Ok, there was talk between me and the Outdoor Writer friend of mine the day before Super Bowl Sunday, about us getting together for breakfast on Super Sunday – before the NY Giants were to play the New England Patriots in the Super Bowl.
Of course the Giants went on to beat the New England Patriots in Super Bowl 46!
Well, to make matters worst, Outdoor Writer thought, “I’d never wake it to the daylights of earth,” “well, I woke up at 05:30 a.m., on Super Sunday morning to get my the breakfast hang out by 07:30 a.m. to get my usual table, where, I pen the blogs at midnight mass on certain publishing nights – “Dat’s the blogging bastards way of getting business done in the middle of the night, cranking out blogs and burning the midnight oil, at the same time.”
I’m sure the Outdoor Writer got amazed at the witches hour of the day, when I fired off a military rant to the bunny dumper in his sack – “Moi, your fired, you actually screwed over your “drill Sgt.,” you blockhead!”
Now – getting stood up by the Outdoor Writer, calls for a partial free somewhere – However, I ended up buying someone else breakfast on Super Sunday, besides for myself – at least, for a friend, I work with on the Community Emergency Response Team with. “Now, that’s a great moi plan, Sir Newton,” as I thought.
At least I got the better part of it to hiking part of the Timberline Trail in the hills of my ole stomping grounds in the Churchill Neighborhood before the game! Thanks Thomas for nearly killing me on that hike! LOL…..
Now, I’ll think of a more satire way of dealing with the ole Outdoor Writer on the next ordeal – make him, buy the breakfast, new time around…..! “Dat’s the spirit, Sgt. Hulka!”
To be continued……
Last night, I had a chance to sit down in a local restaurant and do some computer work on my laptop. While, I was there, a women walked up to me, as I was having a Yahoo chat with my brother – she started becoming an inquiring mind about my Cochlear Implant.
She told me she had never seen one up close, but and “Live” on a person wearing one.
It was an astounding moment cold blooded in and out of the spurn moment to inquire about the “bionic technology”, also known as a Cochlear Implant or “CI”.
Who ever said, “it’s the girl magnet?”. I often wonder how that little magical bastard works it’s magical strength!
My late Grandfather would probably have a fit at his old spanky age, if he were here today, thinking a $100K dollar surgery was the scam of a lifetime!
Holy cow Batman, the “Boy Wonder” of technology has won again! I clutch my teeth, make a frown face and shrug my shoulders upward, thinking – holy Toledo and thinking I’ve won the jackpot in the Oregon Lottery!
Well, it certainly isn’t Ohio, but, your right, we’re in Oregon and I can’t put the blame game on Charlie and his tuna fish. So, what can I say?
The impromptu girl magnet is working its magical wonders of the world. And, it’s a priceless decision on my part from four years earlier when I decided this was the chance of a lifetime.
I was probably right too, right?
I get so intrigued by those spur of the moment visits from the public these days, I’d would be a total stranger to the universe, than wearing, the “Superman or Batman” costume around town.
Makes sense huh? I thought so, indeed. I would be glad if some of you readers agree than watching a complete marathon run of Fox-TV’s “COPS”.
I was grateful that she took the time to stop by my table once again before she left and asked a few more questions. I’m always open to talking publically to those whom are a complete stranger and it becomes an conversation start to begin with.
As a writer and blogger, this is something that gets people to talk about at the coffee table, with family and friends and also complete strangers sitting next to you and more.
It’s not easy being an almost “public figure” to the “John Q” public, but its good public relations on educating the public about the Cochlear technology and one’s life story from start to finish with one’s life with a hearing loss.
Perhaps, this it the time of my life (no, not the song) where life really begins with a bang at be the public figure in your own way. Just how does Cochlear do it?
Like, I said, earlier in this post – “it’s the silly ol’ bastards way of getting the girl magnet” to work its charm!.
Now that’s the wrap with technology – go figures!
Four days ago and less than a week to go before Christmas, things are getting closer to reality than I can count. Five more days will ring the hardest part of life – the passing of my grandmother.
This will, literally be the be the second Christmas without her, but largely the ultimate time of reflection of her 82 years of life. I’m not really prone to reflections of life all that easy as the “George Bailey” character in the Jimmy Steward Movie, “Its a wonderful life,” in iconic Christmas classic that spells the true meaning of Christmas.
