the small journey of John Big John

Humble Pie. Do or Die.

2010-03-10T19:31:00Z

Lord make me more humble. Please....before I turn into a complete poop sniffer.

I am sure it is not just me, but every now and then I can find myself being a judgmental worm-licker. It is not that I mean to be, it's just that I sometimes drink my own Kool-Aid that poisons me with stupidity and arrogance. Today I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop trying to mind my own business when the winds of self-righteousness blew into the gapping hole between my ears. I was trying my best to not overhear everyone else's conversations...but everyone was talking so loudly....and what I heard made me irrattionally angry at the human race.

Thank God that my inner Jimmy Cricket does not take much crap from me. He is able to supply me with a metaphysical crowbar to the he-he--na-na's whenever I start feeling "above" anyone else. (yes, I know of the absurdity of idea of me feeling "above" anyone else since my chin comes up to people's navel fuzz)

Here is a collection of the passing thoughts I was having, which is followed by the response of my conscience:

(by the way my conscience spoke to me in a manner that sounded exactly like Joe Pecsi in Goodfella's)

John Asks: Why is it that people think everyone wants to hear them talk about politics all the time? Good God....don't you get tired of repeating the talking points from last nights MSNBC or Fox News Broadcasts?

Joe Pesci Conscience (JPC) Response: Mind your own business. Do you think that other people around you like to hear you go on and on about your theory on how you believe that Regis Philbin is not really a human? The point is just stop listening and let people say what they need to say without having a punk like you eavesdrop.

John Asks: Why is everyone around me seem so negative and unhappy all the time?

JPC Response: Isn't about time for YOU to stop worrying about the shit you can't control? How many hours a week to you waste trying to solve things outside your realm of control. So stressing over that stuff you filthy chump, and maybe just maybe you will be able to crack a sincere smile every now and again.

John Asks: Why is it important to "be right" all of the time?

JPC Response: Are you kidding me? You will argue anything (even if it is ultra-crazy...like the time you spent trying to convince people that you could withstand a shark attack with only a pair of flippers and a jar of gravy) for hours. You need to remember that just because you say the last word does not mean you were "right". And by the way you are usually wrong. And also, please don't try and fight a shark. You will lose. Sharks have teeth that can slice through bone...and while your high pitched shrieking might attract some dolphins I doubt they would intervene when they catch sight of you speedo you would probably be wearing.

John Asks: Why do the contestants on American Idol seem so lame this year?

JPC Response: You should watch less Television.

John Asks: Why is it that some people cannot get over things that happened to them years ago? People should be more forgiving.

JPC Response: Holy crud you are an idiot. You are the one that needs to let go of all the unresolved resentments and crap that pile up in you. I have a news flash your inability to forgive does not mean you are holding to your principles...it makes you a prick!

John Asks: Why is it that a lot of people can't love their fellow man as much as they claim they love their God?

JPC Response: Why don't you try being more compassionate yourself...maybe that will show em'. Sheesh.

John Asks: Why is it a generation of children are being diagnosed with autism and the only time we hear about it is in April or when Larry King books Jenny McCarthy as a guest?

JPC Response: Why don't you try being a better advocate yourself...maybe that will show em'. Sheesh.

John Asks: Doesn't it seem like people are less responsible these days?

JPC Response: The fact that you ask this question makes me want too vomit up a bucket of liquid outrage. Do you know where you wallet is right now? Or can you tell me how many times just this week you have frantically searched for your keys? Can you tell me how to operate the washing machine? Um...how many cell phones have you broken this year? The point is you of all people should never question how responsible people are. It would be like a vampire giving someone advice on solar panel repair. Dude.....

John Asks: How come I am the best looking guy in the room right now? I mean, I am more ripped than a denied credit card. I am like 50 % Aquaman and 50% 1993 Christian Slater.

JPC Response: Uh huh. When was the last time you could see your own feet?

John Asks: Everyone is complaining about something today! Why is it people are not grateful for anything they have?

JPC Response: Good question Hoss. When was the last time you thanked your lungs for working perfectly or you thanked the person who restocked the Lucky Charms at the store? You just expect those things to happen without any thought. You never give pause and appreciate the countless tiny miracles that slip past you everyday.

JPC Final Statement: The truth is John, the moment you stop complaining about other people is the moment you can learn how to love them. You give yourself a chance to be human and have weakness and shortcomings. (by the way you must be extra-human because you have a lot of weaknesses and shortcomings) Just give everyone the same chance to be human as you give yourself.

John Final Statement: I think you gave good advice Joe Pesci Conscience. Thank you. I needed that dose of humility.

JPC: You are welcome.

John: I wonder why people never pickup after themselves. I hate that.

JPC: You're a mindless nimrod. Sigh....

Dangerface Ninja

2010-03-10T19:22:00Z

So...this is what I did today:

Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait

2010-03-02T06:03:00Z

Here is a new favorite song for me this week. I am certain that I will listen to it enough in the next day or two that I will grow to hate it like it was sung by The Wiggles. However, for right now this is the tune (accompanied by the video that I cannot decide if it is perfect or creepy x 10) that is speaking to me today on the first day of March:

Open ye' mind up to new music!!!

Acts of Man
by Midlake

If all that grows starts to fade, starts to falter
Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait
Let all that run through the fields through the quiet,
Go on with their own, on with their own hidden ways

When all the newness of gold travels far from
Where it had once been born like the earth over years
And when the acts of man cause the ground to break open
Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait

Great are the sounds of all that live
And all that man can hold

If all that grows starts to fade, starts to falter
Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait

Great are the sounds of all that live
And all that man can hold

Great are the sounds of all that live

Getting blog entries in these days have been difficult. There have been many reasons for my lack of bloggy related typing. I am a little out of rhythm lately. I am feeling restless and unsettled. Which, to be honest is great. Most of my life lately has been spent feeling content....and when Johnny feels content he gets as much done as Congress. When my soul feels uncomfortable it seems to precede something productive happening in my life. Things have been to quiet lately. I am in great need of chaos. I am really glad that Ozymandian is getting back into action this next weekend. There is nothing better to feed my restless heart than a creative project....

Don't you hate it when everyday feels the exact same? We get up, we jump through the same hoops, shake the same hands, have the same 10 second conversations with people, and embed our heads on the pillow with the same hope that something will happen the next day to shake things up. There can be, something comforting with routine...but there is also something very scary about it as well. We get too comfortable with what we have and we don't take risks because we are content to sit on the sidelines and wait. I

God, I am happy you have seemed to stop granting me patience. I am ready for something new. I don't really care what it is...maybe it is a new sub to try and Jimmy Johns...or maybe it is time for my new tattoo. (yikes...probably not. I am against pain still)

I am waiting a new door to crack open this week. Oh, let me inside, let me inside, not to wait.

Memo from a third grader

2010-02-22T19:16:00Z

Last week my wife and I received a memo from our son, Noah, who is set to turn ten next month. I think this was a school project, but I am not for sure on that yet. In his communication with us he is letting us know a few things:

1) He has already surpassed my ability to formulate an argument and defend his position.

2) I should stop worrying about him so much....

3) The Hulk remains a big draw for children.

Here it is in it's original format:

Dear Mom and Dad,

I, Noah Roedel think I should be allowed to stay up 30 extra minutes on the weekend. I would like to stay up and watch X-Men, because it has the Hulk guest staring in it, and he is my favorite. Also, I would like to eat a slice of cake. By staying up, I would have plenty of time to eat the whole piece by myself. Then of course I will need to get all of that sugar off of my teeth. Staying up later would give me plenty of time to brush my teeth. Please think hard about letting me stay up 30 minutes later on the weekend.

Love,

Noah

It was hard to argue with that.....Noah FTW!

Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it!

2010-02-16T20:03:00Z

Here is a new sub topic for my blog. Every now and again I am introduced to a new song that connects with me on such a level that I truly believe that it was written just for me. Yes...apparently the world revolves around me. Some people need a morning run in order to clear their minds for the day. While I need to incorporate a morning run, (although my heart could explode like Planet Krypton if I tried more than a slow shuffle) I spend a good part of my early day listening to music. In order to have a good day I need a fantastic song that speaks to me...and if the song is new to me then it is even so much better!

Here is one of those songs. It is by a wonderful group call the The Avett Brothers.

The lyrics and the music just won a slap and pinch fight with my heart....

I dare you to listen and not be moved.

"Head Full Of Doubt / Road Full Of Promise"

There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what's wrong and what's right
And it comes in black and it comes in white
And I'm frightened by those that don't see it

When nothing is owed or deserved or expected
And your life doesn't change by the man that's elected
If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected
Decide what to be and go be it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I'll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There's a darkness upon you that's flooded in light
And in the fine print they tell you what's wrong and what's right
And it flies by day and it flies by night
And I'm frightened by those that don't see it

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I'll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There was a dream and one day I could see it
Like a bird in a cage I broke in and demanded that somebody free it
And there was a kid with a head full of doubt
So I'll scream til I die and the last of those bad thoughts are finally out

There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light
In the fine print they tell me what's wrong and what's right
There's a darkness upon me that's flooded in light
And I'm frightened by those that don't see it

John Roedel: Master of The Universe. Part 2 of 2.

2010-02-09T19:36:00Z

After reading through the part one of this blog entry I think I may have misrepresented myself a little bitty. I feel that it is important that I set the record straight and help rebuild my image after I may have presented myself in a poor light. In order to do that I have prepared a brief statement:

Hello friends/blog readers/IRS audit agents/potential employers/family members who no longer look me in the eye,

In my previous blog entry I believe that I may have mistakenly implied that any potential job interview with me would be infused with enough mega-weirdness that would even leave Paul Ruebens uncomfortably in his velvet chair. I apologize if that is how you interpreted my perspective in that manner. Nothing could be further from the truth. If you and I are destined to sit down together to discuss my potential service to you and your company I can promise you that it would feel like you are having a meaningful heart to heart with your very attractive best friend. Any job interview with me would be a life changing experience for you and your family! Please disregard any of the phrases that I said would be part of our vocational discussion. They are not representative of the delicate words I would craft just for you during our especially special time together. In fact here are the words that I imagine would spill from your mouth during the wanning moments of your interview with me:

"Can you believe how well this interview is going?"

