Another Vent

Here are some more gripes. Man, I have a lot of things to bitch about.

Fat Women in cloths to small for them- No women should be allowed to wear half shirts or belly chains if their guts are bigger than mine. Nothing is more disgusting than seeing some hillbilly and her goiter sticking out from some piece of clothing that was meant for someone 100 pounds lighter. Drop 50 pounds or get liposuction and then call me.

Guys in cowboy hats- Is there anything sillier or lamer than some inbreed hill-rod wearing a ten-gallon hat. Nothing signifies macho, centuries old, outdated backward ass thinking then some dip-shit walking around in a ten-gallon hat. You might as well walk around with a sign that reads, “To Whom it may concern, I am an asshole.”

Any Adult who calls their mother “Mommie”- God, how I hate this one. What are we all ten years old now? Grow the fuck up already and stop living in this delusional state of mind where it is socially acceptable to use baby talk. Mom, Ma, Mother, are all acceptable terms to call the woman who gave birth to you. Mommie, when used by a child is lame, but when used by an adult is like nails on a chalkboard.

Cashier’s- Not all but most encounters I have with them are unpleasant. A simple smile or thank you is all I ask but I rarely even get that any more. Most of the time, I get the feeling that being a cashier is beneath them some how. Like, it society’s fault that they are stuck in some dead end job. Hey, I was a cashier for many years. I jockeyed a register and while I agree it is shit work, there are a lot worse things you could be doing. (Like giving 10-dollar BJ’s at truck stops.) If you don’t like dealing with people than by all means, go dig ditches. This is why I feel little remorse using the self-checkout lanes.

Robin Williams- I am not sure how much more over the top this guy could be. Every one seems to thinks this guy is funny and let me be the first to say, he is not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Most of the time he cracks a joke it is a miss. He hits on one out of ten. That is a shit average. To think this guy used to be a cokehead. How he never had a heart attack is beyond me. So, please stop going to this guys movies so, maybe he might just go away.

Me First People- You know the type, they sprint on to an elevator before everyone has gotten off, they drive like lunatics just so they can sit at a red light longer than you, and they cut in long lines because they are to important to wait. This behavior is ugly and disrespectful and should be punishable. Common courtesy is gone and this is further proof of it.

NASCAR Fans- Is there anything worse than this brain dead hillbilly “sport?” The beauty of watching baseball or football is that you can debate what play should be ran or questioning the manager or coaches decision. With NASCAR there is no strategy. It is for brain dead gear heads that think driving fast is neat. NASCAR is just further proof of just how dumb we have become as a society. If you willingly sit at home and to watch car’s drive around in a loop five hundred times you are already brain dead. It’s over drink the Kool-Aid already.

The FCC- This un-elected, illogical body is killing America. Who are they to say what is obscene and what is not. Who is anybody to try to classify others tastes. Censorship is now prevalent in America. The other day I was watching Carrie on regular TV and they cut out the blood in the bucket scene. THAT IS THE CLIMAX OF THE FUCKING MOVIE! But, these stations are so in fear of getting fined that they have stopped taking any chances. So, now we are closer to a vanilla, bland, un-creative society. Folks we need a revolution and darn soon.

Misplaced Patriotism- There is nothing wrong with loving your country. However, to turn a blind eye to all the pain and suffering we cause the rest of the world is not the answer. If someone wants to burn the flag it is there right. You may not agree with it but being an American allows others with other viewpoints the right to express them. I don’t agree with the KKK but they have every right to spout their hate whenever they want. That is what makes this country great. And, if you truly love it you would recognize as opposed to being threatened by it.

Into The Corporate Suckhole

The following is part four in a series of blog's celebrating my 20 years in the work force. Each Thursday, I will update this site with the latest installment.

My first job in corporate America came to me by pure chance. I was twenty two and on a summer break from college. I was resigned to the fact that I was going to be at the big K all summer making my six bucks an hour and working about twenty hours a week. However, I was happy. Sure, I had no money but I had a girlfriend and a shitty car. I was getting laid, drinking every night and had zero responsibility. That all was about to change and I can’t remember being that happy ever since I went on that fateful first real interview.

One day in June my Step Dad’s brother, Len calls me. He says there is a summer job open at his company, and would be perfect for a college kid like myself. It was 40 hours a week at $7.50 an hour. It sounded like a million to me. He told me if I was interested to come downtown and talk to the guy doing the hiring. So, I hop on the train and start the interview process.

I would meet my new “boss” Bob. Bob was 50ish, rail thin and a raging alcoholic. He had a bottle of Jim Beam in his desk at all times and on lunch he would hit the bar everyday. He smelled like stale beer and Lucky Strikes. However, he after meeting him he did agree to hire me.

