I love to tell stories. It's the reason I spent 4 years and a dump truck full of money to get a degree in English. And ever since then I have told everyone I know that said degree is "as useful on a resume as a felony conviction". In spite of the fiscal awareness it required me to repress, I always wanted to teach, study literature, or write.
Instead I went blind. Most of you know the story. Five years of being a disabled, stay at home Dad created some pretty good stories, and those can be found at my old blog, Dad's Destroying Angels. The name of that blog came from my theory (which I still subscribe to) that when God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, he sent a hand full of 3 year old kids. There is no more destructive force in all of nature. Fight me on it. You won't win, because I still have a 4 year old and I will send her to your house to prove it.
At the time, I was spending my days listening to inane cartoons, brawling with toddlers and then typing the play by play on a laptop that had the screen magnified so large that there was only one word visible on the screen at a time. It was time consuming and a cast-iron "bleep" to edit and proof read; but spare time, I had. It WAS funny. Mostly, anyways. And I just went with it because we were such a train wreck that it was either laugh or start saving time by cooking my morning pop tarts in the shower (C'mon. That was funny. think about it and start laughing, dammit. I'll wait).
It was a trying time for our family, and neither Nena nor I have any idea to this day of how we survived it. There were lasting repercussions from those days that still bounce off the walls like echos and smack us in the face. Things got worse and worse. I had to find something to make some money or we were going to lose our house, our sanity, and what was left of our ragged nerves.
In what might only be seen as Divine Irony, I found a job with a small family owned company that specialized in (I'm not kidding) cleaning up disasters. Yeah, I know. Live with literary devices, die by literary devices.
Having had some conversations on the matter in the ensuing near-decade, I now know that when I walked into the office on my first day, no one thought my stay would be a long one. Cleaning up disasters is, to put it mildly, damn hard work. Most of the folks there figured I wasn't going to last the afternoon. All anyone could see was a blind fat guy wheezing and sweating and going red in the face while trying to use a roller to paint a wall he couldn't even see.
I don't blame 'em. I'm not sure even I thought I'd last. But the Swanson brothers stuck with me because another thing no one could see was my desperate determination and eventually I worked my self into shape. I had begged the Lord to help me pay my bills, and I had found a way to do it. Drying houses and cleaning up fires wasn't what I went to college for but it kept me from going off the deep end. Over time I got my sight back, I learned a thing or two about how to fix water damage, mold, and fire; and a career was born.
The only downfall was that I got as busy as a no-legged man in a butt kicking contest (Just laying on the ground getting my butt kicked). I had half a decade of lost income to recoup, debts to pay, and I had gone all in to help build a business. All that my life was missing was time to write. I was ok with that because I'd rather put food in my kid's mouths than tell funny stories. And since funny stories wasn't paying very well (or at all), my blog got taken off the back burner and set in the sink to soak.
It's kinda too bad because I promise you that VERY few of you would believe some of the crazy things I have seen. I often spend my days in other people's homes watching THEM deal with the stress of unexpected misfortune. I have been in houses that the "Hoarders" show wouldn't enter. I have dealt with people that make our current presidential candidates look rational, and oddly enough, that is where I finally found a use for my English degree. I have to do some pretty fast talking sometimes to get people to calm down, get out of my way, and let me help them. The right words can do that. And I always have empathy for people who are having a bad day. I've had a lot of them. Who knew that my useless degree would get a work out after all?
These days, I don't spend so much time kicking in sheet rock and splashing in soggy carpet. I have some younger, stronger muscle guys that take care of that while I spend the bulk of my time calming people down and facilitating communication between insurance adjusters and homeowners. I still like what I do and every day at work is a good day.
But I still love to tell stories. So when I finally got some spare time, I could no longer ignore the little voice(s) in my head telling my to start writing again. I had set the bar for clever blog names pretty high with "Dad's". I thought about it for a week or two, tested a few ideas on people, but in the end, I knew what I was going to call this blog the second I thought of it. There was waaaaaay too much irony in "Flirting with Disaster" for me NOT to use it.
I know. I have BECOME a giant, ironic allegory; the man who fixed the metaphorical disaster of his life by cleaning up actual disasters.
After three posts, I'm still not sure what direction we are going to be heading in with this blog, but I do know this.
I'm not likely to run out of stories anytime soon. Not with this career.
Have a good week guys. See you in a week.
PS- Congratulations to my good friend Chad Starks, who has now successfully swam both the English and Catalina channels. Just a quick lap around Manhattan Island to go.
