"Off to Never, Neverland"

Ok, so yes, I do get emotional during some movies. SOME. I've seen Garden State for like the tenth time with one of my good friends Jim Beam. I don't know but there's something about that last scene that always gets to me. I mean, it really touches me. Maybe because there have been times when I wish that I wasn't such a pussy and used a "career" excuse or that she won't kiss back. You know, the same old sob story. Someone cry me a river. The point that I'm making here is that it's funny how I couldn't even cry at a friend's funeral. I mean I tried and forced myself but not a tear could come out. Yet a movie with fictional characters could make me get all choked up. The funny thing is that this isn't the first time that this has happened.

I remember watching Turner and Hootch, yes the one with the dog. I watched that by myself at my parents house on Fairfield Ave. I remember I was in the kitchen getting a slice of pizza when I noticed that Hootch was shot. "Oh he's going to be ok," I thought to myself, "Why would they kill the dog?" Wow, was I way off on that one. They killed the fucking dog!!! I was a young lad growing up, so it disturbed me a little bit. I don't care that the "bitch" that Hootch had sex with doggie style was pregnant with his babies. I didn't find that cute because in the end, they killed the dog. So much props to Beasley the dog's performence, a.k.a. Hootch. In all honesty, I think that he should have been nominated for an oscar or some type of award that was geared towards dying animals.

The last (yeah I know I really only touched on two movies) is the one that will have goons around the world agreeing with me. I know, please future wife, don't read this. The end of Star Trek II. Yes, I said it. I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. It's as if I can start living life again. I shit you not though, you watch that whole movie. I mean really watch it, not a bullshit watching to "humor" me and at the end when Spock dies a tear will fall from your face. Unless your emotions run cold like the Borg. My friend John and I claim that it was Shatner's finest performence, even though he's been winning awards for Boston Legal.

So what is the point of this write up? There really isn't one. I'm just saying it's funny how life plays out. How you react to certain things. How at one moment in time you will be sitting there, enjoying yourself and the next, you can't stand it. You are pissed and angry for things that you shouldn't be. How you could be perfectly happy and you are watching a moment and you get caught up in a movie. It touches you somewhere (Not the place where you have to point to the doll in a courtroom case) but in a place where you can always associate it with something special. A place that you are the only one that can go there. Your "Secret Garden". So don't be afraid to admit it. Don't be afraid to go there because it's a place that's yours and in these days, in these times, it's really rare to have that place. Even if it is a cheesey movie like The English Patient or The Love Bug, if it takes you there, if it takes you to a place where you can feel, grab on to it's hand and never let go. It will treat you well, I promise.

"Ha, I Kill Me"

I was standing in Eddie Bauer folding clothes, because that's what I do half the time, watching the front door greeting people. I do get some interesting people come into the store since it's in a mall, on the stip, in "Sin City," but today the closest thing I got to a different world was someone from Gary, Indiana.

"Hello, how are you doing? Can I help you find something?"

The day was dragging, slow. I wish I wasn't here doing this right now. Even the people in the middle of the mall who sell fancy nail products for a cheap price wasn't helping me.

"Can I smell your nail?"

No, it's "Can I see your nail," but since she is from Bolgaria, she is having problems saying that. Though hearing that all day it can drive a man crazy. I am bored. Please, anything, someone, something, help me. I feel a tap on my side.

"Do you think you can help me find a shirt my size?"

I turn and there is no one there until I look down.

"Holy shit, it's ALF."

Oh fuck, did I say that outloud? I hope I didn't but I can't remember.

"Um, actually it's not ALF, that's just a character I played on t.v. My name is Jeff."

I guess I did say that outloud. I shake his hand and introduce myself.

"My name is Dan. What can I get for you?"

He pointed to a shirt that was on the woman's side of the store. Do I tell him that it's a woman's shirt or do I just make the sale? Fuck it, why do I care?

"Oh sure that's a great shirt."

I grab the shirt and walk it over to the register. I ring him up and he pays. Of course I forget to ask him about the Eddie Bauer credit card but I really don't think he cares about that. He starts to walk away but stops and turns around.

"What are you doing tonight kid?"

