The Top 10 Reasons You Should Sleep With Me

I just thought that would be a funny name for this blog today 🙂 Apparently so did you because you got this far!  With that in mind, I thought for a moment of why it is that I have the friends I have. I’ve come up with some thoughts and so I share them with you now.

The Top 10 Reasons I Think I Have Friends Like You

10. I’m useful

9. I’m handy

8. I’m friendly

7. I’m willing to do just about anything

6. I’m entertaining

5. I’m funny

4. I’m knowledgeable (most of it useless, but I know a lot of Shit)

3. I’m fairly lucky

2. I’m morally compromisable  (which goes hand in hand with #7)

And the #1 reason I think you are my friend;

1. Oh hell this is crap anyway. I don’t care why you like me. I’m just grateful to have as many friends as I do. I’m thankful that out of all the people you could share your time on earth with, you chose to do so with me. I will give you this though….I am pretty fun to hang with 🙂

I like to think that I would do anything for a friend….the old saying…”A friend in need, is a friend indeed”. I believe this to be fact. I think by helping people we all become closer, if not for just a moment. Without a friend in need, sometimes I would just have to sit around my own house….what fun is that. I would rather go help build a deck, cut down a tree, dig a hole, fix a car, build a car. As long as I can do these things with a friend, my life will have some purpose…if not just for a day.

The title actually has some relevance….not about sleeping with each other, but getting to know each other. You see to me, you go through almost the same process when you meet a girl or a guy (with a slight difference)…am I attracted to this person, do they make me laugh, smile, are they entertaining, are they nice. Could I really spend the rest of my life with them (because that’s really the questioned that needs answered). I don’t think I’ve ever met a girl that once I’ve answered these questions, I didn’t think to myself, what if she is the one? I don’t think I’ve ever met a guy that I didn’t think…is he someone that I could watch a game with, have a few drinks with, build a deck with. If you can answer these things favorably, then the world just became a better place.

I go through this process every-time I meet someone, because you never know…you just might wake up the next day and find that you have just met  a new friend, a best friend, or the girl you want to spend the rest of your life with. So the next time you’re bored with nothing to do, lets build a deck….a friendship, a life!

Tim

By Tim

California Dreaming….

California Dreaming…Why I miss you, What I like and Why I’ll return.

Let me start by saying I love California! I love everything about it. The people, the beach, the smell and yes the traffic. Of these favorites though I love the smell of California. As you come into Orange County…Laguna Beach, San Clemente, San Onofre (Sano Beach) Camp Pendleton you pick up the warm smell of the air. It smells like a vase full of spring flowers, like wild weeds in a field, to me it smells like home…like a “girl” I know.

California is my “Heaven”. It’s where I became a man, it’s where I woke up to the sound of waves crashing against the golden sands. The beaches here are long, wide and the sand feels like powder beneath your toes. It’s a place where you can dream and if you dream hard enough, a place where you can be anything you want.

When I was in the Marine Corps we would get our weekends off, so long as we didn’t have any ops going on. My friends and I would take off Friday after being dismissed for the weekend and pile into a car and head off to our adventure that awaits. We would go to the beach, drive up and down the coast or go to the mountains. Whatever we’d do, it was always together and always us. People would say Jim and I looked a lot like brothers, so we’d play the part sometimes…especially if we were picking up girls. Jim had an old girlfriend back in Chicago and she was/is Italian with the matching last name. So where we would go, Jim and I would be brothers with this last name and we were from Modesto, California. Our father would own a small wine vineyard. We could play the rich kid easy enough…we would have just came back from a two or three-month op and would have a few paychecks sitting in our accounts (we wouldn’t think twice about blowing it all on an adventure…and sometimes did). This worked out for Jim and I on many occasion (part of the bad I once was).  You see living in Southern California you were right in the middle of America’s Playground. Within a few hours drive you could be in LA, San Diego, Mexico, Las Vegas or Lake Havasu. Where ever we would go, we’d make sure we were the center of attention…sometimes good…sometimes bad, but all times fun!

