Ten

is exactly how many beers it takes me to run into walls as I walk through my house and still feel good.

This is my first week of a two week vacation. I'm not going anywhere but I will be spending most of my time in the garage working on my dune buggy and fighting off the hangovers.

Well, you know...Shove it!

Seriously, I really think I am a decent guy. Reading that last post makes me sound like a postal worker. I guess I'm one of those people that you can only push so far before I snap.

I believe, as a human being, every one is entitled to a certain amount of respect. You don't earn it. It's automatically granted. I assume that every adult I meet is a reasonable and intelligent human. I grant them automatic respect as a result of this assumption. I try to listen to their thoughts and ideas and give them the benefit of the doubt that they know something about what they say. Everyone deserves this type of respect unless they do something to lose it. It doesn't matter what your social status or job title is. You just automatically get that from me. I guess where I fall short is that I expect the same in return.

It always blows me away when people disrespect me. I have tolerance to a certain point. I'm (at least I think I am) very tolerant with the people who disrespect me. I'm starting to see this as a character flaw in my personality. The problem is that people don't ever expect me to blow up at them. They think, because I let them get away with it before, that I'm always going to roll over and die. Sometimes I wonder what I look like when I reach the breaking point. I can see the outright surprise and, sometimes, even fear that I've put on people faces when I snap. I need to start learning how to give warning that I'm about to lose it.

It had been several years since my burger melt down. I had been in the work force since I was sixteen including a stint in the Army without any incidents. I was a college educated working stiff in a job that, for the first time and possibly the last, I actually enjoyed. I was in charge of my own department. My customers were demanding and the job was extremely fast paced.

The day before had been a monster but I managed to get everything done despite my assistant calling in sick. It was early the next morning and I arrived at work with the intention of catching up on the previous days loose ends. I was a little worn down from the previous day and was having difficulty beating the rust off. The caffeine my body requires to function had not yet been supplied. My assistant was sick again so it was going to be another long one. The good news was that it was Friday and, if I busted my ass, I wouldn't have to come in during the weekend. We were having a banner month which was one of the reasons I was so busy. About an hour into the day I get a call from my boss. The conversation went something like this with him on my speaker phone.

"Glenn, how are you doing this morning?" My boss and I were actually friends outside work so we had a good rapport.

"I'm good but my assistant is sick again so I'm solo yet again today." He and I both had a rough month so far given the amount of business we were doing.

"Hey," he said "Could you tell me what's going on with project X?"

"Sure." I brought it up in my computer and instantly knew what his next question would be.

Before I could say anything he asks, "Why isn't this done in project X?"

"I..." was all I managed to get out. The problem was a common glitch in the billing/inventory system that we used. The work was done and all I had to was take two minutes out to fix it so it would show up correctly in the system.

"You know I need this to be done in order to close out this transaction." he stepped over me.

"Hang..." was all I could say.

"We need to get this done ASAP and this is your priority as of this second." his tone was elevating with every word.

"But..." I was cut off again.

"Damn it! I have to get this thing done YESTERDAY. Why isn't it done yet?" He continues.

"Becau..." Again he stepped all over me.

This type of exchange went on and he continued to chew deeper into my ass with me not even able to get a single word out over a simple fix that could have been done in the time he was taking to ride my butt. I met that magic point where I couldn't take it any more so "click" I hung up on him. Instantly my phone rings again. I pick it up and he asks if I hung up on him.

"Yep." I reply calmly, "If you're not going to listen to me, why the hell should I listen to you?"

His office was adjacent to mine. I hear a smash as he tosses his phone against our common wall and a huge commotion as he trips all over everything in his rage to get out of his office. We have a common door that we share but, on my side there is a book shelf blocking it. This is a good thing for me or I might not be here to tell the story. The door smashes into the shelf and opens a quarter of the way before stopping. He was a rotund guy and was unable to wedge his body through the opening. At this point, I'm out of my chair to meet him at the opening. He is frothing at the mouth screaming at me with his body wedged in the doorway. I'm yelling back at him. The last two sentences of the argument were this.

Me- "You WILL fucking respect me!"

Him- "Clock out and go home!"

So I did. I went home, fired up the old resume, and started to look for another job. I spent all weekend refining my resume and digging up leads. On Monday I get a call about ten AM.

