Tag: attitude

Music to my ears..

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It flows through my body like that of water down a granite pathway. Softly soothing, calming, taking away the stress of a long day. Highs and lows all covered in majestic fashion. Reverberation intentional to some, mere irresponsibility to others. Eyes closed, brain throbs, my ears are alive. Sight comes from every direction in the self-imposed darkness. I feel emotions stir, heart rate quickens, my smile expands, the crescendo brings about an orgasmic finish, leaving me discarded, alone, left to the demise of a musicians plunder.

Classical music stirs my soul. Its harmonies leave me bewildered, astounded, in awe of any human being who can create such beauty from an instrument. Strings, woods, brass, it’s all an amazing compilation, sometimes more than the brain can process. Now take 50-100 individuals all poised, ready at the call. At the swing of a conductor’s baton the heavens open so even god can rest away the weary.

As I sit typing away, staring blankly at my computer screen there is Pandora’s classical channel playing in the background. And I laugh, not a hearty laugh mind you, but more of a chuckle or child like giggle. You see I believe some things are inevitable. There are paths we choose and paths that are chosen for us, but all the while, secretly our subconscious has another path for us to venture. It’s a pathway that intersects around and through the first two as we travel through life.

When I was younger, I wanted to play an instrument, it was amazing watching people play so effortlessly. I felt deep down inside, I could also play if given the chance. Yet, it wasnt deemed cool. I struggled, was picked on for my trumpet case, and eventually put it down never to lay my eyes upon it again. Sad really. It was my true instrument of choice. I wanted nothing more than to be able to throw down a little jazz, then roll into a classical compilation with the school band. Yet as I said, I walked away, discouraged, defeated and tired of the bullying.

Later on I tried my hand at guitar. Everyone loves guitar don’t they? Come on, who didn’t drool over the left-handed riffs of Jimi Hendrix? Scream at the torturous slaughter of any guitar in the hands of Angus Young? Sit in absolute awe (if you have ever seen him live you know exactly what I mean by AWE) of Eric Clapton? It was THE instrument to play if you wanted to be cool. The only instrument to have in your hands if you wanted to impress girls! The guitar had the IT factor! I knew it and so did every boy my age who ever laid eyes upon Eddie Van Halen as youg girls threw their bras and underwear on stage during Van Halen concerts! (thank you MTV)Yet it wasnt to be. I could never get my fingers to work right, the chords were always wrong, I could not stay between frets to save my life! I was again discouraged, even with hours of tutoring defeat was inevitable. I succumbed to its nasty taste.

I swore I would never ever listen to classical music! It brought about visions of elderly men driving Cadillacs, smoking cigars, talking about their golf games. Living in Florida. My grandparents listened to it everywhere we went, it was the signature music of the geriatric set! (yes my grandparents drove a Cadillac). As I grew older, my hair was long, my musical tastes publicly were quite predictable. AC/DC. The Who, Pink Floyd, Black Sabbath, Van Halen, Van Haagar, The Police, Eddie Money, Tom Petty, Y&T, Night Ranger, Journey, RUSH to name a few. But secretly, unbeknownst to my fellow long hair rockers I listened to classical. I feared being caught and hid my choices well. Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Bach, Braham’s, they were all there, hidden in my “cassette” case.

The Compact Cassette, also called audio cassette, cassette tape, cassette, or simply tape, is a magnetic tape sound recording format.

Just in case there are a few young ones reading who have no idea what a music cassette is..

Yep they were stuffed in Hank Williams Jr., Conway Twitty, Alabama, and Tammy Wynette cases. Why? Because none of my friends listened to country so any examination of my two sided case would lead you automatically to the “Rock” side. No chance of discovery. I would listen to these tapes on the way home late at night or after school. Anytime I knew there was very little chance of discovery by one of my pals. It would have been instant death to be marked a classical nerd. Sometimes while driving at night I would fantasize I was behind the wheel of a BMW cruising home after the opera with my high society girlfriend. Money is no object! posh, posh, snob, snob, can’t you tell I drive a BMW and listen to classical music! The music of the highly intelligent and wealthy!

So once again here I sit, no money, no BMW, no wealthy socialite girlfriend, no multi million dollar home on the hill overlooking all you little people. But do you know what I have? Classical music. It costs me nothing yet brings me so many rewards.

Yes I am older and I no longer fear reprisal from any individual when it comes to my choices in life. I am sure I fit into the old guy status that most young people associate with classical music. But there is one little difference, in my household all my children play instruments. The oldest, previously voted male student athlete of the year, has played in the school band since 5th grade. Now a sophomore in high school he plays in two sports and the marching band. The middle child plays in school concerts and is looking forward to Junior high so he may join band, wrestling and Cross country. The youngest boy sits at the piano like some idiot savant playing what ever comes to his mind then translated through his fingers. strangely everything he plays sounds like a rehearsed piece. My wife and I sit in awe some days as he plays for 15 minutes non stop.

Classical music, all forms of music now stream from my home.

So it seems our paths have intersected. Generations past and present have worked hard to make a change. It’s ok to be what you want to be, play the instrument you want to play, listen to the music you choose to hear.

That my friends is music to my ears…

A Country Boy Can Survive

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My life is filled with a plethora of interesting topics, filling my wordy coffers and yet tonight as I stare endlessly at my computer screens flickering abyss I find only one thing to expend my energy upon.

A Country Boy Can Survive.

Thats right the 1982 smash hit from legendary singer/songwriter Hank Williams jr. A Country Boy Can Survive was our friday night, lets party and do it right anthem.  Not only did it hold some form of misguided meaning for each and every one of us, but it was one of the few songs ever played that guaranteed all of us would instantaneously drop what ever we were doing and break into chorus.  Country’s version of Grease! We sang at the top of our lungs, the louder the better!  If a bottle of Jack Daniels didnt emerge before the second chorus, one of us had to go into town, obtain said bottle and reemerge with shot glasses for all as we crooned over the melodious ballad all over again. We were out of tune, some would even say tone-deaf, we were drunk and life was good!

I believe that song is as relevent today as it was 30 years ago. Take a moment to peruse this little gem of a story put to music.

The preacher man says it’s the end of time
And the Mississippi River she’s a goin’ dry
The interest is up and the Stock Markets down
And you only get mugged
If you go down town

Seriously, all preacher men have been saying we are near the end of days and as far as the Mississippi River goes, the environmentalists have been crying about that ever since Mark Twain wrote about her in 1883! Dont even get me started on the foolish travesty that continues to make up our money hungry stock market. Occupy Wall Street no way! You gonna get mugged!

