Yakkity yak....

So, what can I talk about now? I’ve thought about loyalty to a corporate job, my inability to drink more than four beers now or say psychological affairs.

I’ll do all three.


Years ago, and I mean YEARS ago. My dad was what you would call a “company man.” He came out of the Korean war, got a CPA degree from Bryant U and was hired by First Federal Savings and Loan down in Providence. He started as a teller and through time kept climbing the ladder; loan officer, operations manager, VP then was finally voted in as CEO by the board. He lived and finally died there.

I remember the contract he was given to sign before he was finally installed as CEO. In it, there was a mention of his “loyalty” and “perseverance” to the company. With that, he was knighted. He would tell me that with enough time, hard work and sincerity I could attain a position like his when I grew up.

My Dad would be rat meat in today’s business world. In all my dealings with large organizations, I’ve never seen loyalty ever being paid back. Today it’s “What you done for us lately?” Your career success seems to be provisional, week to week.

******

Drinking. I can watch others pour it down , stumble and fall and somehow keep going. I cannot even come close to that. They say alcohol is a depressant and god, it is ever for me. I get enough beer into me and all I want to do next is crawl into my bed. This is a good thing. I’ve seen how others careen their lives into one wall after the other with their ability to “stomach their liquor.”

I do like the buzz it provides however. Generally I’ll loosen up and actually talk more. But to throw up Maker’s Mark through my nose? Forget it!

Also…

I once witnessed this girl who was busted twice for DWI. It cost her Dad $12,000 to get her “off” on both charges. Jesus H. Christ…$12,000. I’ve made this black comment to others before and I do stick to it. I’m not worried about sliding my car into a school bus full of kids, I do worry about hiring an attorney to mitigate the awful circumstances the State surely would like to crucify me with.

　

*****

When I want to, I can sit and listen to anyone go on…and on…and on about their personal lives. This patience was taught to me from an old career where you learn not to automatically respond to whatever someone can throw at you. You become aware of your own reactions and learn to quiet them down.

At my age, I can come across marrieds or those in long term relationships where they can open up, connect and develop a tighter emotional connection with me versus their husbands/boyfriends. It’s something to see really. Relationships that are utter deserts with little or no feelings involved. The girl stays put due to the financial DIS-incentive to leave. It’s even worse for marrieds as the girl can end up on the short end of the deal in a divorce. Yet, even though they choose to stay put, they still seek out someone to connect to. Welcome to my couch, please feel free to free associate and you won’t get charged the $80 an hour at a therapists office.

The best relationship, the most successful one I’ve ever seen was this couple who were dating for over 10 years. They refused to get married or move in with one another. They kept each other’s apartments and visited each other when they felt like it. They were the most relaxed couple I’ve seen. She never came to me to bitch, talk or whatever about her life!

Here’s something I heard a few years back about a marriage vow that I though was very cool indeed. A friend attended an outside wedding in some fields up in Douglas, MA by a lake. A perfect day I was told. When they came to the part in the traditional marriage vows you hear all the time, they changed it from this:

“from this day forward I promise you these things. I will laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow. I will share in your dreams, and support you as you strive to achieve your goals. I will listen to you with compassion and understanding, and speak to you with encouragement. I will remain faithful to our vows for better or for worse, in times of sickness and health. You are my best friend and I will love and respect you always.”

To this:

“from this day forward I do not promise you these things. I may laugh with you in times of joy and comfort you in times of sorrow. I might share in your dreams, and support you as you strive to achieve your goals. I might listen to you with compassion and understanding, and speak to you with encouragement. I might remain faithful to our vows for better or for worse, in times of sickness and health. You are my best friend and I will love and respect you as far as I can.”

The whole point behind that, was that in promising NOT to promise, if the marriage should die of whatever reason, neither party can feel gyped as there were NO guarantees ever made.

That let both of them off the hook. What maturity!

Anger Management 101

If you know me well enough you’ll know that if you comment on a personal fault that I know isn’t true, I’ll just brush it off and never give it a second thought because I know it to be false. If the comment is true, then I’ll stew over it for a good hour and be very quiet.