"My Goodness! Your hands are very strong."

"I have never interviewed someone who is so much smarter than me."

"You and I are like a couple of Old Navy Buddies talking about years gone by. Lets cuss and drink scotch a bunch before I hire you!"

"Can you please show me your birthmark that looks like a terrible tattoo of Tony Danza again?"

"Thanks for the advice on how to save my marriage!"

"Holy Cow. I think we are going to have to give you twice the salary we advertised for. You are too powerful not to overpay.

"You are so amazing that I bet within twenty minutes of your time here you will make my job obsolete! Wow!"

"I want you to meet my children. You can then pick any of them to call your own."

"I love you. I mean I really, really, really, really, really, really love you. Really. Love. You."

"This must be what it is like when Bruce Lee interviewed for the title of "Global Bad-Ass".

"Mr. Roedel, please help me to shave your initials into my Yeti-ish back hair"

"This is the most emotional day of my life. Discovering your talent and then having the chance to hire you is like finding a lost unicorn, training it to dance, and then giving it to my clapping daughter at her four year old birthday party...John Roedel you are my dancing unicorn..."

"I will never let you go. I mean that. Get used to me hugging you. All the time."

As you can see I would make an ~~awesome~~ ~~magical~~ ~~trancedent~~   soul-awakening candidate to interview me for a potential job. While I am still waiting to hear back from Universe INC. about the managerial position I applied for, please feel free to call me so that we can set up our chit chat. I promise it will   ~~stain~~ leave a divine mark on your heart.

Thanks, and I look forward to you tanning in my incredible rays of giftedness and radiant superness during my upcoming job interview with you.

John K. Roedel (the K stands for Sexy!)

Whew! I feel much better now that is out of the way!

I am a little frustrated that I have not heard back from The Universe in regards to me taking over. I am sure that they will get in touch with me soon...but really I feel like a man of my qualifications and developed chin fat should not have to wait so patiently. Seriously if a little white plastic stick only needs 60 seconds to tell me the news of impending parenthood how can it take so long for me to hear that I am being considered for chief dog? So, while I wait I am forced to spend my time just spinning my wheels...doing nothing but drinking Starbucks, playing Xbox, and staring at myself in the mirror long enough to where I start to look like Star Jones.   During this time of job-limbo I have been spending some moments of my day trying to think about all the things I will do when I become in charge of the Universe.

In part one of this blog entry I listed all the things that I would do away with. I left off with my pledge to get rid of all Playgrounds. I think that perhaps I was overstating it a little. I don't think we need to get rid of every single playground...just the school playgrounds. Those places I would burn to the ground with my Master Of The Universe Laser Eye Vision. (MOTULEV for short)

Take that School Playground! John Roedel's all powerful eyeball lasers got you! Face!

School Playgrounds give me emotional heartburn. I hate them. Not because I had some terrible experience when I was a young Tom Selleck Crushin' lad. I had a great time on my school's playground...but most of that was at the expense of other kids.

You see when I was a little kid I was a major punk. My behavior back then could only be labeled as "Ass monkey-ish". I was your typical jerkfaced child who used to use verbally crowbar various other poop children in order to get a laugh out of the mob of children that used to gather to watch my sideshow act.   Here is a shocker: I was a lot smaller than the rest of the kiddos in my class so I had to find a way to keep out of the bullseye of the surprisingly edgy Catholic School bullies. If it had not been for my semi-quick wit and ability to make a joke out of thin air I would have been an easy target for the scum of the Playground. The best method of keeping my tushy wedgie free was to make the bullies laugh. And make them laugh I did....however that usually came at the expense of the other kids who were easy targets.

Instead of bonding with my fellow potential victims to rise up against the machinery of overly hormoned and mustache farming grade school bullies I decided to betray my own kind and send them to the emotional woodshed in order to save my own social status. In my playground you were either the picker or the picked on and I did not have the courage to ever be the latter of the two.

I was cruel.

I was mean.

I made fun of my fellow students for any weakness I could find.

I would do anything to keep the spotlight off of me.

Anyone but me....anyone but me. It was jungle law....

I was worse than the bullies I served. I did not punish people because I felt like I was honoring some bully code that was directing me to maintain the social hierarchy that is established. I emotionally bullied because I was a coward. Because I was afraid of being the one who was in the center of the circle of laughing children who were laughing at me for all the wrong reasons.

In order to stay on the right side of the laughter I would search for any reason to bring someone down.

If you had a bad hair day you can be assured of a newly penned song that I would write and then teach a dozen other children that would detail your unkempt mullet. This would keep people from noticing the fact that I had freakishly long and pointy sideburns that could be substituted as a jump rope.

God forbid if I ever noticed you wearing the same shirt twice in one week....I had the terrible ability to make your life hell just for that offense.

I could find comedy gold in anything you did that made you appear weak. Your weakness was the only camouflage I needed for my own.

I have no idea how many hearts I broke on that damned playground...or in the halls....or at the desks....

I know that it was too many.

I have no idea how many of my peers I sent home from school wondering what they did that was so wrong.....

I know that it was way too many.

I have no idea how many chances I missed to just do the simple thing of treating my fellow students like a human...

Countless....I am certain there were countless chances.

It was not until later in my life that I realized that I used my humor as a club rather than a violin. I beat the holy hell out of people to save my skin. What a creep I was. There is not a day that passes where I don't regret how petty I was back then.

Yes, I know that a lot of children are like that. It is said we don't know better. That in a lot of ways school is just a matter of survival as it is about education. I am sure that I am not the only skuz-bucket who was merciless to any other child who appeared different. I am sure that today that practice continues between the chain link fences of Schoolyard Playgrounds everywhere. The seemingly strong prey upon the seemingly weak is a dance that still cha-cha's on...

That is what scares me my atoms.

As a daddy to a child living with autism I fret about what goes on at my little guy's playground. I know how I was as a child....and I know that someone like my child would have been a very easy target for me. What would I have done? Would I have been kind? Would I have looked passed his differences? Would I have reached out my hand to him or would I use him as a sacrificial lamb? I am ashamed to admit that I am pretty sure I know what my answer is....and it makes me deeply sad. I don't really believe in Karma. I don't believe in "what goes around comes around". I don't believe in a scale balancing "reap what you sow" God who is bent on us getting our due on way or another. But...

But I don't want my angel to pay for the terrible things I did when I was his age. The irony of a guy like me raising a child with special needs is something that I recognize. I detail that here: Let Me Be The Moron

My sweet Noah has kicked the face in of every nasty challenge he has faced. His prognosis years ago was very dire and with the help of some amazing people, some amazing techniques, some amazing coincidences, and his amazing spirit we are witnessing a miracle. His story is a miracle in my life. Mr. Noah has jumped over more hurdles in his nine years than I have done in my thirty-six.   His autism does not define him...but in a lot of ways it defines me.

For all his incredible successes he is now staring face to face with what I find to be his scariest struggle...the social.

In the next few years the social games will start to get more and more intense. He is always going to be a little quirky, and unique (which is wonderful in a lot of ways....I wish I was more unique and not just a cliché') which is going to make him a large target for some kid who is like I was. My greatest fear was always that he would be the never ending victim of some "me-like" shitbag who is scared for their own skin.

Lately though, I have to admit that I am starting to understand that there is something far worse than being the one who is picked on.

Being forgotten all together is much much worse....

It does not escape my wife and I that he is not invited to birthday parties, or to sleepovers. While, we know that he is well-liked by his classmates I have a pretty good grasp of the fact that they keep him at arms length because he is a little different. As the years progress and the social demands increase I wonder where he will end up. I know that the social games will be as confusing to him as algebra was to me. It will seem alien to him....and he is going to have to plod his way into that great beyond. Of all the things that Autism is guilty of I think for me the worst thing it does is makes it very difficult for a person in the spectrum to connect with their fellow human.

When I speak to large groups of young people I ask them to be better than I was. I ask to realize the impact that their words have on others. I beg them to get over the social games and to instead open up their hearts to everyone. I do this in hopes that I can pay off the debt I have made on my soul.

I am desperate for my son's Playground experience to be different than mine was....so until I can be assured that it won't be I will, as Master of The Universe be melting every single one!

Goodbye germy slide hand-rails.

Adios groin damaging Teeter-totters!

Beat it swings of sure death!

Don't let the door hit your booty bubble on the way out Monkey Bars!

Hell...who am I kidding. Of course getting rid of playgrounds is not going to stop the chance that my son and other children like him will be fed to the social alligators. This is all about needing to be in control. I have to let go. To let him be hurt. To let him face dimwits like I was. Just because I was a yellow-belly back then does not mean he is. He is the definition of courage. He is joy incarnate. He is a force to be reckoned with. I need to let go of my overly protective shadow that I cast over him. Noah, like my other children will be the best version of me that the Earth will ever see.

How other people treat my children is beyond my control. I cannot control how other's will perceive and react to any of my little guys. The only thing I can control is what I teach them and how I hug them before releasing them into the wild. Perhaps that is why I applied for the job of Boss of The Universe. I want to control things too much....it is time for me to give that up. I don't want the job anymore. Maybe Jimmy John's is hiring?

I could make a heck of a hoagie...hells yeah I could.

