Memoirs of a reluctant Bulker

 WARNING: THE FOLLOWING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH TRAINING, CONTAINS POTENTIALLY IRRITATING METAPHORS, IS COMPLETE WITH A MORAL, AND MIGHT CAUSE MENTAL EXPANSION. 

While driving over to pick up some prescriptions (yep, I’m old and have to take stuff for alergies now) the other night, I had all the window’s down on the family truckster (SUV) and was generally just absolutely loving the Phoenix weather, along with Slaughter’s, "Fly to the Angels," song that was currently cranking over the Sirius. For sure, I cannot speak about others and the euphoria they sometimes feel in certain situations, but for me, I sometimes will get goosebumps and a tremendous load of euphoric sensory stimulation when driving along with perfect 70 degree weather and the right song comes on. Welp, in this particular situation, the Universe and stars were perfectly aligned and you got it, I was riding high……..loving life….caring about nothing except the here and now…..loving the crotchety old people next to me, shaking their fist because of my loud music, saying hello to the birds and the bats, smiling at and waving to the nice looking girls in the Jeep Wrangler 4X4 next to me at the light……and just flat out, well……..Feral!!!!

Then I pull into the Walgreens (a local pharmacy chain) parking lot and my euphoric balloon lost it’s metaphorical air………………because there parked in-between two handicapped parking spaces and literally up onto the front entrance of the store is………a giant monster four-wheel drive truck, with yep, an even bigger , seeminlgy young (mid-20’s) butt-wipe in the drivers seat, talking on his cell phone, with his skinny (really skinny) tatooed arm hanging out the open window. "What an a** wipe!" I thought to myself as I walked by, giving him the look that said, "Please, give me the reason to buff-out this parking lot with your face." He of course, glanced in my general direction, and then realizing that I was actually giving him the look (yep that one), he quickly looked away and continued his conversation.

Now, I don’t have anything against skinny and / or tatooed people. Matter of fact, you could make the argument that my wife has both of these traits and I love her. However, the thing that erked me about this particular scenario, and does everytime I see it, was the fact that this loser could not see it fit to park in a regular parking space, so the spaces that are designated for people who cannot actually walk and / or just do not have the physical capacity to park in regular spaces, are free for them to use. And for even added p*nis value, in this particular geospacial situation, the next nearest regular parking spot was maybe, 100 feet away……..I know, in the big picture, just so, so, so far away and how could we legitimately ask a healthy citizen to walk that far?

Being the good citizen that I am (I really am, just ask me, I’ll tell you), I did not say anything verbally to this moronic giant of epic proportion and my reasons were three fold:

1.  I didn’t suppose that his limited intelligence would have allowed him to cognizantly understand the concept of actually allowing those spaces to be used by the less-fortunate, when a person of his obvious importance graces any commercial establishment and has a need for parking or drop-off purposes.

2.  Simply put, I don’t speak p*nis ( a language designed for use by societal p*nis’ only)

3.  A long time ago, I learned that most people’s inapporpriate behavior is not altered by forceful means. So, if this exchange led to a beat down (which I’m alright with, if forced), the tatooed p*nis would not have learned anything other than: the elderly gent who has a special place in his heart for handicapped parking spaces throws a mean right upper cut, and / or the pain from a broken nose doesn’t actually subside for weeks.

So, with that, I allowed the situation to play itself out and just strolled on inside. In this particular scenario, and as things sometimes do, the big guy upstairs already had a plan in mind. Because when I came back out, a COP (POLICE PERSON, doer of justice, officer of the law), had just pulled up behind ‘erectile disfunction p*nis man.’ Understanding that this could be a good show, I hopped into my vehicle unit, comfortably parked in the perfect show watching spot.

The cop, oh a good five foot nothing, maybe one hundred twenty pounds and female (Oh yeah baby!), walked authoratatively around the large vehicle, giving it a once over, before strolling purposefully over to the drivers side of this mountain of a rolling transportation device. From what I could tell, no words were ever exchanged…….instead, the police woman proceeded to write out, no less than three tickets!!!! 

Just a ballpark guess here but I would suppose they were for:

1. Parking in a handicapped spot with no legal allowance

2. Having oversized tires with no mud flaps

3. Being a p*nis

Again, no words were exchanged, just paperwork and signatures, and immediately following the officers departure, p*nis boy (yep, surely he felt like a BOY at that point) quickly backed out of the handicapped area and drove three (yep…..three) spaces over to the nearest regular parking space. Not more than thirty seconds later, a large frumpy woman (perfectly capable of walking, BTW) comes bounding out of the store, in obviouis dismay looking for her probable mode of transportation. Once she noticed that the large vehicle she was looking for was a good fifty feet away, she (with great effort) strolled over to it, got in and they sped off…….with me SMILING and returning to my blissful pre-p*nis man encounter, state.