A few nights ago in my watering hole I was talking general business, politics and whatnot to the owner when he made a comment that I vehemently agreed with.

T says, “College today isn’t worth it. The kids coming out of Boston are $100,000 in debt at a rate of nearly 9%…You could do better by becoming a plumber.”

That’s when I nearly rose out of my seat, sticking my finger in T’s face and rather forcefully said, “YOU’RE RIGHT! Those greedy bastards, those banks, are the ones who love enslaving you forever with their debt!!”

My reaction, to others, seemed over the top. To me? It was right in line with my leftist political ranting. Angry young man of my youth is “angry approaching 50 man.” Believe me, my life in whole has toned down a lot now that I’ve hit soft middle age. But…BUT…my views on how this country should operate are still hot.

“For fuck’s sake Ron, I’m only talking here…” says T.

Yeah, he was right…we were just talking. This wasn’t a pulpit to be preaching from.

I wasn’t always like this…

I have a friend, who was a Commander in the Navy and had taught me the art of “barking.” When an officer feels like dressing down a subordinate, you raise your voice and very clearly say what you wish to say. It’s not an emotional, off the handle yelling tirade. It’s a controlled, reason-filled near shout. You keep unbroken eye contact and never swear or you‘ll blow it. I have watched my friend turn to mush nearly everyone he’s managed to set his sights on. It can be pretty devastating. His having a career in the Navy as a bridge officer gave him much experience to do this correctly.

This trick has come in handy as I rag on bank managers, auto mechanics and any other person who manages to push that one button I have. And that ONE button is hard to push. But that’s another story…

Not only was I taught this, but I got to see him use it in so many instances I realize that he can be an angry fuck looking to unload on someone. Ah well, we all have our faults. I noticed I was beginning to ape this behavior in him. Uh-oh!

I had better choose my time and place more carefully when my revolutionary zeal fires up.

Mother Nature

The above photo is pretty cool, huh? Now you know what a miles and miles of smashed forest in Massachusetts looks like from 500 miles up.

I’ve never been, seen or even been remotely close to a tornado touchdown. Though the curious, twisted 12 year old boy in me would like to see one, from a good mile away. I guess it’s like watching a NASCAR race crash up. Rhode Island isn’t known for these storms, are they?

My only close brush with nature that nearly killed me happened when I was eight years old. My friend at the time Rick W. and I were on my street, trying to one up one another about the fact neither of us were afraid of a thunderstorm that was rolling by above us. That’s was pretty common as the boys in our neighborhood tried to prove we weren’t afraid of nuttin’.

It was strange thunderstorm, there was no rain nor any heavy wind, but plenty of cloud to cloud lightning strikes that boomed like God’s Own Bell. I think they used to call these “electrical storms” back then, if there ever was such a designation. This storm just flashed and banged for a good fifteen minutes before the “event” happened.

I can clearly remember. I was turning towards Rick’s house when I heard a weird snapping sound and seeing sparks explode from his bike that was lying on the lawn. I then remember I then turned toward my house and ran home SCREAMING like a little girl. As I was turning the corner of my house, I ran into my Dad who reached out his arm and scooped me up a bit and I fought him like a tiger to get into the house. I was yelling how I was nearly hit but it was obvious he didn’t see it and didn’t believe me. I made it inside and found Mom and spastically told her what had happened. She brushed it off thinking I was just plain scared from the storm itself.

About a minute later, Peggy Burns, who lived next door called up and asked my Mom was I alright. Finally, I had proof I wasn’t making the story up. Peggy said she saw a thin bolt of lightning hit the telephone pole and a second even thinner branch hit Rick’s bike. My Mom had turned towards me with this look of shock as she was getting the real story.

“SEE! SEE! I WAS NEARLY HIT!!” I kept saying.

My brother, on the other hand, just teased the hell out of me for acting like a little girl about it. Ah…what does he know?

To this day, I don’t like those storms that spray lightning all over the place, I still count out the flash to thunder in seconds to wonder how damn close it is.