Shootin' the Shit...

I think the year was 1991. I had just carried my second wife out of the house over my shoulder, to her new home with her daughter, DONE! Brad, my 19 year old son had finally moved in with me a few months before and it was New year's Eve. As a tradition, we took my 25 caliber Beretta out to the yard and looked for a target to shoot at, to bring in the new year. As a conscientious citizen of Phoenix, we NEVER shot into the air, but rather a focal point somewhere into the twin Palm trees that grew in the corner of our yard. Primarily into the ground, with the Palm trees behind our target. 

Jenny, was our Wire Haired Terrier, who came to us from my step-daughter Boom Boom. Boom Boom was now the hostess to her mother, but refused to accept her dog when the split up took place. Jenny, the dog, was quite a character. Once she jumped through her bedroom window, while it was closed, to get to the postman who was violating her territory, by delivering the mail. Cha ching! On another occasion, as I pulled up to the house, there stood Jenny on my roof, just barking her head off. How in the world did she accomplish that? I researched the situation and realized that she had jumped up on a pile of firewood. From there, she hopped up onto the shed. From there, she did a tight rope walk across a 2X4 that lined the gate of our yard and then up onto the roof! All of this took place a good 15 years before YouTube! Back to my story about New Year's Eve;

Brad and I went outside to look for a safe place to shoot off our gun, an AZ tradition. I said, do you see that dog turd laying right in front of the palm trees? He nodded his recognition. It had a little squiggle right on the top of it, just like you get from the Dairy Queen... We aimed and fired and took turns shooting. Pretty anticlimactic, right? A few minutes later, we went back into the house to watch NYE and Dick Clark when my phone rang. It was my father calling from Florida to wish us a Happy New Year and he asked what we were doing? I looked at Brad and answered into the phone, "Brad and me? We just stood around shooting the shit"!

Happy New Year, 2013!

Crap, I Did it Again!

Remember my story about a woman that lied to me about her name? Well, I thought I had found out her secret of withholding her name from me because she had a prison record according to my inquiry at the department of corrections. She very well might have been that person, but due to her name being such a common one, I felt it rash to come to that conclusion based solely on that Internet information. Somehow she wiggled her way back into my life and I met her today.

On Christmas day, while dog sitting, Macy went to sleep, indicating that I was indeed a boring partner for the day. Her nap was somewhat extended and when this woman texted me, I was more than happy to answer due to nothing on TV but Christmas movies and let's face it, by the time you reach 66, you've seen all the Christmas movies to last a lifetime, for a man of Jewish descent. At some point the woman stopped texting and called me. We chatted on the phone for quite some time and then after hanging up because she was going to a friend's house for Christmas dinner, she called me back to tell me she was driving. This alleged criminal and I were somewhat bonding.

She texted me again yesterday and asked if we were ever going to meet? I said, sure. How about lunch today at my favorite Chinese restaurant. Playing hard to get, she said, okay, but a late lunch! I was dangerously low on Karsha's Rye Bread, so that fit into my schedule anyway. We had agreed to meet at 1:30 and as I was leaving Karsha's, I looked at my watch and saw it was only 1:05, so I texted her that I was running early and expected to be at the restaurant in about 5 minutes and if possible, can she meet me a bit early. She called me and replied, she's always early!

During one of our conversations, I asked what kind of vehicle she drove and she told me it was an 05 Chevy Z-71. I asked if it had a bed and a tailgate? She asked, what's a tailgate? Does it have a bed, I asked again and she said no? Z-71 is just the suspension package, not the model. I asked if it were a Suburban or a Tahoe? She said, neither, it's a Z-71. I asked how many rows of seats did it have inside of it? She said 3. I concluded it was a Suburban. In addition, she said she had it parked next to a Tahoe once and the backs were perfectly even and in the front, hers was about a foot and a half longer than the Tahoe, confirming my belief that she had a Suburban.

I waited in the restaurant parking lot for about 5 minutes and sure enough, in she pulled in her Tahoe. She stepped out of her vehicle and I opened the back door to see just 2 rows of seating, confirming my decision, but said nothing. (note to self: She lied about how many rows of seats) She was wearing large sun glasses and the first thing I noticed was her compromised height. I said, you're shorter than 5' 2". She replied that she was 5' 2" with heels! Damn it, another midget!