This one time in Lake Havasu, Me, Don and Ski (Don and Ski were also from Chicago) showed up on Memorial weekend with hardly any money between us. Only the clothes in hand and maybe one change of T-shirt (you could wear boardshorts for any occasion out there). Anyway, I let Don talk me into buying Old Style beer once we had stumbled onto a Walgreens (back then they were mostly in Chicago). If you ever tasted Old Style, well you just might stop drinking forever. We were driving my red AMC Spirit which Ski affectionately called “The Hat” because of its remarkable resemblance to a baseball hat.  We had driven the three hours through the desert without air-conditioning all the while drinking beer. When we arrived at the Crazy Horse Campground, we only had enough money to pay for primitive camping…seeing that we didn’t have a camper or a tent, I thought  it would suit us just fine. The landscape of the Arizona Desert was mostly sand and very hilly…even mountainousness. To get to our “primitive camp spot”, I had to drive down this steep trial across the washed out riverbed  and up an equally steep hill…in “The Hat”. As you can guess we didn’t quite make it up the hill…the first time.  I backed down and got back to the top of the other hill from once we had just came. I then looked and Don and Ski who had that somewhat worried look on their faces…you know the look, it’s the one you had the first time you saw Wylie Coyote strap that ACME Rocket to himself. I said hang on and floored it. We hit the bottom of the hill and bottomed out The Hat a few times; still with my foot on the floor we bounced and bucked our way to the top ( The Hat would never be the same). Once on top we parked got out, drank a beer to the 100’s of campers (college students) cheering for us. Later on we had decided that no one else was up here, so we drove back down to the crowd. None of us would have imagined that we would have become the hero’s that we were  because such a crazy stunt. That was the first time I realized, with $10 in your pocket, a little crazy in your brain and not much to lose…you can drink for free all weekend and solve your problem of where to sleep.

My life would never be the same! 

Tim


By Tim

Music Will Change Your Soul

Since I was a child, music has shaped who and what I am.

I would have to say it started when my brother Terry use to play “Name That Tune” with my siblings and neighborhood kids. It was 1974 or 1976, somewhere around there. We would sit in a small room that was my brother’s. Terry had more records and albums than anyone I knew, he had everything. We would sit there as he put records on the record player and compete for Monopoly money. I was hooked!

He would play the songs and we would have to guess what and who….just like the old TV Game Show…”Name That Tune”. We would listen to songs like The Bay City Rollers’ Saturday Night, Sweet’s Fox On The Run,  Aerosmith’s Dream On, Cheep Trick’s I Want You to Want Me, Surrender …you name it Terry had it. At the end of the game we would get to go head to head for 60 seconds and try to guess as many songs as we could. Sometimes we would play this over and over again and again for the whole day.

I had a good friend tell me that music is my therapy. I never thought about this before that day, I now believe this to be true. I use it to help me cry, to laugh. I use it to make me feel alive, I use it when I’m in love or when I just need excitement. The words in music speak to me. I realize my close friends don’t understand my musical tastes, because sometimes they look at me like I’m crazy. My musical taste though have expanded beyond that of Clyde (where I grew up) and Fremont, Ohio, away from AC/DC, Led Zeppelin and  Lynyrd Skynyrd (although I still listen once in a while).

The first year I spent in the Marine Corps my roommate was Rick Chirigotis. Rick was a Marine from Simi Valley, California. If you’ve ever seen the movie “Valley Girl” (1983) (gag me with a spoon), then you know exactly where Rick grew up (and still lives near by). It was Rick who expanded my musical taste…from the first day we met. I came into his room and dropped my gear (sea bag…clothes,for the non knowing) and sat down in the chair only to hear “Hey, get off my Depeche Mode tape” in a high squeaky “Valley Tone” voice. Only later to find out that I would have been just as mad if that had happened to me. Rick taught me the likes of the aforementioned Depeche Mode along with; The Cure, The Clash, The Smiths, Echo and The Bunnymen, New Order, Oingo Boingo, OMD (Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark) and The Pixi’s. It was from there I learned of groups that changed my life; The Sex Pistols, Black Flag, Dead Kennedy’s, Suicidal Tendencies (from my friend Don Franz). I knew now that my life would never be the same without music. It was from here that led me to the whole LA underground scene. To the Whiskey A Go-Go and The Roxy and back-ally underground clubs that would be there one week and gone the next.