Friday, September 30, 2016
Friday, September 23, 2016
Swimmers, Strummers, and Other Things That Blow my Mind
I'm...kind of a big deal.
OK, that wasn't exactly what I meant. What I was trying to say is, I know some people who are absolutely a big deal.
Maybe that doesn't sound much better. Eh...my blog, my ego. It's a package deal.
I thought that since last week was about trying not to waste any talent that I may have, I'd look around and see what my friends are doing with theirs. Holy cow, was I amazed. A quick glimpse at face book showed me that while MY life might be heavy on ordinary right now, my friends sure aren't.
For example:
1)My best friend from high school is SWIMMING from Catalina Island to Long Beach this weekend.
Not a typo. I will pause and let that sink (***not an appropriate word choice***) in for a moment.
SWIMMING FROM CATALINA TO LONG BEACH!!!!
Do you realize that my wife and I paid good money last May to take a freaking cruise ship from Long Beach to Catalina Island??!! A FREAKING CRUISE SHIP!!!
My buddy Chad said, "What the hell. I'll just swim it."
And in case any of you have doubts as to how realistic this is, keep in mind that Chad swims Bear Lake as a warm up. The long way. Last fall he became the 2nd or 3rd Utahn EVER to swim the English Bleeping Channel. No dry suit, no scuba gear; not even one of those little plastic donuts full of air. Just Chad, 30 miles of open sea, a nasty school of jellyfish and one of the most insane tests of physical endurance this side of Everest.
Am I impressed? Uh...yeah. So Saturday night about midnight, think about Chad, ask Poseidon to keep the sharks from getting eaten if they get in his way, and be amazed at one insanely gifted guy. You can keep track of his progress here:
http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0MYsGXvq0km2aFPgbqkdO4hQ3CnOLsYxg
(I think. I forgot how to add links and stuff to my blog. Gimme a break, I just figured out opposable thumbs)
2)My friends Brian, Dave, and their band just played another awesome show on Monday night here in Salt Lake. They are pretty amazing. None of that coverband, knock-off garage crap for these guys. All original music, All the time, and it does not suck. They aren't on the radio yet, but they ought to be. They are called "Go Suburban" and they are great. You can even let your mom listen. There's no swearing; even though I tell Brian all the time that swearing shows you know MORE words than other people and they demonstrate loquaciousness. But even without swearing, you should give them a try. Look them up on youtube, or follow the link below.
Again, am I impressed? Damn right I am.
https://youtu.be/x8Ye9NScl2g
And while those are the two biggies that stand out, there are more.
My cousin took photos for my sister's wedding and did an amazing job. She managed to make my brother-in-law presentable and that is something Mandy has been trying to do for nearly a decade. And while we are on the subject of the wedding, there were the flowers my Aunt did (she could give Dionysus a run for his flower-growing money), The cake my sister decorated, and a thousand little touches by many friends and family that made it an amazing evening.
I have another cousin and her husband who are foster parents. As I saw her posting on Facebook regarding her 3 millionth or so foster child, I was suddenly amazed and awestruck at their capacity to love on sight and without condition. If that isn't talent, I don't know what is.
I have friends who are working in law enforcement. They go out every day and face down evil that I don't want to think about. And thanks to them, I usually don't have to. Probably feels like a fairly thankless job these days, but I get it. And don't bother asking how working law enforcement is a talent. If you have the stomach to see what those guys see, face what they face, and still come home every night and not despise the universe for the evil they find in it; then you have talent, my friend. And my respect.
Anyway. The point of this post isn't to brag on how fortunate these great people are to be my friends (Did I mention my talent is braggadocio?). It's not even to stir up some very minor publicity for people who deserve much, much more than I can give them. It is about the fact that even though it often seems the world is going to hell in a Fed Ex envelope, there is plenty of good and plenty of amazing going on all around you. Just look for it.
Look up.
Look for the person nearest you RIGHT THIS SECOND and I bet you can think of something amazing about them. When it comes to you what the amazing talent they have is, tell them about it. It will make both of your days and make the world a little brighter place.
So, Go Chad. Swim like you stole something.
Go Suburban. You guys Rock!
And Go all the Rest of you. Go figure out why your friends are amazing; it's worth it.
OK, that wasn't exactly what I meant. What I was trying to say is, I know some people who are absolutely a big deal.
Maybe that doesn't sound much better. Eh...my blog, my ego. It's a package deal.
