A Human Condition

Working the job I do, you have your finger on the pulse of the sense of entitlement out there. People want something for nothing, the customer is always right and feel despite the fact you treat them with the utmost respect and dignity they have no qualms rubbing your face in their inability to return some common courtesy.

Of course not everyone is like this, some are decent and even nice. For the most part my contact with people beyond my own circle of friends and family leaves something to be desired. Now, you have to take into account the people I talk to have legit issues which are irritating. However, what people expect out of a relatively small amount of money is completely disproportionate.

Let's say you pay $85 dollars a month for your cable bill. Extrapolate it over the course of a year and you pay $1,020. It's not enough to cover one of my paychecks. So how would you losing a few hours of service be grounds for you to request an entire month of service? I don't work for a cable company, however this hypothetical request is something I deal with on a minute to minute basis.

All in all, and despite people asking for the sun, moon and stars, I still love the challenge of what I do. The job is a daily acquisition of puzzle pieces making you better than you were yesterday, and I really appreciate it. I need things to exercise my mind or I would go nuts. More so than I already am.

So I have this to fall back one while I'm hiatus from full-time school which I am excelling at to my surprise, but to the surprise of no one else. Maybe one of the things I feared was I knew I could be successful at this and I'd have to hear everyone say "I told you so." Being a 4.0 student and the drive I have to get there (which not surprisingly, doesn't require as much as I thought it might) is bleeding over into the professional aspect of my life. Now, if I could apply it to getting into the gym and landscaping my yard, my wife would love me that much more.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

Glad you asked, let me explain...

Detaching myself from how I operated from about the age of 15 to the age of 27 is a process still in development. A big part of who I am stems from my broken home as a teen in high school, and it is something I don't talk about much on my blog. At least compared to the rest of the mindless and some meaningful topics I tackle or stumble over.

Self reliance is a trait most see as invaluable. However too much can be poison. I wasted ten good years of my life figuring it out. I dropped out of college, messed up friendships and relationships, and even fell into some that damaged me emotionally and financially. I ran over some good people, and cut strings from people I thought I'd be attached to my entire life. Counting on only yourself leaves little room for others.

My relationship with my family hasn't been the same since I decided I didn't need them. My extended family is an afterthought, the people I looked up to as a child were demystified to the point of them being useless while I searched for someone else to fill the void. What I learned was I became me through the people I wanted to dispose of, which caused a deep resentment directed at myself. I hated and disliked me, because of what I thought everyone else who had my last name (or my Mom's) screwed me out of what I deserved in life. Funny thing is, they wanted to do everything they could to keep me from being so bitter. Being right all the time blinds you from those who are trying to assist you.

My sense of entitlement and my success in life I thought would just be a given. I deserved it just because of who I was. Did it come from how I was raised? I was praised quite a bit, but I never followed through on it. The people I was close too and loved, it was good enough for them so why even try harder? I've learned over the past few years, and more recently with this current job, just being there doesn't entitle you shit. It fosters a great deal of complacency, and you get lazy.

I missed out on a lot of life in some respects. The loss of a close family member and a couple of friends couldn't make me see the light in my early 20's, but a group of kids 10 years younger than me, and disgruntled cell phone users from around the country helped me break the mold. Most of all, my wife and companion has helped me. She probably wouldn't know why exactly, and maybe neither do I. There are quite a few unspoken phenomena in our relationship.

Repairing what I've lost and salvaging what I can is a double edged sword at this point. Moving from Sioux Falls to Kansas City allowed me to bury things that needed burying. But it also prevents me from mending some fences, which is hard to let go of. But I carry on and do what I can when I can. The older you get the smaller your world becomes. When you are striking out on your own, everything and everyone is so important. But the moments you have with the people you trust and love become more real when you don't try to be everything to everyone.

It's sort of cliche, the closer I get to 30 the more I see the previous 29 years shrinking in the rear view mirror. It's a good thing, because the weight I was carrying around my neck almost choked me to death. Basically what I'm hoping for is not to be so bitter when I have crappy cell phone reception and have to call to get it fixed and don't hassle the guy or gal on the other end of the line too much. All I can hope for is everyone else out there is coming to a moment of self-realization akin to what I am experiencing.

Making the rounds

Deciding what is important and what you value is shaped by those around you. At least to a certain extent. From a young age you quickly learn what "cool" is. Sometimes you do all you can do grab onto it and the rest of the time you do what you can to punch it in the face.

Taking movies or music seriously as art or something with a message is difficult. If your neighbor doesn't know about it, then it has value and carries weight with people interested in staying ahead of the curve. The older I get I learn that finding value in what moves you is more daring than conforming to what is easy or what is difficult. Someone who likes Brittney Spears because they like pop music gets more respect from me as opposed to someone who likes Fleet Foxes or MGMT because they're supposed to.