Music will change your soul, if you let it in. My go to music right now is Linkin Park. The vocals of Chester Bennington and rhymes of  Mike Shinoda reach into my soul with lyrics like;

And when I close my eyes tonight
To symphonies of blinding light
God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
Like memories in cold decay
Transmissions echoing away
Far from the world of you and I
Where oceans bleed into the sky

As I hear these words echo in my mind, I wonder to thoughts of …past relationships, to where the world might be heading, to the things I’ve done, to the things I haven’t and to the changes in me that’s made me the man I am.

Music is a Date Stamp in my head. You name a song and I will tell you what I was doing when I heard it. The next time you hear music that is new to you, don’t turn the dial. Stick around and listen, listen to it as though your life depended upon it. Let it reach into your soul. It just might change your life forever, it just might save your life!

Tim

By Tim

To All the Women I’ve Scorned Before

A Story of self discovery, regret and remorse. My first thought was not to publish this, rather hide it away…lock it away. But much like an alcoholic faces his sins, I too must face mine.

The names have been changed to protect the Guilty, namely me. 

Hi my name is uuhh…. Eric. Let me start by saying I’ve never set out to intentionally hurt someone but I know it has happened along the way. I know this because I’ve been on the other side myself. For all these things I’ve done and will do, I apologize. This Blog will not be about you or anyone that you will know and happened mostly while I was in the Marine Corps in a land far far away. I would hope that you do not think differently of me when you are finished…I am neither proud or happy about what you are to read.

I offer my apologies.

I’m sorry to; Lisa, Sammy, Christy, Lorna, Cassie, Lori, Kelly, Tammy, Candi (with an “I” as she called herself) (that one I didn’t change), Cindy and the two girls in Palm Springs (I don’t think I ever got your names).  I know I missed a few and I apologize…twice. The funny thing here is (if you know me), all these girls were Blonde. Not that I really set out to choose the color of the hair in which I was/I’m attracted to, but most of the girls I’ve dated in my life were Brunette (some self discovery there). Not that I’m not attracted to Blondes…I am! I love you! Anyway, I’m sorry for the things I’ve said or didn’t say, the things I’ve done or didn’t do. It was long ago and I was (still am to some extent) a Man Child. I’m sorry that while we were together, be it brief or even shorter that I didn’t treat you like the person you were…are.

You said that you like the bad boy that I was. I would bet though that you were not as committed as I was to that process. You see that being a young Marine stationed in Southern California (and in probably the best physical and mental (some would say cocky) shape of your life…and most others) you instinctively develop an attitude that is alarmingly without remorse. To give you an idea of what this would be like…Try giving your child (or a child) an unlimited supply of cash and turning him/her lose in/on a Candi (with an “I”) Store (pun…intended). This might give you a glimpse into the bad that I once was. Now you know why I write this Blog. When I started out to write these tragic thoughts down, it was to be a satirical look back on my dating life. Something that I thought would be amusing. What I found is that I am disgusted at the person I once was. I hope that I have come along way from that person. Some of you readying this I know may not agree and I’m sure I have work to do.

To say that I am sorry would be an understatement and unfortunately I cannot take these things back. I can only say this….to all you women out there who want that “Bad Boy” be careful of the things you wish for. You might just run into the 80’s version of me. I didn’t break the law (that often). What I broke more than anything though was a trust, a heart,  the honor of knowing you for a moment in time. I will and have made this promise to you and I will continue to live by this creed. The day that I become fortunate enough to earn that trust, that honor of a heart again, I will proceed with respect, honor and love. These things that I did not possess in a time when I didn’t know the meaning (nor did I care) of them.

