I’m half asian and was once called a chink to my face by a stranger. I let it go based on the idea that, “hey, some people are just ignorant.” Sometimes things are just worth letting …
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Walking Drifters - Learning to walk is hard. It takes most humans like 18 months to learn how to do it. But once you learn to do it, it ranks just behind breathing, blinking and judging people by their taste in music as the easiest thing a human can do. After all, it’s so easy you can learn to do it when you’re 18 months old. So unless you are missing a leg, or one leg is comically longer than the other, you should be able to walk in a straight line with little to no effort. Before breathalyzers were invented this was 90% of the police “are you drunk?” test…..Full Article
My dad has had heart problems for as long as I can remember. Yet the idea of his death has never been real to me. Until my late 20’s, death in general hadn’t ever been real to me.
As I said, my dad has had heart problems for as long as I can remember. He was a relatively older guy when I was born. I’m 29 now and he’ll be 70 this year. He’s still fit enough and loves playing volleyball. Yet, a few years ago he suffered a heart attack in a hotel room. He had enough time to call an ambulance and then call my mom and say his goodbyes. I’m sure the operator on the other end of his first call tried to keep him on the line, but listening has never been his style. I don’t know for sure how these calls went as I’ve never had the guts to ask and I’m sure I never will. For all I know the order of calls could be reversed. However, if there’s 2 things in this world you don’t want for your dad, it is for him to die and for him to see you cry. So I’ll never ask for any further information. What I do know is that he experienced a period of time where he believed he had to say goodbye.
I was on a trip to see the Warped Tour with a group of friends and my mom didn’t want to ruin my trip and never told me the situation until after the fact. She did call that night and seemed troubled, but never said why. By the time I found out why, my dad was alive and well. To me, it became one heart problem in a line of many. The fact he has conquered death so many times, subconsciously I guess, makes me believe the inevitable will never occur. Most boys who grow up with a loving father believe he’s Superman. When it comes to your dad, I guess a boy never grows up. So his death, which is hopefully in the very far future, has never been real to me.
There’s only ever been 3 life altering deaths in my life. That’s not to say there hasn’t been more deaths. Only 3 have significantly affected my perception of the urgency of life. For instance, I cried my eyes out at my best friend’s dad’s funeral, but it didn’t change how I viewed life.
The first occurred while I was in college. It was one of my dad’s best friends, Butch. He had a heart attack mowing his lawn. I was young and drunk when I found out. I walked outside of a party and cried. I don’t know for sure if there’s a Heaven or a Hell, however, I’d like to believe that even the most hardcore Atheist can picture a Heaven and smile at the slightest possibility of its existence. So with that in mind, I walked outside of the party, cried, poured out part of a drink (as was the style of the time), and held one to the sky, where I hoped he was. That year I was fortunate enough to give our commencement speech. While writing my speech I made a point to thank the dead who couldn’t physically be with us. Until Butch died, this thought would have never crossed my mind. In fact, until this is published, I’m not sure that anyone will ever now why I’d specifically invited his wife to see my speech. Yet, while Butch’s death put death on my radar, he was still an older guy. So I’d yet to recognize the urgency of life.
In my late 20’s, Jeff, a Sheriff’s Deputy in my home town died in a car accident. We weren’t close, though many of my friends were. This wasn’t the first time someone in our age group had died, but it was the first time it happened at this age. I cried all night. I cried so long I didn’t go to work the next day. Watching my friend’s reactions, I don’t know if this was the first time I truly felt the significance of one person’s life in another’s, but looking back, I can’t think of a more significant instance. This was also the first time I started to think of my own mortality. My best friend, the same who’s dad’s funeral I’d cried my eyes out at, had previous bad blood with Jeff. He would later tell me that a few months prior he and Jeff had buried the hatchet. He told me how important it was that he’d done this while he had the chance and I should think about doing the same with my grudges. This hit me hard. Sadly, I’ve yet to do it.
