Idle Ramblings of a Slightly Mad Man

The scene is a Supermarket, the non foods aisle.  Specifically, Aisle 2 - hairspray, shampoo, hair dyes, hair clips, hair ties hair nets and brushes and combs.  Everything one might need for hair it’s there. 

My wife and I are in that aisle, and as we casually walk the aisle, my wife and I are conversing about nothing.  Literally nothing.  I whimsically make a comment that I can’t believe that Aquanet still exists and I tell her the same old story about when I was in High School, had the long rocker hair that would be teased up like I was member of some 80’s hairband and how my friends and I in the band would douse our hair with Aquanet and rock out.  If only Liquid Life took off and rocked the world.

She is only half paying attention to me as I am pushing the cart and she is walking in front of it scanning the price tags for the sale prices and checking if we have coupons to match.  This is the hell my life has become.

We stop at the end of the aisle, in front of the hair clips, hair ties, fake hanging hair attached to clips, brushes and combs and the following conversation occurs totally out of the blue.

Wife:  You need a new brush!

Me:  I need a new brush?

Wife:  Yes.

Me:  Why?

Wife:  Yours is out dated.

Me:  It’s what?!?!

Wife:  It’s out dated.

Me:  It’s out dated.

Wife:  Yes.  You’ve had it since high school probably.

Me:  Ok.  Let’s assume that you are correct for a moment and that I have had that brush since high school.  How can a brush be out dated?

Wife:  Have you seen your brush?

Me:  Ummm…. yes.  And it looks just like that one (pointing to a similar one on the shelf).  It fully serves its function without fail.  It brushes my hair.  It’s functional and operational.   I did not realize that brushes have expiration dates.  I did not know that they go out of style.  I did not know that my brush was a fashion statement.  I didn’t know that I was no longer hip because I have held onto a brush longer than I have held onto my Members Only jacket.  You should be thankful that I no longer carry my comb in my back pocket.  Carrying combs in the back pocket - that is out dated.  My brush, I’m thinking not so much.

Wife:  Now you’re just being an idiot.

Me:  Me?!?!

Wife:  Never mind.  Keep using that old stupid brush of yours. 

Me:  Ummm….  I was planning on it.

Wife:  Good!

Me:  Good.  Besides, it wasn’t on sale and we didn’t have a coupon for it.

Do you think that our loved ones that have passed on can see us?  Do they really look down upon us from Heaven?

Sometimes I like to think that my father or my grandmother do look down on me and can see me growing up, see my family grow and see how successful I have become.  It is a comforting thought.  I like to think that they can see all the good things that I do.  Do they approve of what I’ve become?  Approve of how I’ve been raising my kids? 

I wonder.

I wonder if they see it all.  All the great moments in our lives, all the sad, all the funny and all the bad. 

All the bad…..  Do they see the bad too?  The fights with my wife?  The time I wrote on some guy’s shoe on the airplane?  The guy I flipped the bird at because he cut in front of me in traffic?  Do they see all that too?

Are our loved ones always up there watching and able to see all?  Do they watch when I am going to the bathroom and wiping my ass?  Are they watching me as I shower?  Are they watching as I make love to my wife? 

Or worse yet?  Is dear, dead Aunt Mabel looking down as I am wanking my pud?

The Philadelphia Soul is an AFL Football team, for those that may not know.  I am a season ticket holder.  I have been now for a few years.  My wife and I go and have a great time.  We don’t get many dates out together much and this is one thing we both look forward to.

So we went to yesterday’s game and while in the main concourse we were stopped by a gentleman asking if we would be interested in “upgrading” our tickets.  I was skeptical at first, one because it seemed like an odd question and two, I really like where my season tickets are located.

