A boring life in a whole nother direction

After what must have seemed like an eternity to Michael M (another Michael M) of Texas, I read and replied to his emails. Interestingly, though, not much had changed in my life in the month that passed. I thought it would be a good idea if I posted something here.

One of the things I said is that I haven't been posting much because my life, although it has taken off in a new direction, has become very much the routine. I'm loving it, though. I am enjoying working at the center. I have just over a semester to get everything I need to go full time.

I am being watched very closely. I was attempting to work with one student, who was struggling with his math lesson. I got very close to losing my temper with him. He felt compelled to go into his beat boxing routing, not giving any attention to what I was trying to teach him. He's a troubled teen in recovery. OK. Say it: BEEN THERE, DONE THAT! So instead of throwing him out of the conference room, I quietly got up and told him we could continue when he was ready. We continued about an hour later, and everything was fine. I did receive a comment saying that I handled that very well.

What I'm finding is this: I deal with so many of the issues with my heart, rather than what I have been taught in school. The pros and experts tell me to deal with certain issues by certain criteria, although I have to sort between the heart and head decisions. And as my friend Jeff has told me many times, sometimes you have to go with what you feel is right. That fine line is not always such a fine line. I did not make myself clear here.

Mom and I will be leaving for New Jersey on July 6 for 12 days. I'm looking forward to that. A little time away will be a welcome change.

So as you can see, I have been busy, but I am enjoying being busy. I am still a part-time server, and I will be working tonight. My biggest challenge right now is to get David to take a couple of days off.

Someone commented to me that my writing reflects exhaustion because there is no emotion in my writing. That may be true. I'll see if I can change that. Golly gee. Whoa. Look at the cock on that horse. Maybe that's why they call it a horse cock! I sound like Jamie on Mythbusters. I don't have a mustache but I need a shave. Sexy bitch!

I can't believe my nephew Yankee Doodle will be 3 years old on the 4th of July! He has brought me so much happiness. He got through the terrible 2's without incident, and now he's a real little human being. He's not a baby anymore; he's a little boy. He's the big brother. Where has the time gone?

And if you are a dad or will be celebrating Fathers Day tomorrow, enjoy a happy and safe day.

Crawling from under the rock...

I began typing this blog offline, and it has been awaiting further updates for a month. I decided to put the finishing touches on this blog before the weekend, and add that I did not spend the day as billions of the world's population did today.

I made a futile attempt to check my old Myspace account with no luck. I now know why Myspace has died on the vine. As I was creating a Facebook account, I realized that all the information they were culling from me was going to serve one purpose, and I didn't want to play their game. Some tell me I have an undue sense of online paranoia; others tell me I'm being smart. Whom shall I believe? For now, all I want to do is stay as low profile as I possibly can.

I had promised a friend that I would post a blog update before my birthday. I intended to live up to that promise, as I began this post on the 26th, but I ended up posting the prior blog post shortly before the bell struck 23. Your move, Jeff.

It felt good to me, sitting at the computer on a day off, or at least the afternoon off. The family treated me like King Shit for my birthday. I don't care much to be the center of attention, and having "Happy birthday" sung to me makes me blush. It was a nice day, and I was glad to share it with those closest to me.

In catching up on what is new...or not so new, let me first start out by saying that everything and everyone is fine. My absence from the net has not been due to any illness or bad news. Imagine it! No bad news, especially during this time of earthquake, tsunami, tornado, war and economic ruin. I'm working very hard to amass the credits to fulfill the requirements of my master's degree. I had hoped to cram everything into a one-year battle royal, but I've decided that both my brain and body would not be fit enough to show up at work after that. However, I'm loving the challenge.