Lastly, and most significantly, is my friend Teresa. She is the single greatest reason for my current way of life. If you know me personally, you know I do improv comedy. At one point, a year into my Improv life I was ready to be done with it. The friends I once had were moving on to bigger things without me. I had no direction. Then I met Teresa at an Improv jam. She was a social butterfly and immediately became friends with everybody she came in contact with. She was bound and determined to make every moment of her life count. I didn’t know then that she was dying of cancer.
Back then when I had nothing to do, I would do one-off drop-in improv classes. I wasn’t sure about going that Sunday morning, but I saw that Teresa had posted on Facebook that she was going and hoped others would. So I went. It was the greatest decision I ever made. That day she introduced me to 2 of her good friends she’d recently met through improv and eventually introduced me to a 3rd, all of whom became my close friends and improv teammates. One of which I still talk to everyday and has seen me cry way too many times.
Teresa never wanted her having cancer to be a thing and didn’t tell many people, but she eventually told me about it in private. I was her good friend, but I wasn’t a best friend. She had best friends. People she’d met within the short amount of time she’d been doing comedy, something she’d chosen to do after learning of her cancer. As that short amount of time became 2 years, I watched those best friends nurse her and love her as she grew weaker and weaker. They no longer slept because their own lives were no longer the most important lives in their worlds. Those friends taught me so much about life and friendship. A couple of days before she died I visited her in her apartment, she was surrounded by those friends. I’d brought her a collage of everyone she’d touched since I’d met her. In her state I don’t know if she could even make out the pictures. I’ll always hope it brought her happiness in her last days. But knowing it probably didn’t, I’ll always regret I didn’t bring it sooner.
I’ve cried more times thinking of Teresa than I have about anything in my adult life. She taught me so much about making the most out of the time you’re given. She also taught me about the celebration of life. Before she died she’d said that at her memorial service she didn’t want us to cry, she wanted people to drink smoothies. She wanted a clip from the Flight of the Concords to be played. She wanted Improv! All of these things happened. I shed more tears of joy that day than I did tears of sadness.
Recently my mom has fallen on hard times. To use a cliche, it’s easier to count the things that aren’t wrong with her than to count the things that are. She’s 15 years younger than my dad. I’d never believed in the reality of my dad dying, so the thought of my mom dying hadn’t ever crossed my mind. But now that possibility is real. I still believe she will get better. So much so that I started writing this whole thing to write this paragraph and can’t write it because I find it to be far too premature. Or maybe it’s because as much as I’ve learned about the urgency of life, I’m still not strong enough to face anything of significance until the moment it happens.
The only thing I do know is that tomorrow isn’t a given. I used to think that statement reflected one’s reluctance to accomplish their goals in the time that they are given on this earth. I’m starting to think it really means you should make the most of the time you have with the ones you love. Honestly, I guess those 2 ideas should be one in the same.
A year ago today a friend and I were chatting up a young lady named Angela Perrone after we’d performed in the Carla show. I thought we were hitting it off and so did my friend, so he told me to go for it and made an excuse to walk away. I asked if she’d like to get a drink the following week. She said something like, “aaaaa…. Ummm… *tugs at collar* errr well..”
At this point I thought, “ohhh… shit.”
She then said, “do you have a business card on you?” I did not. She began to rummage through her purse as if to be looking for one but not really looking, “I don’t either, creeper. Go the eff away,” it felt like she replied.
Spring Training has begun, so that could only mean one thing… Hollywood Awards Season! So as the movie industry relives the year that was, cleanse your brain of all that Football and get a refresher on all the MLB stuff you probably forgot… Oscars style.
After serving a 10 year sentence in Japan and at the analyst desk, Bobby Valentine is released and offered shelter by the Bishop of Boston, John Henry. Valentine is tasked with changing the BoSox culture of beer and fried chicken after the Sox finished 2011 by blowing a 9 game lead in the Wildcard.
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Right field. Section 203. Yankee Stadium. This is the home of the Bleacher Creatures, some of the strongest supporters in North American sports. Our closest resemblance to soccer fans, well except for our MLS fans who are kind of like soccer’s version of Royals fans….