The guy started to explain that we would be sitting down behind the end zone.  Again, I was reluctant because I have sat in end zone sections and I am not a big fan watching the game from those end zone seats because of the net and uprights that can be in your line of sight.  Then as the guy went through his explanation, I started to put two and two together and realized, before he even said the words, that he was talking about the two recliner seats that are part of the Aarons Lucky Dog seats that are in the end zone, below the uprights and the netting.  These seats are almost like sitting on the field. 

Of course my wife and I said yes and before the game started we were led down under the Wachovia Center and guided to the seats.  We then were introduced to Melissa (one of the game hosts) and briefed as to what will happen when she speaks to us and we are presented to the crowd.  My wife was nervous.  She is not someone that enjoys all eyes on her.  After our promo appearance we were able to relax and enjoy the game. 

I have to say that I always wondered what one had to do to win those seats and now I know that it is totally random and being lucky.  What a great way to watch a game. 

From those seats we saw tons of action, got close to the players and action on the field.  At the end of the game, for the last 3 minutes of the game, Soulman (the team mascot) sat with us and cheered on the Soul as the won their 5 game in a row this season. 

Rewatching the game (I DVR’d it) and putting it in perspective, it was not a very interesting game, it was a rather dull game.  Many penalties by both teams, Moten and Mance did not play well defensively for the Soul, in my opinion, and on field action was rather tame.  But being down there in those seats made it one of the best games I have ever attended. 

Thanks to the Soul for such a great promotion and giving to average fans the best seats in the house. 

I won’t say that I did it under protest but I was not really 100% into getting the procedure done.  I was very apprehensive but I did it because my wife wanted me to get it done. 

I got my teeth whitened.  I went through the same vain procedure that the rich and famous go through.  I have to say that the results were great.  My teeth are whiter but it was not a quick and easy procedure.

I arrived at my dentist’s office and spent the next 2 hours in a chair that was not made for any person to spend 2 hours in.  I would rather sit in economy class on an airplane for 6 hours. 

I am not sure of all the exact dentist terminology or anything but basically they take some before pictures and then force this mouth opener thing into your mouth.  It looks like those torture BDSM devices that I have only see pictures of on the internet.  It was very uncomfortable, especially for 2 hours.  I felt like I could have swallowed an entire roll of Bounty Extra Quilted paper towels. 

The dentist then puts a lot of numbing lotion on your teeth and gums and then some cotton wads and then pulls out this laser gun looking thing and starts to zap your teeth.  This gun puts out some heat.  How do I know?  Where the dentist missed with the numbing lotion on the gums, I got burned.  And, with that thing shoved in my mouth to keep it open, it did not allow me much of a chance to talk, yell or complain.  Kinda makes me want to get one of those things for the wife and the kids.  The mouth thing, not the laser gun.

So for 2 hours I lay there getting cooked and my mouth getting stretched.  After it was all done I was instructed that I am not to drink anything of color.  As some of you know, I am a tea junkie.  Not being able to drink tea, hot or iced, is torturous for me.  I was never a big soda drinker and Kool-Aid is for kids.  Basically, I am reduced to water for 2 days. 

After the numbing agent wore off, slight pain started to set in and suddenly my teeth were sensitive to everything, hot, cold, liquids, air, my tongue, etc…  And since my teeth hurt, I had a headache too.  I came home from work and went right to bed, at 5PM. 

My wife is happy.  She thinks that it looks sharp. 

The things we do for love.

I have, I think, a very unique viewpoint on life. 

I am not a glass half full type of guy, or a glass half empty.  I look at that cup and wonder who the *&#@ left it there and why didn’t they throw it away!

My mind has often led to trouble arguments fights between my wife and I.  She has a hard time grasping how my mind works.  The same went for how I got along with my parents.  I just have downright different takes on things.  This works great for me though when I am problem solving or trying to be creative for work.  Day to day life though, it is entertaining.  To me anyway.

