j031007 (imported)
October 7, 2003
First off, I need to address an issue.
My wife has accused me of calling Scott William Winters “the ugliest man alive.” Then she links up a glamour shot of him all looking like the bee’s knees. I need to clear the air.
Scott William Winters is not the ugliest man alive. He’s one of the ugliest men alive. I say this because when we see him he doesn’t look like that dandy picture she used, no. He looks like this:
You know what I hate? I hate it when I’m in the mood to write something, and I have absolutely nothing to write about.
Shit, shit, shit.
Time for some stream of consciousness writing, methinks.
I tore through The Power is Within You like Rush Limbaugh through an Oxycontin prescription. I liked it so much I went to Books-A-Million last night –
Robyn and I have decided that BAM is like the Walmart of bookstores. Barnes and Noble, on the other hand, is the Target. There’s just a certain ambiance about the B&N that makes you want to stay there for hours, browsing, while BAM just makes you want to get the hell out. Plus, B&N carries MY magnificent work, which makes them a-okay in my book, unlike the BAM buttnuggets who refuse to even look at the book until it has a national distributor.
– to see if they had any more books by Louise L. Hay. They had a couple, but neither interested me. I checked Barnes and Noble earlier today at lunch and they had a few more, but nothing that really piqued my curiosity.
However, I digress.
I loved the book, just consumed it in three chunks of reading time. And the weird part is, I’m not sure WHY I liked it so much. It’s like some of her precepts spoke to me on a deeper level, like they put me into the same sort of creative mental state that reading my first Tony Robbins book did. Which is kind of embarrassing, because she’s into the Science of Mind mumbo-jumbo stuff, much like my parents once were.
This leads me to a frightening truth, something I’ve been avoiding but must now face. The appeal of some of the new age stuff (though in my defense I think chakras, channeling, rolfing, and the like are all a bunch of hooey); the new growth of hair out of both my nose and my ears; the easy annoyance with every other driver on the road; the obsession with keeping the grass cut and looking good; the bitching about today’s kids: they all point to one thing.
I have become my father, God help me.
Speaking of Rush Limbaugh, does anyone else see the irony in the notion that the man who supported the government’s idiotic war on drugs is quite possibly a drug addict himself? I mean, that would be almost as funny as a big religious leader who preaches against adultery getting caught with a hooker or a great moralizer having a big gambling problem.
Oh, wait.
What gets me about the whole thing is that Rush hasn’t denied being an addict. I’m thinking if someone accused me of something like that and I wasn’t, I’d sure as shit make it known. But, time will tell, I suppose. It’s not really my business whether the man is an addict or not, as long as he’s doing no harm to anyone but himself. Like other addicts (if he IS one), he needs treatment, not jail.
Damn. I just recommended a compassionate solution instead of a punishing one. Does that make me a liberal?
(Full disclosure: I don’t like the idea of a nanny state, and as such, think the government needs to worry about government stuff, and not about protecting people from themselves. Ergo, I think laws like those against gambling, drugs, prostitution, and those requiring people to wear seatbelts or helmets are inane. Freedom. Liberty. Pursuit of happiness. Remember those?)
And speaking of liberals, and therefore politics, have you ever noticed that so many personal political-type web sites — both on the left and the right — resort to nothing but name-calling to prove a point? Is this something I missed in debate class in high school?
I don’t know about you guys, but if I see former President Clinton called “Klintoon” or “Slick Willie”, or Democrats called “Dim-o-crats” or “DemocRATS” (caveat: it’s okay for me to call them yellow-dog Democrats, because that’s a humor tool, much like the fun-poking I do at Canadians), or the current President referred to as “Shrub” or “Chimp”, in your argument or post, that pretty much means I’m going to ignore the rest of what you say, no matter how salient your points might be. Things can easily be argued on either side of a political fence without resorting to ad hominem attacks.
Unless, of course, you’re Al Franken and you’re doing it to be ironic. Then it’s funny.
Speaking of Al Franken, I was reminded of Stuart Smalley several times by the Louise Hay book I just read, and a question arises. Do you think people who talk to themselves in the mirror, repeating daily affirmations about themselves and the world, ever stop feeling like a great big dork when they do it?
As a dorky child, I once tripped another kid — several times in a row, actually — with cerebral palsy, simply because I thought it was cool that he seemed to fall in slow motion. Every time he got up and started walking down the hall again, I’d trip him, just to watch.
I got paddled for it, and rightfully so.
Even though it seemed like the thing to do at the time, now I feel like a great big ass when I think about having done it. What about you? Did you ever do anything in your childhood “dumbass phase” (my dumbass phase just ended, I think) that still makes you feel bad when you think about it?