So, I was off to work at IRI. Being twenty two, the first thing I did was to tell K-mart that I could only work weekends. For some moronic reason I did not quit the Mart. The job was so easy and I was so good at it I figured I could do both jobs. I would live that schedule for a year and a half. I was right, I could do both jobs but I had no more free time. Thus, I wasn’t getting laid as much, which sucked, and my girl friend was getting pissed about not being able to see me and my two incher. (She eventually cheated on me.)

So on June 30^th, 1992 I began my career at Information Recourses Incorporated, as well as my slow descent to hell. IRI is a marketing company that is in the business of providing scanner data from stores to companies like, Pepsi, Quaker and Budweiser. I found this out in great detail on my first day orientation. If I ever have insomnia I can always think back to all the times that I was forced to sit through all the orientation propaganda I’ve been forced to sit through over the years. I’m usually asleep in five minutes.

At my new job, I figured out the basics. I’ve always been a quick learner so, I watched what everyone else was doing and copied it. They stuck me in the back room of a computer lab with Bob, and two skilled technicians, Gabe and Dave. Dave was a big black man, who had all the computer knowledge in the world. However, he completely lacked any social skills or patience. This was good because, as soon as I started doing something wrong, Dave would step in and do the job the fastest way possible. My other co-worker was Gabe. Gabe was really cool and I genuinely liked him a lot. Gabe, was Mexican and knew his shit. He was however at heart a slacker just like me. Gabe and Dave were PC Technicians while I was just a temp PC Installer. I setup new PC’s one after another like an assembly line worker, while Dave and Gabe supported every PC in the company. Fortunately, for the three of us the company was growing at a rate so fast that we could not possibly do things as fast as was needed.

If I busted my ass I could have probably gotten eight or nine PC’s done a day. My typical day was three. (Of course since I was only 22 and I had absouleutley no work ethic.) I figured why bust my ass, no one else seemed to be. With no incentive and with Bob, sauced all the time there was no manager on my ass to do good work. My Co-workers and I invented ways to waste time. We, played video games, took long lunches, and longer coffee and cigarette breaks. I figured I had found my dream job. I was in heaven. It wouldn’t last, it never does.

Slowly but surely the atmosphere went from one of a place to go to work and have fun to a place that was becoming more and more corporate. As the company grew from an infant to a teenager I realized I had not grown along with it.

At the end of my first summer when I was going back to school, IRI still needed me. Bob came to me and asked if I could work part time while I was in school. This was a crossroads for me in many ways. I knew deep down that I should concentrate on school and quit IRI. (I mean I didn’t want to work with computers. Why should I stay there.) I would have trouble doing both. On the other hand I was given a chance to work in a company and gain some invaluable work experience. In the end I choose to stay at IRI. Thus taking my second step in many to a meaningless soulful existence in the work force. I had decided to become a worker bee. Working for the all mighty queen who could treat me however she wanted because I was now too tired to do anything about it.

IRI wasn’t all bad. They were a young company. Meaning that at 25 you would be considerd old if you worked there. Another plus was that they let you wear jeans everyday. So, I didn’t have to upgrade my entire wardrobe. Also, they had a Client Services department that was fully stocked with girls right out of college. The guy in charge of that area was a total pervert and every female there was model like. IRI, also knew how to throw a party. The company picnic and Christmas parties were orgy like. That picnic alone is a seprate blog in itself. I have to admit I had a lot of fun working there for the most part.

I continued on at IRI for four and a half years and eventually became a full timer and a SR. PC Technician. However, because I came in at such a low salary I never received the fair market share. Eventually Bob, was fired and my new boss was Carey. Carey was in his mid-thirty’s smoked, and was like the rest of them, dense beyond belief. I should also mention he lived in Indiana. If you ask why this is important you’ve obviously never been to the Hoosier State. He also had a bad cocaine habit. (Only at IRI could an alcoholic be replaced by a cokehead.) When Bob was on his way out, a power struggle ensued between Carey and the old boss of the help desk Lorene. I sided with Lorene and hoped beyond hope she would take over as manager for my area. She instead quit and took a job with another company, meaning I was going to be under Carey. (Translation: I was fucked.)

I made the best of it and lasted there from June of 92 until December of 96. I owe a lot to IRI as it is where I learned my trade. I never really made any serious money there but, I had a pretty good time working there. Looking back I had it pretty good and if the money would have been right, who knows I still might be there. However, I was tired of being under-paid so, I sought a new job. Eventually I found one and I was reminded of the old saying “Be careful what you ask for, you just might get it.”

We Got Game

I used to be a huge Bulls fan. Back in the Jordan era, I wouldn’t dare miss a game. My friends and I caught almost every game of the 95-96, 72-win season. Of course as history shows Jerry Krause and Jerry Resindorf got the bright idea to re-build the team and break up the championship team. The past six seasons have been painful to watch. However, this current team has piqued my interest again.

The Bulls are the youngest team in the NBA and after getting off to a 0-9 start now, are four games over .500 and in the 6^th position in the Eastern Conference, which means if the season ended today they would be in the playoffs. All of this excites me. The Bears are currently in a real funk. They have had one winning season in the last 11 years. The Cubs keep breaking my heart and hockey is all but dead.