I live back in the woods, you see
A woman and the kids, and the dogs and me
I got a shotgun rifle and a 4-wheel drive
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

I think about how wonderful it would be to “live back in the woods you see”, especially with the “woman and the kids and the dogs and me”. I do own “a shotgun, a rifle and a four-wheel drive”.  Just not sure if that is all the pre-requisite needed for a country boy to survive.

I can plow a field all day long
I can catch catfish from dusk till dawn
We make our own whiskey and our own smoke too
Ain’t too many things these ole boys can’t do
We grow good ole tomatoes and homemade wine
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

Crap I need to know how to plow a field all day long? Thank goodness I can catch catfish from dusk till dawn.  Now I am not sure but the last time I checked growing your own smoke could get you 4-months to 6 years! And well we wont even begin to discuss the legal ramification of moonshining! Can you say TAXMAN?

Because you can’t starve us out
And you can’t make us run
Cuz we’re them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say grace and we say Ma’am
And if you ain’t into that we don’t give a damn

I have never seen a starving hillbilly, and the big ones don’t need to run, they would just as soon shoot your city slickin butt than chase you down! My boys know how to say grace and Ma’am is really just a nicer way of saying Bitch isn’t it?  Well rumor has it anyways…

We came from the West Virginia coal mines
And the Rocky Mountains and the and the western skies
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trot-line
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

Now for some unknown reason the verse below always had us on our toes hollering like a bunch of starving alley cats!

I had a good friend in New York City
He never called me by my name, just hillbilly
My grandpa taught me how to live off the land
And his taught him to be a businessman
He used to send me pictures of the Broadway nights
And I’d send him some homemade wine

But he was killed by a man with a switch blade knife
For 43 dollars my friend lost his life
Id love to spit some Beechnut in that dudes eyes
And shoot him with my old 45
Cause a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

Yeah! Thats what I am talking about! No damn cops needed there, just shoot the man right after he starts squealing about all the Beechnut spit you just splattered into his eyes! WHOOOOOOO! Thats country boy, that’s what it’s all about right? After those two verses the song just kind of wanders on, anyways we were always to busy high fiving each other to even notice that ole Hank threw in a little shout out to California!

Cause you can’t starve us out and you can’t make us run
Cuz we’re them old boys raised on shotgun
And we say grace and we say Ma’am
And if you ain’t into that we don’t give a damn

So true, once you been raised on shotgun it really is hard to give a damn about anything!

We’re from North California and south Alabam
And little towns all around this land
And we can skin a buck; we can run a trot-line
And a country boy can survive
Country folks can survive

So there it is, A Country Boy Can Survive, undoubtedly one the most recognizable country, get drunk, kick the crap out of someone, American redneck songs! So why tonight of all nights am I so infatuated with reliving my youths past digressions?  What can I possibly see in a 30-year-old song that I never considered before tonight?  How could I have possibly allowed myself to lower the learning curve of all my readers with this hillbilly drivel?

Well its like this.

Tonight as I stared endlessly into my computer screens flickering abyss, I heard a noise coming from across the hall.  It was loud, grainy, crackling and off-key, yet I recognized this noise right away.  You see inside this noise, confined in its purity was the vocal etchings of an eleven year old boy.  This eleven year old boy had finished his homework, cleaned up his dishes and traveled upstairs with only one thing upon his mind.  To shower.  Apparently when one steps into the shower, one believes they are in fact Hank Williams Jr.  With all the passion a country kid can muster while buck naked in the shower, my eleven year old son busted out A Country Boy Can Survive.  It was off-key, he sounded like a wounded rabbit, and judging from the rapid footstep I heard from behind the door he was dancing to it as well. Yet he sung it from the heart and he knew every single word.  For a brief moment, by himself he was a star.  And for his dad, eavesdropping in on the impromptu concert.  He was my hero.  Another generation will be swinging from the Grand Ole Opry chandelier! Lord have patience..

5 things I despise

theycallmebetty4 Comments

5 things I despise

Recently (10 minutes ago) I decided it was time to purge a little anger.  A little societal frustration.  I usually do this through a singular rant but today I have chosen to drop 5 mini rants upon your superior minds.  I am hoping to not be alone in these little idiosyncrasy’s as I have always felt discussion is good for the soul or at least the conscience.

So with my head held high, my britches pulled tight and my jaw squarely locked into place here they are…..

5. People who cut in line because they believe they are more important than you.

While waiting patiently for the car in front of me to finish fueling there always seems to be some A-Hole circling the islands like a shark waiting for the right time to strike.  Without regards for his own personal safety, or the feelings of the twenty other vehicles waiting in line. This moron inevitably will come in from the opposite direction and try to force his way in as the last patron is leaving.  This never works as my truck is rather large and intimidating.  I am always scowled at or given a gesture of the highest moral ranking upon exit of my vehicle.  To which I respond the same as I would one of my children.  Have some manners and wait your turn, you are no better than anyone else.

4. The California stop.

It called a STOP SIGN!!!!! Stop means stop! It doesn’t mean think about it, it’s not a suggestion for you to ponder while chatting it up on your cell phone as you go barreling through the intersection!  Dont you dare throw your hands up in disgust as I come to a full and complete stop either.  I will just drive slower to the next intersection, in fact I will continue to slow down and more closely follow all the rules of the road just to frustrate you.  Why do I do this? Because its like this you lackadaisical idiot, in the end if you don’t “STOP” someone will end up injured or killed! And statistics show it wont be you.  

3. Parents who make excuses for their childs obvious poor behavior!

Yes its ok for little Timmy to express himself, but when that involves your 8-year-old telling my 7-year-old to F@#k Off! We have a serious problem on our hands!  If you don’t have the crumpets to reprimand your child I do!  If my child were to speak that way I would hope you would reprimand him quickly and decisively! If that doesn’t sit well with you than politely remove yourself and your child from my inner circle of friends and acquaintances.  I feel as though we as a society have forgotten in the end it takes a village to raise a child. 

2.   Upselling

I am a tightwad! I didn’t used to be, but my glorious wife over the last ten years has shown me the light.  Because I am a tightwad, making a large purchase is a homework driven, educational process that leads down many paths in regards to my purchase.  My point being, when I walk through your door to make a purchase I already know what I want and exactly how much I am going to pay.  Dont play me for a fool, don’t shove useless purchase contracts in front of me and make sure you listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth!  If I tell you I don’t want the 5 year service plan then STOP.  If I make mention the added receiver for only $29.99 is something I am not interested in STOP!  I am blunt, I will let you know everything I need up front, so please just STOP. Because if you dont my next STOP is your competitor.