I am finding that this trait is making it’s way into the personality of my 8 year old daughter.  Just this morning, as she was being let off to school, I noticed that she didn’t have her bookbag.  I yelled at her to come back and get it out of the car and she very noncholantely told me she forgot it.  She then added that at least she won’t forget to bring it home this weekend.  (she has left her bag at school over the weekend in the past a few times)

One day, there was a neighborhood cat (she is a huge cat lover), that was hit by a car and still laying dead in the street, and she paused for a moment and then said that at least the big black birds will have some breakfast.

When my wife’s grandmother died a few weeks back, my daughters reaction was - I guess we won’t be haveing anymore chicken & dumplings.  (G-mum made the best!)

I can’t help it.  Her comments make me laugh because they are funny and they sound so much like things I say.  My wife thinks that she is rude, insensitive, uncaring and unconcerned about things but I know better.  I know that is just how her mind works.  It works like mine. 

This is one of those mornings where I really wish I had a pre-written post already in the bag and just be done with it. 

I don’t!

It has been a very busy couple of days.  Saturday was the Philadelphia Soul home opener at the Wachovia Center here in Philly versus the Orlando Predators and what a game it was.  The Soul dominated the game.  For those that do not know, the Philadelphia Soul is Philadelphia’s Arena Football League (AFL) team.  The team is also owned by Jon Bon Jovi.  My wife enjoys this very much.  I go to the game and watch the action on the field and she goes and watches JBJ.

After being out late Saturday, we spent the day running around like crazy before coming home to watch the NASCAR race and I cooked an awesome stuffed pork roast!  I do have to say this cooking thing is fun.  Maybe somewhere, in a past life (if I actually believed in such things) I was a gourmet cook. 

Monday, off to work and then the rush home to go to the Bon Jovi concert with the wife and daughter.  This was my daughters first concert and she had about as much fun as an eight year old could.  Daughtry opened for Bon Jovi (yeah, that American Idol guy) and he sounded pretty good but both my daughter and I knew the same amount of songs by him.  Maybe 3.  But he was OK.

Then Bon Jovi came on and of course he rocked.  I was a big fan of Bon Jovi when he first broke onto the scene in ‘83.  My wife loves the group.  My daughter got into it a little more but overall it was probably a little too overwhelming for her.

Needless to say, the three of us are dragging today.  Tired would be an improvement over how we feel.   

I am convinced that the gods are messing with me and the jokes they are playing on me are just mean.

Recently, I had an issue where my alarm went off and my wife convinced me it was the weekend and I should come back to bed.  Long story short, I was really late for work on a weekday.  Anyway, since then I have put greater effort into trusting my alarm clock.  

Yesterday morning my alarm clock goes off and I jump up out of bed and head to the shower and my wife calls out to me asking what I am doing.  I reply that I am getting up and ready for work and she tells me that it is 4:30.  I’m too smart to fall for this trick.  She laughs and and tells me she is serious and that her clock shows it is 4:30.  I look at her clock and I look at mine and there are two very different times on the clocks. 

Something is screwy here.  I have one of those smart set clocks that never need set or changed.  Basically you plug it in and it already knows the time and date.  I love it.  I have had it for over 9 years.   My wife has one also.  Right now they are now showing the correct time. 

I head to my nightstand and grab my watch that shows it is now 4:34 AM and I am all confused.  I return to my clock and see that the time now shows 8:06 AM and the date is 1 - 1.  Oh, oh! 

I pull the plug out of the wall in hopes that it will reset itself when I plug it back in.  It didn’t work.  Now I begin to think that my clock, my trusted and loyal clock, may be on it’s last leg and that is not good.  Just as I begin to contemplate the impact of having to go and buy a new clock my wife zaps me back into reality by yelling at me to turn of the lights and come back to bed.  We have 2 hours before we need to get back up for work.

I oblige because I am a nice guy but I can’t get back to sleep.  I just lay there awake for the next two hours in the dark waiting for her alarm to go off at 6:30.  Her Alarm!  Not mine! 