I thought that since last week was about trying not to waste any talent that I may have, I'd look around and see what my friends are doing with theirs. Holy cow, was I amazed. A quick glimpse at face book showed me that while MY life might be heavy on ordinary right now, my friends sure aren't.
For example:
1)My best friend from high school is SWIMMING from Catalina Island to Long Beach this weekend.
Not a typo. I will pause and let that sink (***not an appropriate word choice***) in for a moment.
SWIMMING FROM CATALINA TO LONG BEACH!!!!
Do you realize that my wife and I paid good money last May to take a freaking cruise ship from Long Beach to Catalina Island??!! A FREAKING CRUISE SHIP!!!
My buddy Chad said, "What the hell. I'll just swim it."
And in case any of you have doubts as to how realistic this is, keep in mind that Chad swims Bear Lake as a warm up. The long way. Last fall he became the 2nd or 3rd Utahn EVER to swim the English Bleeping Channel. No dry suit, no scuba gear; not even one of those little plastic donuts full of air. Just Chad, 30 miles of open sea, a nasty school of jellyfish and one of the most insane tests of physical endurance this side of Everest.
Am I impressed? Uh...yeah. So Saturday night about midnight, think about Chad, ask Poseidon to keep the sharks from getting eaten if they get in his way, and be amazed at one insanely gifted guy. You can keep track of his progress here:
http://share.findmespot.com/shared/faces/viewspots.jsp?glId=0MYsGXvq0km2aFPgbqkdO4hQ3CnOLsYxg
(I think. I forgot how to add links and stuff to my blog. Gimme a break, I just figured out opposable thumbs)
2)My friends Brian, Dave, and their band just played another awesome show on Monday night here in Salt Lake. They are pretty amazing. None of that coverband, knock-off garage crap for these guys. All original music, All the time, and it does not suck. They aren't on the radio yet, but they ought to be. They are called "Go Suburban" and they are great. You can even let your mom listen. There's no swearing; even though I tell Brian all the time that swearing shows you know MORE words than other people and they demonstrate loquaciousness. But even without swearing, you should give them a try. Look them up on youtube, or follow the link below.
Again, am I impressed? Damn right I am.
https://youtu.be/x8Ye9NScl2g
And while those are the two biggies that stand out, there are more.
My cousin took photos for my sister's wedding and did an amazing job. She managed to make my brother-in-law presentable and that is something Mandy has been trying to do for nearly a decade. And while we are on the subject of the wedding, there were the flowers my Aunt did (she could give Dionysus a run for his flower-growing money), The cake my sister decorated, and a thousand little touches by many friends and family that made it an amazing evening.
I have another cousin and her husband who are foster parents. As I saw her posting on Facebook regarding her 3 millionth or so foster child, I was suddenly amazed and awestruck at their capacity to love on sight and without condition. If that isn't talent, I don't know what is.
I have friends who are working in law enforcement. They go out every day and face down evil that I don't want to think about. And thanks to them, I usually don't have to. Probably feels like a fairly thankless job these days, but I get it. And don't bother asking how working law enforcement is a talent. If you have the stomach to see what those guys see, face what they face, and still come home every night and not despise the universe for the evil they find in it; then you have talent, my friend. And my respect.
Anyway. The point of this post isn't to brag on how fortunate these great people are to be my friends (Did I mention my talent is braggadocio?). It's not even to stir up some very minor publicity for people who deserve much, much more than I can give them. It is about the fact that even though it often seems the world is going to hell in a Fed Ex envelope, there is plenty of good and plenty of amazing going on all around you. Just look for it.
Look up.
Look for the person nearest you RIGHT THIS SECOND and I bet you can think of something amazing about them. When it comes to you what the amazing talent they have is, tell them about it. It will make both of your days and make the world a little brighter place.
So, Go Chad. Swim like you stole something.
Go Suburban. You guys Rock!
And Go all the Rest of you. Go figure out why your friends are amazing; it's worth it.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Better Eve Than Hamlet, or Why I'm Back
To be, or not to be. That IS the question.
Might be the most famous question this side of "Hey Eve, How'd you like some apple sauce with your pork chops tonight?"
Funny enough, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the Melancholy Dane and the Mother of all Creation are facing a very familiar challenge.
What is my potential, and how do I reach it?
For both Eve and Hamlet, the choices are unclear and frightening. With eternal consequences.