So, that leaves the baby Bulls. This is a fun team to watch. Ben Gordon has the makings to be a real scoring threat for years to come. Luol Deng is a freak of nature and can do so many things on the floor, that his potential is limitless. Eddie Curry is finally living up to all that hype and making plays. Kirk Heinrich is a legitimate point guard, and Tyson Chandler can rebound the ball with anyone. They play great defense and when they run a fast break it is a thing of beauty.

The credit for the turnaround has to go to John Paxson and his hand picked choice as coach, Scott Skiles. Paxson, in two years has made three great draft picks and has gotten rid of Kraue’s bad contracts. He dumped, Eddie Robinson, Jalen Rose and Jamal Crawford. In return he made the team better by getting rid of their bad attitudes and me first mentality.

I am going to the Bulls game this Friday with my wife. This is my first chance to see the Bulls in person this year and I am anxious. After winning the six championships in the 90’s with Jordon and Pippen, the Bulls became larger than life. As much as I loved those teams this one kind of warms my heart a little more. They are the NBA’s underdogs and who doesn’t root for the underdog. So, no matter what happens the rest of the season I want to thank the Bulls for making my winter interesting for the first time in years. I still cannot wait for baseball but the Bulls have gone a long way to filling that void.

Sick Of Being Sick

I pride myself on not getting sick. I hate being out of commission, with the flu, a cold, anything. Now, I know no one likes being sick. However, with my personality it is a bad combination. Over the last week, I have been a little under the weather. Joyce got sick from a co-worker and passed it right on to me.

It started out as a sore throat. Every thing I ate or drank became painful. I drank a lot of tea and after a couple of days my throat was fine but then I was congested. I was on to Hall’s and taking some decongestants. After suffering through that for a couple of days I am now onto stage three, coughing. I am currently coughing up as much mucus as the Marlboro man.

All this was accompanied by an overall feeling like shit. I was tired, had no energy and felt like I had just gone toe to toe with Mike Tyson. All I had the energy to do was watch a lot of TV. All of which drove me bonkers as I was felt the walls closing in on me. I have this personality disorder where I need to leave the house and see what is going on in the outside world. Feeling like dung caused my social life to take a hit.

In the end I know I will get better. I have the common cold and I guess I should not complain as I have gone three winters with out catching a cold, so the numbers were against me. It was just my time to get hit with a bug. Winter is almost over and the days of feeling like shit are almost behind me. There was one benefit to being sick and that was the realization that I could never be a hypochondriac

If, there is an opposite term for hypochondriac that is what I would term myself. I cannot stand these people who are always sick. A friend of mine’s wife is like that. Every time I talk to her she is sick. She has a million allergies and I often wonder how the hell he puts up with it. Also, and I know as I get older I will have to grow out of this, but it takes me missing a limb to go see a doctor.

Everyone keeps telling me go see a doctor. I ask for what, so I can pay $20 dollars and he can tell me that I have a cold and to drink plenty of liquids? We have become so over dependent on pharmaceuticals and doctors in this country it is frightening. If you are really sick and you need legitimate help than by all means go to the doctor. However, with most people anytime they have the sniffles they head off to the doctors office. Because of that, you might be able to make an appointment sometime right before the next presidential election.

We all need to grow a set of balls and deal with feeling off. Sure, I felt like crap and Joyce had to hear me bitch about it. But, life goes on and I will get better. Going to see a doctor if you are merely not feeling well affects those with real ailments. Because while you are getting a prescription for un-needed antibiotics, someone who is genuinely sick has to wait.

I am not talking about medical checkups and that nature. We all need to do those things. However, once a year is more than enough to have a checkup. Sure medical testing can save lives but getting an entire health body scan just because you have indigestion is in a word overkill.

A Belated Birthday wish

Today is my father’s 57^th birthday. I want to give him a shout out. Remember age is just a number. It is not how old you are but how old you feel and look and Dad, you could easily pass for 56.

But, seriously happy birthday and I will give you a call tonight.

The Big K

The following is part three in a series of blog's celebrating my 20 years in the work force. Each Thursday, I will update this site with the latest installment.

I started at the Mart in August of 1987. I would work there until January of 94. That is six and a half years. That is currently my longest job streak to date. I owe a lot to Kmart. When I got married with the exception of my brother every other groomsman that stood up with me worked with me at Kmart.

Fate must have played a part in my hiring. I had to apply three times and finally on that third time I got a call back. My friend Mike Dell worked there and had talked me into applying one more time. There is nothing lower than getting rejected by Kmart so the thought of re-applying was not very appealing. However, I did apply and got an interview and was quickly hired.

