"You Are Going Home With Me...Aren't You??"

I have a really rough time with relationships...

A couple of weekends ago, I was having dinner and drinks at a local bar and grill where my son works... and this woman... about 20-something years younger than me... comes up and asks if she can sit by me at the bar... not being a total idiot, I replied.. "Of course!"

So we talk... about a host of things... she works at the bank where I do business... and she says she has seen me there... that she thinks I am "cute"... whatever the Hell that means... I'm not sure at what point in my Life I left the "Cute" phase behind me...

It's difficult coming on to a woman with your son on the other side of the bar... I have this "need" to continue to be a Dad in his presence... and at the same time, I have this desire to go home with this gorgeous thing and screw her lights out... and of course, in the process... get mine screwed out as well... sex is always the best when all participants achieve their goals and desires...

Along with my son... several of my students work there as well... I don't really need my son... or my students... evaluating my pick-up skills... or lack of skills... and being the butt of a bunch of conversation on campus...

Did I say she was hot? Did I say she had legs that went clear from here to there and back?? She has these great lips too... great kissing lips... great suh - suh - suh -suh - sucking lips... I would watch her mouth when she talked to me... and imagine all of the other great things she could probably do with those lips and that tongue... I was thinking of the ol' "sucking the chrome off of a trailer hitch" kind of thing...

So... out of the corner of my eyes.. I could see my son sizing the moment up... Was he thinking.. "Damn... Dad's the Man!!" Or was he thinking... "Gross... is Dad going to try to have sex?? Yeeeewwww!!!" And the students... where they thinking... Is Mr. So-N-So going to follow through on this??? And.. "if he gets lucky, Will he be in a better mood in class now??"

I have this feeling that Dads aren't supposed to be horndogs in front of their kids... nor teachers be horndogs in front of students who would go out and tell other students about what Mr. So-N-So was doing the other night!!!!

Maybe it shouldnt make any difference...

Did I tell you that she had really long brunette hair? And a beautifully round butt?? And that I was having a really difficult time keeping my hands off of her???

Soooooooooooooooooo... I threw caution to the wind... and went for it... we had fun... we laughed... we carried on...

I have a really rough time with relationships... My divorce was horrible... My Dad had a stroke on Valentine's Day, '96, and died 8 days later... and roughly six months after his death, my wife and I filed for divorce... My self esteem was destroyed... my confidence... everything... I probably have times when I think I am not worthy or deserving of being Loved... I would be a great case for a psychologist or counselor, no doubt... I don't think I am afraid of failure... but I do think I fear rejection... I know that I am in some kind of emotional/sexual rehab.. from the failed marriage and relationships... but I don't mind continuing on that road to recovery... no?

Anyway... Amanda and I had WAY too much fun that night... and I could see my son and his friends/my students looking as if they were betting on or against my chances...

Her breasts were JUST right...

So.. she finished her drink... stood up... looked at me and asked... "You Are Going Home With Me...Aren't You??"

My Buddy, Barry...

I was reading Secretia's blog about secret health issues and it made me think of Barry.

Barry was my best friend... We shared a great deal of common interests, one of them being white-water canoeing... We would travel to Western North Carolina and paddle on the Nantahala, the Ocoee, and even paddled Section III of the Chattooga a couple of times.

On one of our trips, we were canoeing a river that was new to both of us. We approached a rapid that we decided to scout before attempting to run it. Upon further review, we decided that portaging around this rapid was in our best interests... I made the comment that I would hate to drown... Barry was a doctor, and he told me that in Med School, they were taught that drowning is supposed to be one of the easier ways to die... that one actually passes out from lack of oxygen before the lungs start to fill with water....

I can't imagine...

We continued to talk a bit about this the rest of the day as we continued down the river... we even talked about how to get out of trouble if ever caught in an undertow... that one is supposed to move parallel to the shoreline and eventually, you will get out of the pull of the water and can come in to safety...

