Month: April 2012

A horrible Easter poem..

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Oh easter candy that’s left behind, I hear your faint call, you are on my mind.

It really doesn’t matter what kind that you are, a toffee, a peep or a dark chocolate bar

I walk through the kitchen avoiding your stare, yet my brain calls my sweet tooth with an evil dare.

I have given up sweets for the betterment of health, so taking you now should be done with great stealth.

The kids are still watching, the wifes on high alert. I move into the kitchen and slide you up under my shirt.

The closet, the bedroom or just sneak outside, to get on my bike and go for a ride.

But in the end it’s just us, sitting on the edge of my bed, the bag is half gone, sugar races to my head.

I let out a sigh of orgasmic relief, for in a few moments I will be overcome with great grief.

The guilt oh the guilt, I shall certainly be hung. The youngest has found me, my bell has been rung.

No guiltier man was found by our family jury.  In the end it was worth it, I enjoyed the last Cadbury.

An awful poem written for all you candy junkies such as myself who hate this holiday for the endless amounts of candy that are left in the house afterwards! Bags upstairs, bags downstairs, candy in little bowls and hidden in the cupboards. I crave it I need it, it talks to me, telling me its ok to have just one more!  Who cares if its 250 calories a piece! So what if you can devour three or four pieces at a time! It’s just candy right?  Its only once a year, right? Live a little, have some more, heck if you eat it all then there will be no more and you can go right back to your low-calorie, bland, tasteless diet that you have enjoyed so much over the last year. Just remember, your life insurance doesn’t pay out if its suicide! Self induced candy coma suicide! Fatty!

So my advice to you is, stay strong! Look the other way, let the kids eat it all and when you go to bed tonight and you hear the candy talking to you. Get up, and go make yourself a bowl of oatmeal. Your future diabetes will be in check and Wilfred Brimley will be proud of you.

 

 

 

The High Road

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He stands alone casting gaze upon the widening abyss. Cold, tired and isolated he feels a chill, not of weather setting in around him but for the emotion stirred within. A crooked smile lay’s limply upon his weathered wrinkled face; eyes gleaming from beneath his furrowed brow.

Fists have slowly unfurled, his jaw still aches from what feels to be a month of clenching. Pressure still rides down his back from bearing the weight of sadness, anger, betrayal, hatred and torment yet upright he stands, assured in his resolve.

The road up was scattered with multiple obstacles to climb and overcome. Feeling his patience wane, he struggled yet continued moving forward. Moments came where silence was more than he could bear, yet bear it he did for those who depended upon him to finish his travel. Sleepless nights prevailed; emotions of both undeniable hurt and astonishment at the desperation of spirits left him exhausted. He slipped a time or two but thanks to uplifting thoughts and prayers he never truly faltered. Because of this he knew making it to the top was the only option, even when doubt crept in telling him to stop.

So there he stands, alone casting gaze upon the widening abyss. Having taken the high road he feels immersed in the importance of true friendship, love and patience. Before turning upon heels, climbing back down, he pauses a moment to pray for those either unwanting or unwilling to reach the summit. Hoping someday they reconsider this decision, allowing them a second chance at making the climb and spiritual liberation. It’s a quiet moment of self reflection and hope.

Those who feed upon chaos will inevitably perish during their own frenzy.

Betty…

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Easter Bunny dilemma

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This morning I was asked an important question.

Now being asked a question is not in itself a monumental moment. It happens on a regular basis in our household. The topics do vary and answers are given with a combination of elation, enjoyment, and occasionally frustration. Yet this mornings question was one I am positive has been asked, pondered and answered differently on many Easter mornings. It was also accompanied by an adjoining question that I am positive has been answered with the same zeal.

Dad where does the Easter bunny come from and how come he has eggs?

Studying the backs of my eyelids for an appropriate answer I tried recalling the wealth of Easter knowledge my parents bestowed upon my inquiring mind only to come up empty. Really? I have no answer for my son, nothing of humor or wit to make his little mind giggle at the mere ridiculousness of my statement! Come on, my dad surely had some bullshit story he passed down to me between picking at the Easter ham and two fingers of Black Velvet!

My child, still gazing up at me with wonderment is waiting very patiently for an answer.

What to say, what to say! Do I take the “I’m an educated adult path” and regale him with stories of Mary Magdalene carrying hard-boiled eggs to the tomb of Jesus only to have them turn brilliant (blood) red upon seeing the risen Christ? Or fill his little sponge like mind with old traditions; such as dyed or painted Easter eggs that celebrate springtime and the rejuvenation of man/life? WAIT! What about the darn rabbit? I mean is he old enough to understand the importance of the rabbit in medieval religious art? That it was widely believed the rabbit was in fact a hermaphrodite who could achieve immaculate conception thus tying it for ever to the Virgin Mary? That eggs from birds and rabbits giving birth all tie back to spring and the Vernal Equinox?