Why all the exposition? Every few years I decide it's a good idea to dust off the Metallica albums I own, which is all of them. This band came in and out of my life at various times. Angst riddled teen (twice), curious pre-teen, college student, mid-twenties with an insta-family guy, and approaching thirty year old dude.

When you have a group as commercially successful as Metallica is, it's hard to take anything they do and make it believable. It's like saying the Yankees have heart and are scrappy. They get paid too much. Art doesn't come from guys with a zillion dollars in the bank. Or does it?

I'm always mystified by the rise of Metallica. At least now I am. When I was 14 I just loved what the music did to me. It tickled the bone in my body that wanted to break stuff. For a kid whose parent's marriage was a ticking time bomb, it was the perfect soundtrack to the dimise of childhood innocence.

Like any good current or former metal head, I'd say Metallica's albums from the 80's are my favorites. But I'd be remiss not to mention post "Black Album" efforts from the band are interesting in their scope and ability to branch out. I can respect a band for not beating a gimmick to death and doing something new at the risk of alienating the masses.

Maybe it's because of their new Guitar Hero game taking me back. I don't play the real guitar much anymore, and it reminds me of when I did, and when I was good at it. Really good. I'm not going as far as to say I'm trying to recapture my youth, because that would mean I'm admitting it's gone.

Having parents who went out when I was nine or ten meant being babysat my the girls in my neighborhood who ranged from 12 to 16 years old. This also meant there were no limits on what I could watch on television. Not that I paid any mind to the no MTV clause in my childhood contract with my Mom, who insisted it would rot my brain. You can imagine impressionable youths having their minds warped while watching videos like this.


I still love the video. Completely unlike everything on MTV, which I was actually getting bored with at the age of nine. Pretty funny and a sign of things to come.

I knew what I was watching. The radio station I fell asleep to every night had a Top 9 at nine countdown, and despite mainstream success being a few years away for this band, it was number one night after night when "...And Justice For All" was released. The video hooked me, even though I didn't really know it yet. All the older guys in my neighborhood listened to this stuff and being cool kept you from being harassed and mildly accosted.

I posted the picture above of Metallica because it's the first image I remember and was connected to. Pre-big time success and still out there on the edge which scared your parents. Remember recording tapes from your friends? I do, and my first Metallica tape came while I was still at Cleveland Elementary School. It was a mix of "Justice" and "Master of Puppets." The music was scary and dark for a kid who probably should have been listening to Roxette or Micheal Jackson. The first song on my tape, which I snuck past my parents until I got the actual CD for Christmas in 7th grade, was "Blackened" where one of the famous lines is as follows.

"See your mother put to death, see your mother die."

Pretty heavy for a fourth grader. Guns 'n Roses was probably as close as I got to something this dark. Knowing now lead singer James Hetfield was writing about his mom dying from cancer and not being able to do anything about it because of her Christian Scientist faith puts some context I probably could have used at the time. It scared the crap out of me and interested me all at the same time. I was confused by it and yet couldn't put it down.

I'm not sure what this says about me, or why I still go back to it occasionally with a fervor while all my friends listen to God knows what, modern country like Toby Keith or some bullshit like that. Maybe because even though being married and living on a cul-de-sac in suburbia makes for a comfortable life, I'm still sometimes uncomfortable waiving to neighbors as I grab the newspaper off my driveway. I can talk to them, but I'm never comfortable.

Maybe I don't want to give all of me away just quite yet. I've left a lot behind, most of it for the better, but I still hang on in certain ways. And if that means putting "Ride the Lightning" on in the car when I'm carting people around who would rather listen to Chris Daughtry or Keith Urban, which by the way helps me sleep at night, then so be it.

Big Day Tomorrow

Ted


This is the latest video of our dog, Ted, who we will bring home tomorrow. Get ready to rock.

There is only one thing left to say...

UPDATE
Well fuck you then, Nightmare Inc.

When it's 1:33am...

...things tend to get a little lonely around these parts. Being out in the middle of nowhere there is little to no activity. Some people might find some solace in it, but for someone who needs constant attention at times (har) it can be a little wearing.

I am getting used to the grind of my life though. Well, at least the pace. Although the break begining next Tuesday will do me some good. I'll practice writing by keeping up with this, making my fellow contributors produce and updating my shiny new sports blog. Also, my fellow writers for the Park Stylus and I will be busy (hopefully) getting us online this summer.

I'm also taking part in a little social experiment. So far, I've only been able to badger the night owls, but I'm testing to see how good of a Facebook friend I really am. I'm challenging myself to talk to as many people as I can that pop up under chat. I figure if you're going to be my friend, I should be able to talk to you.

This is what my nights have become. Normal people talk with their spouses, walk their dogs and try new recipes. Maybe it's not so odd, but having the same schedule as my wife would be nice.

Only about another year of this. Hopefully.

Editor's Note: The comment feature has been opened to support anonymous commenting to protect the livelyhood of some of my followers. You are welcome :)