I'm working at the rehab center three to five days a week. My hours are erratic, since I'm working around my school schedule, itself also erratic. I'm trying very hard to leave the problems of the Center back there, but I have found that I bring them home. I understand this to be a real problem, and it's one that I'm being trained to deal with. I'm enjoying the teaching aspect, as I work one-on-one, or group classes. I have developed an excellent rapport with the residents at the Center. They confide in me, and they ask me a lot of questions based on my experiences. It's great to share. There are days when I come home feeling like I accomplished something and made a difference in someone's life. Still, there are other days when I feel as though I fell into a hole and couldn't climb out. I'm learning to take each day as it comes.

My niece Amanda Christine was born on January 15, 2011. Ethan does not leave her side. He's so protective of her. She cries more than Ethan did. A few times when I picked her up she looked at me with a "WTF" expression. I find it very amusing. I get the same look from David...and my mother!

David is fine. He wants to plan a birthday getaway for me, but it will have to wait until after Mothers Day. We did escape for an impromptu evening and night at the condo last week. I looked like I had been through hell, so he took me away, where I could take a nice long shower, get comfortable, and allow him to pamper me. He loves doing that, and I never complain.

Today was a fine end of the week. I received compliments on my patience and diplomacy. I don't recall studying either in school, but I'll take the kudos graciously. I'm taking Mom out to dinner, and I hope to be able to sleep in tomorrow.

It's now time for a shower and a change of clothes. Tonight I get served; tomorrow I'm the server.

I lived up to my promise...with 4 minutes to spare.

There.

I have been typing a blog offline. I promised to post it before my birthday. My birthday will be at 7:45. It's 7:42.

I will post tomorrow. I'm enjoying a relaxed day.

Where's the cake?

Contrary to popular belief...

I am alive and well. My tendency or desires or whatever word you might insert there...to write in my blog have been shadowed by all of the many wonderful life-altering tasks at hand. I have begun a blog post that talks about life issues, such as my new niece, my brother's antique car, my nephew's growing up process, visits with my father, my sister's engagement...and the many challenges facing me as I continue my education and job training. I am still going to be focusing on "education", while at the same time working with rehabilitation. I've been told I'm a perfect match for such a job in the very rehab center that turned my life around, what seems to be a lifetime ago. I am off tonight. David is working. I am busy, believe it or not, doing my tax return. Help! I don't like to make promises I can't keep, but I will make a vow to complete that post and put it here. I might put something more here later today. I'm here...I'm alive...and life is great. Thanks for reading and thanks for your being the faithful reader(s) you have been.

Writing with a kid on my lap...

I wanted to write something before our Sunday dinner. Let's see how far I can get. The whole family is here. A little boy with loving eyes refuses to give me any alone time...and I love it.

I'm told that when your life is busy you lose all sense of time. Such is my life. I've had my six hands full for the past several months, and I'm enjoying everything I'm doing. I haven't been very good at posting in my blog, but as I have said several times in the past, I will do my best to remedy that.

I have been spending a lot of time working at the rehab center, where I will become a full-time intervention counselor when my schooling qualifications are met. I will be involved in teaching, too. While the center maintains strict standards for intervention and rehabilitation, it seems that there are loose guidelines at times, mostly because every person who enters the center is an individual. I am understandably excited about the time I'm spending there, and even more excited about the prospect of working there. It's payback time. I've grown fond of a volunteer, who happens to remind me of another volunteer who changed my life, and he says, "I hope to make a difference in one life...one hug at a time." Amen to that.

I'm also involved with a little light reading, such as "Suicidal Tendencies in Adolescents - Knowing the Signs" or other gut wrenching reading. Understandably, I've put this first in my life. I do have time for play, however.

I do get to work from time to time, but I have begun to cherish the weekends. David and I do enjoy our time together, and we recently spent a very cold week at the condo on the beach. He threw another log on the fire, and we snuggled. But there's no fireplace. :D

I spent a week at my father's home in Phoenix before Christmas. We had a very nice visit. His wife insisted on making sure I gained five pounds before I left. I think she achieved her goal.