1.   The little twirp at the grocery store that wishes to “help” me out with my groceries!

Hey junior, look at me, no really look at me! I am a 45-year-old, 188 pound man standing 5’9 who can currently run an 8 minute mile and curl 75 pound dumbbells! I am reasonably sure that I can carry my two little bags of groceries in one hand and your scrawny, “Wheres Waldo” beanie wearing ass in the other! I know you are just doing your job, but somebody needs to train you a little better in the area of qualifying customers.  Someday when you have become my age I hope you will demand the same respect. 

So there it is! A little bolder than in times past, if I have offended anyone I do apologize.   But the way I see it the word unspoken is obviously the word most misunderstood. 

Let me know if you agree or disagree with any of my 5.  Also let me know what your 5 things are that you despise.  Sometimes they are funny, sometimes they are serious but in the end they are what makes us who we are, and that is very interesting. 

Versatile Blogger Award

theycallmebetty7 Comments

I haven’t had an orthodox career, and I’ve wanted more than anything to have your respect. The first time I didn’t feel it, but this time I feel it, and I can’t deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me!”

You really like me………

I have been nominated for the Personal Blogger Award by Vanessa Chapman http://vanessa-chapman.com 

This is an award bloggers award to each other as a way of showing appreciation for the blogs they enjoy. I am humbled and honored.

(I plagiarized the rules from Vanessa as I feel there is no reason to re-invent the wheel.)

The rules for accepting this award are as follows:

1. Thank the award-givers and link back to them in your post. Easy-Done

2. Share 7 things about yourself. Ok hope I don’t scare anyone, but easy-done.

3. Pass this award along to 15 other bloggers. Fail! Only could nominate 13! 😦

4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award. Will let them know as soon as I’ve posted this

Seven things about myself;

  1. I am 45 years old and I can’t wait for retirement. When I refer to retirement it is not in the sense of me walking away from a career, gold watch in hand to sit on some god forsaken island, smoking pot until I die.  On the contrary, I cant wait to start the second half of my life.  To re-invent myself and live life twice.  I have had a stellar first half, the second half can only get better.
  2. I can walk into a burning building, rescue people from a crushed or damaged vehicle, repel off a 5 story building with confidence and walk under a ladder without fear of superstitious reprisal.  But I cannot, and I mean no way, no how can I stand being in the proximity of a spider.  Those eight legged little freaks get me every time.  You want to hear a full-grown 200 pound man jump and scream like a 6th grade school girl then toss a black widow my direction.
  3. My ability to tell the dimensions of something from sight are frustratingly astounding.  Spatial relations are my thing and I am borderline “rainman” about it.  Have a picture to hang, I can tell you one side is off 1/2 inch any direction just by looking at it.  Just had your new bookshelves installed, I am the guy who within 20 seconds of being in the room knows exactly where the carpenter “cheated” or “shorted” you on material.  It makes me crazy and it makes my friends crazy as well.
  4. Scary movies are stupid and a waste of time.  I laugh through them which annoys everyone.  I can tell exactly what is going to happen when it is going to happen. 
  5. 1950’s pin-up girls are awesome.  You can have your skinny, anorexic, vegan, boney butt tooth picks.  I like my women with natural curves, and clothing that leaves something to the imagination. 
  6. When I was 10/11 while walking up my long driveway (we lived in the country) a car pulled up with a creepy guy in it who asked me if I wanted a ride.  Then told me to get in the damn car. He had one hand on the wheel and one in his trousers.  Thank god I had enough sense to run.  I still have nightmares about that guy even at 45. 
  7. I am terrified I will fail as a father.  I put up a good front, but deep down inside I always feel as though failure is right around the corner.  It’s why I write this blog.  It allows me to laugh, vent, and share my experiences.  I can look back on it when I am feeling low and remind myself of all the good I have done with my children.  I know they will laugh looking back on all this as adults.

15 bloggers to pass this award along too.

Soshi-Tech- http://soshitech.com

More valuable information in one blog than should legally be allowed in the states of California and Utah.  Everyone else is OK!

A Detailed House- http://adetailedhouse.com

I love houses and the fine art of decorating them in some of the finest trim.  If you are a closet design geek such as myself who also thinks you can take on any project, than this is the blog for you. The photography is very well done also.

Raising a Realist- http://raisingarealist.com

Scott is a mild-mannered high school English teacher. This blog is his attempt to capture all of his daughters moments.  As a parent of four, I can relate with his tag line. “126 kids but only one will wipe my but when I am old”

Mayahood- http://mayahoodblog.com

Adventure seeker, world traveler turned mother.  She has a mixture of her views on motherhood along with guest posts.  It is an entertaining blog.

Bucket List Publications- http://lesleycarter.wordpress.com

This one is near and dear to me as it is a blog that completely follows the premiss of getting out there and doing all those things you keep putting off.  They even pick some of your bucket list suggestions and through donations make it happen for you.  It’s quite the premise and I enjoy reading it immensely

A Confederacy of Spinsters- http://confederacyofspinsters.com

This is one of my favorites!  Three women from Texas, each one taking a turn writing about life trials and tribulations all under pseudo names.  Grace, Mae and Kate.  Its is always witty, relevant and fun!  I look forward to new postings they way one waits at the window for a long-awaited package from UPS. 

Musings of a stay at home Jewish Father- http://stayathometatte.wordpress.com

Another blog dedicated to a male role model at home raising his child.  Its funny and real with great pictures as he chronicles the day-to-day life of a stay at home dad.

In My Opinion- http://diane-ownes.com

Diane is on a quest to ask a different, relevant question everyday for a year. Interesting concept and I find the answers entertaining.

Debut Dad- http://debutdad.wordpress.com

Brenden is a first time dad who lives in Australia.  He blogs about juggling the changes in his life with the birth of their first-born child. Good luck Brenden and keep em coming. 

Vanessa Chapman- http://vanessa-chapman.com

Vanessa nominated my blog,  and although she is already nominated I enjoy her blog and look forward to every new edition she puts forth.  From superstition to the purchase of a new pair of boots.  She is funny and I find her blog to be a good way to blow a little time at work! Ha!

365 trinkets- http://365trinkets.wordpress.com

This blog is a reminder of how much crap we accumulate as adults.  His mission? To get rid of 365 trinkets he has stored as treasured keepsakes over a 25 year period.  The blog revolves around taking pictures of each one (for memories sake) then getting rid of said item. 

maggiemaeijustsaythis- http://maggiemaeijustsaythis.wordpress.com

A blog dedicated to writing poetry and personal trials and tribulations.  I enjoy the freedom with which she expresses herself.