We walked into the restaurant and I couldn't wait until she took off those stupid sun glasses, so I could see what I had gotten myself into this time. The eyes are the windows to the soul, right? I heard an imaginary drum roll as I watched her hand come up to her glasses and things started moving in slow motion for me. By this time we had been seated and I think my anticipation was visible. OH GAWD! They were off! She was 80 years old!!! Her little hand was wrinkled and age spotted. That was my first clue. Her sun glassless face now was the face of one of Arizona's senior citizens. She looked like she had had a face lift a long time ago and it was disintegrating, falling off. It looked artificial. There were deep set wrinkles next to her eyes that had been there for years and her face was liver spotted. She was supposed to be 60 and I had thought how nice it was that she didn't lie and claim to be 59, like so many. Now I know why she had lied about her name! Because a Google search might reveal her true age. She even ate old!

Well, today was my last day on the dating service. My membership has expired and not a minute too soon. I'll not be doing that again any time soon............. I hope!

All I Got for Christmas was a Pimple!

With the exception of one, somehow I've spent the last 5 Christmas' with LJ. Beginning in 07, when we went to my son's home with a huge stuffed bird that talked, for my grandson Max, to this past holiday where LJ, Macy the dog and myself spent a quiet Christmas stuffing delicious lasagna into our starving faces and watching a pecan pie in the corners of our eyes, praying there would be room for it.. Our prayers came true!

Due to the economics of the year, we agreed not to exchange presents, I know I have enough ties to last me the rest of my life. To my surprise, LJ broke our agreement and in a stocking that said Mel on it, LJ had stuffed it with gifts. Jules took off for a while, driving to her daughter's house to present gifts to her grandchildren, while Macy slept and I played on the computer and telephone, but all the while eyeing my stocking stuffed with presents. You know that feeling when someone gets you a present and you didn't get anything for them? That "cheap" feeling? Oh well...

When she arrived home, she announced it was time to open presents. Macy went crazy as usual and LJ threw my stocking onto my lap for me to open my gifts. I made all the right noises. You shouldn't have, gee for me??? In the bottom of the stocking there was a cylindrical package that I had no idea what it was. LJ prompted me to open it first. I did. As I ripped off the paper, there stood a can of Aqua-Net Hair Spray. At first I was confused, but almost immediately my mind went reeling back to my high school days and it was the 3 minutes between classes when the halls lined with lockers were opened and every girl in our school was standing there, looking into her personal mirror and respraying he ratted hair in a circular motion, so her Bubble hair style would not go limp for another hour. The boys walked through coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces to try desperately to breathe through the fog of lacquer.

The truth be told, I use hair spray to hold the few hairs that I have left in place. Because LJ and I have lived together and there was a time, a long time ago, that she would attempt to run her fingers through my hair, she knows about it and used to shop for hair spray for me. Naturally, this private joke brought on quite a laugh when I realized the meaning of my gift

I used a little hair spray today. Thank God it was the unscented!

Ego Assault

I spent Sunday, Christmas Eve, Eve with the Lovely Jules watching the Bears embarrass the Cardinals and eating pizza, a rare treat for me. (The pizza that is). Macy ( the pup) was her usual goofy self and tried her best to entertain me while LJ went shopping for an hour or so... When she returned, she loaded me up with Christmas cookies and I set out to drive home. While walking to her parking lot, I received a text message that Passport to Hike had emailed me from Match.com. It not being anything urgent, I waited until returning home before I actually read the email. To my surprise, it was from a 40 year old lady asking me if I were unattached and if so, would I mind contacting her for a possible relationship. Forty is 26 years younger than me and the same age as my youngest son. Unfortunately, she was a short rather plump woman that I wouldn't consider even if she were attractive, due to her age. Frankly, I find a forty year old looking for a man 26 years her senior somewhat defective. For your reading pleasure, I'll attach her email and my reply here:

You:

I am sitting here w my mother trying to convince her that this whole online dating thing isn't so bad. We both were rolling w your profile: if you're still single and interested in meeting a really cute fun woman who isn't into NASCAR and won't make you flamenco in the bathroom, let me know!