For all of you who have fallen victim. If it’s any consolation, “karma” has really bit me in the ass lately!

For all these things I am truly sorry.

Eric….uhhh Tim

By Tim

Have You Seen My Daughter with My Credit Card?

My daughter showed up at my work this morning and asked me for my credit card. She never returned. Now before you call out the Police, let me say that she just had a doctors appointment and I didn’t have cash in hand. This made me start to think about how much kids actually cost.

You see my oldest daughter Danielle lives with me. Danielle is a beautiful teenager of 17 years (in about a week). She is one of two beautiful offspring that I’ve been happy to produce (that may be another blog at a later date). I was trying to figure out where the hard earned money that I had work for had gone. I’ve come up with this summation; I have a teenage daughter! When Danielle came to live with me two years ago I thought to myself, what am I going to do with all this extra money I will have from not paying child support? Well Danielle had an answer to that.

This is prom season. Only god knows why she wants to buy her wedding dress now ( its not really a wedding dress nor does it look like one but in my mind the cost is very similar). Apparently “The Prom” is as important to a teenage girl as “The Wedding” is to a grown women. Now those of you who have read my first Blog “What Tim Doesn’t Know about Women” this would come to no surprise. Something else that came as a big surprise is that you just can’t go to J.C. Penny and pick one out. You see throughout my life if I needed anything from underclothes to t-shirts to a suite, my mom always took me to J.C. Penny. Little did I know that wedding dresses…er…”Prom Dresses” now come from PromGirl.com. Look it up…I had to. What did my sister do when she was in high school with out “Prom Girl” ?

Children have a hidden cost that we all pay. It starts when they are young and I would guess we pay that cost until the day we leave this earth. The cost I speak of is our heart. You know this cost if you have children, we feel this cost the first time we see them in the delivery room. We feel this cost with their first cry, steps, and tooth. We feel this when they go to school, when they come home from school holding that first “A”. We feel it when they win or lose, when happy or sad. We see this cost with their first car and feel it when they drive off and when they return. The cost is a skipped beat, a tear, a sigh. Its fear that will they make the right decision, did I. Is that a safe car, is she going somewhere to far.

I’ve learned this in the 17 years of having children. I will never know all I can know about them. My best advise is to love them with every oz of energy you have. Worry about them all day and teach them the things your parents taught you. Show them the world if you can and teach them even more. If you’ve done these things, you have to let them live. Let them live and hope they have taken a little of these things in. But most of all be there when they fall, when they get hurt, when they need someone and even when they need a “Prom Dress”.

Tim

By Tim

While I drink Miller Lite

I figured I’d write about my second favorite topic “Beer” or more precisely “Miller Lite”. Although Miller Lite isn’t the new popular micro-brews, the hippest of beers or does it go well with the finest of dinning, I thought I’d write about what “My Miller Lite” goes well with.

My Miller Lite goes well with Friendships. I’ve had and have lots of friends over the ages. Some are still with us and some have gone to a better place. Some have just moved on and some are beside me daily. One thing we’ve always had in common is Miller Lite and our love for a good time.

Things I’ve done with Miller Lite. I’ve done the good and the bad, the legal and crossed the border and back. I’ve loved, hated and wrecked cars. I’ve celebrated, cried, dreamed and got married once. But most of all I’ve met people. People with interesting stories and some with not. These people that share their stories, their stories of life, our lives, is why I write today. It’s why I want to share my story.