As to doing things that STILL make me ashamed. Absolutely. And I still don’t want to talk about them either. It might be why I have avoided therapy for all these years.
As to rehabilitating Rush rather than jailing him…It makes absolutely no fiscal sense to jail him. That said, I think Rush is a jackass. (See, I called names at the end of my comment, so you’d have to read the whole thing.!)
I remember in elementary school I stuck an ice cream cone in the face of a handicapped child and smooshed it around, when the teacher came running over because he was crying I said he grabbed my cone and rammed his face in it and I got all sniffled nose and the teacher sent the aide with me to buy another one and she apologized for him being so mean.By the time I got back the tattle tale Amanda had told the truth and I got paddled also and I deserved it. Of course I lied and said I did not do it and never have admitted the truth, until now
Kids can be cruel. I have felt horrible about it for many years.
In fourth grade, I would tell my “best friend” every day that I wasn’t going to be her friend anymore just because I knew it would make her cry. Would you believe I caught up with her last year after almost 20 years of no communication (I moved away that summer)and she still hates me for that? She swears it ruined her life and that she has trust issues with women now. Oops!
Thanks for the opportunity to cleanse my childhood regrets. It was worth $10 for me!
I’m a special ed. teacher so you would have been in so much trouble if I had seen you. I probably would have had you call home and explain what you were doing to that kid. Actually we were all pretty mean at one time or another. You just made me remember this kid that moved in and everyone couldn’t stand her. It was awful! She just got on everyone’s nerves like you wouldn’t believe. I wonder what ever happened to her. No one would talk to her and if they did it was to be UGLY to her. Yes, me too. Everyone has regrets. Remember that movie FLATLINERS-the one where Kevin Bacon goes to find the girl that he tormented?
Mine is not so cruel as it is stupid, but it still makes me wonder, “What the heck was I thinking?”
I used to babysit for this family by the last name of Tuck. I didn’t care for the mother of the child I kept, and I was about 12 years old. Anyway, she’d be giving me instructions from the other room and I’d play with her name. Whatever she’d say I’d respond, “yes, Mrs. Uck.” or “sure, Mrs. Fuck.” You get the picture. It wasn’t cruel but downright disrespectful. She’d look at me funny and I’d keep a straight face as though I’d said it properly. So Mrs. Tuck wherever you are…….I’m really sorry!
I remember once in about fourth grade, I don’t remember what this one little boy had done to me but I DO remember kicking him in the shin as hard as I could! I was wearing a pair of those big clunky shoes that were popular in the 70’s. He was a nice little boy too, and he cried his head off. To this day I still feel like an ass. I saw him out once years ago in a bar and apologized! He laughed and said he didn’t really even remember it, I sure do.
I don’t remember how old I was, but I’m sure it was
less than 10, and a neighborhood mom babysat a bunch of us. There was a girl a few years younger than me who, for some reason, adored and looked up to me, and I used to alternate between being nice to her and suddenly being hateful and mean, just to see the hurt expression on her face. Wow. I need a time-out…
And Fred, I guess I’m also becoming your father, because most of those things apply to me and I’m a 24 year old female. It’s ok for me to bitch about “today’s kids,” right, or am I considered one of them? (And also, the nose & ear hair don’t apply to me, but pretty much the rest of it does!)
One time in the sixth grade, this guy I was friends with, J. Horn [I’ll leave his first name at that!], confessed that he liked me. Well, being young and stupid, I was HORRIFIED, and told everyone that this freakwod liked me, and all of my friends started taunted him daily with “Oh, it’s Jeff HORNY! Horny for Paula!” It was funny at the time, haha, actually, it still makes me laugh, but I figure that his feelings were probably really hurt. I wrote him a letter a few years later (I had moved away) apologizing, and he said he forgave me. So hopefully he took me off his “People to Kill” list. Another time at the same school, this guy was running around untying all of the girls shoes, and to get revenge, I ran up and pantsed him. He was totally horrified. I felt bad, but hey, revenge is sweet!
Can I tell one that I didn’t regret? I will anyway…
7th Grade,,,Home-Ec. The school girl bully always came in the class and ate things like chocolate chips - whatever baking supplies were in there. One day, we were making cupcakes. Chocolate cupcakes. I decided to make her a special batch. (No - not with exlax!) Anyway, these two cupcakes were gobbed with icing made from salt and baking soda and some sugar as well. The actual cupcake was made with chocolate etc with a few extra ingredients like salt, paprika, pepper, tobasco. Just about anything I could find.
