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My brother said something to me the other day that was both wise and thought provoking. Trust me, its scary when that happens because conversations of real depth are an unusual happening when the two of us get together. Yet, his words have permeated my thoughts for an entire weekend.

We had been out to lunch together and he happened to ask me how my 13 year old daughter was doing. I told him that she was struggling a little with her grades as she has two pending C’s coming on her next report card, and that the boy fever had kicked in. I told him of the trips to the movies we had taken her and the current boyfriend on. I also made mention that the little squirt in question had come over recently to watch a movie with her.

One of my childhood heroes died today. He was Superman, Iron-man and the coolest human being to walk the earth since James Dean. He strapped himself to rocket once and tried to jump the Snake River Canyon in Idaho. He had his name legally changed to reflect the signature nickname given to him as a young kid playing little league baseball. Robert Craig Knievel, more widely known as Evel Knievel passed away this afternoon in Clearwater, Florida.

What you are about to read is one of my journal entries from August of 2001.  I was thumbing through it the other day and deemed this one worthy of the public forum.

 

As I was walking out of Borders book store today, on my way back to the office from lunch.  I observed a gentleman that appeared to be in his mid fifties sitting in a wheel chair.  In his lap he held a large homemade sign that read “Homeless Veteran, Please Help if you can.”  It was murderously hot outside with a reported heat index of 110 degrees.  I climbed into my car, turned the A/C to max and just stared at the guy. 

I was speaking with a friend of mine recently who had quit his job with a “Fortune 500” company in RTP. He didn’t really give me any of the specifics as to why he tendered his resignation but I am aware of a few changes that have occurred in his office within the last year. In the past, he has told me of the good times and frequent pranks he and his office mates have shared. Morale was high and the group enjoyed being together. However, about six months ago his immediate supervisor retired and was replaced by a woman wanting to climb the corporate ladder of success. He said that the lady was so ill that she resembled a constipated pit viper. So much for morale…

 

 

Where have all the “Beer Joints” gone? I’m not talking about the bars and clubs of today. I’m referring to the neighborhood juke joints and afternoon hangouts where you could find a friendly bar maid and hot pool game anytime after three o’clock. The place where everyone knew your name and you had the phone number memorized. If someone called looking you the standing reply was “he’s not here” with no questions asked. I can still recall the names of some of those long forgotten places in my little neck of the woods.

WRAL Headline:

"Ex-Teacher Pleads No Contest to Student Sex Charge" (Smithfield, NC)

 

For the love of God would someone tell me a how a school teacher who admits to having sex with an 11 year old student gets off the hook with 120 days in the slammer? Could it be the simple fact that the pervert in question is a female?

If there has ever been a more clear cut example of how the criminal justice system is two faced, I think this tells all. The fact is, that if this predator had been a male teacher with a female student, Steve Bizzell would have buried him under that jail! How some of those people in that court house will sleep tonight is beyond me.

My favorite room in our home is the master bathroom. Since my master bath is broken into two separate areas (the sink & mirror area and the toilet & shower area) I am most fond of the later. Ok, I know that’s kind of weird and all but I’ll try to give you a justifiable explanation. My throne room… aka the gas chamber, is my get away from it all port in the household storm. It’s my little oasis of instant escape that no one in his or her right mind would dare follow me into.

Being a peaceful and most importantly calm loving man, I’m not a big fan of noise and I don’t care to have to entertain people. I’ll give you a brief example. For whatever reason and by some unforeseen circumstance, friends of ours with their entire family in tow show up at my house unannounced. That’s right, kids and all. This would involve rambunctious and loud house apes running around my home asking dumb questions and destroying any semblance of neat and orderliness. Yes, I am that anal! This would also mean that I must now, along with my wife play the role of the gracious host. Trust me on this folks, I’d feel the same if it were my own family. I just don’t do that very well. After ten or twenty minutes of this unmerciful torture, I feign the discomfort of gastric distress and disappear for a minimum of twenty minutes to read peacefully and tranquilly in my own little corner of heaven.

 

A few nights ago, after my friend Chuck and I had finished photographing a wedding, we decided to find a good steak joint. Both of us enjoy eating in nice restaurants and we don’t mind forking over the cash to appease our cravings for good beef. In all honesty we usually take in high-end restaurants when it’s just the two of us. It’s a heck of a lot cheaper when you’re not splurging on the whole family. Yeah, I know that’s wrong but I’m being truthful here.

During the course of our meal it became rather obvious that if either of us wanted our tea glasses refilled we would have had to Fein choking to death. On top of that the demeanor of our dear waitress was akin to that of harassed rattlesnake. The food was excellent but we had obviously caught this fine lady on a very bad evening.

 

 

I received a visit from my Dad yesterday. It was wonderful and left me in such good spirits. For most of us, spending some time with one of our parents would not be something we would spend a great deal of time writing about. What makes my visit a little different is the fact that my Dad past away almost 19 years ago.

It was not a weird ghostly appearing or anything along those lines. It was a simple dream during a brief mid afternoon nap. Those who know me well can attest to my tendency to lose consciousness after lunch every now and then. Although I do have a knack for sleeping quite easily, I have never been one to dream very often. So many times in my married life, my wife has turned to me as we're lying down for the evening and said, "sleep good and dream of me." My almost immediate reply is "I don't dream." For that reason it is always special when my Dad comes around.

I know that in reality it was no more than memories replaying themselves through my minds eye or my subconscious being triggered by something that happened earlier in the day. Nevertheless, I didn't want to wake up. I can't remember the entire scenario of the dream except that I awoke with a joke passing between the two us and he was laughing heartily. Only God knows how I miss that man in my life. How I hate that he never met his grand daughter and yearn for his council when I find myself in a tight jam. I can only think that had he remained on this earth for just a few years longer I would be a far better man.