Memorial Day ≠ National Grilling Day (or Death: the Great Equalizer)

Those of you who know me well probably understand that I wasn't overly enthusiastic about my time in service. Mentally it wore me down, and I view it as somewhat of a failure. Though in retrospect, I wished I had been able to remain stronger and make more of my time in service.

Acknowledging that, however, I have nothing but respect for any man or woman that lifts their hand to take the oath of enlistment, binding them to military service for an agreed on number of years. These service men and women offer up their lives, whether fate sees fit to take them up on that offer is another story. Not that it matters what kind of person they are in my mind; they put their lives on the line for a cause that is not their own. Perhaps they're driven by motivations of the GI Bill or family legacy or maybe it's just a last ditch effort to feel as if they're on the road to somewhere.

Regarding a conversation (of sorts) with a friend this Friday afternoon, I had to walk away from it because of some of things he said. He vented some of his frustrations with several things, the military being one of them. Agreeing with several of his statements and disagreeing with several others, I was very alarmed at a comment he made concerning veterans, both living and dead.

Largely a copying and pasting of the conversation, I won't say his real name, and I'll only begin it with his final statement:

My Friend:
"So I'm sure you think I'm a piece of shit now?"

Me:
 "No, I don't think you're a piece of shit at all. I do, however, take issue with your opinions and statements concerning veterans. Even the soldiers with whom I hated serving deserve an ounce of respect. Why? Because they raised their hand in an act that very well could mean their death. Maybe the reason for joining was shitty even, but the still joined. It's not easy to offer your life and a majority of your legal freedoms to another organization.

Even regarding the soldiers whose minds were warped enough to think the wars were just I pity even more. I pity them because only in death can they possibly see the error of their ways/thoughts.

Regarding death (and bodies and graves): Death is the great equalizer. Osama Bin Laden (may his memory be erased) is likely reaping the results of the misery he has sown. Who knows, maybe he has even had a change of heart and now regrets so many of the actions he has taken in life. Like Jacob Marley in "A Christmas Carol" expressed, Osama Bin Laden wears "the chain" he forged in his life. Link by link, he left behind a legacy that will forever eclipse any good he may have done. 

That being said, I don't view disrespecting the bodies or graves of even the enemies something to be of the civilized world. Without condoning or condemning, I can somewhat understand those actions, but not agree in any way that they're positive in the least."

Often I like to take a moment to express my appreciation and admiration for our men and women in uniform. To them I offer these words:

God Bless you and keep you safe. May you come home as heroes to your family and community, but most importantly may you just come home. May you reach an understanding similar to my own, but even if you don't, please shake another veteran's hands and let them know that they're appreciated. Whether you be a fighter on land, air or sea, you have my love and respect. My greatest sorrow is that you'll never be on the receiving end of such words, that you'll forever be the one "who gave all."

 

An Arby's Haiku 4 You!

Hungry for Arby's,

Not as large as I expected, but significant, to be sure.

Scared of eating finger,
Taco Bell Instead?

Expanding my knowledge base of the what is the Arby's Finger scandal of 2012, I read on twitter some news concerning the latest developments of the investigation into the incident. There's an estimated 3-4 sandwiches made prior to the worker reporting their finger being cut on the slicer. Having briefly worked at an Arby's, I can testify to the sandwich station being an extremely fast paced area of the store, but it's unreal to me that it would have gone unnoticed that blood and a chunk of finger were now in the meat.


While I'm not overly concerned, and I'm certain I'm not alone in that my appetite for Arby's is, at the moment, significantly diminished, I'm actually more forgiving than my general attitude might convey. Yes, it's a gross lack of attention to detail and professionalism that has allowed this incidence to occur. Yes, it's unfortunate that this young teen is probably going to think about that finger for some time, though possibly this might make him more aware of his food from now on. It's also unfortunate that Arby's is likely going to face some serious scrutiny from many a direction, some unjustified in my opinion.

Brings me to my point of today's mini-rant: my father, in response to mentioning the number of elapsed sandwiches, related to me that the mother of the *victimized* youth is considering legal action and is speaking with legal counsel; I drew attention to the word victimized for a reason.

You've likely seen this youth, in a photo, if you've followed the story with even a mild amount of interest. He appears to be an average looking youngster, as much as I can gather from a simple photo, and I certainly see no indication that he's a deviant child in any shape or form. His smirking in the photo suggests to me, assuming the photo was taken post incident, that he's in relatively good spirits in the wake of his brush with all to real finger food. Even his comments, though this could be media influenced, seem to mild mannered and not of a person that is particularly distraught in any way.

Why then, and on what grounds, is the mother seeking to sue? If in fact she is intending to sue, whom will she sue? On what grounds is something what's on my mind. Remembering my attention to the word victimized, I can't see how he was victimized. It certainly wasn't an intended action against him, and it's unlikely that he's contracted any sickness or disease from this small piece of flesh, something which a couple medical experts have already testified as being extremely unlikely that anything harmful was transmitted from such a small piece of flesh.

