....and to think that they had to cut down trees to make the toilet paper that we threw up into the trees.....

This one takes us WAY back....

I was NOT the popular kid back in high school. I got a multitude of shit for being different, and it was mostly unpleasant to say the least....but in retrospect, it almost makes me feel honored at this point....but that's another story.

There were a LOT of trees in my family's front and back yards....and for some reason, during my sophomore year, it seemed like a weekend wouldn't go by without some jerkoffs toilet-papering the trees. After this happened a few times, I grew tired of it....and it just so happened that I heard through the grapevine who was behind these toilet papering shenanigans. I aimed to retaliate!

So...I got a couple of my friends together, and we went to the grocery store and bought....well, a SHITLOAD of toilet paper. The funniest part was, when we went to pay for it, my friend Dan said to the lady behind the cash register, "Um.....yeah.....we all REALLY have to GO!" Ahahahahahaha!!!!!!

This douchelord who was the target of my wrath lived on the outskirts of town, in a fairly heavily-wooded area. PERFECT! And nobody was home. EVEN BETTER!!!  

We papered the entire area around this crankjob's house with meticulous artistry!!!! And none of us could hold back our laughs as we did so. It was fucking hilarious!!! I can see, now, why those shaft sanders had so much fun in MY yard! HAhahahaha.

The best part, though, was running back to my friend's car, and driving by, to examine our handiwork. It was gorgeous! All of that toilet paper, waving in the trees like ghosts in the breeze! It still warms my heart to think about it!

Anyway....please don't squeeze the Charmin!

Are you happy, now?!!! How about....now?!!! Or.....NOW?!!!! or Some Fast Food For Thought

"Every time I think of happy I think of h-a-p-p-y. It's a funny word. I think of slaphappy. What's happy? There are feelings of well-being and comfort and peace, love, of feeling assured. I guess I was happy the day I got my Tome Mix cowboy spurs when I was six years old -- but on that same day my great-grandmother died, so..." - Al Pacino, Playboy Interview, December, 1996

I remember reading this when I was working at the Greyhound Bus Station, back in WisCONsin, a few years before I split to New York City. It really opened my eyes up, because I could relate to what he said 100%!

I remember being at my dad's funeral when I was 7-years-old, right? It just so happened that my new best friend was having his birthday party on the same day. After the service at the church, everyone gathered for refreshments or whatever in the church basement. And my Mom asked my sister-in-law if she would drive me to the birthday party. Her line of thinking was, "The funeral is over-with, so why does he have to hang around? He might as well go and have some fun with his new friends...." So, of course, I went to the party in my little suit & tie, and ate cake & ice cream, and I think I even talked about my dad a little bit with my friend's mom. You, know, it was alright. I think that, in hindsight, it was extremely cool of my Mom to have me go to that party.

Was I happy?  Probably not, but...I  probably laughed a lot. And....THERE's the rub!

But, essentially, what Pacino is saying, and I'm sort-of echoing, is that....for many of us, happiness seems to happen according to whatever the last thing is that happened.  I stubbed my toe....so I'm pissed....but, then a friend said something hilarious....so now, I'm happy! That's usually how every day goes for me. I have some wild mood swings every now and then, but I've never really found any sort of sustainable happiness, I don't think. But, with that said, I've found EVEN LESS sustainable UNhappiness. And I think that's probably the whole point, at the end of the day. If you find yourself feeling more good than bad, when it all boils down, you're probably coming out ahead.  I guess, it's all relative and subjective...and up to each of us as individuals, according our own experiences in life and our consequential perspectives, to suss out the difference.

It's funny, though. I know rich people who are miserable, and poor people who seem happy, and vice versa. I know married people who are happy, and some definitely not so much, and ditto for single people. I know happy drunks, and I know sober people who make me want to jump off a bridge. I know successful people who are thrilled as all HELL with their accomplishments, and those who don't appreciate anything...even themselves and their own hard work. I know people who have had some awful, traumatic shit happen in their past, who seem to have gained some kind of peace with it, and people who at least claim to have had smooth-sailing all the way who are totally lost. I've certainly seen content people who have struggled all their lives and and I've seen people with diamond-encrusted golden spoons for miles who are incorrigible at best. So, in summation, there's absolutely no blueprint!

(Now, granted, nobody REALLY knows what has happened in someone's past, no matter WHO they are or WHERE they came from...not to mention that nobody has a right to judge). 

So, money doesn't buy happiness (but I'll take it). Marriage & relationships certainly don't, necessarily (but the right ones will certainly help, if you can find them). So what is it? Drugs and alcohol? Nope. Big parties, every night? Hell no. (Not that there's anything inherently wrong with any of those things, either). 

Is it about having great people close to you? Now we might be onto something with that, for sure, at least in my case. No matter how many friends you have, what really matters is that the people close to you are real, and there for the right reasons...and for you be the same way to them. I've been extremely lucky in that regard, and hope my friends feel that they have been with me. Not everyone might agree that having people close to them contributes to their happiness, but...I just can't relate to that, and I'm someone who needs my alone time as much as the next guy. Love and understanding rank highly with me.

I also think that it's just as important to feel inspired, engaged, and moving forward with your hopes, dreams and aspirations, and to feel like you have some kind of place carved out in the world, and that you are moving forward....or at least that's important to me, for sure!  And these things can evolve and change over time. Hell, part of growing is about finding new interests, new ambitions, and new talents....and new ways to apply your knowledge and experiences that you rack up all the time. I don't know if it's this way for everyone, but, again...for me, it's unquestionable.