I was put in the Health and Beauty and Party Goods section. I was in charge of stocking paper plates, aspirin, tin foil, and women’s feminine products. I liked the job well enough, as I was able to roam the store and hit on all the sixteen year old checkout girls. After changing jobs so much in the past year, I just wanted to find a home. Kmart was that home and I got myself into a nice little rut.

After about a year and half of stocking FDS, the Pharmacist who worked there, Sue asked me if I wanted to become a Pharmacy Tech. All I needed to do was pay the fee, (which Kmart reimbursed me for) and pass some simple test. So, I moved into the Pharmacy. It had it’s pro’s and con’s. I learned a lot about medicine and what to take and what not to. I also learned how to multi-task as the Pharmacy was usually very busy and I would be doing three things at once. The biggest plus, as I saw it was I knew just who was on birth control. On the other hand I dealt with evey old, bitter, hypochondriac in the South West suburbs.

I have a ton of great Kmart Pharmacy stories but my favorite is the kid who came to buy condoms. The kid had to be no older than fourteen and I am sure he was there on a dare. The condoms were behind the register and he came up and pointed to a box. He asked if he could purchase some of those. I then shouted “Oh you mean the rubbers.” I than rang him up and I stapled the receipt to the box. He asked if he could have a bag and I told him we were out. The Pharmacy was located all the way in the back of the store, so he had to walk all the way through the store with the box of rubbers and had to show Norma, the 80 something door greeter the receipt.

I worked with two pharmacists Sue and Joe. Joe was an older gentleman who was kind of like Mr. Gower. He was the old corner drug store Pharmacist and I equate 80% of the business we did on Joe. Everybody simply loved the old guy. He told great stories and I am truly grateful I got to work with him. I thought Sue was really cool at the time. She was the one who got me in the Pharmacy and was always encouraging me and buying me lunch. She even let me borrow her new car when my 78 Nova was not operating. Eventually we had a kind of falling out and I won’t go into details.

I also worked with Cele. She had to be in her 70’s but still “worked” at Kmart. Cele chain smoked Pall Mall’s and had that graspy old lady cigarette voice. Her favorite line to me was, “All you do is come in and flirt with all the girls.” That was true, and I rarely had a defense for it.

Since the Pharmacy was limited in the hours I could work, I backfilled in other departments to get some extra hours. When it was all said and done I worked in every department in that store except apparel, which had a different management structure.

The toy department was always chaos particularly in December. No matter what you did you could never keep the shelves from looking like a riot zone. I used to always have that “Toys headache” after working there. Domestic’s was the yarn section, which I knew nothing about. The Golden Girls Fan Club would come in asking me about yarn and I would bullshit to them the best I could. Working Hardware sucked because you had to mix paint. I ruined so many pairs of knock off Dockers that way.

I literally have a million stories from working there that time would never permit me to get into. I will have to share my favorite, however. I was working one night on the floor making my rounds. I then heard a 405 and a half page to Shoes come across the loudspeaker. A 405 and a half meant that all male employees where to drop what they were doing and report to the department that was included in the page. So, I drop what I am doing only to find my friends Chris and Wally had gotten there first. The security guard on call that night Ray, had made the page. It seems a young man was pleasuring himself with a shoe. As we pleaded with the man to stop he would not so we had to forcibly take him to the security office. He went kicking and screaming the whole way. He never even bothered to put his pants back on. So, as we literally dragged him his bare ass kept making this disturbing sound as we dragged it along the Kmart tile. The whole time his manhood was swinging in the breeze. It is an image that will haunt me to the day I die

Of course I made so many friendships at Kmart that this blog is not big enough to list them all. I joined the Kmart softball team and from that point on Kmart became a social gathering not a work place. I was in the store every night regardless if I worked or not. In six and a half years I called in sick only one time. That was how much I loved working there. Kmart corresponded with the greatest years of my life, the salad years.

It was right before adulthood and responsibility. My biggest concern was which party was I going to hit first on a Friday night. Kmart enabled me to make life long contacts and friends. I did not make huge money but I didn’t need a lot of money. The little money I made I used on cheap food and even cheaper beer. Looking back it is very hard to sum up those Kmart years. I was lucky to have had the experience to meet so many great people and make so many great friends. That would be the last job I ever worked at where I felt that way.

Enjoy Your Hallmark Holiday, You Sheep.

Happy Valentine’s Day. As I am sure this comes as no surprise I hate this saccharine induced pseudo hallmark holiday. The older I get the more bitter and resentful I get of this day. If you truly love someone you should not need some random date on a calendar to remind that person of your love. If you really do love that person they won’t need a reminder.

Valentine’s Day has always been a shit day for me. In 1989, I got stuck in this huge blizzard trying to get to work at Kmart. I took me an hour and a half to get to the Mart on a ride that normally takes at the most ten minutes. I get to the store and find that it is going to close in a half hour. My boss told me he called my house and told my mom I didn’t need to come in. Obviously this was way before cell phones. So, as soon as I got in I had to try to make my trek back home.