Take a shower- http://takeashower.wordpress.com

A blog about Eloise and the raising of her five children.  She writes about the past and present, reflecting on the moments in time with the raising of her five children.

I am sorry to say I only have 13 to nominate for this award.  I fail!  But the thirteen I have chosen I follow with great intent.  I enjoy many other blogs but they are new to my collection and I havent gotten the chance to know them well enough yet for a nomination. 

Vanessa you were right, I also anguished over my choices.

Rain

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Falling from the sky at an incredible rate of speed, this miniscule object hits the ground with a tremendous splash. Others follow blindly and before long it feels as though you cannot hide from their obvious presence. If try to pass by them, follow you they will. North to south, fast or slow, they come at you with incredible diligence or smother you with a windless drive. We need their presence in our lives and while some welcome them with a smile and open arms, others curse their arrival. Always at the most inopportune moment. Either way, by the look on your face and the discouraged look on everyone elses face around you there is no denying its presence.

Rain

We need rain to survive. I personally relish its arrival and can sit for hours watching it out my second story window. The view is fantastic. I peer across our farmland witnessing the power of Mother Nature as she rolls out of the foothills onto our flat plain. The waves of water or sheets of rain paint the landscape with a variety of colors, shades and light. These are the pictures of earths never-ending beauty I wish to take with me when I perish.

Yet, as I watch the news I am left dumbfounded by the leading the stories. We have not had any winter yet, the fields are dry, the hills are barren and we are nearer to spring then fall. One would assume people to be dancing in the streets over the prospect of an upcoming three-four day storm. But what I see is just the opposite. Our newscasters, field operatives if you will, have taken the time out of their busy morning to locate, or track down every “nay” sayer on the street. Apparently we are so self-absorbed in our personal lives we have forgotten the simple teaching from grammar school. Sun= growth, rain= hydration, the two combined through our planets cycles help keep us alive. Yet here they are relishing in their apparent 15 seconds of fame letting us all know how inconvenient this rain is to their particular life on this very day.

I bet if you were to track down the very same people during the summer months. Then ask them how they feel about the month of scorching temps we have endured, they would wine and snivel about how inconvenient it was for them to be suffering through such egregious temperatures!
Are you kidding me?

Hey idiot here’s a little hint to help you understand a simple basic concept. It rains/snows in the winter, and its warm/hot in the summer! BAMM, like that I have solved all your problems. You now have nothing to complain about in the weather department. You can go forth and plan your wardrobe accordingly, put your garden or flowers on a feeding cycle and even plan family vacations all around this little educational tidbit!

For fun let me expand on that just a titch. Some winters (get ready for this is a doozy) it rains more than others! (I know you are scratching your head in confusion) Some times during summer it is hotter than years previous! WOOOO HOOOO! Mind Blower huh? And sometimes (sit down you moron, I don’t want you to pass out at this revelation) during spring we receive light showers!! I know amazing huh?

So next time the camera gets shoved into your face and some plastic looking, game show host pronouncing, over educated, self-absorbed glory hunter asks you how you feel about the recent weather. Look them dead in the eye and expound your love for all-weather, then politely remind the field reporter all weather helps our planet to grow and survive. Finish him off with the complimentary; what a stupid question! Dont fall into the complaining trap, especially about something you can’t control.

For those who may have noticed I haven’t commented about actually having to stand in the rain. Or blanketed you with witticisms about driving in the rain, getting groceries in the rain, picking kids up in the rain or walking to your car in the rain. It’s because, I get it! Being wet and cold is no fun but it’s all part of living on this glorious planet. There is nothing you can do about it. Purchase a good umbrella or slip into an excellent rain coat! You don’t have to like it, but please don’t make the rest of us miserable because you have chosen to become “Debbie Downer”.

Now go over to your window and appreciate what ever view our world has to offer you. Because no matter where you are I challenge you to find something beautiful staring right back at you.

Look, It’s a double rainbow……

I want whats on the picture!!!

theycallmebetty2 Comments

Rant Alert! Rant Alert! Rant Alert! Rant Alert! Rant Alert! Rant Alert! Rant Alert!

I am absolutely frustrated and annoyed! I am not sure with whom I am more perturbed, the victims of my tirade or myself for having lived so blindly! Disgusted I have allowed my senses to remain muted by placing my head in the sand as that of the terrified Ostrich!

Since I was a small child I have been conditioned, groomed, some would even say brain washed into believing this is the way things should be! As a parent I have furthered the prophecy by mirroring the exact same thoughtless teachings! Allowing my very own children to gaze upon these fruitless offerings with joy and appreciation! And for what? Nothing I tell you absolutely nothing! It is time for my children’s eyes to opened! For all of our eyes to widen allowing us to gaze upon the fraud that has befallen our lives for generations! So everyone be ready as I am calling for a revolution, an uprising, a stand against the all-powerful lie that has befallen our culture!

Have I peaked your interest? Are you curious what has Betty in a tizzie?

Have you ever received a burger that looked like this from McDonald’s? Have you? I dare you to tell me that any point and time you walked into a McDonald’s and graciously welcomed a burger onto your platter of feasting that resembled anything remotely like the picture of perfection currently adorning your eyes!

Now I believe that burger looked more like this one, huh? Flat, tasteless, no melty cheese, no bounty of lettuce and tomatoes, no harvest of onion or layering of juicy pickles! Nope just a flat, nuked, dry over priced burger! In McDonald’s defense this is one of their specialty burgers so Cheers! Because all of McDonald’s other burgers are sub prime in comparison!

Now being one to not leave Mickey D’s (as the hip crew refers to it), alone on the hook! How about Burger King? The name alone should instill a “burgery” confidence shouldnt it? Say it slowly and let it resonate upon the lips. B-U-R-G-E-R K-I-N-G… See, marketing genius! It lets you know right away that they are the king of burgers! All other burgers should pale in comparison. Just the mere thought of a hamburger from the King of Burgers should automatically send you and your family scurrying through their doors! Right?

Oh man, that looks sooooooo good! Doesnt it? The Flame broiled Whopper, the epitome of a pulled straight from the fire, into your mouth, dripping with goodness hamburger. MMMMMMMMMmm. It COULD actually be the King of Burgers.

Whoops! Yet here again is what you get instead. Boy oh boy I just cant wait to wrap my quivering, hungry lips around that little ball of compressed grease! Looks a little tall for my liking do you think I could get someone to stand on it again so it will flatten out a little more? Is there a special on iceberg lettuce butts? Because it appears I have received the entire shipment of white garden cartilage on my particular sandwich!