Might the mother argue the health infectious angle, that he might have been infected by something? Perhaps an emotional or mental angle? Claim he hasn't been able to eat or sleep since the incident? Something else entirely? My limited mind, especially limited in the realm of legal knowledge, can't conceive of a way that the case could hold any validity. Arby's has to answer for this occurrence, but are they answerable to this woman and her son, at least in a legal sense? As a display of good form, I think Arby's would benefit from making amends by way of a small sum of money or something to recompense the boy for his troubles.

Of course, the variable I haven't yet fully acknowledged is the legal counsel. In ways that I can't fathom, I'm sure the lawyer with whom she's in contact is able to contrive a reason that will stand on some solid ground. Crooked bastards....

For the remainder of the day, I'll continue to apply for employment at places I view as beneath me, await acceptance from an institution of higher learning, and possibly even read a little bit. All the while feeling very much like a deformed being with my swollen face caused by a sinus infection. Maybe in a few days I'll write more about myself and/or important. In fact, I sort of want to address television and other distractions to human creativity, things that take us away from realizing our own potentials.

Numb...

Know what's special about this image? Nothing. There is nothing significant about it at all. It says nothing to me. It isn't touching some deep part of my soul that I'm almost brought to tears. I just pulled out my camera yesterday and took a pic. No reason at all, but hoped that maybe I'd think of something to write concerning that pic. However, nothing comes to mind concerning this pic, as I've mentioned before.

Perhaps your more discerning eye can find something to evoke a little more emotion. The contrast in light might remind you of approaching summertime, with memories of sitting under welcome shade while the sun beats down. A tasty iced tea in hand, though maybe you'd rather it be an ice cold Pabst Blue Ribbon, which leads me to another idea of summertime involving BBQ and beer. Maybe even a game at the park - local or Comerica - which can help us appreciate the warmer months of summer. Of course, maybe you're looking at the girl in the green top walk across the street and thinking of summer time and the droves of women wearing little to no clothing (depending on the venue). 

Maybe you can see these things, and obviously so can I see those things in my own pic, but I've been feeling very little joy these past couple days and weeks. I need a job. I need to know where I'll be in the fall and remainder of my schooling. I need some sort of re-balancing of mental chemistry. I need time to become comfortable in my own skin and I sure as hell need relief from my own mental anal retentive obsessions. 

I need a job. Believe it or not, I've been casting a wide net, though I haven't yet tuned that net to lower end jobs (McD's, Wendy's, etc..).Technically, I have a job but for whatever stupid reason, my boss decided to passive aggressively get rid of me by not scheduling me any hours at all. He didn't fire me, has on occasion told me he'll put me on the schedule, and constantly denied anything other than budget reasons for not giving me more hours. Consequently, with every additional job to which I apply, I have an incredible urge to punch him. Sucks too, because as much as I've been putting my name out there filling out apps and sending out my resume (too lazy to include accent marks now), nothing has been aligning the way it should. Not that I expect to land the perfect job right away, but a bit of good fortune would be nice.

My (hopefully) final semester at JCC has ended, with an incredible amount of stress near the end. I'm waiting on word from an institution of higher learning to accept me with open arms, though a letter expressing that I don't completely suck and they'll take me would be appreciated. 

Mentally I'm at odds with myself. On one hand I have the great Phanny B and on the other hand I have me. Believe me, as powerful a force in my mind, heart and soul that Phanny B is, my own neurotic tendencies are equally formidable. Years of building them up and being added to by a number of unfortunate circumstances; layer upon layer upon layer of stupidity - both of external and internal sources. I've created many of my own problems, but some have just fallen my way. 

Counseling would help, I should think. Some pill popping might be in order even. Not that I want to resort to medications, but things just might be so out of sorts up top that I need a little help. I certainly can't hold it against anyone for wanting reduced symptoms at nearly any cost. 

Depending on what you're getting out of this, I'm either messed up or just ducky. I'll agree to both. Things are right in the world one day, and chaotic and distressing the next. Today, for example, I didn't want to see anyone, not even Phanny. I did see her, and I even had a little fun with her. I hope she wasn't too brought down my own negativity, however, because even having fun wasn't enough to completely remove the mood of gloom.

How do you tell someone like Phanny that you want a day or two to be to yourself? I've thought I'd be able to convey it before, but I have a problem doing just that. I'm too worried that she won't understand the need or that she'll be offended by not being able to see me (or help me) that day. How do you tell someone that you don't want to see anyone, including them and even yourself? 

Call me out for not really loving her if you want, because maybe you're right. Then again, maybe I'm normal and you're just not honest with yourself and your partner. There are days when I don't even want to see me or be me, so wanting days where I don't see a single person is appealing to me, every once in a while.

Largely I'm just going through a lull right now. I'm numb and I feel oddly betrayed my so many different people and entities. So many things I can just brush off my shoulder, but in the past few years I've felt as if the fates are pushing my buttons by heaping extraordinarily large numbers of petty things on me. Very things major, but one minor thing after another and another keep befalling me, and I'm growing tired of it happening. Once in a spell, it's something bigger than usual.

Fuck me...I'm such an emo turd. I'm done. Maybe tomorrow or the next day I'll write a more humorous diatribe relating my irritation with presidential election year.

So long my Andy-villians!