Driving Question

The wife and I like to take long drives and engage in meandering conversations which often tend toward the philosophical.  Last time around, she asked what I would do if I could go back and change my life.

I thought about it, and I wouldn’t change much.  My life is good.  I’ve got a great family, good friends, a nice place to live, and I make tolerable money doing something I enjoy.  The health stuff isn’t too bad most days, and I’ve got enough free time to indulge my hobbies and projects.  I've made plenty of mistakes, but I wouldn’t want to risk having things too different then they are now.

If I’d been more serious in my teens and 20’s, I probably would’ve made more money sooner.  But I probably wouldn’t have met my wife, and that would suck.  If I had pursued music more tenaciously, or had tried harder to sell my writing, then likewise no uberwife and probably even more self destructive behavior.

I regret not being a better person, particularly in my teens and 20’s.  I could have gotten where I wanted to go without all the Jack Daniels.  I should’ve been more careful in my relationships, and less selfish. I’ve decided that my life is better when I’m more moderate, when I’m less narcissistic, pretentious, unedited, when I consider my decisions and am less capricious.

At least, that’s how I see things most days these days.

Other days, Fuck that.

I am my excesses.  I am better, truer, more interesting, when I lead an angry, unconsidered life.  Narcissism is the better path for me since --lets face it -- there is a lot to love. And you discover all sorts of shit about yourself after splitting a fifth with a redhead whose name you can’t quite recall.  Besides, being drunk and chasing women was FUN!  Being loud was FUN! Breaking stuff was FUN!  Loudly breaking stuff with unchaste women is FUN FUN FUN!

At least as I recall it.  Truthfully, it’s been quite a while. (15years at least :)

In a more honest assessment of my younger years, most of my adventures sucked either in part or in whole.  For every good story, there are three bad ones.  I wasn’t drinking so much because I was happy.  The chase was more desperation then celebration, and the narcissism wasn’t at all sincere.

So most days, the boy I used to be has very little say in the internal conversation.   

He’s still there to offer his opinion once in a while, but most of the time I’ll tell him to shut up.

This quiet life is better:  My wife is downstairs jogging on the treadmill, singing along to the Bangles (she doesn’t know I can hear).  Our nearly teenage son is still asleep.  I have a busy day planned of watching political TV, reviewing investments and making firewood of a tree that fell deep in the forest.

Maybe I’ll invite the angry me out to help work the chainsaw.

Latvian Beer Story

Few nights back, I met a guy who had married a Latvian woman.  They had lived in the States for several years, and the guy had never met his wife’s family.  When they finally took a trip to the old country, they decided to stay with his wife’s parents so everyone could get to know each other.

The first day, the wife had to run some errands and left the guy with his father in law.  The old man spoke no English, the young man spoke no Latvian.  After watching some t.v. in awkward silence, the old man gestured to the fridge and took out a bottle.  He pointed to the guy, as if to ask if he wanted a beer.  And since the guy didn’t want to offend, he nodded.

The old man poured a tall glass of beer, then took out a jar of creamed herring from the fridge, stirred a dollop into the glass, and handed it to the guy.

Although it didn’t appeal to him, the guy didn’t want to offend.  He choked down the beer and herring mix.  After he finally finished, the old man went to the fridge, took out another beer, cracked a raw egg into it, stirred it up and gave it to the man.

Again, not wanting to offend the local custom, the young man choked down the mixture.

The old man smiled and nodded, then went back to the fridge, took out a beer and mixed in a great number of things:  Pickles, Mustard, spices, etc.

The young man had reached his limit, and finally just shook his head no. The old man offered again, unsuccessfully but then shrugged, laughed, dumped out the beer in the sink and they went back to watching TV.

A while later when his wife returned, the young man relayed the story of his introduction to Latvian culture and cuisine.

“We don’t do shit like that,” His wife told him.  “Dad was just fucking with you.”

Long live the King!

When I was eight or nine, I would visit grandma in Tacoma.  She sometimes called me Gus, which was the name of the cat.  Gus was a sort of nickname and sort of a salutation in teenage Maryland  (Sup Gus).  And Angus became a callsign for various things back when I would waste time on unimportant things instead of wasting time on important things (like being King of a blog.) 

Some years back, after a drink or two and yelling and throwing shoes at Bill Mahr and his court on the TV  I decided I wanted to be King too.  Angus seemed a good and right Kingly name, so I registered my domain, made plans to begin my reign, but went to sleep instead.

And forgot about it. 

Years past.

But last week, I saw King Bill talking again.  He voiced an opinion that voting Republican was akin to acquitting Casey Anthony  -- due to the economic history of the past 15 years.  (Economics aren’t his strong suit.)

Rather than empirically refute the segment point by point, let me instead modestly suggest that it is ass-faced stupidity.  Stupidity so stupid, an unsuspecting viewer may never again have an intelligent thought.  It is as stupid as Songify (which I fucking LOVE!)  It is as stupid as believing it is okay to sleep near anthills after spilling Mountain Dew on your crotch. 

It is so stupid, you will wake up with caffeinated insects gnawing your junk. 

But alas, rationally discussing economic or political dumbshittery on Facebook or emails is dull work and makes you few friends.  It is a shameful habit, best done in the dark (like that peanut butter thing you did as a teenager) so I will keep my thoughts in my own little kingdom.

My apologies in advance.