I answer, "Hello."

"Are you coming into work today?" Comes my bosses voice.

"Um...I thought you fired me."

"Did the words 'You're fired' ever come out of my mouth?" he says.

I think for a second, "I guess not."

"So Are you coming in then?" he asks.

I pause for a second and say, " Before I come back to work you and I need to have a talk."

"OK come on in and we'll sit down this morning."

I went to work and when I got there he was with a customer. I walked into my office and grabbed the paperwork that he had been whining about on Friday. I had three goals in the conversation that was to follow. First, I wanted a full apology. Second, I wanted to be paid for all of Friday and the few hours I missed on Monday. Third, I wanted assurance that he would give me a little more respect when we had interactions in the future. I didn't even have to ask for the first two. He immediately offered those up. As a friend, he told me that he was under a great deal of stress and it would never happen like that again. I went back to work for a few weeks before we had another showdown that ended with.

"Clock out and go home!"

When I got to my house I called up his boss and put in my two weeks notice. Do I regret it? Yes and no. Yes I regret it because I had an awful time trying to land another job with my specialized skill set. No I still didn't feel bad for sticking to my guns when I knew I was right. After my most recent fiasco I touched on here, I found I lose more sleep over swallowing my pride and going against my nature than losing the actual job. Maybe I am problem child and need to learn how to handle things better but I have no idea how.

Take this job and...well, you know.

This is per Jane's request.

My first job was a part time gig at a local fast food establishment. It was within two blocks of my home and was the first place I applied. To protect the guilty, we'll call it Burger Royal Dude or BRD. I was only allowed to work on weekends because my mother didn't want it to interfere with my high speed public education. At any rate, I was a hard worker and learned the burger trade rather quickly. I started out working the meat conveyor. Slapping in frozen patties and buns on one end and taking cooked versions out the other. I worked this position for exactly two weeks before I was promoted to fries. Not bad for a weekend warrior. I guess they saw my potential as a burger prodigy or just needed someone to salt the fries when the normal fry guy quit. From fries, I quickly moved up to "the other than burger table" where I learned to prepare chicken and fish sandwiches. Before I knew it, I was at the burger table where I mastered the art of assembling burgers made to order. I was fast, I was accurate, I could sling beef like nobodies business. It got to the point where, during a moderate rush, I could man the entire kitchen almost single handedly. They gave me a .15 cent raise and recommended me for employee of the month. I was now a burger demigod. Were it not for my part time status, I surely would have been on the management fast track.

They gave me yet more responsibility. The store employed a night time cleaning dude. This guy came in after hours and cleaned certain equipment that was difficult or impossible to clean during business hours. Stuff like the meat conveyor and filter the grease in the fryers. His only night off was Saturday. I was given the privilege of taking up his slack on Saturday nights. I was taught how to clean and service this equipment. I did not enjoy this aspect of my work as a burger demigod but did it to the best of my ability. We were able to get much of this work done while still open. Management liked it this way because they didn't want us to be there past 12:00 AM. Mostly because those of us in school weren't, legally, allowed to be there any later.

Time went forward, as it always does. We had some management turnover. A couple new people came in and decided to shake things up. They added a suggestion box and started to make changes in an effort to prove how big their appendages were and show the upper management that they were effective. The new team leaders came down un us hard. The start of my downfall came one night when a particular manager (we'll call her I'm the Fucking Boss And I'm Going to Make Sure You Know It or FBAIGMSYKI) told me to add cleaning the base boards to my Saturday night regime. Now, being the demigod burger flipper/teenager I was, I didn't appreciate being given this task. I thought it was more of a meat conveyor type job. But I accepted this new duty. FBAIGMSYKI also cut staff after nine on Saturdays. This didn't make things any easier on me with my additional duties and all.

One night, about a week later, I stood with scrubby mop in hand cleaning the base boards in the kitchen. FBAIGMSYKI comes up to me and says "What are you doing?"

"Cleaning the base boards like you asked me to last week." I reply.

She comes back with, "No no no! You need to use your hands and a brillo pad."

Cooly I say, "Why? This is a scrubby mop and works just fine. You didn't say anything about this last week."