John Roedel: Master Of The Universe. Part 1 of 2

2010-02-02T20:25:00Z

I turned in an application to become CEO of The Universe. I have not heard back from them yet. While I am not getting my hopes too high, I feel like I am a good candidate for at least getting an interview. The interview is where I shine like a crazy diamond. I can make up for all of my resume weaknesses when I get in the same room with whomever is grilling me. Not that I look much better in person than I do on paper...it's just that I can at least show off my underrated ability to end everyone of my answers with gems like:

"I probably should not have told you about that..."

"At the end of the day they could not really prove anything in court"

"I usually don't sweat this much"

"The good news is that the voices have not judged you as 'burnable'. Yet...."

"And that is why I don't believe we ever actually landed on the moon"

"It was not until that day did I know what the term 'trans gendered" meant!"

"I hope you are not recording this..."

"I believe that you and I are like soul mates or something"

"No...I usually don't swear during interviews. I just really really don't like wearing socks"

"Define felony for me?"

"So, while I may lack experience but what I do have is the ability to grow a uni-brow"

"Shut up for a sec. Is this place haunted? I feel a presence. Did you recently or not so recently lose someone close to you who has the letter 'E' somewhere in their name?

"Can we start over?"

Since I have not heard back from The Universe about my application to manage it I am being forced to perhaps look elsewhere. In the meantime I am left to wonder what amazing things I would do if I actually became the boss of everything. I would not make any radical changes really. It is not like I would create a new kind of animal or anything. I think most of my time would be spent keeping Regis Philbin alive and making sure that whomever was responsible for helping form the band "Chumawumba" was punished by having to actually listen to them.

As chief of all stuff I would spend my days actually getting rid of things. Here is a quick list of just a few things I would get rid of:

* Balloons.

No! Not those kind of Balloons...although these kind would probably be a good idea to do away with. The Colorado Prison system can only handle so many nutjobs. I am talking about your typical balloon that every child longs to have at their birthday party!

Balloons are nothing more than "Instant Child Heartbreak on a String". A relationship with a stupid balloon never ever never ends well. It is like buying a puppy for a kid that you know is going to be dead within a day.    Usually the inflated creep breaks free into the lower atmosphere on the way to the car leaving your sobbing child reaching out to it's new best friend that melts into the horizon. If by some rare chance the floating demon makes it home you can rest assured that it either:  A) Get lodged somewhere on your ceiling that nobody can get to without the use of the ladder that is buried in your garage. Cause a full on riot between your other children who want to "adopt" the new balloon from their sibling. C) It will scare the beejeebies out of you in the middle of the night when you see the hovering shadow it out of the corner of your eye and mistake it for a home invasion thus causing you to let out such a high pitched scream that your wife will cease to believe that your were actually born a man.

*Legos. If you have ever stepped barefoot onto a Lego in the middle of the night while fleeing a menacing balloon shadow knows the kind of pain that involves. I have it on good authority that the people who produce Lego's to the public intentionally make them their size so that they can embed themselves into the soft part of the foot with ease. For me, they might as well just box up some barbed wire and send that out to the kids to play with.

My foot just started bleeding when I looked at this picture. Lego-foot pain has been known to cause Jedi's to cry.

*Any bug that stings, bites, or crawls into my nose in order to lay a colony of eggs somewhere in my sinus. Yes, I know that removing one of these lower species from our eco-system might end up screwing everything up. However, as CEO of All I would look to replace these bottom feeders with other kinds of lower life forms....like the guy who started TMZ.

One of these is a creepy crawly bug who slithers in the dirt and the other is Harvey Levin, founder of TMZ. Can you tell which is which?

* The Phrase "Hells Yeah". Just typing it makes me angry. Hold on while I kick my dog.  I hate that phrase more than Lady Gaga must hate Old Navy. I heard a 40-something year old dude in a suit say "Hells Yeah" to the barista today in response to her asking if he wanted room for cream in his coffee. I immediately felt the urge to pour boiling water into my ears. I would rather hear the sound of my eardrums being poached than to hear HY. If I ever catch you saying "Hells Yeah" in front of me than you will become my enemy. In my mind you and I will fight, and I will win with a series of not-so-manly-yet-surprisingly-brutal-sissy-slaps. I don't care if you are my elderly mother, a charismatic blind banjo player named "Sweet Fingers Earl", or a girl scout who is offering me a tub of free Thin Mints! If you say it than will bring down the famous "Holy Wrath Of Roedel" down upon you. It will be such a display of passive aggressive behavior that you will need to check to make sure you weren't guest staring on The Real Housewives of Atlanta. If I become the Universe Manager you need to know that I will condemn you to an eternity of walking through Cheyenne's K-Mart if I catch you saying it. Hells Yeah I will.

Oh...shut up Pink Whale!

*Grape Nuts. What the hell is a Grape Nut?? Why would I want to eat something called a Grape Nut?? To be honest I ate a handful of these little critters a few years back and I did not taste grape anywhere. You cannot call something "grape" if it does not contain any grape flavoring...right? I would change the name of them to "Tasteless Crunchy Nuts That Are Somehow Lacking Of Anything Substantive". Which by way used to be my nickname in High School....

Um....shouldn't you be turning the milk purple or something? "There is as much Grape to you as Gravey." -Scrooge. (I think)

*John Edwards. ...You Farging Bastage! I don't really want to pile on this dude...but...really? Really?? You did that...really??? Mr. Edwards you realize that you are not a lead character on an MTV reality show, right? Do Johnny a skin and stay away from the media for a while. I can't hear about it anymore. Don't go on Oprah. Don't explain your side of the story on Larry King. Don't sell a book. Just be a human being for a while. You always spoke about "Two America's" when you were running for Prezzie, which I kind of found interesting. I realize now that you were talking about the difference between the one America that is typical and the other one where it is ok to cheat on your cancer stricken wife, get your mistress preggers, and then get a staffer to claim paternity of your new child. I am not one to judge but wow...you sir, are a serious creep-o. The only redeemable characteristic for you right now is your shiny bullet-proof hair that is seemingly a creation of Disney Engineering. Aside from that you are the kind of guy who needs to be kicked right in your Grape Nuts.

"Hellllloooo. I am John Edward's amazing hair. I don't care if you love me or if you fear me...but YOU WILL RESPECT ME!"

*Playgrounds. Which I think is the one thing as Master of The Universe (minus the metal thong and power of Greyskull) I would want to get rid of.

My heart has been stuck on playgrounds lately. As the daddy of a child living with Autism I am haunted by playgrounds....but perhaps I will save my thoughts on that for part 2 tomorrow....

Until then I better go and check my voicemail to see if I got asked to come in for my interview yet....

This blog entry is the S****

2010-01-25T23:14:00Z

Shit.

Yep, thats right I said it. I'll say it again for dramatic effect.

Shit.

I could have used a lot of substitute words instead of the dreaded "S" word...but I didn't. Here are some of those substitute words for that particular word:

Poopy
Caca
Manure
Smell Bomb
Crap
Fertilizer
Senior Feces
S***
Mt. WhatthehelldidIeat?
Kiester Torpedo
Lt. Funky Stankbottoms
Yuck Pie of Doom

Since there are so many other ways to write shit without having to actually use it, why would I chuck verbal gem against the wall of my blog?

What possible motivation would I have for using this cuss word that I learned from my middle aged, bee-hived babysitter when I was only seven?

UNRELATED TANGENT ALERT!!!! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

She exclaimed it out loud when some over-excited housewife made a horrible bid during the showcase showdown on "The Price Is Right". Perhaps she was memorized by the 1982 version of Bob Barker....I know my ~~warden~~ sitter was. The only thing I ever noticed was how his microphone looked like a toy. I once asked my ~~bitterly angry~~ sensitive babysitter about that fact...she responded with something that smacked of "Don't you ever talk about Bob like that you little *Kiester Torpedo*!!! He has more talent in his nostril than you have in your stupid little body!" While she was right, I don't think that I was ready to hear that cold truth while I was eating my Captain Crunch. I made a mental note to never bring up Bob's $ 4.00 microphone again...doing so seemed to cause a *Crap* storm. I think if I would have ever used BB's name in vain again my ~~crazed~~ unique babysitter would have had me spade or nuetered. (I still don't know which one is for dudes and which one is for the ladies) Maybe it is because of her that I never drank "The Barker Kool-Aide". How could a man that seemed to have the sexual charm of a nostril hair get more action than The Fonz? I could never reconcile that fact. For many he was the *Smell Bomb*. To me he was a chump that was promoting emotional infidelity among 40 year old women.

TANGENT OVER. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.

I have a very good reason for breaking my rule not to cuss in my blog....

A couple weeks ago I started to take some pretty serious online writing classes from a University that offers intensive teaching online. I went into the experience with an expectation that I would be honored above all others. I went into it think my *Senior Feces* did not stink. Well, it turns out that my *poop* does in fact stink. It stinks bad. It stinks like monkey dander soup. After submitting a few new writing samples to my instructor (who has published a number of short fiction and non-fiction books) we had a conversation that went like this.

Her: Hey John, you have a sec to talk about your writing?

John: You bet.
(Yes....tell me how incredible I am. I will even be willing to offer you some advice. The student has already become the teacher.

Her: Ok. You want the good news first?

Awesome John: Sure...
(It should be noted that at this point I am slightly annoyed because whenever someone asks "You want the good news first?" is simply code for "I want to butter your throat up before I rip it open with my *criticism claws) (* Note: Criticism Claws has been trademarked by me. Don't use it. Ever. It is mine. If you use it I will hire a goon to find you and scare the *Lt. Funky Stankbottoms* out of you.)

Her: You are kind of funny.

John: Ok...
(Kind of??? Kind of??? That is like saying that Burger King kind of tastes like *Manure*

Her: And there is some raw writing talent in what you have submitted. I mean really raw.

