If You Ask Me

Right now, it is the Sertoma Chili Cook-off, a fund-raising event for children's charities here in town.  I always describe it as New Year's Eve, Mardi Gras, and St. Patrick's Day rolled up into one huge party.  I usually work in the concessions stand, selling non chili food items, and non-alcoholic beverages.  There is live music, the businesses that rent booths are over the top and hilarious.  The people who attend are laughing and happy – in the 15 years I've been volunteering, I've only seen one altercation that had to be contained, and the participants expelled.

This is a bizarre story to say the least.  I had worked at a Family Practice group for sixteen years, did all the physicians' transcription, reviewed every patient invoice to ensure correct diagnosis and procedure coding, etc.  We had a new physician join our group and this person was difficult, in every sense of the word.  One morning, this doc came to the front reception area requesting a chart.  We were unable to locate it.  The doc threw a kicking, cussing, screaming fit – everyone in our waiting room, the building's front lobby, and people waiting in the pharmacy could see and hear.  I walked over with my arms outstretched trying to herd the doctor out of the room, but they ended up storming out by their own decision.

As I walked back to my desk, I told my colleagues, "If I had anywhere else to go, I'd walk out right now and never look back!"

I sat down at my desk and my computer pinged indicating that I had a new email.  It was a very good friend, who used to work at the practice with me.  The subject read:  Are You Ready?

She said that the department she worked in had multiple full-time, permanent positions and did I want to interview; she'd attached a transfer request to the email.  I filled it out, went to another area in the building and faxed it.  I received a call to schedule an interview within fifteen minutes. I interviewed that same afternoon, on my way home from work.  HR called me the following morning and offered me the position, which came with a $3,000/yr raise. 

A house with heat – it's currently 16° F.

Food in the refrigerator and pantry.

The entire family is in for the night - the roads are still iffy, no one has to attempt an outing.

Entertainment value for the ticket price:  Pink Floyd, June 20, 1994, Division Bell Tour.  A local radio station offered a "package", which included a bus ride to and from Kansas City Chiefs Stadium, ticket to the concert, a tee shirt, and a pre-concert party at a local bar/club.  

There was no opening band, David, Nick, and Richard came out and played for ninety minutes, took a thirty-minute break, then came back and did another ninety minutes.  There were enormous screens behind them that alternated between videos and what was happening on stage.

Just plain fun regardless of price:  Judas Priest and Kiss, September 22, 1979, Dynasty Tour.  Six young idiots, still in college, piled into a car and drove to St. Louis.  My companions, the sense of adventure, the concert, and even the sleepy drive home is still one of my favorite memories.

Yes, and I believe this is true for most everyone.

When my parents were alive, we communicated well, but there were certain subjects I didn’t feel comfortable discussing with them.  With my older siblings, I could talk with them about most anything.  They were genuinely kind when it came to those types of discussions and asked plenty of questions, to make sure they understood my concerns, and if they’d answered my questions.

My twin sister and I had that weird twin connection.  If one of us was concerned about something, the other could sense it. If neither of us had a real answer, we’d research together. 

My best friend of fifty years has almost the same bond as I had with Cathy. Not quite as strong but it works and I’m truly grateful for it.  Additionally, I can express my true feelings about certain people / situations, because she listens but doesn’t judge.  She, Cathy, and I shared so many adventures – good/wholesome, and bad/dangerous.  I can be my true self with her, the same as I could be with Cathy.

With casual acquaintances and work colleagues, I do my best not to discuss anything regarding politics, religion, spirituality, and the ways I like to have fun.  Additionally, I find myself saying what I think they want to hear, rather than my real opinions – sort of go with the flow.

I posted this over at the Book of Faces, but I'm still angry, so I'm posting it here, too.

What's on my mind?  Have a seat and I'll tell you, though Fair Warning - if you're a fan of Matthew Perry, you may want to skip this one.

People have been ridiculing Matthew Perry basically since 2004, when Friends went off the air.  They laughed about him being high all the time, how much weight he'd gained, how old he looked, etc. 

Exactly one year ago, he published "Friends Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing: A Memoir".  People were calling him a narcissist, a junkie, etc., and totally pissed off over what he said about Keanu, for which he never apologized, by the way.

Perry died last week and now people are extoling him as though he were a hero, the second coming of Wonderful. 

Someone please explain it to me, because I sure as hell don't get it.