The reflections of one’s Christmas is shadowed by things that have happened during one’s past year of life, the course of misery and turmoil marred the battle between scrooges who decided to take life into their own hands and take people’s dreams away from people who worked hard to make their dreams a reality – only to get it stolen by some “robo signer” in the mortgage, lending and banking business.
This Christmas marks tough economic times and hardships for those who have been fighting and literally given up on the fight to secure their family homes and generations of land and property that has been in many family heritages for many generations since this country was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1492.
Everyday, when I look out the window, I see cars driving up and down the street and I often wonder how many of those were victims of a foreclosure, bribery and extortion of a “Robo signer” in the Mortgage, Lending and Banking business? A hard count is very hard to settle and swallow if there were any real data on exactly how many of those were actual victims of a “Robo theft” – perhaps, I should say an extortioner’s hunger for a digestive appetite for profiting in extortion of stealing peoples property for their own gain and profit sharing with banks & lenders.
I often worry about those who struggle. Those who try vainly to stay afloat without drowning in the sea of con’s working their trade to profit in a fast growing business that should be illegally defined as federal offense and punishable with a fine and long winded jail sentence where they’d never touch the ink of a pen and the stroke of a signature to take one’s dreams and family generations of ownership of the American Dream to those who deserve the bitterness and quality of life.
Banks, Mortgage companies and Money Lenders are nothing in my book as classical thieves who droll on those that are vulnerable – Unless you happen to have a good ally in the banking business your better off doing business with them, than, those who set up shop on the corner luring you to theft, crime and no other means to save your piece of the American Dream.
Americans deserve better this Christmas, than those who choose to be pity and steal for personal and profitable gains. It’s not about how they do business? It show how they conduct business without being an honest friend and businessman or women. The loss is to great to swallow and cherish, but, only the star will shine once again on a Christmas tree somewhere, someplace, somehow when Christmas arrives next week on Saturday morning.
The truth is – there is magic out there this holiday season, you just need to find it and believe in your own heart that there is really a Christmas. As George Baily said, “Clarence, I don’t care what happens to me, just give me back to my wife and kids,” and the ultimate gift of magic was drawn upon him with the help of his family and friends, he became the richest man in town, has his brother, “Harry” said, while bringing a toast to his big brother, while gathered among family and friends.
Perhaps, Clarence could use another set of Wings this Christmas?
Ask yourself this question, “When was the last time you saw a flight attendant, quit his or her job, while the aircraft was still on the tarmac and getting ready to head near the gate and deboard passengers from its flight?”. Not very often flight attendants throw a such a universal scene that makes them a folk hero to those that fly the friendly skies and ends up as a national sensational icon on the nightly news because of the endeavor.
Its so ironically insane that such a mood took place, drinking a beer and letting all his or her passengers, know that he’s the “motherfucker”, that treated the passenger like shit, etc., even tho, he was the victim of the vicious attack by a passenger that took his or her own temper out on the flight attendant doing his job, while the plane was still in motion to the gate.
Passengers are supposed to enjoy their flights from Point A to Point B and give them ultimate respect for making them feel safe and sound during the entire flight and from airport to airport in their enlighten travels.
The ultimate consequence is going to jail for ditching his flight, taking out the emergency chute and having to have it replaced by the airline for $25k bucks to repair.
What really intrigues me about this entire story is that Slater’s fame is – “Instant” overnight fame and a hero by fellow flight attendants around the globe for his momentum of quiting his job at the right moment and the right place.
Nobody should be treated unfairly because he or she if doing their job and some one else decides to put the blame on the people who make their flights the pleasure seeker of the flight and trip. Life is full of surprises, but its also full of mysteries of why people do what they do in their everyday life.
I’ve probably quit many jobs over my lifetime because of the way people treated me or the way people decided was worth the lust of their business to create a hostile work environment. I never became a folk hero overnight, like Steven Slater, but, I did things differently with the things I worked with and the jobs I did.
Life has it’s momentum, but, being a folk hero is what comes with a jet suit and a flight plan, that becomes the ultimate core of guilt, when suddenly some decides to defuse the temper on the poor soul doing his job.