John: Ok....
(hmmmm..Maybe she has me confused with someone else...).

Her: Really raw. Really, really raw...John Roedel of Wyoming...really raw...)

John: I got it....
(There is an off chance that she is using the word "raw" instead of the word "transcending" by mistake..)

Her: I am talking RAW. Like seriously raw. Like-

John: Point taken!
(yaaaaaaaaaarrrr!!!)

Her: So thats the good news.

John: Ok...
(Thats the good news??? Holy *Smell Bomb* that means that the bad news is going to really really hurt....and it did)

Her: The bad news is aside from your lack of basic understanding of grammar and punctuation...

John:Right
(what the heck is grammar and punctuation? I don't, understandy the words; coming out of you're: mouth!)

Her: Your writing is too safe.

John: Safe?
(safe? I am not safe! I am a fat ball of danger! I am a wild boar that is running through the jungle. safe?? That is crazy!)

Her: Yep. So safe in fact that it comes across kind of false.

John: Yikes.
(*Fertilizer!!!!*)

*Fertilizer* is right! She was correct. I am way too safe. Not just in my writing, but in everything I do. I try desperately not to offend anyone or cause discord. I take hardly any risks so that I don't have to take the crowbar of failure to the face. I mean for the love of Pat Robertsons blackened, cold, and Vulcan heart I am living my life (both on the page and in person) like I am planning on running for office. By the way I will never ever run for office. I am going to run FROM office. The only elected seat I could ever imagine running for would be County Coroner.

TANGENT ALERT!!!!! BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Why the world do we vote for County Coroner? I mean really. Why?? That should be a career that you are appointed to. People like me (by me I mean: Uncoordinated, hairy, and annoying dudes that don't know what the difference between "spayed" and "Neutered" is.) should not be part of the decision making process for who gets to play Quincy all day. That kind of decision should be made by people who have their *Yuck Pies of Doom* together. I have no idea what makes someone a better candidate for county coroner that someone else! Maybe one of the people looks better in a white lab coat? Do they wear white lab coats? I don't even know!! So why the *Caca* am I being put in that position??? Why not have me vote for who should be the chief brain surgeon, or for county Vasectomy Specialist?? Why not ask me to punch the chad for who our next Jail Warden will be. I think in order for me to be even semi-ok with voting for the next County Coroner I need to watch them compete against each other in some sort of event. Maybe like in an American Idol like format or something. Where maybe one week they have to each do an autopsy on live TV while singing some song from the 60's. See...I should have no business making these kind of decisions.

TANGENT IS OVER. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.

It should also be said that I can never run for office because photo's like this exist:

The thing that bothers me the most is that I made it a resolution a few years ago to take more risks. To stop being safe, shy, and silent all the time. That resolution held about as well as my resolution I made this year to stop making jokes at *inappropriate times about the paternity of my children. (sorry wifey)

* It turns out there is never really an appropriate time to make jokes in social situations about whether or not you are the real father of your children. Especially not in the following places:

- Your In-Laws House during Thanksgiving Dinner.
- The delivery room during the birth of your first son.
- During the baptism reception right after the priest gave a blessing.
- In front of your mother. Ever.
- In the middle of a tense parent teacher conference that you felt needed a little humor
- The Delivery room during the birth of your second son.
- To an Applebee's waitress that is having a very very *poopy* day.
- On a blog that is open for the world to read.
- The delivery room during the birth of your third son.

So I am going to make it a point to take more risks when it comes to living and writing. I am not going to go crazy with that. There is going to be a fine line between playing it safe and showing up in the blotters for trying to steal a police horse.

If you are like me that somedays you feel as if you are letting life pass you by because you sometimes play it too safe then I encourage you to join me in living on the edge a bit more.

Lets come together and make the word "Safe" the newest four-letter word.

Unless of course you think that I am just full of *Mt. WhatthehelldidIeat?*

A man called AXE - The reason why I have not gotten my tattoo.

2010-01-15T00:09:00Z

My character has understandably come into question. I made a pledge and I have broken it. I broke it good....

Last July I made a promise that I would get a tattoo by October 15th.  I made that announcement boldly without a doubt that I would fulfill the task. I decided to get the tat for several reasons...that have absolutely nothing to do with me having a mid-life crisis...

Well, October came and went and much to nobody's surprise I did not get the ink. This of course was predicted by all my friends who did not believe me when I proclaimed my desire to get it done. Apparently they know more about me than I do, which kind of makes me sad. While my tattoo dream is not over I am starting to lose hope that I have what it takes to do the deed.

Whats holding me back?

About a week before my deadline I started to get cold feet. I began to visualize what it was going to be like to face the chair and the needle...and I balked. My imagination got a hold of what the event was going to be like...and it kind of looked like this:

I walk into a musky little parlor that smells vaguely of turpentine and kitty vomit.  The room only lit by a single low hanging lamp that hangs right above a torn leather chair that looks like something from Sweeney Todd.  The aura around this chair is so menacing that I remark to myself that the only thing it is missing is some leather arms straps and a metal helmet that sends fatal electricity into the poor schlob that sits down in it.

In my mind the tattoo chair that would await me was reminiscent of Ole' Spark from "The Green Mile".

I have only had a moment to catch my breath when I feel the icy touch of death on my shoulder.  I look down and I see a hand that is marked in both a matted coat of knuckle hair and an image of a skull that was branded into the skin.   At this point I have set my bowel control level to "optional".  With my face going from flush to pale in .7 seconds I turn around and meet the man behind the hand.

It is the owner of this place...and the man who will be in charge of "inking" me. The dude is taller than Hagrid and dressed in more leather than Cat Girl. My eyes bounce between the web tattoo on his neck and the toothpick that he swishing around his mouth.   He has a thick mound of jet black hair that is slicked back in such a way that it would even cause the Fonz to let out a "Whoa!" if he encountered it. I don't make eye contact with him because his eyes are a combination of oil and "I eat children".

This is the first time that I begin to think that getting a tattoo is a bad idea. With his hand on my shoulder still I decide to break the tension building between us...

ME: Hello sir.

AXE: (in a vthat must have just got done gargling graveloice ) Call me Axe.

ME: Axe?

AXE: So you want a tat?

ME: I think so. It doesn't hurt much does it?

AXE: Well it doesn't hurt as much as getting your knee busted in by your ex-wife's new junkie boyfriend if that is what you mean.

ME: Okay...thats....good. I just have a fear of needles.

AXE: And I have a fear of not being able to control my murderous rage when I am face to face with flowery whiners who smell like woman's hairspray.

ME: I happen to like the smell of Aqua-net! What do you use to keep your hair so slick and shiny?

AXE: Sissy blood.

ME: Oh....

AXE: So what kind of bad-ass tattoo does a half-ling like you want to get?

ME: I am not sure. Do you have a catalog?

AXE: If you want a catalog go to Gymboree!

ME: What?   Well...do you have any examples of your work?

AXE: If you want an example of the work I am capable of I suggest you dig up my old roommate Jimmy. If you do tell him I said "Face!".

ME: Ok....uh...

AXE: Do you want me to tell you what tattoo I think you should get?

ME: Yeah! That sounds like a good way to get the creative juices flowing! For away my good man! My body is your canvas!

AXE: Stop talking. Your voice makes me want to stab you in the ear hole.

ME: Right. Sorry...so what do you suggest for me?

AXE: ****Omitted for profanity. Rest assured it was extremely graphic and the image he suggested was a combination of his apparent hatred of Canadians and a pagan mating ritual between otters****

ME: Holy crap...

AXE: Intense huh?

ME: Is that even legal to have something like that on my body?

AXE: Not in the eyes of man or God, but it is legal in the eyes of THE AXE!

ME: I was thinking I just wanted a mysterious saying or phrase that would be a good conversation starter.

AXE: Hmmm. How about "Death by murder" or "Cops Suck".

ME: No....not that....maybe I don't want a statement. How about a Chinese symbol?

AXE: I only do American Tattoo's! I call them Freedom Ink!

ME: Sure...ok...lets see...

AXE: I got a good idea for your tat!

ME: Really? Alright, cool...what are you thinking?

AXE: I am thinking you better choose something right now before my vicodin wears off. Trust me when I tell you that you do not want to see me without vicodin in my system. The voices will come back and I am sure none of them will like you.

ME: Ok...I am still thinking...

AXE: Choose Meat-bag! Hurry!

ME: Just a sec...

AXE: Now! Pick something! Do it!

ME: Uh...

AXE: Choose your ink or die Bilbo Baggins!

ME: I don't know!!!

AXE: Don't make me hurt you!!! Choose!!

ME: Ahhhhhhh...

AXE: How about a picture of a football?

ME: A football....?

AXE: Yeah a nice football.

ME Yeah....a nice football...

AXE: Good. Now when I scream "Go time!" I want you to bite down on this leather strap. Hard.

ME: Should you be drinking whiskey while taking pain pills AND holding a hot needle gun.

AXE: This is not just a needle gun! He is my little brother and I call him "Mr. Scream".

ME: Oh...no...wait I think that maybe I need to think more ab-

AXE: GO TIME!!!!!

The last thing I remember is AXE placing his tree trunk sized knee on my chest to keep me from squirming. He starts to place the needle on my forearm and I let out an unnaturally loud girlish squeal. As I pass out I tale not of the fact that his breath smells like Taco Bell.....

And this is the reason why I have not gotten any ink yet. As soon as I am convinced my experience will not be anything like this I will get one.

Earthquake in the sun.

2010-01-14T04:54:00Z

"The Earth stopped shaking over a day ago but my shaking will never stop" - A Haitian Woman who lost her entire family who was being interviewed on The BBC.

