Michael's Blogger Shower

Welcome to my Google sponsored shower! I like to spout out the thoughts jumbled in my head, My original blog no longer exists.If you want to be able to post comments, contact me. :)

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Brothers

I was telling stories about my brothers to some coworkers. They didn't believe me when I told them we weren't very close.

Before I got to junior high school age, my older brother repeatedly told me there were a bunch of guys waiting to beat me up when I got there. I was totally freaked out for the longest time. I remember hiding in hallways and running from class to class room.

“And your brother was not going to protect you?” They asked.

“My brother was probably on the top of the list who wanted to beat me up.”

Next story I was laughing so hard when I told them about the year I went to this computer trade show called Comdex, I packaged up all the better swag and gave it to my little brother's for Christmas. i can still see the shocked looks on thier faces as they dumped the crap out of the box!

My coworkers thought I crossed a line with that one. I couldn't argue with that but at the time I wasn't even trying to be a jerk.

One year, one of my brothers was all in a huff and didn't want to sit next to me on the train that circled Disneyland. After a few stops, more people got aboard. My brother finally came over and sat next to me.

“I'd rather sit next to Michael, then some stranger.” he announced.

I agreed with that logic. I'd probably say the same thing.

That pretty much sums up our relationship.



Sunday, May 07, 2017

Routines

When I was growing up my dad had a routine that he followed every morning. It was like clockwork. I learned his schedule so well I could tell what time it was depending on the signs from his routine.

One morning I needed to get up early and I waited for him to leave. Prior to this morning, I realized he didn't like when I invaded his private time. So, I waited for him to go to work.

Anyway, this particular morning he came back, running inside from the garage, yelling that some kids had busted out the window of his car. Turns out that day was April 1st. My Mom didn't think it was funny at all.

It's been several years since I've lived under my parents roof. Every now and then, early in the morning, I can hear the neighbors walking around upstairs. My brain tells me it's my dad on his routine.

Saturday, May 06, 2017

Out of sight, out of mind

One year a roommate of mine sent out an email to meet up at the Cheesecake Factory. The email was to a Yahoo! group if I remember correctly. We wanted to see who would show. It was quite a surprise this known, directionally impaired lady friend walked through the door.

When I asked her how she got there, I learned she had a car now. When I asked again, she told me she had a GPS gadget too.

On the way out of the restaurant, I asked her if she recalled where she parked. She did not so I offered to help. We walked around a bit until she recognized anything familiar. In the car, the GPS device could not acquire a signal for a few minutes. This was years before I had a smartphone, so I was left with what I knew about the area.

I found it funny a visually impaired person was navigating for a directionally impaired person. We got home, so it worked out.

Every now and then when I went to events, some people would be surprised to see me and offered a ride home. Some times I felt upset and wanted to ask them where they were before I took public transportation or what not to get there.

Several people had offered rides upon request, but I forgot who had offered what and I don't like bugging people all the time.

Anyway, once a friend told me that when I was out of sight, I was out of mind.

Wow, I reeled. That explained what I figured most people thought. And this from a friend?

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Called to serve

Over the last 11 years I have annually traveled with my parents. Generally it has been on a cruise. I felt I was cutting their costs by a third.

My parents traveled a lot on their own, especially after my Dad retired. My Mom left her part time job years earlier after receiving complaints from her boss that she was taking off too much.

My Aunt once asked them when they were going on a mission. I think she was somewhat jealous of all the places my parents had been. I wanted to object to the idea of them going, but I hoped the idea would die on it's own accord.

I feared the day my parents would want to go on a mission. Apparently, they were waiting for my grandma to pass away.

Shortly after that event, we were eating dinner at Outback restaurant in Northern Virginia. My Mom told me they had submitted this mission papers.

“How could you do this to me?” I complained. “It's so selfish. Who am I going on a cruise with?”

My Dad chuckled at that last question.

Friday, April 07, 2017

Could be worse

Regrets? I think that is too strong of a word. I am always analyzing or evaluating what I could do better, what I should have done, what I probably should not have done, etc.

There was a short book I read when I was a kid called Could be Worse. It's a story about a grandfather who had an outrageous adventure. I remember, or at least I thought I remembered that it was a story about his attitude. All these crazy things happened to him, but things could have been worse.

Many years later, I found the book at my sister's house and started to read it to my nieces. It didn't take long to realize that the grandfather made up the whole story! I was pretty upset.

A friend of mine asked me once how things were going. I told her things could be better.

When questioned further about what could be better, as if I was losing sleep over something, I told her that things could always be better.

There was a missionary on my mission that stated his father would rather have him return home in a body bag then full of regrets. I made the mistake of using that word when saying that I had some regrets. The collective gasp was unreal.

Saturday, March 25, 2017

Traveling the Seven Seas? Not yet?

A friend suggested I write about my travels. I like to go to new places, but compared to my parents, I have not gone very far. You can see my online map here. My parents have two physical maps. One of the world and one with the US. There are many pins on both.

After my next scheduled cruise, I will have 80 days at sea. I guess that is not enough to be the Captain. Good enough to be a midshipmen?

I don’t travel well though it seems. I do not like being cramped in a chair for long flights. Talking to the person next to me is out of the question. I put on my noise reduction headphones and try to get comfortable.

I’m always praying no one sits next to me. Especially someone bigger or fatter than myself. And oh how I bothers me when people cram over stuffed, giant carry-on luggage into the overhead bin.

I utterly hate going through security. Especially domestic flights.

I’ve been working inside secure government buildings for the last 14 years or so and it seems that as soon as I step into an airport that same government that cleared me now views me as a criminal. The anxiety plagues me days before I leave my house to go to the airport.

On a cruise ship I can at least move around. It might take forever to get somewhere, but that is why they call it cruising. Might be nice to stay at a stop for longer than a few hours, but it is good to go to new stops without having to drag my luggage all over.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Men @ Work

I used to know this guy named Workman. I think he should have been called Mailman. He spent more time with mail then he did with work. He even had a typewriter to compose his mail. Who buys a typewriter?

Well, it was 20 something years ago.

Anyway, I feel kind of bad when I throw out garbage. Yet at the same time, it feels good to declutter the living space.

I currently live in a densely packed community and we seemingly produce a lot of garbage. Yesterday the garbageman came as he does every Saturday morning. After making dinner, I took out the trash and the giant bin was already halfway full.

Where does all this crap go? Maybe a bunch of it can be recycled.

The day after Christmas this last year, I walked by the bin and not only was it full, but there were mounds of boxes and what not around the area. I would have taken a picture of it if this lady wasn’t there. It appeared she was looking for something. Merry Christmas?