Clearly perturbed she hisses, "You will get down on your grubby little hands and knees and clean those base boards properly."

I about exploded at that point but remained calm and said, "I am not your slave and this is working just fine. I have a ton of other work to do while making food the whole time. You've been getting on us about getting out of here late on Saturdays yet you still give me more work to do."

She looks at me like I just slapped her. Despite being a woman of color, I can see her face turn red and the veins start popping out of her head. She says nothing, turns around, and stomps back to her office. At the end of the night, as we are shutting off the interior lights at 12:45 AM she hands me a paper to sign. She wrote me up. I looked at it and signed on the line.

The next day I came in early and wrote an angry letter about the staffing shortage on Saturday nights. I included examples of how we things had changed and it had directly affected worker morale of the Saturday night crew. The letter was long and strongly worded. It also asked for a reason I had to get down on my "grubby little hands and knees" to clean the base boards. I included a Saturday schedule that would allow me to effectively get the work done and still be out of the store at midnight. I put the letter in the suggestion box.

Three months past with no changes. I came in for my normal Saturday rotation. I walk to the back to clock in. My time card is not there. I check the schedule and see that I'm not on the on it tonight. But I am for Sunday for a whopping two hours. This weekend gig is my only source of income and now instead of sixteen hours, I'm down to two. I turn around an there is FBAIGMSYKI. I ask why my hours have been cut and why nobody bothered to tell me that I wasn't on the schedule tonight. She tells me to follow her to the office. When we get there she pulls out the letter I wrote three months ago with a smirk on her face and says, "This is why."

I lost it.

I unleashed every obscenity I had at the woman. I was a raving lunatic. I yelled so loud that work in the restaurant stopped and customers could hear in the dining room. I told her where she could shove her two hour schedule. I told her that, just because her ancestors were slaves, didn't mean it was OK for her to treat me like one. I asked her if it took her three months to read the three page letter I wrote or if she had to find someone to read it to her. With tears welling up in her eyes I finally took of my BRD shirt and threw it at the bitch. I stormed out bear chested screaming "I Fucking quit!" over and over again. Several of my coworkers applauded me as I left.

I called before I went to get my last check. Luckily it wasn't FBAIGMSYKI who answered the phone. I was told by the other manager, who was surprisingly sympathetic as to the nature in which I quit, that they would mail my last check and I was no longer welcome in the restaurant as an employee or a customer.

It wasn't the last job I quit due to a huge confrontation.

The make up sex isn't worth it.

L. and I had a huge fight Tuesday.

The moral of the story.
Never NEVER NEVER call your wife "stupid" no matter how much of a bone-head move she made.

Sorry babe. You're right, I'm wrong and I've never been happier.

Can we recover?

OK anyone else see this mid east thing is getting out of control? It seems a little extreme that the Israelis are bombing the shit out of a whole country because they kidnapped some soldiers. If we did stuff like that, there would be a bunch of nations that would closely resemble parking lots right now. It feels like this is a puppet fight between two countries with our administration pulling strings on one side and Iran/Syria pulling strings on the other. I have a feeling that this is going to get incredibly ugly if true connections are made. If this escalates much more, the USA is going to be in an all out war we could very well loose. As much as it pains me to say it, every great civilization has its peak and we may be past ours. Thing's can only go on so long before something snaps and we may be at that point as a nation. In a way the cold war was comforting compared to what we're up against now.

Glenn's solutions:

Readopt isolationism.
Let's start minding our own business. Let's forget the outside world for a while and look at doing some housekeeping. Clean up the boarders and build "Fortress America." Let us accept defeat and withdraw. Just throw up our hands and say "Fuck it! You guys win this battle." Let us bring our soldiers home and post them within our nation to guard the homeland. Let's shut off emigration for a while and clean that system up before we open the doors to the huddles masses once again.

Wait until they beg for help instead of forcing our help upon them.
If people really need assistance they reach out. It's not our job to police the world. From now on, when the UN asks us to be their big stick we need to ask them "What's in it for us?" When ever they decide that it's time to enforce the resolutions they keep passing, and regimes keep ignoring, they need to beg for our assistance. We supply the biggest force for dealing with these thugs and we front most of the bill as well. Then we go blow the shit out of them and take all the flack when a bomb goes astray. To top it all off, we rebuild all the shit we just blew up and prop them up after we're done. They keep taking and taking and we just keep giving and giving.