Christmas was very nice. It was nice to be home for Christmas, as I recall prior years spent at Habitat for Humanity, and in Bali. I had a lot to think about, and I had a lot to be thankful for. Being with family during the Christmas season was a reminder of what Christmas is all about.

I had to deal with a minor eye infection in my right eye recently, which meant I had to wear my glasses. For once in my life I missed my contacts. How do people wear glasses, anyway? I always find myself pushing them up my nose like a geek. I sat behind a boy in sixth grade who spent half his waking hours pushing his glasses up his nose. His name was Artie, and I kept referring to myself as Artie. By the way, Artie is a 22-year-old millionaire now, drawing cartoons for various publications like children's books and advertising media. But I digress...I took eye drops, which I swore I could taste. I deal.

I'm about to become an uncle for the second time. The baby, a girl, is due on January 18. It's hard to think of Ethan as the big brother.

I need to stop writing this. Ethan is on my lap, and we need to go to the bathroom. I haven't forgotten to write. I will do my best to write as often as I can. Thank you for understanding. Is something warm running down my leg? Ethan?

I just went into Myspace, and I couldn't sort it all out. The new format has me completely baffled, so I will make an attempt to do something with my now dormant account soon. I'm not sure if anybody checks Myspace anymore, but I will keep it around.

My time has been taken up with so many things. For once in my life the things that are taking up all of my time are enjoyable ones. I'm happy about that. I will try to fill you in the best I can.

I can remember the attitude and the excuses. I also remember the feeling of helplessness, and how it affects your whole life. I'm talking, of course, about the teenagers in rehab. I can now say that I've seen it from both sides. It isn't easier for me, observing, than it was for me as a participant. My participation will be in the form of support and encouragement. I am so looking forward to the day when I can work with teenagers who are going through exactly what I went through. I walked the same grounds I did several years ago. I've had the opportunity to work with individuals who, like me, threw their lives into the wind, hoping to end up anywhere else but alive. It doesn't surprise me, either, that the majority of these teens are from upper-class income families. When people think about substance abuse rehabilitation, we think about the inner city. That is not the case here. These are the Hollywood brats. The stories they tell go from frightening to the sublime. Some of their stories have a painful familiarity. But I am the one who can look them in their eyes and tell them that I know exactly what they're going through. I believe that will help. I have also developed a rapport with several of the teenagers. I am so grateful for this opportunity to substantiate my belief that I can be useful in this field. The teaching part will be easy. The counseling part will be part bookwork and experience. I've been told to allow the experience to complement the bookwork, but it should never overrule it. I will keep that in mind.

I'll be back in school in January. I'm still sorting out the minor details, such as how many classes and how many hours per day. I will do what I can do.

I also work as much as I can. You might be wondering if I have any spare time at all. I do, but I have been doing a lot of preliminary studying, preparing for school and supplementing what I'm learning at the center. And don't think I never get out of bed not in the mood to deal with people who are angry at the world.

Other than all that, there's little to report. I'm still here. I'm busy, but everything is good. I'll do my best to post when I can. Thanks for reading.

There is a lot going on, and it's all good.

I've been too quiet for too long, and I thought it was time for me to address some things I would like to say.

While I have kept my political views to myself, I want to share my feelings about the election that just passed. My experience in the voting booth was not one envisioned by our founding fathers. My 2008 experience was, for me, a painstakingly carried out process. I carefully reviewed the sample ballot sent to me; I gathered as much information as I could about the individual candidates, and I voted accordingly. This year, however, I ran the axe through the ballot. The promises made became promises broken. I became incensed at how the campaign ads insulted my intelligence, twisting pieces of information, where only the person, who either had blinders on, or was of reduced mental capacity, would believe the rubbish being forced on us during dinner time. I have proudly declared myself an Independent, with a Moderate view. To vote along party lines, as so many of my friends and their families do, is pointless. A very smart and respected man once said to me, "Son, don't take our word for anything. Question what you read and what you're forced to believe. If someone makes a statement that is assumed to be fact, ask where he got the data and how he got it. Our government is made up of smoke and mirrors, and there's a liar and a thief behind every mirror."