RE: You

Thanks for the nice email, always nice to provide family fun! However you're the same age as my youngest son and his older brother is too old for you according to your preferred criteria. Based on that, I'll have to thank you and no thanks.

Dutch

Her reply to me sent me wheeling into reality and realizing how full of myself I can get if not monitored. I sent the next few hours reading and watching a little TV when suddenly I received notice of yet another email from Passport to Hike. It said:

RE:

It wasn't for me: I was talking about my mother! Who is not yet a member!

Did you ever blow up a balloon and let it go and watch it deflate and blow around backwards? That's how I felt!

Drama in North Scottsdale

Yesterday was sort of a crazy day. It started with a horrible traffic accident that I witnessed. Actually, it occurred right in front of me, while standing in line at Fry's Pharmacy, waiting for my prescriptions. An elderly woman, driving a scooter, tried to back up out of the area that the pharmacist gives private counseling. She backed up right into a display of Ex lax sending boxes of of potential shit everywhere. Then she over corrected when trying to turn around and hit a stand of reading glasses and sending it over on it's side. The pharmacist jumped over the counter to the mad driver's rescue and fell pathetically on his ass. It truly looked like a war zone in Fry's! The little old lady thanked and apologized publicly to everyone and as she passed me and I was laughing hysterically, she said as she winked. "Yes, I'll be driving my car in a moment, stay clear"!

Leaving Fry's, I climbed into my car and drove to Costco, but knowing that Scottsdale Costco would be far too crowded to shop, I drove into Phoenix to use that location. Entering the parking lot, it was a zoo! Every spot was taken and as far as I could see. I pulled into the handicapped area, where I could use my placard and possibly save a long walk, when 2 or 3 parking spots simultaneously opened up. Right in front of me, as I stood still with with my turn signal on waiting for the car pulling out to exit, a Mercedes pulled right into the spot. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was still in good shape, because another spot opened up across from it. Then I noticed a van waiting for that spot too. I motioned with my hand and asked if she wanted that spot or could I have it? The van misunderstood my gesture and thanked me for being so gallant and pulled into the open spot! I felt like a penny waiting for change! That's when I realized, that if the parking lot was like this, did I really want to go into the store? I drove home, empty handed!

A few months ago, I was corresponding with a woman and eventually she gave me her phone number. While writing, she would sign off as "Caro". (Just now, spell-check notified me it was not a word or a name and suggested Carol) In my next email, I reminded her that Caro is not a name, but a syrup! She gave me an LOL! I then asked if her name was Carol and she again verified that her name was Caro. Moving forward, she gave me her private email address and we spoke on the phone for 2 days in a row for 2 hours each time and I heard her life story. Caro sold Real Estate and her office was at 32nd St and Camelback. We had made arrangements to have lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant, very near there one day. The day of our lunch, she cancelled and asked if we could just have tea at 5 PM? With no explanation as to why she couldn't make lunch, I thought it kind of odd, because she was the one that had pushed it. I Googled her email address and found that she was indeed a Realtor, but it said her real name was Carol A.Jones (not her real last name) not Caro. I texted her to confirm the tea date (I'm really not a tea guy, unknown to her I was going to order Coke) and couldn't resist telling her that I knew her name was Carol A. Jones. She replied that her middle initial is an "E", not "A", and I never heard back from her again. 

Yesterday, I was thinking about it and a light bulb lit over my head! I decided to check her name with the department of corrections (jail, the joint, the slammer). Sure as hell, there was a record for Carol A. Jones at her address! I wasn't about to pay $8.95 to find out what she had done, but there is always a reason when someone doesn't want you to know their real name! She did mention that both of her former husbands were deceased, hmm....... I wonder! 

Oh Crap!