Eve was a princess, ordained and chosen to be a queen. She knew that the only way to reach her goals was to partake of the fruit. But doing so betrayed a specific commandment. Now she had agency... she COULD rightfully and properly choose to obey that law only and not partake; but the consequence left her stuck in a purgatory... a place where all her possibilities would remain Potential and never Kinetic. It would be the safe choice- to stay in the Garden; but was it the right one? In her mind (and a good thing for us) Eve knew it could not be. She was a being of Glory and if she wanted to obtain all that she was promised as such, she had to make the hard choice and ACT. Thus, she did. She took arms against the sea of troubles that she knew would come, and opposed them. None of us would be here otherwise.
Hamlet faces an identical quandary. He is a prince, born and reared. Had circumstances been slightly more in his favor, he would gain the throne, the girl, and all the earthly glory that he is RIGHTFULLY heir to. Yet Hamlet's murdered father appears to him (awfully serpent like if you ask me...) and asks him to be an instrument of revenge-to kill the usurper, Hamlet's uncle/stepfather. Revenge pays off quickly and the prince knows it- all that he lost would be restored to him in a single stroke with added praise and adoration from the earthly father he had loved and revered. Furthermore, it is fairly easy to argue that killing Claudius might even be just.
But on the other hand, cold blooded revenge and calculated, premeditated murder...even in a good cause, goes against all that Hamlet knows and believes. What does it profit him to gain the world but lose his soul? The long play is to suffer the slings and arrows of his truly outrageous fortune. The swift strike is to kill Claudius and be a king, although of a lesser cloth than he might have otherwise been. Sadly, he realizes "the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought", and he loses the "name of action".
In other words, he spent so much time worrying about the problems that might arise from either choice that he fails to do anything and others make his choice for him. Remember what we were saying about Kinetic versus Potential possibilities? Without action, it was "Not To Be"
Both Eve and Hamlet have been picked apart for the better part of time for the choices they made (or in Hamlet's case, refused to make), and everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But to me, the object lesson they provide is pretty stark.
Eve ACTED.
She chose, and she did, and she stood up and took the consequences so that she could gain the blessings she desired. Hamlet, by comparison, seems unwilling to bear those same consequences: He asks who would "bear the whips and scorns of time" for a chance to live their dreams?, and ultimately concludes his soliloquy with a thought that might not be as famous as his opening question, but certainly rings just as true. "Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." He won't face the music and he loses all that he might have been.
Now, at this point, you may be asking yourself, "I read Patrick's old blog and this is nothing like 'Dad has 2 heart attacks' at all. What the hell does Hamlet and Eve have to do with anything??"
Stay with me.
I have been talking about writing again almost since I stopped writing "Dad's". Every time I told a story at a family gathering, or posted an extra long rant on facebook, I'd get a little itch and think "you know, a little tweaking and that would make a great blog post." Then work would call, or one of the kids would need to go somewhere or a ball game would come on or....you get the point. It's damn hard to chase your dreams. Life gets in the way of love.
Conscience does make cowards of us all. OFTEN.
But I've been thinking about how literature applies to my life a lot lately. Maybe I'm just early for a midlife crisis, but turning 43 taught me that Douglas Adams was full of crap (Now THAT would be a great blog title, huh?); 42 was NOT the answer to life, the universe and everything. It probably wasn't even the answer to "What is 41+1?" So like Eve, and my other talented friends who display their talents with grace and beauty that I'll never possess... it is time for me to be. Or not be.
Write, Kelly; or get off the keyboard. Conscience may no longer make a coward of me, and who knows what dreams may come.
It is not my intention to turn this into a blog of LitCrit, even if that would be fun as hell and a couple of you might even be entertained by it. But it also isn't going to be "Dad's Destroying Angels" either. I'm a far different man now than that smart ass was back then. I have less hair and patience.
If I do it right, it will still be funny, it will still be interesting, and hopefully, it will help you guys learn that it's OK to be a little off the beaten path. You can always hang out with me and we will be lost together. Whaddya say? Wanna see where you can end up with a blind guide?
I figure it will probably take a few posts before I start to find my voice again, but its time to stop talking and start writing. A post a week or somewhere in the ballpark. Because I'd rather be Eve than Hamlet.
Oh, get your minds out of the gutter... sheesh. I should have remembered what kind of readers I have....
Might be the most famous question this side of "Hey Eve, How'd you like some apple sauce with your pork chops tonight?"
Funny enough, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the Melancholy Dane and the Mother of all Creation are facing a very familiar challenge.