My voting trend this year was mostly made with a "red" pen. This country voted for change in 2008, and now I'm a part of the change that never happened. I'm angry and I'm embarrassed. While I was in Bali, it was interesting to hear their take on the "American President, Mr. Obama". One of the most common comments was of his being weak. That idea scares me. For our President to be viewed as weak by other nations scares me. Many of my friends voted for him. If his election were up to them, he'll be a one-term President. But this isn't all about the President.

We all heard about candidate Christine O'Donnell, and her highly publicized stance against masturbation. The people spoke. There's the rub! There truly is a happy ending. Now she's on the Today Show, and she's spewing all over the airwaves. How do we allow this to happen to us in this country of ours? In the meantime, I'm happy to enjoy what is still legal every night, and I know for a fact that every one of my friends is safe...for now. Call it a stroke of luck. I'll sleep soundly beneath my rustling sheets tonight! Sorry to pull this on you. Fini.

Proposition 19 went up in smoke. As you know, in the past I did smoke marijuana. And yes, I did inhale. If I can quote a friend of mine: "How the fuck to you smoke pot without inhaling?" I don't know where the stuff was grown, and I didn't care. I didn't care whether or not there were any dangerous additives sprinkled on it. There are a lot of arguments for and against Prop 19. I, for one, am in favor of the legalization of marijuana. It's not a question of IF; it's a question of WHEN. It will happen in time, and when it does, it will be another bonanza of tax dollars, just like alcohol, cigarettes and gasoline. Go for home grown, and keep your pot dollars in the USA! Makes me glad I don't do it anymore.

Now it's time to blow away the smoke and break the mirrors, so we can deal with the thieves and liars that lurk within our government. Did we? Did we send a message? Or did we simply replace the wolf with a fox? Only time will tell.

Speaking of smoke...I saw a follow-up article about a two-year-old Indonesian boy who smoked up to four packs of cigarettes a day. I saw video on the news, and it didn't look to me as though he was fully inhaling the smoke, but it doesn't matter. I can attest to the youthful smoking in Indonesia. I saw uniformed pre-adolescent boys smoking on nearly a daily basis. I could never smoke that much, nor would I ever want to. Yes, I was introduced to nicotine at a very young age, and it's something I now regret, but I can't go back in time. These children do it because their friends do it, their families do it, and it is so widely romanticized by advertisements geared toward children. I sat on the beach in Bali, and a young boy came down and sat next to me. In the ten minutes he spent next to me, he smoked two cigarettes, drag after drag, as if he were trying to get as much smoke in his lungs as he possibly can. He was a cute boy, around twelve years old, although it's not always easy to tell. He smiled at me, and the conversation was severely limited, due to our lack of control over the other's language. I wondered, or perhaps I hoped that cigarettes were his only vice, as it would only be foolish to believe that marijuana isn't rampant among all Indonesians.

And speaking of Bali, my return to Bali will have to wait for now. But don't dismay. This is because I am going back to school in January. I am returning to UCLA, taking Adolescent Psychology courses. I have set my sights on education of rehabilitating teens, on both a one-to-one and class platform. I have been offered an internship at the very rehab center that turned my life around. I happened to meet one of the advisors, and I agreed to return for a visit. They asked if I would talk to some of the youth in treatment. I spoke in the same room where I attended group therapy sessions, and where I got involved in so many fights, I was threatened with expulsion. As I spoke, I could swear I heard a very familiar shuffling of feet coming down the hall. For all I know it could have been someone sliding a box across the floor, or possibly a broom, but that sound meant so much to me. Call it an epiphany. After several conversations via phone, email and in person, I was offered another opportunity of a lifetime. There was no thinking about it. I am excited about this, and it is the answer to thousands of prayers. I have spent several days observing. I should drop the flag of caution, as this is not cast in stone. I'm there, and they are watching me. I'm not being pessimistic, just cautiously optimistic.