End a long story, out on the playground was a cupcake with a big bite taken out of it. She told me she would have my brother beat me up. But she never came back into the class and did it again.
I said the exact same thing as you did about Rush not denying he is a drug addict.I would be highly upset if anyone said that about me.However I heard that he may have been told to not saying anything because of an investigation going on that will clear him.I don’t know..
hi fred. i’m holly. i read your page. i also read your book and i’m linking it. yay. now i’m not an anonymous lurker anymore!
I once jokingly told a pregnant lady that she needed to get off the elevator because we have now reached the maximum weight capacity. The worst part was she was one of my staff members. Anyway, I got my “punishment” several years later when I was shifted to the back of a tiny plane (DC to Newark) to make it heavier for take-off!
Ack! I missed the childhood part. But the story still stands.
I know what you mean - I once called a girl a “retard” because she was a bit slower than the people I usually hung out with. I didn’t say it to her face, but I felt, and do still feel bad about it. I was once offered a chance at “redemption” when just about 6 years ago I saw her walking down a downtown street. I saw this as my opportunity to say sorry, and . . . I froze. She didn’t even look at me, no signs of recognition, nothing, and I just couldn’t say “sorry”. I still wish for another shot.
~~Winter
I must have been a great kid. I have no childhood regrets. Shame shame shame on the rest of you. (Now that made you feel badly, didn’t it?)
Mine was in 1st Grade. I had a classmate who’s name was Venus and also was differnt looking. Not ugly, just different, can’t quite explain. Anyway, we all made fun of her, especially saying how she’s really from Venus and that’s why she looks like she does and has that silly name. There are times I wonder if we messed her up or if it made her stronger, I hope stronger.
Fred you hit the nail on the head (don’t you just hate those phrases?!) with regards to name-calling and politics. Do you mind if I steal that paragraph? I’ll give you credit.
Well, I guess mine is both cruel AND stupid, and I appreciate this opportunity to get this off of my chest. When I was 16, I babysat for a Jewish family. I don’t know what the heck I was thinking but I thought it would be funny to leave a swastika on their etch a sketch. Needless to say, they never called me again. I don’t know what ever possessed me to think that was funny and I just hate that I ever did it . . . this happened 21 years ago and I still cringe everytime I think about it. I ran into them a few years later in a restaurant and wish that I had gone over to them and apologized but I didn’t. There’s little chance that I’ll run into them now since I’ve moved to a different state. Oh well. I guess I need to just forgive myself. We’ve all done stupid things in our youth!
Michele — I don’t mind at all. Heck, I’m flattered.
And boy, all those other comments make me not feel half as bad about tripping Richard as a child… Ya’ll some evil mo-fos!
inane huh? i like the pursuit of happiness too…think they should legalize pot? hmmm???
Amber — you bet I do.
In grade 6 while on the bus, I horked a HUGE ass loogy into the hair of a kid everyone made fun of in elementary school. The thing is, I should have known better because I KNEW what it felt like to be teased. His name was Clark,and here in Canada we have a brand of beans called “Clark Beans,” so his name was “Beans” forEVER. Or Click. Or Clack. Or Cluck. Or Binns. He had this really rough, wiry hair, and I don’t even think he felt it when I let the gob fall on the top of his head. We made up this story, about the family of beans that lived in his hair. There was even a bean circus, with a bean tamer.
Even with all of the torture (this poor kid really had a rotten home life), by highschool he turned out to be fairly normal, and likeable.
Anyway, he found me via ICQ about 2 years ago, and really wanted to chat with me. So we did. I apologized big time, and he sort of laughed about it, but in that really creepy kind of way that you don’t really believe he’s okay with the past. He ended up getting a little “possessive” in that if I didn’t answer an email ASAP, he freaked out and started saying that I thought I was better than him, or something like that.
Anyway. wow. rant.
I just remembered another one, and wanted to come back in post it. During my high school graduation, I was walking with the Valedictorian, so we had to walk out first. She was on the other side of the gym (we walked out seperately and met in the middle of the gym, then walked forward) so I had to listen for the piano to start playing the graduation song so we could walk out. Well, everyone behind me was talking and I couldn’t hear if the piano was playing, so I yelled “EVERYONE SHUTUP! I can’t hear the piano playing, and it’s going to start and we’ll all be standing back here like a bunch of retards!” That’s when I realized that the special ed seniors were walking out on our side, and were in line behind me. Their teacher glared at me and said “We. Don’t. Use. That. Word. Here.” In the bitchiest tone ever. I felt HORRIBLE, I didn’t realize the special ed kids were behind me. So I’ve felt bad about that ever since.