It is hard to say anything that does not sound cliché' on the day after the ground swallowed up at least 100,000 impoverished Haitians. What can we say that is of any use? I don't know...as much as I love words and filling up any empty silence with my blather I am finding it impossible to have anything to say....

Maybe this entry is meant more for me than anyone else. Perhaps this is going to be therapeutic for me....but somehow I doubt it.

Years ago I remember sitting on my coach eating popcorn watching Katrina remind me how fragile our lives are. I remember very clearly watching people being rescued from their vanishing rooftops like it was some big budget movie. As I stuffed my chowder-gob with Orville's finest I remember having the gall to think "I wonder if anything else is on TV". I am not sure if my desire to change channels was because I could no longer handle the graphic imagery, or if it was I wanted to watch some baseball or something. I really hope my reason was the former of the two...

I am trying my best to not treat this event like some sort of make-em-up. But I still find myself sitting on the same stupid coach (neglecting some very large written homework assignment) watching Anderson Cooper host a game called "Let's see how much worse it can get for the poorest people on the planet". In a moment of heart wrenching Deja Vu I grabbed the remote when I saw a photo flash across the screen that was particularly haunting. The delicious Lime Sherbet in my tummy could not handle this movie any more....

This time I gutted through my own need to feel safe and listened to stories told by the Haitians who survived the hell of January 12th. I heard them bravely weep through their accounts of having to choose which of their children they would try and save....I watched them wander through the pitch black streets aimlessly....I saw them gather to pray by the thousands because as one very old man put it "Haiti is dying".

Now I know that some people will think that dwelling on things like this do no good. People die every day. Earthquakes and other natural disasters happen all over the world. That instead of sitting on a blog and whining about how I feel I should put my mission where my mouth is and get on a plane to the devastated island. I can't. I am a coward. The only thing I can do is try and find some words that can make any kind of sense of this....

Again...I can't.

The only thing I can say is that I don't think this is fair. How can a people who already have so little be forced to deal with a situation like this? I don't think it's fair that the people of Haiti are being asked to go from having nothing to having absolutely nothing. I don't think it is fair that my biggest worry yesterday was that I was worried about the new bumping sound in my van's engine while those people had to worry about their shack turning into their coffin. I don't think it is fair that next week when some celebrity sleeps with someone, or if Peyton Manning throws four TD's, or if Joe Biden and Dick Cheney exchange barbs on "Meet The Press" our attention will shift. We will no longer want to hear about it anymore. I know that I won't. I will have felt morally cleansed by my 10 dollar charity text. I will no longer want to hear about a generation of Haitians that are dead. Once this moves off of the front page of the news I will move on.

That sucks for me. Because there is probably a rich lesson in what is happening that I am missing out on because it is too hard to watch. There has to be...right? There has to be something that can be gained by all of this....right? There is no way something like this happens without some greater good hidden inside it...right?

I don't know.

That is why words are not easy tonight.

If there was anytime in my life that I was able to pray and be completely selfless then I hope it is tonight.....

Lord hear my prayer......

20 to the 10

2010-01-12T04:53:00Z

Hello 2010! Nice to see you. Welcome to the party. Thanks for stopping by and saying "Howdy". If you don't mind can you please put down the drink and get the hell out now? Yep...I am pretty good at first impressions and I would like you to stop eating my wife's cheese dip and make your way toward the door. Whats that you say? You're no different from your brother 2009 and your sister 2008 (both of which I was friends with). Thats nice. I believe you...I think you are exactly the same and that is the problem sir. Don't give me that look. I have given you enough chances to prove that you may be offering me something a little more than your siblings did. It's fair to say that you have not....so...before this gets any more awkward you are welcome to take the walk of shame out of my home. No...it's not ok if you take the beer you brought. Once it's in my frig it becomes my property.  And no...nobody will give you a ride back home. Jerk....

2010 is less then two weeks old and I am already tired of it. Maybe it's the 87 year old grouchy woman inside me named "Irma" but I have little patience for wasting my time with punks like 2010. Irma and I agree that 2010 is no better than 2009....and that fact haunts me like a fast food taco that spent the last seven days warming under the red glow of MC'Heat before it met my ever-weakening colon.

What has happened that has caused me to feel this way? How can I already pass judgment on a year that has only begun to scratch it's mark on the tree? Well are some of the things that are leading me to believe that this trip around the sun is crappier than Caddyshack 2. (BTW: Caddyshack is truly horrible. It was make by someone who must hate making people laugh. Chevy Chase and Dan Akroyd should be forced to watch that during their "Soul Scrubbing" that must take place in the white rooms of purgatory. Caddyshack 2 did to the classic movie Caddyshack what The Swine Flu did to Pigs everywhere)

Here is what is already ticking me off about 2010:

Avatar. When I look at you...you make me feel blue.

Pretty movie to look at. Story that is at best has been done to death by movies far better than it. Big things blow up which is cool. But...I am already sick and tired of hearing about it. The hype machine behind this movie is starting to make me hate the color blue. Seriously, if you are a smurf that is living in a forest near my house and you need some help because Azrael the cat is hunting you down I will not provide you shelter because of this movie. I will be happy to watch you and Jokey Smurf get turned into Kitty-Chow only because I have grown tired of people who think this should be considered the best movie of the year. It's not. Not even close. I don't think it's a horrible...like stupid face melting "Jennifer's Body" was. However it is not elite. It is a good looking movie that tried to have something to say but ultimately fails. Kind of like me....    Oh and before you start telling me it's good because it has made a lot of money and it is setting records the only thing I can say is it should be making a lot of money because it costs the move goer around $19, 000.34 to see it!

Next....

Grocery Store Check Out Games.

I am tired of the folks at the grocery store check out line who decide to burn their eyes through my soul. You know they are the people that only have one less item than you but they expect you to let them pass. I used to be a sucker for that game. I would spend an extra hour making sure I was the check out martyr who would made sure that their would be justice for all those behind me who just came in to buy eggs. The problem was I think people started taking advantage of me. They soon could tell that I had soft eyes and I would easily bend when they would emit a low sigh when me and my four items where checking out ahead of their two. Yes..I even let people pass me when I only had four items. That is sick. I have decided to fight back and now no matter what (unless someone is having a baby and just wanted to run in to Safeway to buy some Wheat Thins for the road) I will never let anyone pass. Yesterday I stood my ground against a huffy dude in a suit who was just buying ice. I saw him eye my twelve items with outrage as I began my scripted chit chat with the checkout mama. He felt entitled to move ahead...and old softy John-Boy who have taken into account his near frozen hands and the fact that he looked important and let him jump ahead of me like the Alpha-Dog he was bred to become. In this case I didn't. I held my ground like a Rambo did against that Russian Fighter in Rocky IV. He was not pleased. But I was. I was not a check out store doormat for once in my life.

Of course I sobbed all the drive home from the store as a river of guilt rushed over me. So today I went back to my old ways and started to let anyone and everyone ahead of me. Irma was not very happy. Not very happy at all precious.

Next...

My "Dishwasher"

My appliance is the suckiest suck suck that ever sucked. It is not so much a dishwasher as it is a "Dish Smudger". It just takes the filth from one plate and magically transports it to another. If one plate in the washer has a cream sauce hangover than all the plates in the washer have one when the mocking "All Done" light comes on. If I wanted to drink out of a dirty glass that is caked with something greenish than I would go back in time to college to when I did not care what exactly I pushed into my system. I am amazed at how a glass on a different level as a plate can become infected with it's unique brand of yuck. The teleportation of all the grime in there is amazing and disgusting all at the same time. It is the appliance version of "The Fly".

This is what my dishwasher does to my dishes. Gina Davis would not even look at them either.

Next....

Jay Leno

If I hear your name again in the next 48 hours I am going to vomit up some sort of dark sludge that has been forming in my belly since I heard you replaced Carson. Not that I don't think you are talented. You are. You just are not my cup of delight. Irma loves you...which should maybe tell you something! And now that I am hearing that you are pushing my man Conan around the schedule bar on my DVR well I am about to have a "Man-trum". Leave my Red-Headed Sugar Daddy alone! Find another network that does not care about losing it's viewers with crazy programming. Like MTV....

Next....

Underwear Bomber

That has to be the worst name ever for a villain. What kind of street cred can you have with that title? If I had to spend sometime in The Shawshank Prison I would want a tough name like "The Iron Fist of Danger" or "Lion-Slayer" or "He-who-shall-not-be-named". Heck I would even take the name "Doily Sweet-Tuckis" than the "Underwear Bomber". That is not going to go well for you and I am sorry. I am sorry that you hate me so much that you had to pack explosives down near funky town.   There had to have been a moment where you had a chance to stop yourself and ask "Do I really want to light my Cha-Cha-Hey-Nanny a blaze?" I wish you would have made a better choice. Because now every time I go on a plane I am going to be looking for someone with hot underwear. Wait...that sounds really bad. See what you have turned me into???

Next....

Geico Commercials

I just have one thing to say to you:

PICK ONE AD CAMPAIGN AND JUST GO WITH IT!!!!



I confused. Are you represented by Cavemen or by Lizards? Or are you represented by piles of money with freaky eyes tape to the tops of their heads? They are all disturbing in their own freakish way to be sure.  Why do you have to have all three? Can't you just have one? What kind of universe have you created for yourself in this ad's? I will tell you that Irma and I believe you have created a sick and perverse one that allows lizards to have a better job than me, Cavemen to rise again and attend swankier parties than I go to, and that money stalks some people...but never me. I want you to have some sort of cage match between the three and then let that decide who your only spokescreature is. It will be like Thunderdome. Three unnatural freaky things enter...one leaves! I can tell you if you ever ad a fourth character to your ad's I am going to perhaps have to be medicated because if you can't tell this really bothers me more than it should.