Hmmm?? What about Jack in the box? I really can’t say too much about “Jack”. We all know what we get when we pull into a Jack in the Box. There are so many items on the menu it is very clear the restaurant chain is built around the late night crowd trying to sober up with some old-fashioned microwaved grease. The burgers are bland the tacos are a great hangover cure and the egg rolls are, well lets just say they actually do match their pictures. Any place that serves a burger called the “Ultimate Cheeseburger” which consists of meat, cheese, meat, cheese and bread. definitely knows their place in the hamburger sales chain of survival. Jack’s hamburgers look like crap on the menu and arrive looking only slightly better in person. Wow I guess that’s a plus? So Jack, you get a reprieve from my snotty tirade for being only slightly dishonest in you truthful sales approach.

Onward and upward, lets also take a little moment in time to recognize one of the industry leaders! The burger that not only is reported “largest” fast food burger but the highest in caloric intake! The behemoth, the mantabulous, the dare I say it “sexiest” hamburger advertised today. The Six Dollar Burger from Carls Jr. When I see this monstrosity I feel as though all my burger craving whoa’s have been answered. My stomach can feel a sense of hunger relief just by gazing at an illustrious picture of the “god” like creation. It screams flavor, it wreaks of creativity, it yearns to be devoured by every man, woman and child in North America! It looks like no other burger on the fast food market today! In the world of I want it fast and I want it now, this burger is darn near perfect!

;

Oh my goodness I think I just drooled a little on the monitor. I may have actually caused a blood clot to break loose stopping my heart for a few seconds. It is after all a cardiac arrest in a box and yet it calls to me. Of all the other misleading burgers I described today the Six Dollar Burger is the only one that comes close to the advertised picture.

;

Ha! Ok maybe not, but they definitely give it the old college try. The only thing redeemable about this blot of meat, cheese and iceberg lettuce shrapnel is its huge! So once you get past the appearance it’s all meat sweats and a painfully full stomach for you!

So America I ask you. When are we going to say enough is enough? When are we going to demand the burger we ordered from the brilliantly displayed billboard behind the counter! At what point are we going to quit frequenting these establishments who run on lies? These towers of carnage built to lure us in for a delicious meal only to be met by charlatans, hustlers, and con artists. All of them trying to persuade you into purchasing the Ferrari of burgers. Only to have you witness a Ford Pinto roll out on your plate! The worst part is you accept the Ford Pinto, and you accept it with a smile, then cruise it around as though it were a Ferrari! Why? Because when you have been told the Ford Pinto is a Ferrari for generations its hard to acknowledge within yourself that you may have been fed a load of garbage and are in fact stuck with a Ford Pinto after all! So shame on you America, shame on you fast food restaurants, shame on you all for allowing this travesty of culinary proportions to be perpetrated over and over again until we become conditioned to belive that crap is ok!

The cycle breaks now. Every time Betty goes into a fast food restaurant, Betty is going to open the box, unwrap the burger and ask for the burger to please look like the picture. If it doesn’t happen Betty is going to ask for the money back! I beg of you all, please do the same! Quit accepting crap, giving up your hard-earned money for crap, and teaching your children its ok to throw good money away on something that is nothing like you ordered! Something as simple as a hamburger is letting your children know sub standard is OK! And that’s just wrong.

NO MORE CRAP!!! NO MORE LIES!!!

;it

Humilities heavy hand…

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He sat there, head hung down, dejected, feeling a mixture of sadness and anger. A year had passed since he took up this new endeavor, four months had passed since his last attempt. He and his partner strolled slowly from the arena of play trying their hardest not to make eye contact with anyone who had noticed what had just happened. Through the gate was all he could think about, lets just make it through the gate. He passed another contender on the way out and gave her the obligatory “good luck”. He meant it, his partner made eye contact with hers and they both made a feeble acknowledgment. He wanted to stay and watch as she had also just recently taken up this endeavor. Her partner was definitely ready but you could see the nervousness in her eyes. Yet he couldn’t bear to watch, he just needed to get outside and take in some fresh air, they both needed too.

As he cleared the opening to the coliseum they both took a long deep breath. Nothing had gone as planned. They both knew it, and no words need be spoken. It was hard on them both for they practiced day after day, working hard honing their skills. His partner was coming along quite nicely, yet he had only shimmering moments of light. His play was good, but to get in sync with his younger partner meant he needed to be better. Running, sprinting, cutting back and forth, they both were getting into incredible shape. His partner had gone from a small scrappy fighter to a muscle-bound machine of might and will. He as well expended a tremendous amount of effort in the arena of play. Grunting, sweating, working hard, eventually shrinking down from a bloated toad to a balanced quicker moving adversary.

Together the two of them had days where either was discouraged and upset with the other. Yet they continued to work as a team time after time. Some days his partner would be so angry with his obvious lack of performance, things would become physical. This over zealous attitude earned neither one of them any tangible successes. Yet the next day they would be back at it, working hard, knowing they had it in them to be the very best. He secretly admired his younger partner, for her skills were lightning fast and aggressive. He always felt bad when he left her hanging with no rebound or solid attempt to repair the damage he had done. He was glad she stayed by his side though, always willing to make things better on the next go around.

Two weeks to go and they both were feeling some synchronicity! They were excited and felt accomplishment was right around the corner. They trained harder than before and after each practice he had great words of encouragement for his partner. They were both happy. They could see the light. One week to go, practices were steadily improving, successes were becoming more frequent. Two days to go a battle plan was set, confidence was on the rise, everyone could feel a solid run was in their future.

The day finally arrived, both rose early and ate big healthy breakfasts. Equipment was cleaned and loaded for an on time departure. Arriving at the coliseum brought a sense of calm to one, excitement to the other. The calm one walked in to check on registration, scout out the facility and the competition, while the excited one stayed behind hoping to reign in all that energy she held inside. The day went along smoothly, contenders were doing quite well and the two of them could feel their time was near. They donned their equipment and both strolled into the practice area ready for a solid warm up. She was doing everything right. Her roll outs were solid, her cut backs crisp, her slides on point she was ready! Her nervousness had ceased, her head was held high and confidence was at a premium.

