Wednesday, May 09, 2018

We good as wood should could, Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers

A Kansas man was arrested for trying, repeat, trying to have sex with the tailpipe of a car. He was having sex with the tailpipe, but then it backfired on him.

On “Inside the NBA,” Charles Barkley and Shaquille O’Neal got into a heated exchange. Have not seen Charles this mad since Shaq took the last Taco on Taco Tuesday. 

Against the Reds, the New York Mets batted out-of-order. That's like a proctologist trying to give a patient a colonoscopy in their ear.

After years of bitter animosity, a monumental breakthrough has occurred in world wide diplomacy. And besides the end of the Taylor Swift-Katy Perry feud, the North Koreans are releasing three US hostages.

And Then Alexander Wept

Since you asked:

Growing up with an older brother, John, who, in hindsight, had moderate to severe Aspergers syndrome, I had a big hole in my heart where a big brother should have been.

So, like a lot of kids, I filled that role with super big brothers: Daniel Boone, Superman, Batman and eventually sports stars and rock stars. 

So it was with a strange admiration I looked up to the quasi bullies of suburban Chicago who were older. (As played by my younger neighbor, Adam Baldwin in “My Bodyguard") 

The thugs who strutted around in their Army jackets and denim shirts and jeans with jack boots. Also think Judd Nelson’s John Bender in “Breakfast Club.”  

Their thuggery was limited to knocking books out of underclassmen’s hands, maybe stuffing a kid in a locker now and then. They smoked behind the gym, stole bicycles, shoplifted crap from stores and snuck into the movie theater without paying. Sure, there was the occasional pulled fire alarm or vandalism, but it was mostly mild stuff.

Almost quaint youthful hijinks compared to what happens now. 

What surprised me was my admiration of their cockiness. They had swagger. They scared us and they knew it. That must feel absolutely amazing, I thought as a skinny 7th grader with giant braces on my buck-teeth. No lie, I greatly admired these ruffian 8th graders and tough-guy high schooler hoodlums. 

Later I would realize being a bully was just a front to disguise their cowardice, insecurity and unhappiness. (And in two examples, their sexual identity confusion) Most were products of absent fathers, either through divorce or alcohol. Or both.   

One day in the weight room the summer before my Junior year in high school, I had the highest combination of five lifting tests on the football team. 

There were guys who were bigger than me who could bench or squat more, but I had the best all-around score. I was officially The all-around strongest guy on the football team.

(I was a lover, not a brawler, just an aggressive football player. While I never got in a fight outside of sports, nobody on the team wanted to face me in one-on-one blocking drills) 

And the football players were the biggest and toughest people in high school. By far. That made me, on paper, one of, if not the toughest boy in a high school of 4,000 souls. Far beyond what I had dreamed about when I envied the 8th grade and high school thugs. 

And it was a terrible and lonely feeling.

I’m the toughest guy in our high school? Are you kidding? Just a few years ago, I was still sleeping with my stuffed dog Morgy. (Whom I still have, by the way) I cannot be the toughest guy in the high school. There has to be something wrong. 

And then, when he saw there were no more worlds to conquer, Alexander wept. 

Once again, I am being hacked by Russians. Here are my blog's pageviews by country the other day. 

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