Merry Christmas Everyone

Simplicity

♫ Mama told me, when I was young

Come sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say.
And if you do this, It'll help you
Some sunny day.

 Oh take your time... Don't live too fast,
Troubles will come, and they will pass.
Go find a woman and you'll find love,
And don't forget son,
There is someone up above.

And be a simple kind of man.
Oh be somethin' , you'll love and understand.
Baby be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can?

Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need is in your soul,
And you can do this if you try.
All that I want for you my son,
Is to be satisfied.

And be a simple kind of man.

Oh be somethin', you'll love and understand.
Baby be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can?

Boy, don't you worry... you'll find yourself.
Follow you heart and nothing else.
And you can do this, oh baby, if you try.
All I want for you my son,
Is to be satisfied.

And be a simple kind of man
Oh be somethin', you'll love and understand.
Baby be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can? ♫

You know that old saying about cats having nine lives?  It doesn't make any sense, right?  I mean, I've seen dead cats before.  They're just dead, man.  And I'm pretty sure nobody killed them eight other times.

So I'm not sure about the whole nine lives thing, but I'm pretty certain that I've had at least two lives.  I had the life where I endured stress and responsibility.  I wanted the things that I didn't have (didn't have yet, as far as I was concerned).  I did whatever it took to get them.  I longed for some kind of mental and emotional perfection that really never was going to materialize, but I refused to accept this.  I was smart enough, strong enough, and talented enough to impose my will on the world, by golly.  In some ways I did so successfully.  In others, not so much.

The painful disappointments in my life have been numerous.  My guess is that many people can relate.  The odd thing, though, is that the electrifying successes have been just as numerous.  Many people can probably relate to this as well.  Little things, big things, whatever.  There have been more times than I could count when I've looked in the mirror and thought I had the world by the balls, if only for a moment.  And then the moment would pass, as it always does, and I would be left either facing the next disappointment or seeking the next triumph.  The cycle would never end.

Only... it did end.  I don't know that I can pinpoint the moment when it happened.  More likely it was a gradual process.  Somehow though, one way or another, I discarded my entire life and way of thinking.  I was blessed in the sense that I managed to lose everything that was important to me at a relatively young age.  This probably doesn't sound like any great blessing on the surface but, in my case, it most certainly was one.  I was forced to re-examine my assumptions about the world and about myself.  I concluded that most of the world was full of shit and I was probably more full of shit than anyone.  So I decided to take the advice of that weird guy in Risky Business.  "Sometimes you gotta say, 'What the fuck...'"

And this second life was born.  I woke with a hangover one morning and decided that I might as well become a truck driver.  What the fuck, right?  Why not?  So I spent a few weeks learning from a truck driving school in the ghetto and then I got to work.

As I bounced around the country during the following four years, I gained an appreciation for how simple life really can be if you're willing to accept it.  Sleeping at a truck stop is a drag, people will tell you.  Maybe so, but at the Flying J in Pecos (for example) you could get fast enough internet service to watch a football game while your Swedish buddy could buy a twelve-pack of beer.  Sitting at a loading dock without getting paid is bullshit, people will tell you.  Maybe so, but that time at the dock also allowed for an occasional few hours to do nothing but kick back and read a book.  How many people who are caught up in the rat race will ever have that kind of free time, I wonder.

I suppose that the best benefit of the last few years was the time to myself.  Loneliness is loneliness and this is not to be disregarded, but it's all relative.  Nobody had my attention.  Nobody bothered me.  Nobody expected anything from me.  I just rolled along, free to examine my own thoughts on my own timeline.  Every couple of miles, I made a dollar.  A few miles later, I made another dollar.  Sometimes the traffic or weather would manage to introduce a little bit of stress to the job, but it was always fleeting.  The vast majority of my work could have been performed by a trained monkey.