Funny thing about confidence, sometimes it can turn into nervousness. He had all the confidence in the world, he showed a good face, but as with the times before, he just couldn’t turn off his brain. And that is the death of any good athlete. Its one thing to know how to play the game, to know how and why you move here or there on the field of battle. To be able to stay calm and collected when things go sideways, and in this sport that is the main direction of choice. But if you can’t turn off your brain and just trust your instincts you will fail. If you can’t turn of your brain and trust in your partner you will never succeed. Thusly your partner will never trust you, leaving you both with nothing but failure. This is what he had done to sabotage the team again. All the work, all those practices, all the trust he had gained in his partner. All the trust his partner had gained in him. All gone the moment they crossed that line and the two of them made that first “almost perfect” cut right in the center of the arena. You would have thought making a great first cut would have calmed him down, left him at ease, allowed him to relax, but instead he felt none of that, why? because he couldn’t turn off his brain and just let things happen. Too bad, too bad for them both…

And so he sat there, head hung down, dejected, feeling a mixture of sadness and anger…

I wrote this about Cassie and I. We both compete in the well-known sporting event of “Cutting” . My partner (Cassie) is a gorgeous 4-year-old quarter horse who I adore. She is athletic, fast and incredibly kind. She is also very forgiving. She has been trained very well, she loves her “job” and I know in my heart one day we will win a lot of events. She deserves too for all she has put with on my behalf.

I wrote this in a nondescript fashion because I feel it relates to all disciplines. If you are not dedicated and willing to accept your failures you will never succeed. Sometimes those failure are laughable, sometimes they are painful, sometimes they are embarrassing. But whats important is you learn from them each and every time. For no one is perfect at anything the very first time they try something. My wife put it best when she said; Honey the very first time as a fireman you walked into a structure fire, did you perform every task perfectly? Of course the answer was no. How many fires did it take before you started to fully understand what was happening, improving your outcome of success? I replied MANY. She looked at me a stated quietly; same thing…….

My son also rides in this sport, and is the reason I wrote this little synopsis of yesterdays events. You see sometimes in life we learn from the ones we teach. Even if that “one” is eleven years old. I wrote it on my sons behalf as a reminder to myself that with hard work comes great reward and sometimes even when everything feels like its going right it all falls apart and failure is imminent. Usually at no ones fault but your own. We learn from failure, we learn from embarrassment and most of all when we are done spewing these little virtues to our children, we learn from them as well. For as I left the arena yesterday, upset and dejected my eleven year old son walked right up to us both and said; Its Ok dad, you guys will get’ em next time. I thought your cuts were great! Then with a big smile on his face he told me he loved me and gave Cassie a kiss on the forehead.

My eyes watered up a little at the thought he had actually been listening to my little gems of wisdom. My heart filled with pride knowing he felt comfortable enough in our relationship as father and son to expound my own words upon me. As he walked away with me in tow to watch the rest of the competitors I couldn’t help but think to myself.

I think he just “Eddie Haskell’ed” me. Little bugger! He outscored me today and I know he is going to remind me of this fact over and over again!

Oh well, he deserves too. Plus there is always next months show……

One of my better quotes; I think it fits in this case.

I would rather work with five guys who have tried and failed miserably at something one time in their life, than one guy who has succeeded at everything.

Betty…..

When did we become “Lord of the Flies”

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RANT ALERT…RANT ALERT….RANT ALERT….RANT ALERT…..RANT ALERT………….

Betty is fired up again!  Its time for my weekly rant!!

So America please, please help me to understand..

When did it become socially unacceptable to reprimand your child in public? What exact moment in time did parents across this great nation suddenly stand up and say No I will not sternly redirect my childs poor behavior in public anymore! Who allowed this vicious and catastrophic lapse in judgement to prevail? When did we as parents decide that instead of reprimanding our children we would shrivel away into a corner becoming subservient to our children? Why have we allowed ourselves to fear the acronym CPS (Child Protective Services)? We have all heard the horror stories of a mom reprimanding their child in public only to be greeted by CPS later that evening at home because some well-intentioned busy body turned them in for child abuse!  CPS is for children who are neglected and abused, not children who are held to a standard of behavior in public!

I reprimand my children when we are out and about! If they are not living up to my expectations of good behavior, I let em have it!  If you Mr/Mrs John G Public don’t like me telling my kids to knock it off, then just keep moving buddy! Also after I tell my kids to knock it off, don’t you dare mean mug me then chine in with your little “it will be all right” statement directed towards my kid!

STORY TIME…..

One time at COSTCO while standing in line to check out.  My son wouldnt quit pestering me for a smoothie from the snack bar.  I asked him to stop, he proceeded to become belligerent and snotty, eventually becoming indignant about my request for him to stop asking.  When I retorted with a stern; I asked you to stop and you didn’t, therefore we are not buying smoothies now. He began to cry, at which point the gentlemen behind me threw me a look as though I were the Anti-Christ and stated; Its Ok little buddy since daddy made you cry maybe he will buy you some candy instead.  WHAT!  What freaking planet are you from?  Where do you live that it will ever be ok to punish bad choices with rewards?  This is an individual that clearly doesn’t understand the parent child relationship.  I showed the respect he lacked, politely declining his obvious request for redemption from my demoralizing behavior.

Now lets discuss reprimanding other people’s children with that last example clearly not meeting the appropriate criteria.

Does anybody remember the adage; It takes a village to raise a child?

Every year on mothers/fathers day I get a card for my parents, then over dinner, I say a quiet little thank you to all the moms and dads that watched over me as if I were their own.  I even thank the ones I never knew!  The adults that reigned me in when no else was looking! We have been extremely blessed to be surrounded by friends and family who are not afraid to reprimand our children when they are out of line.  As parents we just can’t be everywhere, every time one of our little angels is mis-behaving.

Listen I get it, in today’s atmosphere we try our hardest to limit our children’s exposure to undesirable people.  But when a stranger asks your child to quit running down the isles of the grocery store because they might run into someone and get hurt! Guess what mom/dad? Take the cue and tell your little Jackie Joyner-Kersey to quit running around like an idiot before they hurt someone or themselves! Dont turn on your fellow-man and rip their head off with a barrage of undesirable words in front of your child because you feel slighted! Dont you dare start slinging the four letter words because your fragile self-esteem can’t handle a little parenting help.  It doesn’t make you a bad parent when someone else steps in to guide your child from certain disaster! But if you decide to take that path please realize you have empowered your little demon further.  Now they know they can do what they want when they want in public because you are going to stand up and defend them instead of correcting them! Also you have let little “chucky” know its ok to disrespect another adult! See how that works out for you when they become teenagers. Good luck pal!

Oh yeah, another thing…

Lordy lordy, mercy sakes alive, heaven forbid some well-intentioned friend says something to your out of control little devil eyed monster!  That alone will get you a much deserved berating on Facebook! The shame of it all…

I personally have no problem what so ever telling someone elses kid to knock it off.  To clean up their language, act responsibly in public.  I do not fear CPS or a knock on the door from the parenting police! I will always stand up for what is right and admonish what is wrong with parenting by todays lack of standards.  But what I will never do, is stand idly by as some out of control heathen runs over grandma with a shopping cart because dad/mom don’t have the balls to stand up to their own kids…

I am hoping I am not in the minority, because some days it sure feels that way…

Death?