Lets straighten out our deficit.
This is a one step process. Rewind the clock back to 1946. Tally all bills owed to the US for lend/lease, raw materials and loans. Just from three nations. Russia, Britain, and France. Adjust for interest and inflation over sixty years and ask for our money and equipment back. Poof! Deficit gone.

Peer pressure works.
When dealing with these rouge states, we need to warn their people, not just their government, that they are all accountable for the actions of their country. Much like they do to us. Then maybe they will try to reign their own government instead of us doing it for them. We also need to take back our own government. These fat asses up in Washington are so far out of touch with reality that they need a good slap in the face to bring them back around. I have no idea how to do this other than going around and slapping each and every one. We need to show these idiots exactly who the boss is. It's us! We run this damn country not them!!!

Welcome to the inner geek.

I'm deathly afraid of my wife finding out about this blog. No I haven't told her it exists and I don't plan to. It's not that I have anything to hide. I share almost (about 95% of whats here) everything with her anyway. I just want this to be my outlet for the things that I need to get off my chest and I don't want to have to sensor myself because she or anyone else I know might be reading it. So far, putting my words down here has been therapeutic. It is sort of like a relief valve for my life. When I get a little built up anxiety, I unload on the site instead of the people I love. One of my more recent goals has been to get back in touch with my emotions. My mother was the only one who ever really brought out the truly soft side of my personality. Even L. (my wife) can't read me the way mom used to. I've always internalized my emotions and, recently, I feel that it's detrimental to my well being. So here is my outlet. I can honestly say that it has helped me climb out of my shell a little. It seems to be helping and I hope I can go deeper as this thing cruises along. I'll probably tell L. eventually. I'm just not ready yet.

Planes I would like to fly...

Extra 300













This picture isn't upside down. The Extra 300 is one of the premier aerobatic planes on the planet and the main reason its on my fly list.




Sonex













I want to build this plane for myself. The reason is that I can't find a better performing airplane for my money. Dollar for dollar this is the best value in general aviation as far as I'm concerned.




A-10











This is a flying tank that will turn on a dime. They were in the process of decommissioning these things until the first gulf war. These things kicked so much ass that they were refitted for continued service. If you're in an enemy tank and you see one of these on the horizon just abandon ship because your tank is about to look something like Swiss cheese and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.




DC-3













Believe it or not this humble looking airplane changed the world of aviation. It was the first plane to ever generate a profit as an airliner without the assistance of mail contracts. It was a logistical wonder in WWII delivering troops supplies and anything else that could be crammed in it. It was also a major participant in the Berlin Air Lift. This pre WWII design was used by the military all the way up until Vietnam where it took on a roll as a gun ship that spit so much lead that it was called "Puff The Magic Dragon." These planes have staying power. Several are still in use today as a catch all for just about everything from skydiving to salvage operations.




P-40 Warhawk













Looks mean don't it? At one point this plane was the measuring stick by which all others on the planet were compared but was almost obsolete when WWII started. The "Warhawk" was the primary weapon used by the Flying Tigers. They were an all volunteer group of Americans that joined the war fighting for the Chinese against Japan. These planes were completely outclassed by their Japanese rivals yet the Tigers managed to fight off everything that was thrown at them through superior tactics and strategy. The Flying Tigers were about the only thing that challenged the Japanese in the air above China. I want to fly one simply for the cool factor.

I'VE GOT IT!

For the longest time it bugged me. The concoction in the soap dispensers at work held a vaguely familiar smell. It was a scent from my distant past. It wasn't an overpowering smell. It wasn't flowery. It had no strong cologne-like aroma. But it was familiar and drove me crazy for the longest time. After washing my hands today it hit me. Instantly in a big "woosh" of recognition it came back to me...

Play-Doh! It smells like Play-Doh!

Maybe I'll be able to sleep better now.

True rambling.

I'm in a funk today. Twenty hours of work isn't helping. I feel the need to shake things up in my life. I just don't know where to start or even if I should.

