I Love My Job

Last week Wild Will came in - he's an elderly man who is bipolar and has some major thyroid problems. He lives in a shack with his 12 dogs, all dobermans. He's always crusty and smells and shouts because his hearing's pretty bad. And he always likes to tell people he's bipolar and often suicidal - he'll say while looking you straight in the eye. That week, he brought someone with him. Clean, tall, pleasant-looking young guy - Ray. Good voice, good handshake. Gave Will a ride to clinic. I sat down next to Will and asked how he and Ray were acquainted but Will was coy and wouldn't say. He left for the bathroom and Ray explained that he worked at the Humane Society and investigated animal cruelty. He first met Will because of his 12 dobermans and had to make sure every dog was being properly fed and taken care of. Of course, they weren't, so Ray decided that he'd check up on Wild Will regularly, make sure the dogs were OK. Turns out that not only was Will unable take care of the dogs, he couldn't take care of himself. His health was failing and soon went into respite care. So? Ray decides to take Will into his home, to take care of him and his dogs. Stinky old cantankerous wild wild Will. He has bad hygiene. He's a little crazy, officially. His med schedule is a nightmare. He comes with 12 other bodies that need care. But Ray and his young wife are taking this old man into their home to be his family, at least while they can. Why? Ray says, "Because we know it's the right thing to do."

Some days, the human race amazes me. This was one of those days - I was optimistic about my existence and I was thankful to have a "ball-and-chain" that gave me the chance to meet Will and Ray. I love my job.

It's Always Burnin'

I was working at the coffee shop today - woke up at 5:15AM after going to bed around 3AM. It's $2-Latte Day which means the line of customers looking for their fix is forever and ever. The lack of sleep destroys me on Latte Day.

There was this older gentleman that came in. He was a cyclist and wore his helmet, shades, biker spandex, the whole shebang. He ordered a coffee instead of the mainstream choice ($2-latte). It was a dreary day but right as he came up to the counter I glanced at his riding gear, took a quick look outside and saw that it was sunny for the first time. I smiled and mentioned how nice it was that the sun came out out, not really caring about the sun but more to make conversation and to affirm his choice to ride his bike, especially since the weather seemed to be clearing up. Then he said the most lovely thing in his slow, wobbly voice:

"The sun's always out."

I had to stop and process and eventually realized that this was entirely true. I said, "You are so right. The sun is always out - I guess it's the clouds that roll away." And then he says:

"Yep. It's always burnin'. Have a fun day."

I'm going to my interview now. Over and out.

Ignore Fred & Ginger

I love OSCAR.

Global Rage

"... The currency of the term tolerance has recently become badly debased. When it used to mean the respecting of real, hard differences, it has come to mean instead a dogmatic abdication of truth-claims and a moralistic adherence to moral relativism - departure from either of which is stigmatized as intolerance."  -- Meic Pearse, Why The Rest Hates The West

"Openness - and the relativism that makes it the only plausible stance in the face of various claims to truth and various ways of life and kinds of human beings - is the great insight of our times. The true believer is the real danger. The study of history and of culture teaches that all the world was mad in the past; men always thought they were right, and that led to wars, persecutions, slavery, xenophobia, racism and chauvinism. The point is not to correct the mistakes and really be right; rather it is not to think you are right at all."  -- Allen Bloom, The Closing of an American Mind

Kiss my backside

"It’s the supreme art of the devil that he can make the law out of the gospel. If I can hold on to the distinction between law and gospel, I can say to him any and every time that he should kiss my backside."

-- Martin Luther

I hope you never read this

I don't even know where to begin - I've known this creature for 5 years and I've talked to him more in the past three weeks than I have those other years combined. He's crass and hairy and slightly unattractive and in a word - leprechaun. He thinks I'm mean and calls me out when I publicly castrate him. His words, not mine. He spits (and sweats) when he gets excited. His taste in women is... paltry. I take him shopping and he forces me to come into the dressing room with him so that no one else can hear my critiques. My choice in pants concerns him because they're tighter than he's used to and "what if I get a boner and everyone sees?" His words, not mine.

He sings Alanis in the car and nothing else. He calls me Hilary Clinton because he says I like to think I can destroy men. He goes to the library and checks out The Spiderwick Chronicles and Ravi Zacharias in the same day. When he gets mad at me he threatens to smear his bare feet all over my pillow.

But he listens to me whine. He buys me food when we hang out and makes me laugh so hard I double over and can't talk for 2 minutes. He tells me he sleeps instead of praying and I nod because so do I. He isn't embarrassed that he cries when he thinks about his future and when I tell him secrets I know he'll keep them. His execution is terrible but his heart is big. So is his head.

He's been a large part of my delicately-held-together sanity the past month. If he knew I was so appreciative of our relationship he would freak out and think I was in love with him and cut me off for life, which is another reason why he's an idiot but the greatest. Happy birthday, my hobbit friend. I hope you never read this.

"There are two ways of getting home; and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk around the whole world till we come back to the same place..."

Why is this so difficult?

Metal Heart, You're Not Hiding

Metal Heart, you're not worth a thing.



Oh hidey, hidey, hidey, whatcha tryin' to prove...