In, 1994 Valentine’s Day was the day I broke up with my long time girlfriend Jenny. I won’t go into the gory details and the breakup had been long overdue but it is funny how it all culminated on Feb. 14^th. These are just a few examples of the rotten times I have had on this day.

As for the present tense I guess I am lucky. I have someone to spend the day with and many do not. I am also lucky in that my wife also realizes that this day is bullshit. For the last couple of years we’ve spent Valentine’s Day at Chuck’s BBQ in Burbank with all of my friends.

We started the tradition as a way of thumbing our noses at the forced romanticism. So, our thinking is that we get everyone together, go to the least romantic restaurant we could find and have a good time despite the hallmarkiness of the day. Chuck’s loves us as we bring in about thirty people and Chuck even makes a special desert just for us. He also, lets us bring in our own wine. I went to the liquor store yesterday to stock up.

So, that is what Joyce and I will be doing tonight. I will have the chicken fried chicken, which is this deep fried chicken breast smothered in this rich southern gravy with mashed potatoes as the side. It is a heart attack on a plate and I only allow myself to eat it once a year. I have been dreaming of it for weeks. I will top that off with some Boone’s Farm or some other cheap wine to rinse my uncultured palate. If that doesn’t say Valentine’s Day I don’t know what does.

As a footnote, I want to tell Joyce Happy Valentine’s Day. I know spending the evening eating barbeque and drinking cheap wine with my drunken friends is not exactly her idea of a romantic night out. I appreciate her putting up with it and I want her to know that I owe her a nice meal at the restaurant of her choosing.

Read This Two!

It is time for a new book report so here are the last five books I’ve read.

1. Wrigley Blues by William J. Wagner – The book started out to be about the 2004 Cubs ascension from lovable losers to World Series champs. Of course as the season wore on the book's subject became something else. Basically, it is a story about a team that disintegrated. As a die-hard Cub fan it is sickening at times and brings back all the pain that was the 2004 Chicago Cubs season.

2. Gangsters and Goodfellas: The Mob, Witness Protection and Life on the Run by Henry Hill and Gus Russo – Being a huge fan of both the movie Goodfellas and the book Wiseguy I am very interested in the Henry Hill story. Not knowing much about what has happened to him the last 15 years or so, I decided to read this book. The first third of it is basically a re-telling of Wiseguy. Then, we find out just where they hid Henry. He had some re-lapses with drugs, divorced his wife and found the transition from a mob figure to Joe six pack somewhat difficult. An interesting read but was not as good as I thought it was going to be.

3. 8 Ball Chicks by Gini Sikes – A book about female gang members. As crazy as it is for men to join gangs it really boggled my mind why a woman would join one. I was hoping this book would answer that question for me. While the book has its moments overall it is a bit disappointing and does not shed much light on the subject. The writer visits several towns across the country and interviews female gang members. While there are some interesting stories in the book, there are not enough of them. Overall, I would have to label it a miss

4. If Loving You is Wrong by Gregg Olsen – This is the story of Mary Kay Letourneau. If you haven’t heard about her case by know I suggest you crawl out from under the rock you’ve been living in. This story has it all. The all American girl who had everything, throwing it all away to have sex and two children with a 12-year old boy. The book is a very good read and I was flying through it. I won’t rehash the story points but if you have any interest in this case this is the book to read.

5. Once a King, Always a King: The Unmaking of a Latin King by Reymundo Sanchez - This book starts off where My Bloody Life ends. The author slips back into gang activity and eventually goes to jail. It takes prison to scare him straight and he vows never to go back. He has his ups and downs but it seems like by the end of the book things finally work out for him as he is now married and not living in Chicago where the temptations were to great. I can not suggest both books enough.

In Limbo

The following is part two in a series of blog's reflecting on my 20 years of working. Every Thursday I will post about various points in my career.

After my time at White Hen ended, I spent the next year in a prolonged state of limbo. I had a different job every month and the little money I made I spent just as quickly. I learned a lot about myself in that year. Mainly, that I was not cut out for fast food. For my first post-Hen job was at Burger King.

Simply put, I hated it. It was located on 79^{th street}, just east of Harlem. I worked there for one whole week. It was a hot, greasy, and stinky place to work. I had to wear this brown polyester uniform with a nametag, which I simply hated. All I wanted to do was work the counter but I was told I would have to prove myself making burgers and fries before I could be trusted taking orders. So, being all of seventeen, I up and quit. No notice, nothing.

Next I got a part time job at the Bridgeview Park District. I got the job through a friend. Basically, I picked up bases after softball games, helped with the Haunted House, vacuumed the building and threw out a lot of garbage. It wasn’t a bad job but I didn’t get a lot of hours and I needed to move on to greener pastures. In March my luck would change.