What is my potential, and how do I reach it?
For both Eve and Hamlet, the choices are unclear and frightening. With eternal consequences.
Eve was a princess, ordained and chosen to be a queen. She knew that the only way to reach her goals was to partake of the fruit. But doing so betrayed a specific commandment. Now she had agency... she COULD rightfully and properly choose to obey that law only and not partake; but the consequence left her stuck in a purgatory... a place where all her possibilities would remain Potential and never Kinetic. It would be the safe choice- to stay in the Garden; but was it the right one? In her mind (and a good thing for us) Eve knew it could not be. She was a being of Glory and if she wanted to obtain all that she was promised as such, she had to make the hard choice and ACT. Thus, she did. She took arms against the sea of troubles that she knew would come, and opposed them. None of us would be here otherwise.
Hamlet faces an identical quandary. He is a prince, born and reared. Had circumstances been slightly more in his favor, he would gain the throne, the girl, and all the earthly glory that he is RIGHTFULLY heir to. Yet Hamlet's murdered father appears to him (awfully serpent like if you ask me...) and asks him to be an instrument of revenge-to kill the usurper, Hamlet's uncle/stepfather. Revenge pays off quickly and the prince knows it- all that he lost would be restored to him in a single stroke with added praise and adoration from the earthly father he had loved and revered. Furthermore, it is fairly easy to argue that killing Claudius might even be just.
But on the other hand, cold blooded revenge and calculated, premeditated murder...even in a good cause, goes against all that Hamlet knows and believes. What does it profit him to gain the world but lose his soul? The long play is to suffer the slings and arrows of his truly outrageous fortune. The swift strike is to kill Claudius and be a king, although of a lesser cloth than he might have otherwise been. Sadly, he realizes "the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought", and he loses the "name of action".
In other words, he spent so much time worrying about the problems that might arise from either choice that he fails to do anything and others make his choice for him. Remember what we were saying about Kinetic versus Potential possibilities? Without action, it was "Not To Be"
Both Eve and Hamlet have been picked apart for the better part of time for the choices they made (or in Hamlet's case, refused to make), and everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But to me, the object lesson they provide is pretty stark.
Eve ACTED.
She chose, and she did, and she stood up and took the consequences so that she could gain the blessings she desired. Hamlet, by comparison, seems unwilling to bear those same consequences: He asks who would "bear the whips and scorns of time" for a chance to live their dreams?, and ultimately concludes his soliloquy with a thought that might not be as famous as his opening question, but certainly rings just as true. "Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all." He won't face the music and he loses all that he might have been.
Now, at this point, you may be asking yourself, "I read Patrick's old blog and this is nothing like 'Dad has 2 heart attacks' at all. What the hell does Hamlet and Eve have to do with anything??"
Stay with me.
I have been talking about writing again almost since I stopped writing "Dad's". Every time I told a story at a family gathering, or posted an extra long rant on facebook, I'd get a little itch and think "you know, a little tweaking and that would make a great blog post." Then work would call, or one of the kids would need to go somewhere or a ball game would come on or....you get the point. It's damn hard to chase your dreams. Life gets in the way of love.
Conscience does make cowards of us all. OFTEN.
But I've been thinking about how literature applies to my life a lot lately. Maybe I'm just early for a midlife crisis, but turning 43 taught me that Douglas Adams was full of crap (Now THAT would be a great blog title, huh?); 42 was NOT the answer to life, the universe and everything. It probably wasn't even the answer to "What is 41+1?" So like Eve, and my other talented friends who display their talents with grace and beauty that I'll never possess... it is time for me to be. Or not be.
Write, Kelly; or get off the keyboard. Conscience may no longer make a coward of me, and who knows what dreams may come.
It is not my intention to turn this into a blog of LitCrit, even if that would be fun as hell and a couple of you might even be entertained by it. But it also isn't going to be "Dad's Destroying Angels" either. I'm a far different man now than that smart ass was back then. I have less hair and patience.
If I do it right, it will still be funny, it will still be interesting, and hopefully, it will help you guys learn that it's OK to be a little off the beaten path. You can always hang out with me and we will be lost together. Whaddya say? Wanna see where you can end up with a blind guide?
I figure it will probably take a few posts before I start to find my voice again, but its time to stop talking and start writing. A post a week or somewhere in the ballpark. Because I'd rather be Eve than Hamlet.
Oh, get your minds out of the gutter... sheesh. I should have remembered what kind of readers I have....
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