Lately I've been feeling the need to socialize and make new friends. I've been wanting to go and hang out in little bars and talk to new people. L. is an extreme homebody and, most of the time, I'm the same. Every once in a while I feel the need to stir things up. Sometimes I get that need fulfilled from playing bar poker. But lately I've been wanting more. I feel like I'm stuck on a merry go round. I go to work. I go home. I go to the gym. I work on my car. Every week. Over and over. I want more and it makes me feel like I'm just being spoiled.

I do get out. Monday, L. and I went and had brunch at a cool little cafe near little five points. We went to a museum and had some Tai food for dinner. It was good times. Tuesday we drove to the VW shop so I could pick up some parts. I asked her to come so she could keep me company on the ride because it's about an hour away. I got all the parts on my list and we had some dinner at a country buffet on the way back. I forgot how much I like chicken and dumplings. Wednesday I woke up late and worked on my car for a little while. My buddy T. called me and invited us to go play poker and have dinner at a local bar with he and his wife. L. and I had free food coupons we won the last time we played there so we couldn't refuse. Dos Equis Amber taste even better when they're free. They invited us to join them for a weekend in FL at the end of this month so I have that to look forward to. It was a great weekend for me. So why do I feel so restless this week?

I guess I go through phases. Maybe I'm a descendant of a nomadic group of people or something. I just want to get out and experience something new. This would explain my recent dreams. It could just be that summer is here and I want to make the most of it while it lasts.

Maybe I just need a good friend to hang with here. Don't get me wrong, I love L. and she IS my best friend but to expect her to fulfill my every social need is unrealistic. I'm not a typical guy that follows sports religiously or needs a guys night out every week. But I'm still a man and every once in a while I need to go out and tell fart jokes without estrogen hampering my manly nature. I guess moving to Georgia has left a rift in my social life. My best friend lives back in Florida and there isn't anyone here yet that has filled that void. I still talk to him every once in a while but it's not the same as having a bud to hang with. My friends here all work the same crazy hours that I do. Only they are on different rotations. Combine that with the fact that most people on the planet are sucking down brews in a bar right now while I work this slow mid shift, and I can see why I haven't filled my need for a new local best bud.

I suppose this restlessness could stem from my recent addiction to blogs. I keep reading about other peoples lives and end up jealous of the interesting lives they seem to be living. My brain tells me that most of the things I read aren't any more interesting than my own life but I still want to be these people sometimes. I read about single people dating and I feel that little pang of excitement that goes away after you are married. I remember what being single is like and it wasn't fun most of the time. The cool thing about it was the anticipation of the next significant other. The memories that haven't been made yet. That first nervous kiss. The excitement of discovering new things about them. These things are more fleeting the longer you've been married. Reading blogs has also triggered my wanderlust. I want to go exploring. I want to see new towns and different places. I've realized that it's important to me. I want to explore some of the places that I've never seen and revisit places I've been. It reminds me that life is too friggin short. I want to get around while I'm still young enough to enjoy it. My mother always wanted to make a round-the-country trip but she never had the chance. I want to make it a goal of my own to do it. When? I have no clue, but I do know that I need to make it happen sometime soon or I'll never get to it. I read something on a blog the other day that went something like this...

As we get older, our dreams stay the same, but the time we have to accomplish those dreams gets shorter every day. The sad part is when you come to the realization that you can't or are unable accomplish those dreams.

Profound.

If your friends jump off a bridge...

Unable to get to sleep last night (which seems to be a regular occurrence anymore) I ended up watching this 20/20 episode. I don't remember much because I was completely out of it. A portion was about the polarization or "The Big Sort" of communities to a political parity. What did stick in my semi-conscious head was the experiment they filmed in which groups of people from different "blue" and "red" communities come together and try to come to a consensus about issues facing the country. The experiment seemed to prove that mob mentality applies to politics. When several people got together and discussed issues, the majority was usually able to sway the minority to their beliefs. It was implied that the minority in the each group went along in an effort to be accepted by the group as a whole. The scary part was that the group minority seemed to end up on extreme sides of the argument even though they may not have agreed at all to begin with.

So the entire experiment proved one thing in my little pea brain. People will hand over their spine in an effort to be a part of the group. This puts a huge dent in my faith that common sense will eventually triumph over stupidity.