I guess I will be out and about this weekend and trying to find a replacement to my trusted old friend.

We don’t have a song.  Other couples do, but not us.  You usually hear other couples songs at their weddings.  They go out and dance to it and everyone goes “Awwww…..” while I throw up in my mouth.

Last night we were laying in bed and my wife asked me to sing to her our song.  Now she knows damn well we don’t have a song and she is, for some reason, setting me up for an argument when all I want to do is go to sleep.  It is already mid-night and I have to get up early for work but do I get quiet?  No!  I get, “Sing me our song!”

Long story short, the wife and I were friends for the longest time before we became and item.  We were both in long term relationships when we met and became friends and when they fell apart we decided to move in together and then one day we just looked at each other, like two old folks asking each other for sex, and I said “Do you wanna?”

She said, “Do you wanna?”

I said, “Sure, why not”

So we hopped a flight to Vegas and got married.  No big wedding.  No family.  No reception.  Nothing. 

Since we never really dated, we never really had a song.  Besides, I am not a mushy guy that hears a song and thinks wow!  That reminds me of my woman.  *insert eyes rolling here! 

Which leads me back to last night.  Laying in bed, trying to fall asleep when she nails me with her “sing me our song” request.  It was way out of left field and I certainly was not looking for an argument at that moment, but she clearly was. 

What is the big deal of a couple song? Why is it so important for her to all of a sudden, at midnight, to need to have a couple song?  Why is it that stupid stuff like this keeps getting me into trouble? 

My alarm clock goes off this morning at 6:15 AM, waking me from a deep slumber, and as I prepare to climb out of bed and head to the shower before work my wife pull me back into the bed and mumbles that it is the weekend and I should come back to bed.

Me, being the tired, exhausted and trusting husband that I am, I listened to her and quickly fell back asleep.

A little later she abruptly wakes me and I starts yelling at me for oversleeping.  I look to the clock and it is now 8:23 AM and it is not the weekend it is a weekday and we’re not only late, we are very late.  With a curse and a leap, I rush to my daughter’s room and wake her for school and then rush to the shower. 

A quick shower and skipping the shave I hurridly dress, throw together lunches and write a late note for my daughter.  I didn’t have time to be creative so I wrote the truth. 

Dear Mrs. *********

Please excuse ********* for being late this morning.  Thought it was the weekend when the alarm went off.  Sorry for the inconvience.

Mr. Idle Ramblings

Short, sweet and to the point.  At this point, my wife rushed out the door, cursing at me for sleeping in. 

I don’t get how this was my fault.  I was just as confused and only did as I was told. 

It was decided, by my wife, that I needed new underwear for her grandmothers funeral and as such she went out to purchase me some.  It seems that she did not want me to wear my threadbare tighty whites to the funeral because of the off chance that during the carrying of the casket my drawers may drop to my ankles and thus exposing my off white, threadbare, almost see through undies and embarrassing her. 

She brought me home Hanes boxer briefs and told me that I would be hawt (is this how it is spelled in todays lingo?) in them.  I really find that hard to imagine.  The only thing remotely hawt in that room at that moment was the pot of chili I was making.  The guy on the package may look hawt and I think that is what she was referring to but there is nothing hawt about me.  I’m short, scrawny and hung like a chipmunk, everything the model on the package is not.  I have not been hawt to anyone in a really long time, if at all.

As I take the package in my hands and begin to open them I discover that the package has, and advertises proudly on the package, “in resealable pouch”.  A resealable pouch?  Why?  It is not perishable goods.  It does not need to be in a Ziploc bag.  In fact, it scares me that  my new boxer briefs come in a package where a person could have easily opened the package, rubbed the undies along his johnson and/or other undesirable places, and then replace them quickly and easily back in the resealable package. 

At this point I really have no choice but to wear them.  If I don’t, the wife will be pissed, and on top of all that, she threw out my well worn, barely there, threadbare tighty whites.