"Um, nothing. I get off in five minutes."

"Well, you are going to hang out with me tonight?"

Now at this point I wasn't sure if ALF was gay or if he was just cool and wanted to party but what do I care? IT'S ALF!!!

"Sounds good to me."

I punch out and walk out of the door with my new Alien Life Form. We walk through the mall towards the strip I heard numerous people yelling things at him.

"ALF for president!"
"Hey, you want a Whopper?"

But he was a pro. He just walked on through and ignored it all. I eventually found out that he was staying at the "Real World Suite" though I don't really consider it real, but anyway, that's just me going off on a tangent.

He was a nice guy. He asked me about my life, my family, he seemed like he really cared. I found out that he has a family. A wife and two kids. He married a former Playmate. I don't remember her name but he showed me a picture and he did himself good.

Well after an hour of walking and talking we finally got to the suite. It was kind of cool because I have never been in anything like this before. He opens the door, my anticipation like the night before Christmas. E.T. was there on the couch. E.T! But wait, this isn't right. He was getting a blow job from a woman. A hooker. How do I know? Because the money was on the table. That alien from Mac and Me, he was there too. He was passed out in the corner in his own puke. ALF walks in like this is a daily routine for him.

"So Dan, do you get high?"

"Uh..."

What do I say to that? Do I say yes I do, though I really don't, or do I stand up and say "No To Drugs?" It doesn't matter because before I could say a word he pulls out some coke and a razor blade. There are four perfect lines right in front of me. I am curious but yet again before I could do anything ALF snorts them all up. He stumbles back a little bit. It appears that it was more then he could handle. He puts both hands on his head and kind of bends over. What was going on? He started yelling. I was getting nervous. I look on the table and for some stange reason I find out that it wasn't coke, but Spic and Span. He looked at me and he had crazy eyes. He then ran into the bedroom. He made some noise in there and came back out with a cat in his hand. Oh God. Oh no this can't be happening.

"What are you doing to do with that?"

"I'm going to fucking eat it."

"But it's a cat."

"Didn't you watch the show? I eat cats."

What do I do now? It is as if I'm in a Choose Yourself Adventure. Do I turn and run for the door or do I save that cat? I couldn't let him eat that cat. I know they shed a lot but damn, it's a cat. I pick up the Lava Lamp that's sitting on a table. God it's hot and is it really Lava? No time to worry about that. I take it and smash it against his head.

"Melmac this!" I yell as I thrust the lamp against his tiny, fury head.

ALF falls to the ground. The fall only lasted a second because he's so short. I felt bad in a way but yet it was a defining moment in my life. It was as if I was saying goodbye to my childhood days. I was finally becoming a man. ALF drags his body across the floor. He lays at my feet. I hear him quietly say,

"I kill me."

I pick up the lamp one more time, lift it above my head and end his washed up life.

"No, I kill you Alf. I...kill...you."

I pick up the cat and ran out the door. I never looked back and I never wanted to. To this day I wonder what could have been, what could have happened if I would have chosen the "dark side" but then I looked at the cat I saved, who I named ALF, and it all kind of fades away. Oh crap, the cat puked again. Oh man, it's eating it's own puke. Why is there cat hair on my coat? I guess life on Melmac was never this tough.

The Rise and Fall of Such a Perfect Thing

I can't wait for this month to be over with so I can stop hearing about everyone's New Year's Resolutions. "I'm going to stop smoking." "I'm going to go on a diet." "I'm gonna stop cheating on my girlfriend." For fuck's sake. Somebody shoot me. Well only shoot me if that was your New Year's Resolution because in the long run nobody EVER follows through on them. How do I know this? Well I'd see a lot more thinner people, a lot less people smoking outside and well, you get the picture.

I do have this theory that the "Resolution" was invented by some poor guy who was sick of being nagged by his wife.

"When are you going to get off your ass and fix this sink?"
"When are you going to spend more time with me?"
"When? When? When?"

So he came up with a genius thing called a New Year's Resolution, to get the old hag off his back, to give him some time to finish watching the game or taking a nap.