MORAL: Don’t be a p*nis!

I still remember the hysterical (not in the humorous sense) phone call from my wife, stating that her cousin Brando (name changed to protect the innocent), had died from a massive heart attack. Brando had been out, with three other buddies, bow-hunting for deer, when according to his buddies, he just fell over dead……Just like that. No warning, no symptoms, no nothing, except a little known family secret: Genetic, high blood pressure!

  WHAT???? Brando was only twenty-nine years old, was happily married, had two beautiful children, and was just flat out…….an awesome person. He would help anyone, he was funny, always in a good mood, never sought to hurt anyone, cared about his family first and foremost, was responsible, was a fantastic carpenter and generally was really all a person could ask (or want for that matter) to be. Why such a good person, with so much going for him? Why now? And now that we understand that question can’t be answered, here’s another…….HOW? How could such a healthy person just fall over dead? Notwithstanding the genetic thing, shouldn’t there have at least been some kind of warning? Pain, shortness of breath……..something??? Okay, well, I guess we can’t answer that question definitively, so here’s another to add to the question bank: What now? What about his family, who will take care of them now? What about the funeral and the insurance hassles that now start………will the insurance even help with a pre-existing condition?……….? Question, question, question…..Sorry, not many answers, just deal: because, we are born, we live, we make choices, then we die, right?

Well here’s one more question that all of us should be able to answer right now regarding our death day. If you cannot, you might want to take a good look in the mirror, because at the end of our days, this IS what matters:

1.  Did you make a difference?

When you are gone and in the ground, under the ocean, in the atmosphere, in the heavens (whatever your belief may be….pick the most applicable), what will the living say? Will they write books about your life? Will children two-thousand years from now, be studying your life in their textbooks? Will millions of people owe their health to you, your observations and / or your analysis?

How do you think Shakespeare, Jesus Christ, or even Leonardo DaVinci lived their lives? Might we suppose that they woke every morning, with an attitude that suggested they were not looking forward to another day of making a difference? Or said things to others like, "Holy crap Sir Windham, I’m just not sure I can take another day of this office BS that is going around…..yeah, I’m saying that I hate my job, and I really just don’t care about making a difference anymore!" When I was a frontline supervisor, I of course managed many different personalities, and generally after one month of managing a new group of people, I could tell you exactly how each of my people looked at life. Yep, believe it or not, most managers have this ability. And, sorry for the revelation here, but actually, most people have this innate ability. And yep again, you are constantly being analyzed by someone. Your attitude and actions are the indicating mediums that tell people what to think of you: Not what you say!…………..Special emphasis here………………

HAVE YOU MADE A DIFFERENCE TODAY?

So how about that question, right? "Whaddayamean" you ask? Well, unfortunately, and much to the chagrin of the mainstream folks out there, it doesn’s matter what you have at the end of the day. What truly matters, is what have you done? Is your workplace better today, since you actually showed up to work? Are your kids smarter today, since you were around? Is your spouse a better person, or happier, since you were there for her / him today? Are your neighbors happy that you are their neighbor?……………etc. etc. This list of questions could go on forever, but I think you get the point. Unfortunately, and maybe because of the mainstream, alot of us don’t care if things are better. A lot of us are content just getting by, using up consumables, paying bills, playing our games, putting bigger and better components on our vehicles, and / or upgrading our countertops in the kitchen.

EXCUSE ME MR. BUS DRIVER, BUT I WANT OFF THIS CRAZY RIDE!!!!!

Why does it not matter anymore, what people do for others? What people do for the greater cause? Why does the majority of our children just want to grow up and buy this or that? Have we really created an atmosphere bent solely on existense? Are we as a society continually improving? Or are we all just spinning our wheels, waiting for the big one?

So, now that you have endured this lengthy diatribe I propose an experiment: Set a short term goal for today. Something along the lines of: Make a positive difference somehow, today! Meet that goal, and I promise you, the feelings or dare I say, EUPHORIA, you’ll experience, will have you coming back for more……

Imagine working and living in an environment, that was all about making a positive difference, and continual improvement. I must wonder aloud: Might we have already been to the other side of our galaxy…..might we be disease-free……would we all be flying to work? IF, IF, IF

MIGHT WE ALL BE HAPPIER!!!!!!

