Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Fighting On

There are no excuses in deal-making, particularly if you do want to make one.  (Wait, is that even a sentence?)  So, in times that are good for seemingly everyone but myself, it lead me back to Hollywood and a discussion of current standings and plans. 

I wish I was speaking of Conference USA football bets, but sadly, I am not.  More pressing matters exist.

As a result, I've been looking in unexpected areas...some rarely searched territory.  On other fronts, the "usual" - though not so much to me.  Calls, bribes, the usual.  But we're looking for gold, and if cardinal comes with it, I'm not arguing with the decision.  We're also aiming for the future of the biznazz, which was the main topic of the meal.

Sydney kept sending suggestions, I concurred, and they were correct.  The night kept moving, we kept agreeing, and happiness continued for all.  You can tell when effort is made, and while it kept coming, it was a motivator.  We wanted more.

We ambled out up Fairfax stuffed and pleased, but only one of us was satisfied for the future.  It wasn't me, and while I have these plates spinning and things are looking up, the shit monkey remains on my back.


Thursday, October 27, 2016

When days grow short

Sands slip through...feelings began to meander...thoughts became an unpaved road that end without ending...

I'm at arm's length, but I can't help but be filled with wonder: what's going through this mind?  Not what he'll tell me, but what actually is going on in there.  We're in the airport taking what could very well be his last flight.  He's in "fine spirits" for someone who ripped open a tea bag all over the table (for reasons we can't quite place) and later spit up a portion of his lunch.  He then offered up one of his tacos (from the same plate) because he "hadn't touched it."  I politely declined, appetite long gone.

All senses are go in a location like this, but I'm getting nothing in return.  I offer comforting small talk.  Half-smiles, even a look my way.  Minutes later, I'm asked if I just spoke about...well, what I spoke about.  I agree.  He nods.

Once landed, it's an avalanche for him:  He says little, letting the squawking wash over him.  Moving, already complicated, is met with disagreement or a dismissive wave of the hand.  Dinner is a mild complication, as it is these days, but once it's served, ends are met.  I decide to give him space, something he isn't getting much of today.  A few attempts to make conversation don't work.  It's shrugged off.

You learn a lot in situations like this, it's true.  Not only about how to deal in and with such situations, but about yourself.  It seems far off, but I've been writing on this screed for 11 years.  That means I'm over a decade older and you start to see halftime, if you will.  What's your endgame plan?  How do you plan on running out the clock in certain victory?  How much will you let your assistant coaches do at the time?  I've seen bad clock management in life.  I don't wish it on anyone. 

We'll meet again, in a week or so, and if I see happiness, that's a win.  If it looks like stoicism, I'll hope that's what it is; when you can't keep up, how do you respond?

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

"When's Breakfast?"

Normally, when you drive past the train tracks and see a man struggle with an overflowing, ripped grocery bag of food, you just keep on driving.  Any other time, I would.  But this time it was Potsy, and he was in Dealville. 

The arrival came with two (2) gallon tubs of Brandy Slush.  What other kind of signifier would anyone else need on what the future would entail?  It was meant as a pleasant surprise, and it was...and my freezer was already packed with items I myself also did not purchase.  So, it went in the fridge, while a half-dozen boxes of Kraft Mac n Cheese (because it might not be sold in Los Angeles) lined the counter.  It took me some time to begin to adjust my surroundings, so off he went to bar hop and visit an all-night haunt, Doughnut Hut.

Having downed a drink and a doughnut (or donut), we were then off for a Campfire Feast.  When you dine with Potsy, you pay extra for the Wagon Wheel Sampler.  His steak arrives "smothered."  The side dishes contain vegetables in definition only, and the meal is capped with something called "Big Mountain Fudge Cake."  Despite the revelry and good taste, my body tried to sort out just what I was trying to accomplish.  Potsy?  He wandered up to the Holiday Inn and said to the front desk the quote above.

The whole visit, though, was for a marathon day of college football.  It did not disappoint.  We screamed in joy for Central Michigan's victory, we ate taco chips.  We grilled tri tip, we didn't burn down the neighbor's home.  We drank sangria, and we watched over (and over) a punt return from the Texas Southern / Houston Baptist game.  Dining outside, we all enjoyed the day's good fortune.

And, just like that, he was back toward the tracks.  Off to make more slush, off to find more classic car shows with taco trucks.  Myself?  Well, by Sunday I had a lot of walking-off to do.  My body was put through an extra endurance run, this time without the Las Vegas adrenaline to keep me going.  The settings may be different, the elements may vary, but the outcome is always gold.  This is what we do in the fall.

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Everyone gets a turn

If any of our drive-by readers have spent time in a monitoring cell, if even for brief stays, you are more aware of current society's scourge more than most.  It's a modern phenomenon, and the surprising annoyance comes from all angles.  It's a button that's shaped differently from here to there...but the result is the same.