In late July, 2000, Barry took his family with him to a medical convention that was being held in Destin, Fla... after checking into their accomodations, Barry and his daughters went out into the surf to play while his wife sat on the beach and read...

At some point, his youngest daughter came in from the water and asked her Mom if she knew where her Dad was... and Mom replied, "he's out there with you..." At that instant, a woman down the beach started screaming for a doctor... They figured that Barry must be down there helping...

Well... Barry was down there... Barry got caught in an undertow and drowned... I don't know what else there is to say about that... kind of like Forrest Gump... 'that's all I've got to say about that...'

Not long after Barry drowned, I had a dream about Barry... in the dream, I know Barry is gone, but I am so glad to see him... I run to him and give him this great big hug... there.. you know that Im a guy and I hug my male friends... so shoot me... I asked Barry, "What happened?"... meaning, what happened as in how weren't you able to save yourself...???

He turned and walked away, waving his hands, saying, "... I don't want to talk about it.."

My interpretation is that drowning wasn't as easy as Barry thought it would be.

Now.. what does this have to do with "medical secrets?" I tried to think of something I could do to honor my friend... my friend who was all about saving lives and helping others...

I teach at a small university in Mississippi, and on the way to the Union one day to get a cup of coffee, I saw the BloodMobile parked in front of the Union...and I thought... that's it! I will donate blood in Barry's memory...

I don't know how much I have donated over the years since Barry's been gone... and it really doesn't matter because its not about me...

I miss you, my friend... and who knows, maybe one of these days, we will cross paths again...

For any of you that are able, donate blood... its one of the most useful things you can ever do...

"It's Not The Holidays Until Someone Cries..."

That is what my daughter says about the holiday season... My son and daughter have a dysfunctional Mom... I guess that means I married a dysfunctional woman... I don't think she was when we married... I guess she "evolved"...

My daughter is married and lives in New Orleans... she's been married a bit over a year... she worked Wednesday... got off work, and then she and her husband drove up to visit... they didn't get into town until about 1:30 AM... I was long asleep by then...

Anyway... the whole purpose of this brief rant is that she made very little effort to see me on Thanksgiving... or the day after when they had to leave to go back home... this means that Dysfunctional Mom got all of the visit time...

She offered me about an hour of visit time on Thanksgiving Night at about 10:30PM... which I declined... to me, getting the last hour and a half of a day is kind of like getting the dregs of anything...

She didn't get up until after noon on Thanksgiving... but I think if I had wanted to see my Dad, and I knew I might be occupied otherwise the rest of the day, I would have made some concession... you know? She did say something about maybe going to lunch before they left the next day...

However, by 12:30PM on Friday, I hadnt heard from her... so I went to lunch with my son... she "texted" me... told me she could come by to see me... I didnt reply...

She didnt call me... didnt make any real effort to see me over the short trip she was in town... and I get text messages and offers for "odd-and-end" moments of the days...

I didn't cry, so I don't think the Holidays have officially started for me... but it sure broke my heart...

Dad...

Question For the Archery Enthusiasts...

What Kind of bow is this???

Answer: Who really gives a shit??

Circle Flies

A cowboy from Texas attends a social function where Barack Obama is trying to gather more support for his Health Plan. Once Obama discovers the cowboy is from President Bush’s home area, he starts to belittle him by talking in a southern drawl and single syllable words. As he was doing that, he kept swatting at some flies that were buzzing around his head.

The cowboy says, "Y'all havin' some problem with them circle flies?" Obama stopped talking and said, "Well, yes, if that's what they're called, but I've never heard of circle flies."

"Well Sir," the cowboy replies, "circle flies hang around ranches. They're called circle flies because they're almost always found circling around the back end of a horse."

"Oh," Obama replies as he goes back to rambling. But, a moment later he stops and bluntly asks, "Are you calling me a horse's ass?"

"No, Sir," cowboy replies, "I have too much respect for the citizens of this country to call their President a horse's ass."