Now I'm working my way back into life in Michigan, albeit slowly.  I visit with some of my friends some of the time and so forth, but I'm still largely detached from the world that people seem to see.  The timing of my entry into my new line of work has played a role in my slow assimilation, I suspect.  The first few months of work were a rapid-fire learning experience for me, so the job seemed a little harder than it really was.  Then, once I got accustomed to things, the dairy business took off like a rocket and I was content just to get through a given week.  Pulling two loads on most days, getting to the gym on four or five nights a week, and negotiating a painful back injury along the way were more than enough to occupy my time, so I didn't have a chance to fall back into the old ways of seeing the world.

And now we get to tonight.  I pulled another two loads - par for the course these days.  Tomorrow (or today at this point, technically) is my scheduled day off.  Friday is Christmas Eve and there won't be an afternoon shift at work, so I'll take the day off and collect my holiday pay.  Christmas Day is another paid holiday with no work, meaning that I have three consecutive days off for the first time since July.  Add in the fact that my unfortunate lodger has gone to Saginaw to spend the holiday with his family and what do we have?  We have a comfortable couch, a case of beer in the fridge, and no disturbances for at least 72 hours.  No responsibilities to address.  No schedules to fulfill (aside from the usual holiday shindig at Mom's house).  No broads to appease.  Just three days of peace and relaxation.  Life at the moment is very good.

It sounds simplistic, I guess, but I think that's the point.

Godfather Movie Review: 'The Fighter'

In the movie The Naked Gun 2½, Leslie Nielsen's character once said of boxing - "All I know is never bet on the white guy."  Many of us who sunburn easily, work hard to keep our tempers in check, and have a fondness for whiskey and beer... well we tend to see things differently.  Just run some cracker out there and adorn him with shamrocks and we'll be on his side, whether he's any good or not.

Given the above context, it should come as no surprise that I always got a kick out of 'Irish' Micky Ward.  This little pasty white dude was a brawler to the Nth degree and he was fun to watch.  His battles with Arturo Gatti were the stuff of legend, as far as I'm concerned.

I've also always gotten a kick out of Mark Wahlberg's acting.  Given the way he began with the Funky Bunch, I was a skeptic in the early going.  After I saw the movie The Corruptor though, I was impressed.  Mr. Wahlberg's performances over the years since then have rarely disappointed me.

So there was a likelihood that I might enjoy a movie about Micky Ward, starring Mark Wahlberg.  There's always a fly in the ointment though, isn't there?  For me, that fly is Hollywood.  I would say conservatively that I have an interest in seeing perhaps one of every fifty movies that these modern hacks produce.  I enjoyed quite a few movies from days of yore, but the whole industry seems to have gotten lazy.  Of the very few movies that strike my interest, I actually go out and watch perhaps one in ten.  Of the ones I do end up seeing in a theater, I enjoy roughly half.  Hmmm, what are the odds for today's screening then?  One way to find out...

I found a 4pm showing at a local establishment and headed out to see the picture.  The actors were believable and entertaining.  Aside from the headliners, who did a very nice job, there were some excellent character actors in various roles.  (At the $4.50 twilight rate, just the gals playing Micky's sisters were probably worth the price.)  The plot kept moving nicely and provided a surprising number of laughs to go along with the drama.  The boxing sequences weren't exactly true to life, but they weren't nearly as cheesy as the scenes in Rocky either.  The story itself is a typical American 'feel good after a struggle' kind of deal.  Certain liberties were taken with recorded boxing history, but I guess that's where the "based on" part of "based on a true story" comes into play.  I'm often guilty of being annoyed by outright movie fabrications, but in this case I really didn't care.  I'm sure that the producers don't think many people will even know.  I suspect that they're correct.  The movie was a lot of fun to watch and that's the most important part.

You'll likely see Christian Bale receive some award nominations for his role as Ward's older brother - Dicky Eklund.  In a movie where the acting was pretty solid all around, Bale really did stand out.  Perhaps it was the sheer over-the-top douchebaggery of his character, but for whatever reason he was impressive.

Unless you grew up with June and Ward Cleaver, you'll probably see at least a little of your own family in the story.  I certainly did.

Overall, we'll have to give this one four out of five strings.

Holy jeez...

This is impressive.