the deep tournament runs. But with Coach Pastner at the reigns, I honestly feel like the best is yet to come.
The perks of living at home post-college graduation...
My birthday was yesterday. 23. A new year right in front of me.
So a new year, a new job, a whole new life almost.
The only thing I've known over the past 23 years has been school and occasional part time work. However, Monday that all changes and the 9-5 daily grind starts for what most likely will be the rest of my life. And I'll be honest with you; I'm a bit scared. Everyone tells me that if I weren't a little scared, they'd be worried, but it'd be a great deal easier if I knew how the map of my life would read from here on. Am I supposed to be a banker for the rest of my life? When am I going to have time to write that bestselling novel I've been thinking up recently? Am I going to be that man that works for the same company my whole life? The guy that gets the really nice watch when he retires with the company logo engraved on the back?
But despite all the sentimental junk, I know that I have to grow up. I can't stay a strapping college hunk all of my life. I have to don the suit and tie. I have to build the 401k. I have to have the wife and 2.3 kids and the nice house in the burbs eventually. It's what I want. But it sure snuck up on me faster than I had anticipated. I don't feel like I should be opening this door quite yet, especially since I have no idea what the hell is behind it. Sure the benefits of working at a bank are nice. But it's still the unknown. And it's scary.
So new times are coming at me fast. Bring them on. I can handle it. The nerves will wear off sooner than later. The wife and kids and stuff will come in time. Twenty years from now things will be great. Twenty-three will be a scary time, but scary stuff is exciting. Rosanne Cash, Johnny's daughter, wrote, "The key to change is to let go of fear." I can do that. I guess I don't really have a choice in the matter now, but I can do it.
I hope I don't turn into the super business man that neglects the more pleasurable things in life. If I let go of the fun parts of my life, then what's left to live for? The almighty dollar? I'm pretty sure as these new life changes come at me I can still maintain the youthful joy that I've learned over the past few years. But I haven't even started yet, so ask me again in a year or so if I'm still having fun with life in addition to making money and settling down. If I'm not, then buy me a beer and tell me to readjust some things so I can.
I'm getting older and growing up, but that doesn't mean the fun is gone. I can't wait to see how this unfolds. Thanks for coming along for the ride every week.
As I headed home early Saturday morning for my grandmother's funeral, I found myself wrestling with what my real emotions on the whole situation were. Was I sad, mad, confused? She was old. Really old. And her health over the past 2 or 3 years was unbelievably bad. It was like somebody just hit a dimmer switch one day, and slowly Rosie began to fade. And it, as you can imagine, was really sad for me and my family.
It was really sad because Rosie was a great woman: a school teacher who drove a motorcycle, a literal "Rosie the Riveter" in WWII and above all a woman with great insight and wisdom. Words really can't do her justice, so I'll stop her story here.
Bottom line is that old people are great. They can give you guidance that stems from real life experience, counsel that is irreplaceable. But the unfortunate thing is that like Rosie, there often comes a time when your elderly family, friends and loved ones start to decline. They stop being that beacon of wisdom that you once looked up to and start becoming more of the family annoyance. They can't do things for themselves. They have to have someone drive them places. They become forgetful, sometimes extremely so. They don't make sense. They stop caring for themselves. Occasionally they become hateful and mean.
So what do you do as a caring family member? Do you move your grandparent or parent in with you? Do you move them to a nursing home? Do you sit and hope they die? Do you ignore the situation and hope it goes away?
Sometimes old people continue kicking it until they are upwards of 80 and 90 years old. They are spry and fun and sharp as a tack. And sometimes they go too soon, before anyone is anywhere near ready to say goodbye. But it seems the growing trend is for these folks to go through that unknown time period where they stop being the person you once loved and cared about so much and become more of a shell with a stranger living inside.
And when they finally do go, it becomes more of a relief than anything. Rosie wasn't really Rosie these past years. The funeral brought the final sense of closure we all were waiting for, but her true "passing on" was a few years back. And unfortunately, I feel like this period before the real death and after the person you once knew has gone can sometimes tarnish your loved one's legacy. Sure you remember the great times, but it's hard to forget the times that person forgot who you were or yelled at you for no reason or told you that you didn't know what was best for them. But I guess you just have to try to remind yourself it wasn't really them talking or just struggle to put it past you. It's hard, but it's necessary.