I don't smoke, I don't drink and I find myself dealing with reality on a daily basis. This has not always been the case. I started smoking when I was too young, about 10 and drinking came right along, when I one day went down to our family basement, the day after my parents had a party and drank from the half filled glasses of cocktails. I liked the feeling that it caused, kind of a euphoria. I was about 13 or 14 at that time. I gave up smoking when I was about 42 in 1988. In 2005, I decided to eliminate alcohol from my life on an operating table, in a hospital, when I learned that it had had an effect on my heart. Next month, it will be 8 years since I've even tasted alcohol. I found alcohol to be an asset when I couldn't sleep and since, when that occurs, doctors have given me a variety of drugs to interact. First it was something like Seconal, that caused an immediate addiction, so I took myself off of it as quickly as I started. This was prescribed by a nurse practitioner that worked in one of my doctor's offices. More recently I was prescribed Ambien that is not addictive, so I take it once in a while when needed. I pay particular attention to how often I use it and it turns out to be about once every 8 or 9 days and only 5 MG.

It is that Ambien that is the topic of this evenings writing.I usually fall asleep shortly after laying my head down and that is usually after reading for an hour to 90 minutes. Then, I awaken about 3 hours later and feel like it should be morning, but it's still quite dark. That's when I pop the pill. Rather than lay in bed awaiting the miracle of sleep, I get up and look at the computer for a time. The Ambien takes about 15 minutes to kick in. That's when the euphoric feeling takes over me, that would be sleep if I were in bed, but instead it's a feeling of peace and tranquility and that everything is just fine. People look better and I feel no apprehension about others and one fine morning awakened to 15 new friends on Facebook. Some I didn't even know! I recognized one fellow as a friend of a friend whose name appeared on emails and suddenly I felt love for this person and wanted to know them better. (This is not like me) 

I find that belonging to a dating service in NOT a good idea at times like this, as I write wonderful warm emails to total strangers that just go rambling on and on. Most are wise enough to ignore me, but on occasion some reply just as warmly and that's where this story is going.

I think it was Sunday or Monday this past week that I popped an Ambien and got wordy on my laptop. Surprisingly, the following morning I had several replies, so I inquired as to what in the world I had written. It appeared that women in their late 60's were not a problem for me and the replies were shocking. One rather attractive lady that was a mere 60, replied that she is from my hometown, my same religion and suggested we speak on the phone, but neglected to offer me her phone number. Feeling happy and gallant, I offered he mine, but she never replied or called. Oh well, another casualty of online dating.

Today, the cincher occurred. This morning I was standing in the kitchen, flipping eggs when my phone alerted me of a text message. It told me I had an email from someone on match.com. This is the message:

Hi Me, 

Sounds like a good idea. Lets meet and see what happens. 
When is good for you? 
Sally

As I sat there splashing eggs into my mouth, I could hardly wait to see what gem I had written, that was agreeable to this kind 63 year old lady, all the while praying there was no walker involved in her picture. Instead, there was an elderly lady standing behind the counter at a Circle K or Seven-eleven. Here is my email that I initiated.

Hi There:

You seem like a nice lady and I love that you're retired. Me too! If we decided to get together we'd have a lot of time to do whatever we want. I'm a fun guy with good morals and values. If you're interested, let me know. My time on this site is over soon, thank God! lol...

Mel

What am I supposed to do now? You see what I did there? I had a thought, however illogical, and decided to was worthy of print. Normal minds edit those thoughts, mine does, but not when I take Ambien! I wonder if there's a 12 step program for people that want to get off of Ambien. I'll bet they're really sleepy!

TWELVE EXTRA BUCKS a MONTH, WOW!

After 3 rather boring years of high school, I decided that things were awaiting me, that were far more exciting than the abuse of a man named James O. Miller, the principal at our local high school. I must have had a tattoo on my forehead that said VICTIM, because every time this abusive fat man saw me in the halls, even just walking, he would stop me and harass me. I don't remember sassing him or talking back in any way, but I never escaped his presence without some sort of punishment. At some point, when it was time to return to school in September of 1963, I recall spending about two hours sitting in the parked car of my father, a 1959 Ford Custom, contemplating my future and deciding humanity would be best served if I remained in the work force. So I just never returned to school, but instead went to work at my job as manager of the University Shop at Saks Fifth Avenue, in Skokie, Illinois. Although I didn't have any employees working for me and there was no pay raise included in my promotion to manager of the newly created University Shop, I was proud to have achieved this promotion after only 3 months of employment. I was still earning $65 a week, CA$H! (Take home $55.20)