You already did??

Super-Crap. Not only to did you manage to add someone else to your ever-growing pool of weirdo's but you also managed to make fun of people with speech impediments.

Next....

Mike "The Situation" From The Soul Staining TV Show "Jersey Shore"

Sigh....

I don't watch the show..but I did see an interview with him. I think there is a 43 % chance he is the Anti-Christ. I am sure he is nice....but he should follow the advice I gave "The Undi-Bomber" about nicknames.

Next...

People who are never ever ever wrong....even when they are.

I will not throw stones here. More times than I would like to admit I am one of these folks who cannot admit it when I am the CEO of SCREWUP INC. I cling to "having to be right" at all costs approach at times. However I have adopted a new phrase when it seems like I am in conflict with the world over a particular issue. My new phrase is "Is this my fault?" Often times it is me.  I think we need to allow our selves to be wrong. There is a certain amount of freedom in not having all the answers. It kind of means we have not figured everything out yet. There is also something to be said about allowing someone to be smarter than us. Unless they have a nickname like "The Situation".

Sean Hannity, Keith Olbermann, and people of your kind. I am talking to you here. Please listen.

You can all take a big drink of shut up juice.

These are all things that have been causing me to stay awake and question everything since the clock turned the 09 into a 10 eleven days ago. I know these seem like pretty trivial things to concern myself with. I was just hoping to have some transcendental experience that would allow me to live above these minor irritants. I wonder if I am being too hard on 2010. I mean 2010 is the year that put The Balloon Boy's dad in jail for a few days. Good Lord...he better come up with a better nickname! I smell a "New Fish" shiv party coming his way...

Irma and I better hit the hay if we are going to be up early enough to catch The Price Is Right and pine over the days of Bob Barker....don't worry I will call 2010 and make up with him.

The wait is over.

2010-01-04T20:20:00Z

I am back!!!

I am sorry that I have not blogged in so long. More heart-stopping blogs are headed your way in the next few days. Over the past few months I have gotten a few death threats because I have not writed anything. For those prone to violence please accept my apology. You can watch the following video and feel like justice has been served:

Things are happening at a pace in my life that is beyond my comfort level. I am starting new adventures and pouring myself into projects that will hopefully someday make a difference in people's lives. I have fallen into new a new chapter in my life and I am going to kick more ass than Chuck Norris at an Elderly Home for Blind Villians.

My three year period of standing still has ended and I am writing a new chapter. I will provide more details when I am not having a serious craving for a bagel that is overloaded with cream cheese. Mmmm....cream cheese. I think that someday when my body passes and my spirit enters the great beyond I will not be shocked to find that the rivers of heaven flow (slowly) with cream cheese.

My waiting for my life to get going again has ended....which is good and bad. I will kind of miss the not doing anything at all thing routine I had crafted for myself. But....I will kind of like having an idea where my boat is headed.

Today I am grateful that I waited to figure things out instead of just jumping in to something that would leave me pining for something else. I am also pretty dang thankful I had a wife who waited for me without questioning why the heck she married me....

Has anyone ever thought about making a candle that smelled like toasted bagel? Hmm.....

More blogs are coming your way. I promise. Thank you for waiting for and with me over the past few years.

WAIT - ALEXI MURDOCH

Feel I'm on the verge of some greath thruth
Were I'm finally in my place
But I'm thumbling still for proof
And it's cluttering my space
Casting shadows on my face
I know I have a strength to move ahead
I can hardly leave my room
So I'll sit perfecty still
And I'll listen for a tune
When the mind is on the moon

And if I stumble
And if I stall
And if I slit now
And if I should fall
And if I cant be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

Cause everywhere I seem to be
I am only passing through
I dream these days about the sea
Always wake up feeling blue
Wishing I could dream of you

So if I stumble
And if I fall
And if I slit now
And loose it all
And if I can't be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

And wait for me
And wait for me
And wait for me
Won't you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won't you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me

Top Ten Fall TV part two

2009-12-09T22:47:00Z

5 Amazing Race
4 The Office
3 Mad Men
2 Survivor
1 Curb

Ok...for the three of you who are waiting with hushed breath for me to unveil the top 5 falls shows here we go:

#5 The Amazing Race

Reality Television earns some of the crap it gets. It can be snarky, explotive, dirty, and demonstrate only the worst of human nature....this of course can turn a lot of people off from the genre. The Amazing Race gets knocked off of people's radar because it is considered (because there is no other place to put it) as a "reality show". But "The Real World" or "Big Brother" this is not! It is an intense race around the world where teams of two compete to try and win a cool million by coming in first. Week by week we get to watch ordinary people (not wanna-be actors who have agents or models) put themselves through the emotional ringer as they race through international obstacles. There are teams that are easy to pull for and teams that are easy to hope crash and burn which gives the viewer a good chance to become invested in the outcome. There is a reason why this show wins Emmy after Emmy! It is a joy to watch!

#4 The Office

While I think I could get into a fist fight with people over my belief that the UK's version of The Office was better than ours, I am a faithfull viewer every Thursday night! Just when I start thinking that I am growing tired of Michael Scott and the rest of Dunder-Mifflin crew I get pulled back in through painful awkwardness or by the heartstrings! And for those who watched Pam and Jim's wedding there can be no arguement on the fact that hour was one of the best primetime had to offer this fall.

#3 Curb Your Enthusiasm

Painful. Beautiful. Horrible. Funny. Larry David. For those who watch you know what I mean. For those of you who don't watch you must find time...and a proper therapist to talk about it afterward. It's pretty...pretty...pretty...pretty good. This season with the Seinfeld cast will go down as the best!

#2 Mad Men

Who would have ever thought that a story about Ad Exec's in the 50-60's would become cannot miss tv? Everytime I watch it I feel like I am viewing a play. Each word of dialoge drips from the actors mouths with such care that as a writer I can only appreciate with my jaw slack open. Very rarely am I left feeling good about humaity after watching an episode...but I am at the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next!!

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#1 Survivor

Remember every horrible thing I said about reality TV earlier? Well....Survivor is the king of the format! After years of being on the air it has been striving to reclaim it's glory after a ground breaking first season!! With the help of a gent named Russell it has bloomed again! This has been the best season by far because of Russel's ability to manipulate his fellow cast members as well as befuddle the producers! He has been on the brink of elimination time and time again only to find a way to wiggle his way out...and even for those who would rather see a cobra fight a goat than watch this show this season would make a believer out of them!

MAD MEN- Episode 8 Sneak Peek - Watch more Funny Videos

Top Ten Fall TV Part One

2009-11-30T19:54:00Z

Here is the moment everyone in the universe has been waiting for. I am making the announcement that has had everyone holding their collected breath in anticipation. Uh..no...I did not get a job. And...no...I haven't gotten my promised tattoo yet.

What I am yammering about is this:

THE JOHN ROEDEL TOP TEN FALL TV SHOWS!

With the fall season coming to an end in the next few weeks it is time to take a look back and give mention to the top ten shows that demanded my attention. While I watch a lot more than these elite ten shows, these are the ones who don't last long on my DVR. Before I unveil these ten programs let me get the negative stuff out of the way first. Let's take a quick look at the few shows whose stock have fallen in my eyes that pushed them out of consideration. Many of these shows were probably in my top ten in years gone by. These programs used to be beloved by me and have not fallen in to the category where I will watch them when I get a chance...

SHOWS WHO HAVE FALLEN:

HEREOS - Yawn. What used to be a fun hour of comic book nostalgia has turned into a mess. There is no consistency in the characters. They are built to love one week and then hate the next. You never know what their motivation is because it changes quicker than the Wyoming wind. One week someone is evil and then the next they are the hero who the producers want you to sympathize with. They need to get back to a smaller cast and less "Back to the Future 3" stupidity, While this season has been a bit better than the last few they rolled out, it is still a far cry from the 1st season. You make me sad Heroes...you had such promise. I have three of you saved on my DVR. I am tempted to erase.

30 ROCK - Blasphemy? Maybe. It still is funny and well written. But whenever I watch it lately I am left unsatisfied. This might be more my problem than anything else. I can only take so much creepy sexual tension between Alec Baldwin and Tina Fey. I still watch it...but it is not in my top ten anymore. We've grown apart...

V - I was sure you would have been in my top ten. You're not. Sorry. The pilot was clunky and filled with way too much story in just one hour. I have been getting caught up slowly but it has felt like a chore. The teenage rebel kid in the show makes me want to send my children to boarding school when they turn 12.

All Ghost Hunting Shows - These type of programs used to be a staple in my television diet. Not so much any more. Not because I have given up my dream of becoming the shortest and most terrified paranormal investigator the world has ever seen. My back is turning to these shows because they have become really boring. The only thing that really changes from week to week is the location. They never really find anything except goosebumps, a bump here and there, or piece of dust floating by their night vision camera that they are convinced is a demon. As soon as any of these shows gives me some sort of evidence that is even semi-compelling I may get interested again.

Dancing With The Stars - Tom Delay? Come on, really? Really? Tom? Delay? Really? Sigh.

Flash Forward - I like it, I really do. I am just finding it hard to get super invested in it when I am worried that it is going to be canceled any moment. I have my heart broken too many times on shows like this. While it started out a little too slow (kind of like V) it has picked up every week. I am really interested in where it is going....I am just not sure it is going to be around long enough to show me.

So those are the shows a few months ago that I was certain would have been included in the top ten. Since they have failed to make the cut that means there are a few programs that are going to be there that I would never have thought about including. You will find this list so complete that you will not be able to argue against it. So get ready to hurt your neck from nodding in agreement....

THE ROEDEL TOP TEN FALL SHOWS:

10. Modern Family -

Love it. Got to have more of it! It has filled the void that Arrested Development left me with after it's painful cancellation years ago. Modern Family is smart, funny, character driven, surprisingly sweet, and ultimately a tribute to the 2009 American family.