Hearing my family complain about what to do and how to handle these times is frustrating, but it's not unreasonable. We want our family to live forever as the people we really knew them as, and it is so hard when we realize they can't. So we deal with it in different ways, and sadly, with the complications of nursing homes and assisted living and hospice and similar facilities, we usually just get angry. It's an easy emotion. We can lash out. We don't have to show people we are hurting. We don't have to cry. But eventually the anger stops and you realize you are losing someone special and the gut-wrenching sadness kicks in, and you mourn. And you mourn for awhile. And it's sad. And not much can be said to make it better. And then one day, a fond memory is triggered whether by a song or nature or a book, and everything becomes a little better. You still miss that person, but you can smile and cherish the memories. And it is good.
Don't let the decline of your loved ones consume you with frustration as it often can. It's not an easy thing to do, but honor them by trying. The times will be hard, but remember that this too shall pass.
"It was in a little store a block from our hotel that I bought my first pack of cigarettes. The ones I'd smoked earlier had been Ronnie's -- Pall Malls, I think -- and though they tasted no better or worse than I thought they would, I felt that in the name of individuality I should find my own brand, something separate. Something me. Carltons, Kents, Alpines: it was like choosing a religion, for weren't Vantage people fundamentally different from those who'd taken to Larks of Newports? What I didn't realize was that you could convert, that you were allowed to. The Kent person could, with very little effort, become a Vantage person, though it was harder to go from menthol to regular, or from regular-sized to ultra long. All rules had their exceptions, but the way I came to see things, they generally went like this: Kools and Newports were for black people and lower-class whites. Camels were for procrastinators, those who wrote bad poetry, and those who put off writing bad poetry. Merits were for sex addicts, Salems were for alcoholics, and Mores were for people who considered themselves to be outrageous but really weren't. One should never loan money to a Marlboro menthol smoker, though you could usually count on a regular Marlboro person to pay you back. The eventual subclasses of milds, lights, and ultralights would not only throw a wrench into the works, but make it nearly impossible for anyone to keep your brand straight, but that all came later, along with warning labels and American Spirits"
I was watching CBS Sunday Morning a few weeks back and the featured piece was one on a famous author. Honestly, I can't remember who it was, but I do remember the anchor asking his wife what it was that first drew her to her long time husband when they were students at Princeton or Yale or some other Ivy. She responded by saying that she was walking across campus and saw him leaned against a column of a building smoking a cigarette. She was immediately attracted because he looked suave, sophisticated, mature. And from that point, it was love.
If you watch Mad Men, you see that the three things that permeate every episode are sex, alcohol, and tobacco. But the former two are rarely considered as nasty in today's society as the latter.
Sex in the 1950's was as taboo as you could get. Hell, Lucy and Ricky slept in separate beds. But Ricky loved a good cigarette. So did Lucy. But now in cinema and television, the guy that gets the most girls is king while the people that smoke are almost automatically associated with being the "bad guy." I just finished a novel (Yes. Dan Brown's new one. It's entertaining. Cut me some slack.) where one of the antagonists was always mentioned to be smoking cigarettes, running her tongue over her filmy, yellow teeth. Weird how times change.
So obviously modern culture says that sex is OK. Do it a lot. With a lot of people. This is the message that MTV and other networks send to kids with their sexually driven shows and frequent condom commercials and the like. But on these same networks we see the commercials for Truth, the company seeking to obliterate the tobacco industry. Those commercials are disturbing. It makes you not want to smoke. And while I understand that condoms reduce unwanted pregnancies and STDs, do you think that when nearly every show on prime time has some sortof sexual content, that people who watch it immediately think, "safe sex?" No. They think sex.
But again, in our modern society, it doesn't work the way it does in Mad Men. Alcohol is the forefront of the advertising world, not tobacco. Beer, wine, liquor, whatever. It dominates television, magazines, newspapers, etc. It drives people from high school to late adulthood. Adults crave the drink after work. College kids crave the beer every day. High school kids go out of their way to find someone to buy them booze. And this is fine and dandy with most people outside the uber-traditionalist evangelicals. But alcoholism numbers are increasing. DUI and drunk driving accident incidents are high across the country. Despite the negatives, alcohol is still something our culture drives into the heads of every person within ear shot or eye shot of any form of media. And most people don't think twice about it.
When a person, we'll call him non-smoker, learns that another person, smoker, is a user of cigarettes, there is a stigma that is immediately ingrained in non-smoker's mind. It's that smoker is low class, trashy, someone that wants to have his nicotine fix to make things a little easier. So how is that different than the business man who has his Dewar's everyday upon returning home from work to ease his mind? How is it different than the guy that prowls the bar looking for a one night stand to fill his emotional tank for the week?