There was a local mayoral election. The girl I was dating friend’s Step Dad was a town Councilman. He was running for re-election on the same ticket as the mayor. I was always hanging around his house since he had a pool table and the Playboy channel. He offered me a job handing out fliers and running errands during the course of the campaign. I took it. I made more money in a month and a half than I did the previous six months combined. I also got a first hand look at shady local politics. Again, there is a whole other blog in that story but I digress.

After the election I was officially out of a job again. Luck was again on my side as my Uncle was now running the Super America gas station on 95^th and Roberts Road. He offered me a part time gig there. I took it and basically I was cleaning tanks, sweeping and making signs. It was not the same as the Hen and my Uncle didn’t own the place. I had to work with this other manager who resented that I got the job based on nepotism. So, I started my search again after a month of taking her crap.

In June of 87 I got a job bagging groceries at Dominick’s on 87^th and Harlem. Again, I hated it. My personality is not suited to not moving around. I cannot stand being stuck in one place for an extended period of time. At Dominick’s I sat at the end of a checkout lane as a non-stop barrage of groceries came at me. There was a huge clock on my right and I swear it never moved. Every old blue haired bag in the area shopped there and bitched you out if you didn’t double bag. I was beginning to think I was the problem. After a month and a half I was ready to quit. So, I again began filling out applications.

I applied everywhere. Zayre, K Mart, KB Toy’s, just to name a few. In the mean time I got some extra money helping my girlfriends Uncle out. He was a handy man and he offered me extra cash to help him out from time to time. (He also would always go on a beer run for me.)

Looking back at my year in limbo, I smile. I was graduating high school and was more concerned with chasing skirts and having a good time than working or for that matter studying. Fortunately, in, August of 87 I would a call from Kmart that would change my life forever. More on that next week.

For Those About To Rock

Don’t have much to say today so here are my top 5 AC/DC songs. I have always felt that AC/DC is the most underappreciated rock band in history. The Bon Scott years of the band where simply brilliant with not a bad record in the bunch. Yes, the later years have taken a toll on them but I cannot tell you just how much I love all of their early records. So here goes.

1. Sin City – Early AC/DC song that simply rocks. I play every time right before I go to Vegas to get me in the mood.

2. Highway to Hell – Everybody says Smoke on the Water is the greatest opening guitar riff, but I disagree. As soon as you hear those opening chords to this jam, you can’t help but have a smile come to your face.

3. It’s a Long Way to the Top – Song was popularized by the great Jack Black in School of Rock, but I’ve been jamming to it for years. Rocking tune that starts off a very under-rated AC/Dc disc.

4. Shoot to Thrill – I am a Bon Scott guy but this is the best Bryan Johnson tune they had. Back in Black is AC/DC’s Goodfella’s and this is the tune that gets me going every time I hear it.

5. Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap – I admit it is overplayed and an obvious pick but damn it, I can’t help it this song rocks. An anthem in many ways.

I want to give an honorable mention to Thunderstruck. Yes, it is a silly song, and was made way after AC/DC jumped the shark but damn it I can’t help but turn up the volume when I hear that opening riff.

Nick's Super Bowl

I am back at work today after a joyous three-day weekend. All in all it was a very good superbowl. I of course had a good old time and yesterday was a much needed re-boot day.

I got to my friends Mike’s house at 5:00 on Sunday and the party was already in full tilt. I figured if I am going to drink it is best to get some food in my stomach. I headed to the kitchen and grabbed a chicken breast, some meatballs, my wife’s coleslaw, (I am required as all men are to eat my wife’s concoctions at these types of events. Fortunately, the slaw was pretty good.) I also had some taco salad, and a brownie. Plus, some ribs that were BBQ’ed later on.

I went to the liquor store earlier in the day. It is a ritual of mine to go to Bridgeview Liquors on Harlem every Superbowl. They have a pretty good-sized beer section so, I usually will take my time before I pick my brew. This year I notitced that Lacrose Lager was on sale so, I bought that. Lacrosse Lager is the original Old Style recipe. The Old Style you drink today is brewed in Texas and is a watered down version of Pabst. Lacrosse Lager is brewed in the same vats that Old Style used to be brewed in and it uses the same-patented kraeusening technology that Old Style used to use. It is quite tasty.

At the party my friend Ron was tending bar and mixing up Hurricanes and Zombie’s. Joyce had a couple hurricanes, which Ron made quite strong. We had strip cards going every quarter, which were being run by Mike’s son Ryan who is sixteen. Ryan won the first and second quarter so, the fix was obviously in. All in all I lost my ass, as I didn’t hit the strip card or the numerous squares I had.

There was a mean game of ship-captain-crew at half time. It is a dice game where the object is to roll, with five dice a 6-5-4 in that order and then the remaining two dice are your points. You have three rolls, and you go around the table once. If two people tie the whole table ties. We had a 50-cent pot up to over $12 bucks, which I am happy to report my wife won. With all of that excitement going on I missed Paul McCartney’s half time show which is all well in good as I’ve heard Hey Jude, just short of a million times.