He’s still waiting for an answer and I can feel the sweat starting to form on my brow!

I know! I will sit him down at the computer and together we can discover the true meaning of the infamous Easter Bunny. Yes that’s how we will do it, father and son together on a journey, a quest if you will for answers only the infinity of the internet can divulge! Side by side staring into the abyss of information that is all but a keystroke away! Easter morning just him and I, reading, searching and learning while our other children are searching for eggs a n d e a t i n g c a n d y…….. Yeah that’s not gonna work…

No more pondering doe eyes, I can’t take it anymore so I lay the truth upon him..

Son the Easter bunny comes from a big green meadow just below the North Pole and south of Santa’s workshop where it plays all year with other forest creatures from every Disney movie ever created. The Disney forest creatures sing and laugh all day with the Easter bunny while they paint eggs for every child in the world! The tooth fairy is by their sides determining how much candy everyone will receive by the amount of teeth she has collected throughout the year. Then the night before Easter the bunny quietly distributes eggs in hidden places all over the world . He hides them for you to find so when you’ve eaten all the Easter candy from your Easter baskets you can run around burning off your uncontrollable sugar high!

Ok?

son; Ok (shoulders shrugged)

Thinking I am in the clear, and its time for me to have two fingers of Jack Daniels; he then turns and asks matter-of-factly. Dad, how does he get all the eggs and candy around the world?

I tell him the discussion about the time-space continuum will have to wait for another day.

Damn being a lying parent is a pain in the butt!

Is it past my bedtime?

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Saturday evening 2200 hours.

I stare at my computer screen wondering what to write.  My brain carries the sound of white noise as I sip the last of my sleepytime tea. I am showered and fresh, pajamas are on, my hair still dripping slightly. My wife comes up the stairs, inquiring about my 40 mile stare.  I state matter of factly; I can’t think of a thing to write. She replies maybe its past your bedtime, why dont you come to bed.

Hmm maybe???

Wait a minute, have I finally reached the age where I must be tucked neatly into bed before midnight? Jeopardy is over and apparently I can’t seem to make it through Wheel of Fortune! Should I bust out the walker and start bitching about the horrible service after 5pm at the local Denny’s! I can hear myself now; Holy crap they never remember my senior discount!! This cant be so! We are talking about me! King of late night! Ruler of the stars! Howler to the moon! God who surveys the breaking morning sun! Why you have no idea the powers I hold in regards to being an all nighter!! I will be damned if you think for one minute I am ready to turn down my hearing aids, lay on the Apsercreme, drop the old chompers in the Poli-dent and call it an evening!

This cat could party till dawn baby! Thats right, start drinking at 5pm and walk into the house as the sun breaks over the Sierra Mountains, take a little nap and hit it hard again! Oh yeah I was that guy! No beer I hadn’t tasted, no place I wouldn’t party, no time I needed to be home! Yep a regular “Frank the Tank”!  When it came to work I wasnt much different.  Fire the truck up at 3am hit the road and arrive home at 9pm. Grab a little grub, hit the hay and do it all over again! That was me, a regular night owl.  Candle burner from both ends! Night-watchman to society! It was awesome! Plenty of time to sleep when you die! Right? RIGHT???

So what the Hell happened? How in the world did I end up sitting here on a Saturday night with tea? Not even a shot of something in the tea! Just tea! In my pj’s, barefoot, wet, and boring.  How sad is that? No really, how much worse could this possibly be? Gosh, now I am kind of feeling sorry for myself.  Where did my wild side go? Where did it disappear too? I mean I can’t even feel it anymore, its like a dull, numb ache inside.

Oh wait; now I remember.

My wild side slowly evaporated after four kids, a mortgage and multiple responsibilities. Helping a few friends say goodbye to their wild side’s ate away at mine for a while. I closed the door on my wild side when I took on the challenge of becoming a firefighter. The last nail in my wild side’s coffin was after my first few years on the job picking up the after math of many other people’s wild side’s gone horrendously wrong.  Yep the all nighter, wild sided “Frank the Tank” Betty was gone for good.  Good riddance!

So here I sit staring at my computer wondering what to write and suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad that I am in my comfy pajamas with the last drop of sleepytime tea hovering over the bottom of my mug. My family is asleep, quiet has fallen over our house and I am the last one up.

Oh yeah I still got it!