Watch this clip and become a fan!

#9 Top Chef

I can't cook...not even a little bit. That little Roedel factoid does not however prevent me from being able to enjoy this intense BRAVO! network show about a collection of chefs who compete to make the culinary big time. Aside from the drama that comes as an obvious by-product to a show that puts these cooks in near impossible situations it is amazing to see the creativity that each of the contestants has to tap in to each week. Regardless of how full I am from dinner whenever I watch Top Chef I am left hungry and wanting to try new foods that I would normally be nervous about. I would never imagine that this would have ever been a show that I would remotely enjoy....bon appetit!

This clip from this season's Top Chef is one that featured Natalie Portman as a guest judge!

#8 Fringe

A guilty pleasure of mine is really terrible Sci-fi movies and TV shows. The kind where the story is ultra convoluted and the dialog is embarrassingly simple. Fringe, while being kind of Sci-fi-ey does not qualify as being terrible. It is great! I am sure you have heard the comparison's to X-Files to Fringe. Yes there are some basic similarities on the surface but once you get to the inner core of what Fringe is about it is easy to figure out that there is a lot of differences. As an avid X-Files watcher I was often left cold because I never felt like it was heading anywhere. Was Mulder's sister abducted by aliens? What was the deal with Scully's baby? How the heck did The Smoking Man know all the things he knew? Those were some of the 1903 questions that I never go answered. Certainly Fringe poses some of it's own questions but the remarkable thing is they answer them fairly quickly. I recognize that this is not a show for everyone. Not everyone wants to watch show that deals with the paranormal, inter dimensional worm holes, and a creepy lurking Lenord Nimoy. But...if you want a show that is rich in character development, tension, a couple scary moments, and strange mysteries that get solved more often than not than I suggest you give Fringe a try!

Here is a quick clip.

#7 Glee

At first glance this should be an hour of television that should want me to drink a razor blade milkshake. It has singing teenagers, bright colors, dancing, angst, and a good seasoning of High School Musical so I would have thought this kind of show would be my kryptonite. It turns out that this is the perfect show to counter all of the other usually darker themed programs that are on my play list. While some episodes are better than others I contend that there are not many shows out there who know who they are or who their audience is better than this one. The musical selection is brilliant, the characters are endearing, and I love how it has the ability to laugh at itself. While at first I was sure this was going to be a cheese-fest I have been happy to see twinges of dark humor and story lines that have kept me coming back for more! Like Pushing Daisies a few years ago this is a show that creatively is ahead of it's time. This is the kind of TV that has left a cynic like me singing along on my couch! And if Jane Lynch does not get an Emmy for her work as the ever grouchy gym teacher than there is no justice! She has been brilliant!

Time for some feel good TV? I thought so.

Glee - Don't Stop Believe
Uploaded by Bugabookas. - Check out other Film & TV videos.

#6 The Family Guy

If there was ever a show that is going to land me on the burning coals of judgment in my afterlife it is this one. I am sad that this show has worked it's way up the list. It is mean and unflinching in it's assault on anything and anyone. It is a very very very very guilty pleasure of mine. I know that this will get me off of some folk's Christmas Card list...but I can't help it. Family Guy is funny funny funny and every week it leaves me feeling conflicted at how much I laughed at it. The writing of each episode is done with extreme care and at the same time a serious sense of malice toward humanity.

Here is one of the tamer clips I could find that would not forever ruin my relationships with people I know who hate hate hate The Family Guy.

Part Two will be out tomorrow! I will reveal the top five shows that have captivated me all fall!! Isn't that going to be exciting? I know....it is very exciting....

Still - A memo from the autistic

2009-11-19T00:01:00Z

Every now and again I meet someone who reminds me of my old self. Someone who gets really uncomfortable around my autistic child

Today I saw someone I have not seen in years. I introduced them to my guy. When they noticed that he was different I saw their entire expression change. I saw their brain stamping my little guy with a tag that reads “out of order”. Once I explained what my son’s diagnosis was they looked at Noah who was playing nearby and said “I don’t know what to say, except I’m sorry for you.” They gave me a quick pity hug and moved along.

Am I angry at their reaction. No. Because that is how I would have been. I used to be afraid of people who were different. I am ashamed to admit that I used to think of people with handicaps as people who needing fixing.

Yep. I was a ultra once in a generation kind of super jackass.

Now I know better. Because I have seen first hand children who have been labeled as disabled do things that can only be described as miraculous. I have been a witness to my own child defy the expectations that the world has laid out for him. I know that despite what some people think of children with autism there is STILL A BRIGHT LIGHT SHINING WITHIN.

So on behalf of my son. I decided to channel his consciousness and come up with what he would say to someone who felt like he was something less than perfect. I think this is what he would say.

From Noah. To the world. You are on notice. I am still here.

I am not broken. I am not ruined. Please don’t look at me like I am. Just because I am autistic it does not mean I can’t recognize someone who has given up on me before they even know me. Keep your false praise secured safely somewhere behind your social filter. I am not contagious. I will not bite you and give you the “Autism Flu”. Yes, there is times when I need help. Who doesn’t? For those of you who help me find my footing…thank you. For those of you who think I am less than you, then please kindly get the holy hell out of my way. I am just like you.

I have a definite purpose. Just like you do…

I have imagination. Just like you do….

I have dreams. Just like you do…

I have a soul. Just like you do…

I have weaknesses . Just like you…

I need people to fulfill my potential. Just like you do…..

I feel sad when people refuse to understand me. Just like you do…..

I have the ability to make this world a better place. Just like you do….

I have a life story that deserves to be written. Just like you do….

I deserve a chance to figure out who the heck I am. Just like you do….

　

If you get to know me then I promise you will find something amazing. You will find a person is totally engulfed in the moment. I don’t worry about three days from now. I worry about right now. I am here while other people are borrowing trouble from the future. Once you spend time with me you will realize that I am a reminder that we are meant to celebrate the present. To drink in each moment and to not be afraid to be intoxicated by it. If you take the chance and look past my label of autism you will find a boy who loves unconditionally.

I know that there will be people who will never understand me. These are the people who will avoid me because I scare them. They will put me in a nice little box and write me off for a while. Someday though, they will figure it out. It will dawn on them that under my quirks, and my seemingly odd behaviors, and difference is a treasure trove of talent that the world has never seen. I am the kind of light that cannot be eclipsed for long. It is only a matter of time until they figure out that they have to give everyone a chance.

Just like I do…..

So I have autism. So what? I am still alive. My body is not a captain-less ship. There is someone at the helm…there is still a light on inside me! I am still a note that will be played. I am still searching for answers. I am still in side this body that acts differently than yours!

I am still in here!!!!!!

　

　

　

STILL - GREAT LAKE SWIMMERS

I'm still turning myself on to the great key, I'm still, I'm still
I'm still mining for light in dark wells, I'm still, I'm still
I'm still a frequency swaying, a leaf in the wind, I'm still, I'm still
I'm still searching for whispers in between yells, I'm still, I'm still

I'm still swimming in harmony, I'm still dreaming of flight
I'm still lost in the waves, night after night

I'm still an arrow unshot, fixed in a bow, I'm still, I'm still
I'm still a fire unlit, ready to go, I'm still, I'm still

I'm still loaded and waiting, with anticipation to fly
I'm still studying the patterns in the night sky

I'm still a note that's unplayed, ink on a page, I'm still, I'm still
I'm still a cry in the night, lonesome and high, I'm still, I'm still

I'm still tuned to an instrument of greater and unknown design
I'm still looking for direction, some kind of sign

I'm still tuning myself to the great key, I'm still, I'm still

Tiny Dancer....

2009-10-19T04:50:00Z

Have you ever wondered what a drunk overweight pre-teen Yeti would look like if they were having some sort of seizure?

If your answer to that seemingly strange question is "No" then you may be excused from the rest of the blog. I am sure TMZ has something for you about some celebrity who shockingly does not want their picture taken while they are running to the store to pick up a timely bottle of Pepto Bismol.

If your answer is "Yes" then first of all let me suggest that you probably seek some sort of professional mental health help. If that does not cure your itch to see some strange convulsions by a misshapen creature who is both physically and emotionally unbalanced, than I have a way for you to satisfy that urge:

Watch me dance.

There are eggs that have more rhythm than I do. It's true. I tested that tonight. I tried to post the video of it, but the egg refused to sign the release.

This weekend for our Ozymandian Theater Halloween Comedy Show I was required to bust a move. What I busted was a hamstring, my inseam, and very possibly the legacy of Michael Jackson. A few months ago we, the fine folks of Ozy thought it would be a good idea to recreate the "Thriller" dance. With the help of a local dance studio, a very patient teacher, and some awesome other trained dances we performed it yesterday. Let me clarify a bit. While the rest of the group might have actually performed it...I kinda of just stomped around and shock my body as if I was trying to put out an invisible fire on my money maker.

I probably have not conveyed in enough detail that I cannot dance. Not one little bit. As I laid in bed the night before our show I was really worried. I had survived the practices without having my heart giving me it's final pink slip...but I knew I sucked. I could not remember the steps in the two and a half minute routine. And the steps I could remember I was having a very difficult time with. The mind was willing...but the body was unable to comply. While dancing there is an interesting conversation that takes place between my brain and my arms and legs. It looks like this:

Mind: Here we go.....Turn head to the right and shake your hips.

Body: Zzzz...wah? What the %@! is going on here?

Mind: Missed it. Thats ok. We will get the next one.

Body: Who are you?

Mind: Shimmy left, Shimmy right, left leg kick behind you, now right leg kick out, with one hand on your hip and your other one acting natural.