It’s about a friendship… my friend Lee. We didn’t meet until High school, 10th grade English to be exact. I was a somewhat popular kid with mostly more popular friends (I rode on the coat tails) and Lee I really didn’t know (not to say everyone else didn’t know him). It was a Friday with nothing to do, so I asked him if he wanted to go out and go to the Football game or maybe it was a Basketball game (the downside of Miller Lite…memory loss). I had picked up some beer on my way to his house and as he climbed into the car I handed him one. He hadn’t drank beer but maybe just to taste it before this night. Me, I was an old pro…so I thought. Time would discover that I was not the man I thought myself to be. We drank the 12 pack as we rode around and went to the game. On our way home, we took turns getting sick from the ill effects of over indulgence. There were times we drank our beer and talked about girls, life and even the time I fell off the back of his Honda V35 magna. It hurt, but I’m sure nowhere near the time we hit the guardrail at the end of Tempe Rd in my dad’s brand new Chevy S10 pickup truck and Lee bit through his tongue (I was driving). There was the time we were on old stone road when we were seniors and all the girls were with us. When we were leaving Lee was hanging out the window yelling at the girls behind us and me driving from the passenger seat; driving us right into the ditch that would cost me $20 to the farmer that pulled us out, only to find out later that Lee’s knee hit the stirring wheel that made us venture off road.

Through all this and what was to come, a friendship was born that would stand the test of time. The time I spent in the Marine Corps and came back to find him still here for me, the time of my marriage when we didn’t have time for each other. The time through my inevitable divorce when we drank instead of cried. The times when he helped me yet once again fix a car, fix a lawn mower, fix a furnace (last night), and to the many times he will be there for me in the future.

So whether you drink my favorite Miller Lite or not, raise your glass and toast to friendships born that last a lifetime. If you don’t have a friendship like this, then venture into your local bar, pub, tavern or English class and talk to someone new. It just might last forever.

Tim

By Tim

What Tim Doesn’t Know About Women

This is my first Blog and maybe my last. I can tell you (but will not need to as you read on) that I am no literary genius. I murder the English language, both verbally and written at a rate that is nothing if not alrming. With that disclaimer aside, I thought for my first Blog I should write about my favorite topic; “Women”. So appropriately titled “What Tim doesn’t know about women”. I can tell you this with total certainty. It’s a whole lot! It would be much easier to tell you what Tim does know about women.

This is what I know;

Women are beautiful creatures, every damn one of you. There’s something about each of you. A curve here a curve there. A smile, a smirk the way you wear your hair, the way you walk, talk and sleep.  Your neck, shoulders, stomach,belly button, that spot right above your hip bone that is so soft it reminds me of rubbing my fingers across the silk end of my electric blanket when I was a kid.. To say that one women is more beautiful than the other is like saying that Brian Johnson is better than Bon Scott (AD/DC for the non-knowing). I like to quote my friend Hank Moody (not a friend more a character on Showtime’s “Californication” that I’ve been told slightly resembles my persona). “I love all you women, there hasn’t been a women I’ve met that I didn’t fall in love with whether for 10 minutes or 10 years”. You really are my life’s work. I believe this to be true and thus I’ve adopted this belief to be my own.

Women are the opposite of me. I would say men here but I think not all men, I just know opposite of me. I think some men get women. At least I think they do. I see them, the men who seem happy, who seem content. I say the opposite of me and this is my example to support such a theory. My history thus far is this; if I “like” a woman she either hates me or loves me. If I “love” a woman, she either likes me or hates me. Its a simple theory but I’ve know this to be true. Most of the time though I find myself at the wrong time in life when the woman “I get” comes around.

Women can be good friends…at first. Then what happens is (read “I like to quote my friend Hank Moody” above) you guessed it. I fall in love.  I’m a firm believer that men and women cannot remain friends (with me).  The reason behind this tidbit is this…either you were never in love or you still are.  I may write (explain) about this another time.

Women are difficult to understand. They say one thing but mean another. They ask questions that they never want an answer too. They want us to figure them out but don’t give us the instruction booklet.

I would end this first attempt at a blog by saying this. I know nothing of women except the women I’ve met. I understand them even less to be more accurate. But I know this to be true; if you are fortunate enough to find one that gets you and you get her…well you are a lucky person. I had one once and as you can tell from my writing…I didn’t know what to do with her.

Good bye until the next time…if there is a next time. Good luck, keep your head high and your spirits even higher. Drink when you can, love as often as you can and try to smile. If you are anything like me, you can’t wait for the next “10 minutes or 10 years”

Tim

By Tim