When you sift through all of the bullshit, I think it's about self-awareness and how that coincides with the reality of this fucked-up world around us. And I think that the more time goes on, and the more rapidly the world changes, the more often it is demanded of us to adapt....and sometimes, that's a large pain in the ass. But, what are the options? Few, at best?

There's another conundrum that occurred to me the other day. I hope that we aren't faced with just two choices; to either wind up being jaded, cold, and callous.....or in a perpetual state of arrested adolescence?!  Shit, if given that choice, clearly, I'd choose the latter, but I hope that perhaps we can come up with something better than that!

I don't have any answers.....just more and more questions. If anything, I'm just thinking aloud, trying to make sense of everything that brought me to where I'm sitting right this very moment. 

But....you know, it's not bad....not bad at all.

Bundle up, everyone.....

Welcome To the Concrete Jungle....or.....My First Night Out On the Town in NYC!

All of you who know me know that I know my way around the big city, & that I've had my share of late, late nights...but that I generally am able to keep my shit together.  (I'm knocking on wood as I write that, hahahaha).

This was not always the case, and I'm going to tell you a funny story to illustrate that.

It was approximately a year before I moved into town. I had never, ever been to New York City in my life, and knew nothing about it, aside from what I read about 10 times in PLEASE KILL ME. I had flown here with my good friend Dan (my oldest friend from back home, for lack of a better term). We crashed at his sister, Julie's apartment on the Upper West Side. (Julie would later become my sort-of "Rock n' Roll big sister" when I was a new kid in town, for which I am eternally grateful). We had a big dinner and a few beers the first night we were here....but we couldn't wait to get our asses out to the East Village/Lower East Side to....immerse ourselves in the perceived coolness that was there. 

Yeah, right.

So, we got on the Subway Train and went downtown, not really knowing what the hell we were doing or where the hell we were going, but knowing that we wanted to hit Coney Island High and the Continental, etc. I'm sure that we looked just as clueless as we were at the time. I think we went to the Continental first, and had a couple of Heinekens and shots of Jagermeister (my combo of choice at the time. Yuck!), and probably very obviously ogled at the girls there, etc, whom I'm certain took no notice of us. I hope not, anyway, hahahahaha!!!

Anyway, we headed around the corner to Coney Island High, and the dude at the door (who was that?) said that there were psychedelic bands playing upstairs, or some shit. That was good enough for us, so we headed on up, ordered ourselves another round, and checked out the band, whoever it was.

Soon, we started getting a little bit drunk, when some attractive black-haired girl started talking to me. I should have known from the start that it was too good to be true, and that I was being played, but I was much younger and more naive, let alone a stranger in a strange land. It probably didn't help that I mentioned that I didn't live in NYC....I think I recall her response being something along the lines of, "No shit!"

Pretty soon, this chick started dancing with her arms around me, and, of course, I thought that I had hit the jackpot! I was probably thinking, "Party time in NEW YORK!! I think I LIKE this place!!!"

She was dancing behind me, while, I suppose I was waving my hands in the air like I just don't care, or something to that effect. And I didn't....until I felt her hands around my waist...unbuckling my BELT!!!  To make matters worse, this chick started pulling my PANTS down!  

Luckily enough, even in my advanced state of refreshment, my reflexes were sharp enough that I was able to fight her off without being disrobed and/or overexposed, the operative term being, "Listen, you crazy bitch, leave me the fuck ALONE!"

And of course she looked at me with her faced crumpled with disdain, and yelled, "FINE, BE THAT WAY!" before she and her friend walked out the door. It was then that I noticed Dan laughing his ass off.  I re-buckled by belt, and probably suggested that he shut the fuck up, and come with me to the bar to get another beer!

Before long, we walked over to Bleecker Street Bar for some reason, and continued with the merriment, and basically had a good time...albeit less eventful.

But the story doesn't end there!

We decided it was about time to head back to Julie's place....at GOD know's what time, but I suspect it was close to NYC's bar time of 4am. We grabbed the Subway to head back to the Upper West Side. I guess somewhere along the way, the booze and energy of the Big City got the best of me....because the next thing I knew, I was being nudged awake by this little Hispanic Good Samaritan Dude who was sitting next to me (thank you, Sir, whomever and wherever you may be). I looked around, and Dan wasn't THERE! Dude said that he had left!

In other words, I had passed out during the train ride, and Dan walked off the train, apparently assuming that I was walking behind him. He didn't notice that I was sitting there catching up on some much-need rest until he was off the train and the doors had closed! 

I was scared shitless, because I I was drunk, alone, and didn't know my way around to save my life. So, I did the only thing I could think of TO do, and I got off the train, grabbed a payphone, and called Julie (whose #, luckily, was in my pocket. I had no cellphone yet).

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM OR WHAT THE FUCK TO DO!!!" I exclaimed, as I heard Dan laughing his ass off (AGAIN) in the background. 

She told me, between guffaws, to just jump in a cab and have it drop me off on the corner by her building. 

"Oh....well.....ok, then!" Simple enough, right?

When I walked through her door, we decided that, in light of the hilarity that we had experienced that night, just one more round of Heinekens was in order, despite my exhausted state.

CHEERS!!!!

It seems so long ago.....yet it doesn't....you know what I mean?