Brando’s death, while sudden, saddening, tragic, and just plain unfair, was a wake-up call for me. I was a user, was just a number, was a mass of human flesh toiling away day-after-day. The moment I got that phone call, was the moment I started asking myself the extremely tough question: 

"DID I MAKE A DIFFERENCE TODAY?" 

The store was filled to capacity and the air was stuffy as the ambient temperature had risen to an unexpected 103 degrees. Here in late April, most commercial and retail establishments are still banking on making it into the first part of May before cranking the A/C’s up to full-speed-ahead. Most Basinoians (Phoenicians), having knowledge of this fact, were therefore appropriately dressed in kahki shorts, capri pants, tee-shirts, sandals, deck shoes, tank-tops and for the women (I’m sure there were some men too, but I don’t want to think about that), summer dresses.

So, as I casually meandered through the store, looking for the items I was there to fetch and occasionally noticing the nice looking women in their very nice summer attire (oh yes, Phoenix typically provides very nice scenery), out from the corner of my eye, and in the same manner a magnet attracts a large piece of scrap metal, I noticed a train wreck of a human being. Now, I know what you’re thinking….."how can he be so callus, what a jerk!" right?…..well let me explain a few things before I continue. I am generally a person that does not judge anyone up front, regardless of how you look, what your skin color is, what gender you are, how large your big toes are, etc. I understand first and foremost that it takes all shapes, sizes and kinds to make this world of ours go around…..and having been in frontline managerial positions, I understand that anyone and everyone has at a minimum, something to offer.

Having said that, this particular monstrosity of a person, should not have either been allowed to become such an obstruction to humanity, or at a minimum, been allowed to purchase the clothing (or more appropriately, modular skirting) she was wearing (or covered with, per say). For the same reasons we pay to see the headless woman at the carnival, must look at houses burning, must ascertain all of the details surrounding the highway vehicle accident we just passed, and feel compelled to watch the generally negative, nightly news, this lady had a shock and grotesque factor that I’m sure, is most probably illegal in other countries.

It started with the fact that she was a proud member of the five-spins on the scale club (or five-hundered pounds). Now, again, typically, while repulsed and saddened, by these types of individuals, I generally do not stare, point or make fun of, and I expect that of my kids. But, in this particular instance, I immediately made a negative judgement and would’ve shielded my kids from this anomaly of epic proportions, had they been there. My reasons are this:

1. She was complaining and actually yelling at a proud management member of the retail establishment, who was listening intently and trying to be understanding. The argument was about a "candy bar" special the store was running and for whatever reason, she just could not understand why her food stamps (yep, food stamps) could not be used for the candy bars.

2. Being five bills big, she had no business wearing (oh, I’m repulsed just remembering) a pair of bright pink biker pants that had been initially intended for a fifteen year old girl and were therefore literally splitting at the seems. Flaps, you ask? Good Lord have mercy, yes! There was actually one constant belly-flap all the way around these poor stressed-to-the-max pants that by itself had to have weighed a good 100 pounds. The outfit as it worked on up included a thin, neon green tube top, that was absolutely struggling to hold in two huge beach balls as well as a second gargantuan flap that adorned her upper back…..Oh yeah, sexy times a thousand don’t you think? I know, I know, what about the hair…….Yep, there was back hair!!!!!

ARE YOU STILL WITH ME? I DON’T BLAME YOU, I WOULDN’T BE EITHER. HOWEVER THERE’S MORE……IF INTERESTED. 

3. The topper to my disgust, was (after blinking a bunch of times to clear the tears from my, now burning eyes) that once the manager finally relented, (I’m sure out of pure sympathy) she rolled out of the store, over to the nearest handicapped parking spot and squeezed into a brand new Hummer II. Once safely in, she thrust it into reverse and stormed backwards, never even seeing the poor elderly gent in the Cadillac she almost ran straight over.

My synopsis and thesis for the situation:

It distresses me: First, that a human being knowingly and cognizantly will allow themselves to balloon into such a monstrosity that large mammals are confused into thinking they are human. Second, that these same BOUS’s (Beings Of Unusual Size) are allowed to buy more food at the expense of you and I (Foodstamps) and then can stroll out to their brand new vehicle (foodstamps, welfare, remember). Third, that anyone (including BOUS’s), can feel comfortable being an absolute sub-human by looking to belittle upstanding members of our society, who are legitamately trying to please the public.

Morale? Two-fold: If you weigh more than a small elephant, do not wear tube tops or biker pants, period. And remember, people who are staff members of your local retailer, are human, have emotions, and do not get paid enough to take verbal beat downs from anyone……especially BOUS’s that are bent on visually assaulting other member’s of society.