After working there a full year, (I thought), I made a reservation for a buddy and myself to go to Miami Beach, Florida on my first time ever, vacation. It was to be my first experience flying, as well. I was more than excited, I was ecstatic! A couple of days before my vacation was scheduled, I was informed by my employer, that I was intending on leaving on my vacation just 364 days after my day of employment and that my vacation was being revoked, meaning it was canceled and I was expected to be at work, regardless of my plans and if I did not show up, I would be terminated. So, I QUIT! (screw 'em) Bigger and better things awaited me!

I was 18 or so and the world was my stepping stone! I replaced the job at Saks with a job at Lyttons in another local shopping center and things moved along nicely. At some point I met a guy, like myself and the two of us decided to go to work as partners, creating Luckman-Fisher Associates. We were to be manufacturers representatives in the booming men's wear business. All we needed was a manufacturer to believe that we 2, twenty years-olds were worthy of employment. That didn't seem to happen. I, however got a job after applying by telephone for a job as a rep for Gaslight Slacks and was flown to New York for my interview. By lying and saying I was 26, I was hired and trained in NY for about 6 weeks. (Thank goodness, computers were waaay off in the future!) Returning home, I was very successful at my new territory and happily worked for a couple of years when I learned that my company had gone bankrupt and once again I was unemployed. Kicking and fighting and struggling was the name of the game and somehow I survived the shock of climbing my way up again and found myself working very hard, and representing 5 different companies in men's wear. Myself and another gentleman opened a store called Up Your Legs, a pants store, specializing in $5.99 pants for the unisex culture and soon I bought out my partner. One day, my wife and I along with our older son and a Poodle dog went on vacation camping across the country and discovering a place called Arizona and immediately fell in love! It was amazing! Sunny and clear and friendly. I had to have it! My wife, completely confused, agreed to go along with me on my plan to sell everything and relocate to this paradise. (only she and "us" didn't last very long). I cannot for the life of me remember what happened to that Poodle dog!

Once again I struggled and tried my hardest to support my family of 4. We had 2 sons and a different dog. I tried the woman's wear business and hated it! My father in law, at the time, was involved in the automobile business and convinced me that there was money to be be made buying and selling cars. I tried it and I loved it! It never felt like working. I'd awaken early and go to hang out with my new friends that happened to be in the car business. Trade ins would be arriving and I would buy them from my friends and sell them to other friends what were managers of other dealerships. They called it "wholesaling". When I got divorced, I'd do it 7 days a week. Where else was I going to go? One of the managers and myself opened a used car lot and now we had our own place to hang. We sold cars retail, which was just the frosting on the cake, because wholesaling was my main bread and butter. 

In 1980, I got divorced and a friend of mine from Chicago had moved to Tucson and bought a restaurant and bar in Sedona. He was going broke there and asked for my help both physically and financially. Suddenly I was a partner in a bar and restaurant in Sedona and commuting every week to be there and manage the bar. I was 34 then. The focus was to sell the bar after building it back up a little and we did. By 1982, we had sold it twice and the second time it stayed sold! I resumed my efforts in the automobile business and in 2001, after the invasion on 9/11, things in that business kind of fell apart, but I owned inventory and continued on. 

Once again struggling and having lost almost everything, I still had my house that was now worth about $850,000 and I was counting on it to keep me afloat. BAM! The market fell and my house was now worth less than I owed on it. I lost my savings, my house and almost my life. In 2005, I was stabbed through the heart by an insane doctor while performing an angio-gram and went into a coma for 2 weeks. when I awakened, I had lost 30 LBS and almost my life. Now I was broke and weak and living on my savings. At 63 I realized I wasn't going back to work and applied for social security and received a meager amount and just yesterday I received a letter in the mail from the department of social security that they are increasing my monthly check by $12, that prompted this entry into this blog. I just don't know what to spent the extra money on, the new Maserati or that house on the French Riviera that I've had my eye on?

It's not that I don't appreciate it, it's just that in my dreams, it just won't help!