Body: Got it.

Mind: Why aren't you doing it?

Body: Oh, we are doing this? You should have said something-

Mind: Dang...missed that one too. Here we go..now zombie hands to the right and march five beats to your right.

Body: Here we go! Oh..

Mind: What are you doing? We are missing it!

Body: I think I have a rock in my shoe...

Mind: Leave it. Come on dude!

Body: Wait..thats not a rock. It's bacon. I wonder how that got-

Mind: Never mind! We have to get this next one.

Body: Ok. The body is ready to go.

Mind: Arms above your head and shake your torso back and forth quickly.

Body: What is a torso?

Mind: I hate you...

Body: Torso is a funny word if you think about it.

Mind: Sway your right arm back and forth right now!

Body: That I can do. How is this?

Mind: Well.....not very good.

Body: What are you talking about?

Mind: Well..your arm sway looks like you trying to shake a bat off of your forearm. It is a little too frantic!

Body: Gotcha. Let me change that. Better?

Mind: No. I can't believe it...but it is actually worse. And what is with that look on your face?

Body: That is my "5'3 Latin Lover Dance Gaze"  It shows how intense I am about my motions.

Mind: Please stop looking like that. It either looks like you have irritable bowel syndrome, or that you are having a severe stroke.

Body: Oh my goodness!! Something is happening to me!! I am feeling funny...my forehead is leaking!!!

Mind: That is sweat.

Body: Oh! So that's sweat. Sweat is a funny word is you think about it.

Mind:  Shut up! Here is the big finish! Forward leap to the left twice on beats 1 and 5? And then I will talk you through the final zombie march, alright?

Body: Zzzzzz....

Mind: John? Wake up!  We have to do the move! Everyone is looking at us? Now!!! Now!!! Please Now!!!

Body:  Zzzz...wah? What the %@! is going on here? Why is my forehead leaking?

Mind: I don't deserve this.

As you can tell the lines of communication between my head and body are not always up. So getting my brain to send out exact commands to my various limbs is a tricky proposal for a guy like me. I had more doubts than a chicken having picnic with one of The Colonel's Great-Grandchildren. I knew my dancing was going to be really really really bad. The only thing that I was confident about was that I was going to be making a very large arse of myself. The problem was the dance was moving too fast for me and I could not keep up with it.

As I laid in my bed fretting the dance that was going to happen the next day, something amazing happened to me. I kind of had a vision.

In fact I am pretty sure that the night before our show I was visited by the ghost of Choreography Past.

The Ghost of Choreography past grabbed me by my canckles and took me back in time to watch my first brush with dancing. Suddenly I was floating above myself in 1990 at a High School dance. I saw my 16 year old self with my whitewashed jeans, fluffy white button up shirt that looked suspiciously like one of my mothers, and overly produced feathered hair walking out on the dance floor to impress the ladies. As my metaphysical self watched my younger self get ready to set the gym floor ablaze with moves that are only allowed at disco's in Hell I saw the look on my face. upon my kisser was an expression of confidence and belief in myself. A few moments later when "Bust A Move" by the genius Tone Loc began to play I lept out on the floor.

My 1990 dancing was a train wreck. My small frame kicked around aimlessly as if it was being controlled by a stoned puppeteer. My body was always a full beat behind the music. There was a moment where I even witnessed myself attempt "The Worm" in the middle of the floor. This is a dance move that when executed by someone who knows what they are doing looks beautiful and fun. When I did it the move looked like someone who enjoys violently throwing his body onto the floor. I am pretty sure that most dance moves don't require you to repeatedly crack your skull on the free throw line....

I asked the Ghost of Choreography Past "Why was I being forced to watch how terrible of a dancer I am??"

The Ghost then pointed to my now sweaty and bruised younger self who was now taking a break. 1990 John was smiling. How could that be???? How could someone who was dancing to his own beat have any fun?? Wasn't I worried about looking like I was performing some sort of Alien Mating Dance? Nope...there was no worry. Just the look of a guy who could care less about what everyone else thought.

With that recognition I was swept back to my bed.

The next night I performed Thriller. And I sucked. I went left when I should have gone right. I kicked my legs out when I should have been crouching. The dance was way too fast for my Frankenstein Motor Skills to keep up with. I was making a complete and utter fool of myself....and I loved every second of it. I danced. I failed. I laughed. I won.

It was a moment of awkward movements, stunted dance steps, and complete joy for me.

When did I start caring so much about what other people think about me? I would like to go back to the day that I decided living like that was a good idea. I would like to tell my overly self-conscious self that my lot in life is to dance to my own beat and I just need to get the heck over it. The music of life will always be too fast for me to keep up with. I am unlimited in the amount of ways I will make a fool out of myself.   I will always be a beat or two off...and that is just the way I am built.  Embrace it. Then after my speech I would force my old self to do The Roedel Version of "The Worm" until they lost their memory of my visit back in time to talk to me.

If there is any lesson I can teach my kids in the time I have left to play Daddy it is to walk unafraid. To not buy into the "Fit-In" tonic that we are all forced to drink. That is beyond important to be the unique person they were created to be. To find value in having their own rhythm that they grove to....and to believe in who you are even when your feet go left when the routine calls for them to go right. And when the beat of life is going to quickly and ever thing feels like it is moving to fast to close your eyes and remember that it was too fast for your dad too. It took 35 years for me to learn the lesson that maybe one of the mysteries of life is to try and love every second of it....

Everything Is Moving So Fast
By The Great Lake Swimmers

What sort of pressure and what kind of force
must there have been to drive you here?
Was it uplifting or was it deformed?
Faulting and rifting, you folded.

What does it feel like to fall
in slow motion despite it all?
There's no time to think it through
when we're connected over the blue.

Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.
Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.

What sort of wisdom and what kind of thought
must here have been to scatter you?
So far and random, your heavenly bodies
still see the faint light in your eyes.

What does it feel like to fall
in slow motion despite it all?
There's no time to think it through
when we're connected over the blue.

Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.
Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.
Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.
Everything is moving so fast.
I am unlimited.

Older Now

2009-10-14T06:56:00Z

It is too late for blogging. I need to go to sleep because in a few hours my children will be jumping on my face wondering to their mother "Why does dad look more dead than usual?"

I can't sleep.

My mind won't let me. Everytime I close my eyes I have a parade of random thoughts that march through my mental city square. Each time it appears that Mr. Sandman is showing up to club me with his crowbar of sleep I have a new thought float past that captures my attention.

Some of those thoughts are:

Why can't I grow sideburns?

I wish that I would be able to remember the names of people I meet.

Do Elk dream?

If so what is it they dream about?

I hope not me.

That would be weird.

But it would explain why everytime I see one they seem to look at me like "You!!!!!"

Fraggle Rock was a show that both excited and terrified me.

I was a big fan of The Doozers.

However, the thought of a world of muppets living under my floorboards was something that continues to bother me.

I am not sure why that freaks me out so much.

Muppets are nice.

Unless they are drunk.

I wish I could play an instrument.

Any kind really.

I think I could be really good at the triangle.

Is that considered an instrument?

I hope so.

I think I could rock it.

There are way too many movies that star Jude Law.

There are not enough movies that star Christopher Walken.

I think the people at Starbucks think I am homeless.

I should shower before I go there tomorrow.

And wear some sort of elegant cologne.

Which might not be a good idea.

They might think that I am being romantic.

When really all I want is coffee.

Coffee with caramel.

Mmmmmmm.

I should go to sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Now.

I said now.

Hmmmm.

I wonder what The A-Team would do about Osama Bin Laden?

They could probably find him in about four hours.

I saw Mr. T once at an airport.

He looked sad.

He probably thought I did too.

These are the kind of things that keep my brain from shutting down when it is time to doze off. Tonight my other problem is my poor body. It is sore. Sore. Sore. Sore. This Ozymandian Show week is a little rough on me. As much as I look it I am not really that physically active these days. Our show on the 17th is forcing me to break my "No Sweat" rule.

So I am sitting here tired and sore. And...I am feeling older than I have in a while.

I am 35.

That is hard to type.

3
5

Yikes.

My age is getting harder to ignore.

I can't fake it anymore.

Every day that passes I am becoming more and more Roedel-lized.

I am becoming fixed in who I am. Kind of a late bloomer I know.

I am not depressed to be getting older. I just am a little confused.

Will I be the same person at 40?

I hope so.

I like being this way.

I have grown to love not being who I thought I was going to be 15 years ago.

I have learned a lot about life.

Here is what I have learned in my three and a half decades:

1) To let the bad stuff go. Don't hang on to the crap-o-la. Let it go man, let it go.

2) To find something you love to do and will it to be part of your life.

3) Cherish what you have without yearning for something else.

4) To love the fact that I am not nearly as smart as I think I am...and perhaps the more I learn the less I know.

5) There is nothing better than a dinner table with friends, a warm meal, and a couple bottles of wine.

6) Except for maybe bedtime stories with my little boys.

7) Marrying up was the best move I have ever made.

8) That having to "be right" all the time ruins relationships.

9) That the universe is a very big place and I am very small. Very. Very. Small.

10) The longer I can put off becoming a typical grown up the better.

11) I will never ever like Beets. No matter how they are prepared.

As I get older my list of things I will learn will hopefully grow a bit.

My wish list for the next few years:

I hope I learn to become a bit softer with how I treat people.

I hope that I will find the things in me that I admire in so many other folks.

I hope that I will learn to grill without overcooking the product.

That my fear of the outdoors will be replaced by a healthy dislike.

I hope that my Jennifer will continue to renew my lease.

That I will embrace each day with joy and not just another 24 hours closer to my end.

I am older now than I ever considered I would be.

I kind of like it.

If you are feeling older. Listen to this song. It will speak to you.

Goodnight.