The game itself was close and I was one of only two people rooting for the Patriots in the entire house. I tossed and turned all week with my rooting interest and after remembering how the Eagle fans booed McNabb when they drafted him decided that they did not deserve to celebrate. Philadelphia is the one town more miserable than Chicago when it comes to sports so, I say screw’ em. It was a nail bitter and overall a pretty well played game.

Afterwards we got some blackjack in and I won a couple of bucks playing that. I proceeded to get a little more inebriated as the night went on. I was celebrating the fact that I had Monday off and I really enjoyed myself. I took pictures of the entire playoff madness and posted them over at my yahoo photos section at: http://pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/nafran/album?.dir=721b&.src=ph&store=&prodid=&.done=http://

Into The Abyss

This month marks the 20^th anniversary of my introduction into the work force. That means I only have thirty more to go and maybe I can retire with some sanity left. It was February 1985 when I got my first job at my Uncle John’s White Hen Pantry on 87^th and Roberts Rd. I still have my first pay stub. I made $3.40 an hour and earned a whopping $26 dollars that first week. In twenty years I’ve worked at numerous places and met many, many people. In the ultimate example of vanity each week, I will use this blog to reflect on each one of those jobs. So on Thursday’s I will reflect back on my the job’s I have had in my 35 years on this planet. My first, being that at White Hen.

The Hen was a family affair as my Aunts Kathy, Angela, and Joanne all worked there. My Uncle owned the place so I was usually working with a family member on most shifts. I started with the Saturday morning shift. I was fifteen years old and I had to drag my carcass out of bed at 7:30 to make it in. I would usually catch a ride with my Aunt in the morning or I would ride my 10 speed in. Gradually, I was scheduled for Sundays and some weeknights. It was fun and I never really considered the Hen work.

While I wasn’t making tons of money, I was the king of the world. In 1985, twenty-five dollars to a fifteen year old is a lot of money. I didn’t have a car, didn’t have any bills nor did I pay rent. So, all my money was spent on discretionary purchases. This was before I had a cd player so; I bought a lot of cassette tapes and ate a lot of fast food.

My main job consisted of jockeying a register. This gave me my first interaction with the public. Looking back, I realize how important it was to have this at a young age. I firmly believe that all teens should have a part time job. It teaches the value of the dollar, and it teaches one how to interact with different people. Working the register was the easiest job at the Hen. I also had to run the lotto machine, fill the cooler and candy aisle and sweep up and mop. Also, since White Hen was a deli I made a lot of ham and cheese sandwiches in my time there.

Of all of these tasks, running the lotto machine was the worst. I hated it. People would come in, wait in a twenty minute line to blow their last five bucks on a billon to one chance on winning the lottery. I could never understand it and it explains why even today I still have never played the lotto. It was an assembly line and the customers were all bitchy blaming me personally if their numbers didn’t come in. My favorite customer was this asshole who came in on Sundays. Back then they only had the lotto drawing on Saturdays. So, this tool would come in first thing Sunday morning and purchase $100 dollars of lotto tickets for the following Saturday’s drawing. It was like the money was burning a hole in his pocket. I used to work with this guy Brian, and one day I said “Do you know that guy who buys all those lotto ticket’s on Sunday?” And he replied, “Oh, you mean Dickhead.” That would forever be his name. I would always volunteer to do any other task at the Hen to avoid that lotto line.

Filling the cooler was great. I could take my time and get away from the outside world in the intimacy of a 38-degree giant walk in fridge. Filling the cooler meant stocking milk, eggs, orange juice and a lot of soda. Running the deli sucked but at least I learned to make a sandwich. Slicing meat was a chore, but what the hell it was better than digging ditches.

We had a lot of usual customers, some of whom my Uncle is still friends with today. Plus, there were always Hickory Hills cops in the place drinking up as much free coffee as they could. You got to know all the bread drivers and the mailman. I could write a whole other blog on Jack the mailman, quite possibly the laziest, most perverted man to ever walk the planet.

Then there was the crazy lady. I am not sure of her story but damn was she off of her rocker. She smoked Virginia Slim Menthol Light 100’s. The reason I know this is that she would come to counter, sit there in silence, as I would ask her can I help you. She would stand there for a minute examining all the different cigarettes we had. And then as fast as she could she would blurt, Virginia Slim Menthol Light 100’s. If you didn’t know what brand it was you would never had been able to understand her. One day she came to my register pointed to my Uncle John and said and I quote “You see that man there, he is the type of man who would rip your arm off and gnaw at the bone.”

We had another lady who came in who would order two slices of American cheese, two slices of Krakus ham and she’d buy a whole loaf of bread. Call Bill Kurtis because what she did with the rest of the loaf is still a mystery.

All in all despite my encounters with the insane asylum fugitives, it was a great first job. I worked there from February of 85 until my Uncle sold the store in August of 86. It was a great year and half and I remember those days with fondness. Everybody has a first job and I am lucky to have a first job working with my family.