"Honey, I will be more productive next year. It will be my New Year's Resloution."
"What is that?" she asks.
"It's something that I've set out for the New Year. It means that this is the one thing that I'm going to change about myself, to make me a better person. It's a promise to myself and to you. I love you so much."

And this worked. For years he was able to get out of doing things. And he lived a happy life for a very long, long time but it was perfect, too perfect because this beautiful thing will be tainted when his wife finally caught on to his little scheme. And soon after, his wall came crashing down.
"Honey, will you give me a blow job?"
"Honey, will you make me dinner?"
"Honey, will you pick me up some beer?"

To which her reply was,

"I'm sorry I've been slacking off in those areas, It will be my New Year's Resolution for next year."

And with that statement the New Year's Resolution spread throughout the world like a virus. Each man and woman using it as an excuse so people wouldn't think they were lazy, or so people would leave them alone, or so it could buy them some time in order for other's to forget. And to this day it means just as much as it did when it was first used. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. So If you really want it to mean something, don't tell anyone, especially don't tell me, because then it will actually mean something rather then just being a "New Year's Resolution."

Why Chivalry is Dead

To all my peeps out there, this is an old story which happened to me a couple of years ago. It would take place at the worst and piece of shit bar in Kalamazoo called The...wait...I'm not even gonna advertise. So enjoy a flash from my past.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine the other day about how chivalry is dead. She told me that she thought that guys were jerks and for the most part they only think about themselves. I just kind of laughed at her but it made me think, “Is this true? Am I the kind of guy that only thinks of himself, that puts himself ahead of other people?” A week later I was presented with a situation that would answer that question.

Put yourself in my position. I’m at the local dance club on a Thursday night, having a great time. I’m dancing with a girl friend (see the space, it means we were just friends, not dating) of mine when a man out of control bumps into her. He’s 5’4”, skinny as a toothpick and is wearing glasses. I look to see if she’s ok and she has a, “I can’t believe that guy just did that,” look on her face. What would you do?

Jump five minutes into the future. The man gets up in my face and starts talking shit. I’m 6-1, 210, so to me this guy is a little Chihuahua, just barking at me with no bite. A bouncer comes up to me and asks me to leave. Feeling like I’m in third grade I tell him, “but he started it.” But it doesn’t matter at this time. Trying to figure out what is going on, the other bouncers start forming a wall. A wall of meat heads walking towards me, forcing me out the door. Walking slowly backwards the little man who bumped into my friend pops his head up from behind the wall. “Yeah, fuck you! You can’t mess with me! I work here!”

After a few words exchanged, my friend and I go to the car. Surprisingly enough, my friend is more upset then I am with the situation. Calming him down I see in the corner of my eye two guys walking towards us. The only thought coming to my mind is, “these guys must have had a bad night,” because they looked drunk and pissed off with life. Out of nowhere, I get blind sided by one of the guy’s fists. It connects to the left side of my face, and the other connects to the right. I started to go down to one knee but somehow managed to stay up. My buddy becomes Clifford Peache, from My Bodyguard, and gets the guys off of me. They run off into the night while we try and put our torn shirts back on. The bouncer from the bar is yelling from the door at us to leave the property. I yell back at him, “We just got jumped,” which his only reply was, “don’t worry about them, they ran off.” Was that a conspiracy in the works? Yes it was ladies and gentlemen. I was just a made man and these “enforcers of rules” turned the other way. I went into their clubhouse, I played by their rules but somehow I was the bad guy in the situation.

So what did I say to bring this upon me? What did I do to get kicked out and jumped in the parking lot? “Hey buddy, you bumped into my lady friend here, could you please apologize to her.” In reality, all I wanted was for this guy to say sorry to my friend and that would have been the end of it; Scouts honor, cross my heart.

“So what happened to the girl? Was she ok?” Of course she was, she saw what happened to me, but stayed in there and danced the rest of the night away. The real kicker was that I stood up for her, I took a beating in the parking lot and she continued to go back to that place each and every week because, “it is a fun place.” Each week she let me know how they treated me like shit but yet, she still went. So look what Chivalry gets you now a days; getting kicked out of a bar, a bruised ego and two sore cheeks. And adies wonder why Chivalry is dead.