My life lately has been non-stop, but everything that has me going at top speed is better than the last. I am working, but I'm not dragging. I find myself singing, and David has said that he has never seen me this upbeat, except for one certain evening when I first met him. My mother is certain I have lost my mind. "Oh my gosh, Michael, you made your bed! What's wrong, Sweetie?"

Sweetie?

Rob will be returning from Indonesia soon, if he hasn't returned already. He will have a lot to say about the effects of Merapi, the earthquake and the tsunami. His brief email to me said little more than "We sure could use you now!"

Besides doing a lot of work for my church, observing at the rehab center, working and making plans for the future, I'm still able to enjoy helping my brother in his restoration project of his 1953 Buick. Ethan is all over the place, talking and being the perfect little boy. We'll see how things change when his little sister is born.

I'm off today. I'm not going anywhere. David is off tonight, so we'll be able to spend some time together. I wonder what tomorrow's specials will be. Maybe I'll sing them to the customers.

This brings up my final topic, which has had me intrigued for nearly two weeks. Have you seen the video of "A Trip Down Market Street, 1906"? Here is a link to the best site (CBS) if you haven't seen it. Watch it now, and come back to what I have to say about it. I would enjoy reading your comments.

http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504803_162-20019755-10391709.html


This is by far the best quality and most intact of the videos I've seen. Morley Safer gives a good introduction. The music is hauntingly beautiful and fitting. The scene, with the people darting every which way, and the automobiles circling around the cable car, was staged. This video was intended to be a travel movie, showing the bustling city of San Francisco in the new century. Little did these people know, many of them would fall victim of the great earthquake and subsequent fire. I have been on that very street, and to see it at a time when my great-grandparents were small children, blows me away.

Ever since I saw THIS video I've been taken in. Wow! Imagine. 104 years ago, just like I'm there. I'm looking at the people, and I'm comparing my life today to how they lived. How many times have I wanted to go back in time, to a time long before I was born! I would probably get sick, as so many of our modern conveniences are not in existence yet, such as refrigeration and water purification. Many, if not most, cooked on wood or coal stoves. Their houses had no central heat, and there was no air conditioning. Life moved at a walking speed. If you needed to go far away, you could take the train, and in a few short days you could be as far as San Diego! But it's a totally different society.

Everyone was dressed up. Was that part of the show? Everyone wore a hat, even the newsboys. These dirty little street rats, hawking their newspapers, ran around the cable car with their dirty hands and dirty faces, with the biggest smiles the Twentieth Century ever knew. They all wore leather boots. They'd flip to see what I have on my feet. In the absence of cell phones, iPods, computers or TV, there were table games and sports. Radio was just coming into being. There were no cross-country telephone calls...if you had a telephone. In the absence of antibiotics and modern medical facilities, kids died of mumps, measles, chicken pox, flu, pneumonia and polio. A simpler time? In some ways, yes. But things are leaps and bounds more simple for us today. Everything is done for us. Everything is automatic. Simplicity through complexity and technology, perhaps. The sight of a novelty, such as a movie camera, might attract the same attention today, or would it?

We've encountered one particular boy most of the way. He's the one who keeps running ahead of us, his jacket a bit too short. He held on to the back of one of the automobiles, stood in front of the cable car, and then ran. It must be hard to run in those boots. As he and the cable car reach the Ferry Terminal, he turns around. There's a smile on his face, and a look of accomplishment, and that made me smile. His face has been recorded for far longer than he ever dreamed. Did you notice the man with the long beard in the background? And the kids, the newsies, steal the final scene. I couldn't help but smile at their reaction, but also feel a bit saddened, not only to know what lay ahead for them within a few days, but also the simple truth that they're all gone now. And even 104 years ago, kids were kids. And little did any of them know, that a century later, we'd be watching...from the other side of the looking glass.