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It hangs over us like a giant weight, looming, lurking, waiting in a distant future.  An ominous presence whose shadow is cast upon us all at the most unsuspecting moment.  Many do not fear it, yet most never wish to meet.  Some say it is the gateway to another life while others believe it is a portal to hell.

Death

Death is defined as the action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.

Death is all around us, we see it everyday.  Some may turn their heads from it as though it were a light to bright to see, while others will turn towards it as if looking into a bewildering unknown future. Turn on the television or go to the movies, we are greeted by Hollywood’s many versions of death.  Kind and gentile is the picture of grandpa drifting off to sleep or in your face with blood, gore and dismemberment. Death resonates in our minds and stirs our imaginations.  You can say it doesn’t bother you to watch zombie beheadings while a teenage girl is raped and mutilated.  Tell yourself over and over it’s just make-believe.  Take the dare from a friend and sit through vile evisceration at the hands of a producers sick and twisted vision.  Either way you are still watching death as it erodes your brains sensitive subconscious.

Headline news almost always starts out with a story of life lost.  A dog stolen and thrown out of a moving car.  A child taken from its parents in the middle of the night only to be found months later as an abandoned corps in the woods. Children shot to death by a deranged student, or a family bludgeoned, then left for dead as the house is torched.  News headlines are there for us every second of every minute of everyday. The vile disgusting side of human nature shoved in our faces through our televisions, phones, laptops and I-pads.  Stop just for a moment and think to yourself; since I woke up this morning how many times have I heard the news speak in regards to death?

Now before you think I have gone off the deep end, please hear me out.  I am in no way suggesting we stop watching the news.  I am also not suggesting that we quit watching television or the movies. The message I am trying to get across is why are we allowing these images to happen?  Why are we doing this to ourselves and our children?  Why do we feel the need as a society to always push that outer envelope of emotion?  What drives us to move farther away from moral values into destructive behavior?  There was a time when we sheltered our children from vile images, allowing their brains to develop to a point of being able to understand the consequences of death and its aftermath.  Now I hear through my own children of fellow students who are allowed to watch movies such as SAW, Silence of Lambs, Hostel, and the Hills have Eyes.  At eleven I hardly think they have the ability to process the horror they are witnessing.

Yet death continues to be glorified in our society.  We also glorify death through the use of humor.  Why?  Is it because we fear death so much that humor is the only viable release?  As an adult I have the ability to make that choice.  Having seen death first hand I know its ugliness in all forms.  I have witnessed the disturbing things we as human beings can do to each other out of anger, rage, or mental instability.  I have held the hands of strangers as they passed, and taken charge of corpses so badly mutilated that one is left wondering why would someone do this and how this is humanly possible?

Fear death or laugh at it? Yes I have earned the right to make judgement on how I will handle my emotions on the subject.  Yet as a young child, I don’t feel you should find the sight of death humorous at all.  I know I cant shelter you but I can ensure that you are not bombarded with false images that tear away at your moral fiber.  I also don’t believe one should completely fear death.  Fear is a normal reaction but maybe understanding more about it without Hollywood’s twisted take on the subject would help ease ones mind.

Then there is the remaining questions.  What is death and how do I describe it to my children?  The simple version is the definition printed above.  But being someone who has only experienced the aftermath of death.  How do we really know what happens to ourselves as the moment takes us.  Is there really an afterlife?  Are we so brazen to believe that we are all things in this gigantic universe we call home?  Or do we simply close our eyes and pass into nothing, black, darkness? Some days I find myself sitting on my second story balcony looking out into the fields and pondering; how sad it will be that one day I will no longer be able to see this beauty.  No longer be able to smell the mustard flowers in bloom or the Eucalyptus trees in the spring.  It makes me sad, leaves me worried for my children and I am left wondering why we are given this wonderful gift of life.  This gift that so many waste, with the way they live their lives! Wasting away are those who worry endlessly over irreverent, stupid, petty things.  I am thankful for all that I have in my life, yet selfish due to my reserves about giving it all away, succumbing to deaths inevitable arrival.

So what do we do? What do we do as a society to ease this mental conundrum that lays before us?  Do we continue to propel ourselves forward where before long it will be acceptable to watch the beheadings of small children in a sick and twisted version of Survivor that can only be seen through Pay per Veiw?  Or do we start standing up as parents and say enough is enough, demanding stronger censorship in regards to gore on television and in the movies?  Do we begin to recognize are mortality and quit living as though there will always be a tomorrow? Or do we continue on blindly as though we are immortal? Or am I just completely out in left field with all of this, shrouded by a foggy vision of the world due to the experiences I ‘ve had over a 17 year career?  Imposing my cynical brain upon the weak and unsuspecting? I just dont know…..

Oh by the way in case you were wondering or possibly unsure, I always choose humour to deal with deaths darkness.

Its more than a shirt..

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This started as a story I wrote for my son.  I felt he needed to understand the importance of staying true to yourself.  That people spend their whole lives wasting time on phony images.  I also felt if he understood who I had become, he would understand we have all been in that awkward position at some point in our lives.  Sometimes the things we try to live up to only bring failure.  Sometimes, remarkably they bring success, but in the end I wanted him to know he will become a wonderful person by using all the tools he has been given by his mother and I.  How he uses them will help him to define who he is and who he wants to become…

So here it is…..

 IT’S MORE THAN A SHIRT

It started when I was in high school. I came from a small rural community and at my high school wrestling, football and basketball were the followed sports of choice. I had friends that were on the wrestling team and during the school week they always wore their wrestling shirts or Letterman jackets.  I would marvel at the way people treated them when we were out in public getting something to eat or just hanging out.  (Joe citizen) So you’re on the wrestling team Huh? How’s the season going? (Followed up with) You boys need something to eat? And; don’t let us down at the next match ok! The questions and admiration from adults never ended.  I used to think; if I could wear a team shirt or Letterman Jacket, people would respect me as well.. 