Don't Let The Door Hit You In The Ass On The Way Out

Either sometime as early as this afternoon or at the latest tomorrow an era in Chicago sports will come to an end. Sammy Sosa will be traded to the Baltimore Orioles. In return my lovable Cubs are getting a slap hitting utility man and two career minor leaguers. That is all you need to know to realize just how far this former icon has sunk.

In 1998 when Sammy was hitting 66 home runs it would have been un-imaginable that it would ever come to this. Sammy was perky, friendly, said the right things and had a public perception as high as one could get. In eight years that image has come full circle, and in the end Sammy has no one to blame but himself.

I take this personally, as I always defended the guy. For years as my jealous Sox fans friends would try to knock him down and I would back Sammy. It was easy to stnad up for him. He had the numbers, and Sox fans knew it. They were just mad that they once had him and traded him to the Cubs for next to nothing. I forgave the coming late to spring training every year. I forgave the home run hop. I looked past the sub par fielding. In 2003 when the corked bat incident happened, I let it slip. I knew he went to the plate with that bat on purpose but, I’m a Democrat and as such I believe in giving people second chances.

Last year was an unusual year in Cubdom as the Cubs were actually expected; now get this, to win. Well, the season unraveled right before our very eyes. They say you can only judge the true character of a man in times of despair. Well, if that is true than Sammy surely showed his true colors. He slumped all sulked all year. First he was out a month after sneezing. Then when he came back he went into a slump. He was striking out all the time. So, it was naturally suggested Sosa be moved down in the order, instead of taking it graciously, he bitched about it. You see, Sammy only and always only cared about Sammy. Numbers were his main concern. His teammates and winning were secondary.

So after the neutered Dusty Baker waited a month and moved Sammy down to 6^th in the order it was only after he got Sammy’s permission. God forbid we bruise his tender ego. The proper response for Sammy would have been to put his head down, start hitting the shit out of the ball and things would have taken care of themselves. Instead, Sammy never found it and in September, along with the rest of the team he really went in the tank.

The final day of the season was the last straw with not only me but apparently the Cubs as well. Sammy showed up at 12:45 for a one o’clock game. He then proceeded to leave in the second inning while his team was out there playing a game. After Dusty Baker called him out on it in the media, Sammy lied saying he left in the 7^th inning. The problem with that statement was the Cubs had him on tape in the parking lot leaving in the 2^nd inning. He offered a half assed apology a week later through his agent but by then the damage had been done.

It was at this point where I had to turn my back on Sammy. After all the years of sticking up for him, I felt betrayed. I was done. To borrow a line from my Grandmother, He was dead to me. It’s ironic in the same year we have the past star, Sandberg going to the hall of fame with class and dignity; we have Sosa the current Mr. Cub exiting in such disgrace. Of course Sammy will give a press conference in Baltimore blaming the media, the Cubs, Global Warming, anything other than himself. All of which is bullshit. In the end Sammy’s biggest problem has always been Sammy. He can take his thin skin and home run hop east. I wish the Oriole’s all the luck in the world. They are going to need it.

American Idiots

I am sorry but I have one more bitch on working this Saturday. It seems the new policy is you only get a comp day after two Saturday’s worked. Therefore, after staying here, putting up with all the nonsense, in the end I get nothing out of it. It is bad enough I don't get paid for Saturday's. Now, I don't even get the time for them. So, I ask what is my incentive for coming in working my ass off? That's right we are going to take away benefits, not add to them.

You see they way they look at it, I should be happy just to have a job. If I have to hear, "In this economy you need to be thankful you have a job at all" I am going to puke. Don't tell me these corporate fat cats don't love this Bush Prick. My bank donated millions into his campaign. Gee, why is that? Do you give up? That’s right so he can keep giving large corporations tax breaks. Trickle down economics does not work. The mere fact that the same people who vote for Bush are the very ones he is screwing over with his policies boggles my mind.

When the economy was going good, (you know the Clinton years) my company could not wait to give me perks. They knew with low unemployment it was essential to keep good people. So, they would reward you for doing extra. Throw us worker bee’s a bone every now and then. Then the economy took a shit (you know the Bush years) and we all have to take it up the rear for a fear of losing our jobs. The most maddening thing is that I know that for the next four years we are going to go deeper into debt and make things all that harder on the next generation.

For all those who are going to come at me with, “What would John Kerry have done to magically turn things around?" My answer is, I don’t know. In fact I am not even sure he would have turned things around. But, what I do know is that our current administration lied to us and led us into this quagmire. So, I want to thank Kansas, Ohio, Nebraska, Florida, Texas, Arizona and Georgia for being a red state. Next time you have to pay out of your own pocket for your kids prescription or work a 70-hour week just to make ends meet, remember you have only yourselves to blame. Just don’t blame Illinois we Kerry’ed