"That's a good thing," Obama responds and begins rambling on once more. After a long pause, the cowboy, in his best Texas drawl says, "Hard to fool them flies, though."

RedShoes...

I teach at a small regional university in the Mississippi Delta. Over the years that I have taught here, I have noticed many ‘professors’ that take themselves WAY too seriously… as a means of reminding myself to not do the same, I started wearing Red Converse Chuck Taylor tennis shoes on my teaching days… I referred to them as my “teaching shoes.”

Profs should be allowed some leeway in their teaching methods… do what they need to do (within reason) to reach the students. Since we didn’t have a dress code, I thought this would be a great way for me to accomplish my objective…

I had been wearing this type of shoe for almost ten years. On the Monday before the Spring semester started in 2000, I was called into the Dean’s Office. Getting summoned to that place is similar to being called to the Principal’s Office when in high school… I tried to recall what, if anything, I had done that could have been the least bit borderline ‘wrong.’

The Dean looked like a cross between Colonel Sanders and Poppa Smurf… to make a long story short, he was an asshole… and I am sure he still is.

I went to the Dean’s Office with my Division Chair… and was given a letter of reprimand for wearing my red shoes to work. He told me that he had told me “many times” that he didn’t want me wearing them. He had never told me to not wear them… “They are NOT professional looking!!” he exclaimed!!! Never mind he was the owner/operator of one of the world’s WORST looking hair pieces… That bastard had a lot of gall… a lot of nerve!!!
I have always been a good judge of character… always seemed to make pretty decent decisions for which battles to fight… which ones to let go… Like Kenny Rogers used to sing… you “gotta know when to fold em… know when to fold em…”

The next week, the small campus newspaper had a brief mention of what had happened… the dean was FURIOUS with me… he called me back into his office… “You didn’t tell anyone about this, did you???”

Of course, I did.. the students wanted to know why I wasn’t wearing my red shoes anymore. They wanted an answer… it wasn’t a secret… besides, I DID get the reprimand…

Any way… I love my red shoes. They define who I am, I think. Red is the color of passion… and I like to think that I am passionate about Life… about my work… about Love…
A few years later, we got a new dean… and one day he walked past one of my classrooms… stopped… came back and motioned for me to come out into the hallway… he asked me if I still owned my red shoes… “of course, I do!” !” He nodded his head and said, “Well... its ok for you to wear them again… I asked him why… and he said it “just is”… I asked him for a letter to place in my folder that said I could wear them along with the one that said I couldn’t… I got the letter and I started wearing the shoes again…

Back in the Spring, I was driving home from a trip to Madison, MS when I came upon a highway patrol roadblock. After a quick mental inventory, I knew that I had my Drivers License, that my inspection sticker and tag were current, and that I had my insurance card. I handed the patrolman the DL… he looked at it, handed it back to me… told me to be careful… and then he said… “wait a minute… let me see that again…”

Ferque!!!!! My DL was expired… he told me to pull off to the side of the road.. GRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…..

That patrolman walked over to a group of others patrolmen who were standing around talking… and he handed my DL to one of the officers… he took my DL, looked at it, and started writing the ticket… he walked behind my vehicle to get the tag number, and then went to sit in his cruiser while he finished the ticket… I was ready to go… I was unhappy with myself for not checking my expiration on my license… I look to see what he’s doing… he’s on his cell phone… dammit man, come on!!! I’m ready to get home!!!

He finally gets out of his car… does the highway patrolman strut over to my car… and says to me… “I have one more question for you… Are you wearing your red shoes today?”

“WTF?!?!?!?!” I looked at him and asked…”WHAT?!?!?!”

He said… “I need to know if you are wearing your red shoes???”

I tell him no, and then ask… how do you know about my red shoes???

He started laughing… said he recognized my name, and saw the university decal on the back of my vehicle… and told me that his wife had taken several of my classes… that all he ever heard about was some teacher with red shoes and how much fun they had in class…

Its amazing how stories follow us around…