I went to all the wrestling matches and during one of those matches a friend of mine who wrestled varsity, asked me to hold his Letterman jacket.  I ended up putting it on and instantly I could feel other kids and parents alike staring at me as I walked by! It was strange, like I had been instantly transformed into someone special.  I could hear them talking in my head too.  Saying things like; oh that poor boy must be injured, or look at all the markings on that jacket that kid must be some kind of athlete.  As I strolled around the high school gym I also noticed something else.  It didn’t feel right, it felt fake, a sham, this wasn’t my jacket, I hadn’t earned the right to wear it, and I was a complete fraud.  The feeling I had that day stuck with me as I went into adult hood. I always remembered the feeling of shame whenever I had an opportunities to portray myself as something I wasn’t to gain acceptance and admiration. 

There’s more to this than wearing the shirt. 

As I became an adult, I applied and was accepted to a firefighter academy. After several long weeks of intense training, I had the opportunity to become a firefighter upon completion of the class. I succeeded and so started my probationary period with the department. One of the proudest moments of my life was finally being able to discard my red fire academy t- shirt for an official fire department t- shirt.  I wore the navy blue t-shirt around with confidence and pride.  I always felt when people looked at me they were thinking to themselves; “there goes a fireman “with a smile upon their faces.  I had finally arrived. I was now wearing the equivalent of that Letterman jacket from so many years ago.  The only difference was this fire department t-shirt was mine, I had earned it!  All the long academy hours, training at night and in the rain, I had earned it! It was mine to wear when I wanted, where I wanted and everyone was going to see me as someone special! Just look at the large, block letters printed on the back “FIRE DEPARTMENT”.  I mean that alone must mean I’m someone special!  

The truth; I was still a fraud, still a poser, still a fake.  You see it’s not the t-shirt or Letterman jacket you wear that makes you special. It’s what you do with the responsibility bestowed upon you the minute you wear that t-shirt.  The Letterman jacket from so many years ago was earned with dedication, honor, integrity and sheer will.  Matches were won and matches were lost, my friend had numerous injuries along with a few broken bones.  There were skirmishes that went outside the ring and friendships inside the ring that were forged for life.  He honored the sport by always giving one hundred percent and never letting himself come before his team.  The reason people admired him and the others were because they knew or at least hoped they were upholding the honors and traditions of the great wrestlers who walked the matt before them.  They did…

The fire service is no different.  I thought I was on top of the world the day I donned a fresh new navy blue t-shirt emblazoned with our departments name upon the back.   I felt I had arrived to a place of instant respect.   Like so many other young misled lads and lasses I was wrong.  You see my journey had only just begun. For the only thing I had truly earned that day was the right to purchase my uniform shirt.  I was very quickly going to learn that being a fireman was much more than wearing a cool navy blue t-shirt.

Oh sure I had passed the academy, yes I had been assigned a shift, I now had a Captain an Engineer and a firefighter to work for and alongside.  What I didn’t have, what I didn’t realize after all those years of watching others and thinking “I could do that”, was experience.  I needed to put in the time. Time to prove that I really deserved to wear a department t-shirt, time to honor those that came before me with actions not words, time to show my crew and the department that I could give one hundred percent of myself and always put the team first.  I needed to place my co-workers and my community first, ensuring that I would perform flawlessly each and every time an alarm went off.  Earning my stripes meant, staying calm during emergencies and thinking clearly, it meant not getting angry as a citizen is yelling at you for taking too long to arrive on scene of their emergency.  Keeping a straight face as a drunk driver tells you why he parked his car in the living room of someone else’s residence. Telling a patient its ok they vomited on you for the third time, then afterwards calmly letting them know it happens to you all the time.  It means holding a little kid and comforting them while CPR is being performed on mommy.  Telling that child it’s going to be ok, even though you know mommy is never coming home again. Picking up a homeless man and letting him know that you appreciate the warning he gave you in regards to him contracting AIDS. Knowing the law states he isn’t required to tell you a thing as he is bleeding all over you. Carefully picking up body parts off the freeway at 2 in the morning or unlocking a car on a 104 degree day with an infant in the backseat.  It means coming to work even though you don’t feel good or you hurt because you know someone today is going to hurt much worse than you do now. Spending holidays and birthdays, family occasions and children’s sporting events away from your family. Sometimes 48 hours turns into 96 hours and there is nothing you can do about it.  During the summer or “wildland’ season you may end up spending weeks in other parts of the state as part of the Office of Emergency Services response matrix. Its knowing and I mean knowing, that at any moment in time it could all be over!  That we dont live forever and this job at times seems to take additional seconds away from that clock.

After 17 years there are things I have done and seen that are too unbelievable to even mention.  Events more gruesome than any person should have to endure. Pictures lodged in your mind that sometimes rear their ugly head for no good reason at all. Yet there they are and before long you have transposed other people’s tragedies upon your own families’ day to day operations! I have had the misfortune of burying former colleagues, friends and family members.  I have tried my hardest to pay homage to those that have come before me and instill the simple qualities of honor, dedication, and respect into the “new ones” that arrive every couple of years. 

You can always spot the “new ones” too. I see them; they are in every city, in every firehouse, in every town across our nation.  They have “the look” it gives them away every time.  They stand tall and proud, their shirts are shiny and blue, they walk with a certain step that right away identifies them as a “young firefighter”, they’ll try telling you stories even though you haven’t asked.   They end up walking away frustrated with you if you seem indifferent.  They want your respect, they are yearning for your respect, and the problem is they have to work for that respect. They have a long way to go and many experiences to endure.  Obtaining knowledge from actual hands on work in conjunction with countless hours of training, before they even get a hint that there’s more to being a firefighter than wearing the t-shirt.

When that happens, when they have reached the tipping point of knowledge and experience, something else happens.  They calm down, their shirts aren’t quite so neatly pressed, they talk a little quieter, and they brag a little less, they understand the people they serve are not just faceless images erased with time.  It’s then and only then they obtain a different demeanor.  One of confidence mixed with a hint of exhaustion and humility.  When they go home they will stare at their duty shirt as they put it in the wash with pride.  And they will spend the rest of their careers trying to keep the “new ones” on track by passing down all the same lessons and wisdom they were exposed too.  Then and only then the shirt wont define them and it won’t seem so important after all. 

I still wear an occasional retired job shirt from time to time when I am off duty.  Usually they have been relegated to “work shirt” status because they are too destroyed to be used on duty.  But for the most part it’s only around my property.  I hardly ever wear one into town.  It’s not because I am embarrassed or ashamed of what I do, I love being a firefighter! Being a firefighter to this day is still hands down the greatest job in the world!  I don’t wear them because I have finally earned the respect I was looking for, the funny thing is, the respect I was looking for didn’t come from co-workers or the citizens in our town. It didn’t come from family members who are always interested in my job when I see them, or even the wonderful and not so wonderful people I have helped over the years. 

The respect came from me. I have respect for myself and for that there is no t-shirt.