Look at that thing.  Sure, YOU'VE seen it...everyone has seen it, millions have used it (maybe even someone you know).  But the abuse of this button is something that, in this century, has caused a greater waste of time than daydreams, day-drinking, and...wait, drinking isn't a waste of time.

Anyway, the abuse in commerce and employment hits you in many different ways.  "I guess I need to take a look at this."  Sometimes, it's helpful.  Many more times, it's not.  Personal messages sent to everyone involved.  Dozens of e mails with "sounds good," "works for me," and "THANKS!" clouding the day.

All right, so you have more stuff to delete.  It's annoying, but that's work.

Oh, but if it was only work.

The "funny forward" continues to this day, and the confused have mastered smartphones just enough to do that and install the Papa John's app.  There you are on forward #11 of "Vacation Pics!" or "These Rodney Dangerfield jokes are so funny!"  OK, thanks...but wait!  What does everyone think of this?

"lol"  "Hi Carl"  "THANKS!"

Long ago, former Pacific Gold writer Drew Boatman said it was "the talk" that sent he and his lady to the far reaches of the Earth.  That whatever was said just HAD to be said...and then commented on (necessary or, more likely, otherwise) by all.  I'm not planning such a trip...yet.  This nonsense is what social media is BUILT ON, so even an avoidance of that doesn't mean you're free.  What to do?

Didn't I say something about drinking?

Saturday, July 30, 2016

Wouldn't You Know It?

Yeah, I'm real glad things are going good for you, Clark.  Mmm hmm.  No, I got laid off, uh, when they closed that asbestos factory.  And now, wouldn't you know it?  The Army cuts my disability pension, cause they said the plate in my head wasn't big enough.

Eddie, Clark and Ellen don't want to hear about our troubles.

Oh no, it's very interesting.

Why don't you just ASK him for the money, Eddie?  He sure as hell can't take a hint!

Well, I didn't want to ask you Clark, but...could ya spare a little, you know, extra cash?

Sure, Eddie!  How much you need?

About $52,000.

Friday, June 24, 2016

Best Intentions

Despite the malaise that kept my professional life in a constant state of indigestion, it appeared that, in the heart of Spring, that I had won the war of attrition.  Business was changing, and it all appeared that the future was bright.  Hugs were given all around.

Even if it wasn't bright, I strive for little more than normal in life...and, through that point, that's what I received.

But then, one day, I'm told that hey, it's just business.  Not personal.  (Not personal to anyone but me, of course) what?

I tell my work contacts...frankly anyone who could help.  Try not to get depressed.  Try not to drink...well, not to drink more than usual.  Try to look at the bottom line.  Try to keep saying that "the best is yet to come."  Try to sit and nod politely while people say it's a "great time to get a new job" and "you'll get something soon."

If we only knew what we didn't, right?

Had I not taken this plunge, the one my body sent me warning signs about (and then it turned out to be correct immediately) I'd be short of some of the great things I now have in my life.  I'd likely be happy in work but struggling in other items.  All wants...but this is different.  It's a need.

The song goes:
I know it's too late now
But, I wish I could go back in time
And start all over somehow
And get it right from the start

I look forward to writing that this new fear is over.  Looking forward...

Wednesday, May 18, 2016

Good Morning, Dave: Vindication Hardware

It's been a while since The David Letterman Show ended.  Dave has since guest-hosted The Tonight Show multiple times and created an HBO special titled "Looking for Fun."  (It's a doozy)  But, the Daytime Emmys are also this time of year, and the show has already won a writing award in the non-televised program.  Up next is the hosting award, and we turn (as we did for every important entertainment extravaganza back then) to Dick Clark.

Yes, he introduces Hasselhoff.

As you'll see in the clip:
1. Even in a "serious" setting, Dave wryly sends-up the task of award-show thanks.  Then turning serious, he finishes with another joke.  I can't help but thinking it's said with just a touch of "all these months later...seriously, what am I going to do now?"

2. Deidre Hall applauds him off with a warm smile.  Can't place the guy next to her...guessing he was on Days of Our Lives as well.  Dick Clark smiles and applauds as he takes the stage, but then he did that with everyone, on every show, because he was a god damn pro.

3. Following the award, it goes to outstanding variety series.  I'll leave it up to you which is the better show between Dave and Merv.  Ricky Schroder steals the Merv clip.  Is it let-down applause?  Merv's producer is polite, though.

4. Seeing the ads, the early 80's were THE time for soap operas.

So it goes.  A year ago (in May of 1980), Dave was promoting this show ahead of time on The Tonight Show, and seemed slightly nervous at the daunting challenge ahead of him.  By the time he'd ironed out the kinks, it didn't last much longer.

A year after this (by May 1982), however, he'd be doing the same kind of show, and never looked back.  (Seriously, even at the end of the Late Show, the clips weren't exactly overflowing, particularly from the morning show days)  But there he is, an Emmy winning host, unknowingly biding his time.