Happy Valentines Day

Maybe it is my age and lack of enthusiasm. Plus, in my line of work, holidays mean work. Good money, but work. After all these years though I do believe it is a day to commemorate the love shared between two people. I notice when I waitress on these days, it is always the newlyweds who sit and make kissy face in the booth. The older couples are rather different. The wife usually orders for both of them, because she has been married to the man for so long, she knows what he eats better than he does. I love it when I ask a man how he wants his steak cooked and his wife answers for him. The man just shakes his head and nods "yup". Those couples don't make too much of a fuss, but the love is just visible, the smiles and tears are etched in the lines of their worn faces. I don't think Hallmark has come up with a card to summarize that many years with another human being. There simply aren't words. Happy Valentine's Day.

Here comes the sun

Waiting for the sun to rise on the lake
wondering what today will bring with this particular sunrise
Tears? Laughter? The possiblilites are endless
I like to think so anyhow
It is my motivation to face a new day
Hope comes in many forms
Mine is in the early am
The silence
Staring at the barely moving water outside my balcony
gives me encouragement
At least it is moving
and not stagnant

Waitressing rant

For the first time in almost 20 years of waiting tables I am finding myself struggling in this new southern climate. The customers like me. Today one of the girls was sick, so instead of leaving at 1:30, I stayed til 4pm. No biggie. Around 3:30 I had a massive allergy attack. I was at a table and got that dry tickle in your throat that just won't go away, which also makes your eyes run. My boss sits in front of a monitor, that has audio and video. He listens to everything. The way you speak at a table, what you say to the other staff. Nothing is sacred. I am disregarding how I personally feel about that because I like the job itself. Anyhow, boss man waits about 10 minutes of watching me choke and hack before he comes out on the floor so I can exscuse myself to go to the ladies room. Than at the end of my shift he told me that what I did was very unsanitary. WTF, I was the only one there. I always cough into my sleeve so I don't cough into my hands. As soon as he came out on the floor I did what was appropriate and swallowed a spoonful of honey and powdered my nose and washed my hands. There is something very unsettling about knowing that everything I say and do is being recorded, audio and video. I paid off the balance of my back support issue so I now have nothing hanging over my head. I am at the point where I am starting to realize that I do have a data entry certificate and have other skills. The owner told me that the staff is not allowed to talk about anything unless it is work related. In all my years I have never experienced serving in this type of environment. It is making me feel like a personal failure, yet I know I am good at what I do. The customers love me, which is the main reason I go to work. I wait on tables because I enjoy seeing pleasure in the eyes of guests as they finish a meal they find delightful. Period. So now when I go to work I will make a point of speaking to noone and just doing my job and going home. Big Brother is alive and well in the work environment and it gives me the fucking creeps.

Winning battles vs winning the war

I now know why there isn't world peace. We are supposed to be a global group of intelligent, educated people. There is no reason we all can't come to a table and come up with resolutions. Than it hit me. I have an 18 year old that is intelligent and educated. He and I sit down at a table and wind up in a losing propostition. He hold his ground, won't concede. I beg, barter and plead. I offer reasonable solutions. Granted he doesn't have the maturity and wisdom of certain world leaders. So the battle goes on. I wonder if the same kinds of conversations happen on a global scale? Peace begins at home, and many of us can't manage to attain that. If we can't have mature conflict resolution in our homes how can we have them outside of our homes? I do thank God that the people we vote for and place our confidence in are not 18. They are physical men, but many still have the maturity of 15 year olds. At 18 you fail to see the big picuture. Winning the war. The small battles are what they are worried about. I have no room to talk. I didn't "get it" til my late 30's-early 40's. It took many trials and tribulations to get to where I am today. I sincerely hope that the powers that be have more maturity and wisdom than my brilliant 18 year old.

Sometimes sorry just isn't enough

After meny years shared between people there are bound to be hurtful incidents. We learn to forgive and move ahead. Insanity is defined as repeating the same things over and over again and expecting different results. Maybe I am insane. I did something stupid today. I made a poor choice. Nothing major, but I did go against my other half's wishes. Turns out he was right and I was wrong. I am sorry. I am pleading my case to a deaf ear. Granted he does suffer from mental health problems and I have learned to live with them. I, too, have some issues that aren't easy to live with. I make mistakes. I can't undo the choice I made, ( it had to do with moeny)) but I do feel like a fucking idiot and wish I could reverse the choice. I can't. I am sorry and feel like a shit. I loaned a certain person money which went against his wishes, as he questions her character and motives. He was right. I was used. It wasn't about the sum of money, $50, but the fact that he feels disrespected, and that his voice doesn't mean a damn thing. Plus, right now he is feeling rather useless, whereas I am thriving at this new job. I wake up with a sense of purpose everyday. I am now the main "breadwinner" in the house, which I think he is having a hard time dealing with. Any money that comes in this house is our money. Still, I believe it bothers him. So he exerts control in other issues. I am intelligent enough to realize that he does this so he can feel like he has some control and that we have balance. Still, tomorrow is my first day off and we are going to bed not speaking. I hate that more than anything. Life is short and you never know if you are going to wake up. The only strength I will get tonight is when I pray to God to make me a stronger and better person. I am human and I do make mistakes.

Another frozen corpse

We must constantly inundate the public with these stories. Remind people that there are people freezing to death daily in our country. The pen (keyboard) is a mighty weapon. Spread awareness! Donate blankets, old clothes whatever you can to your local homeless shelters to help those less fortunate stay warm. I know I have an old coat in my closet that someone could use. Please, if you are able, do what you can. People should not be freezing to death in the United States of America in 2009.

FROZEN HOMELESS MAN WHO’S CORPSE LAY UNCLAIMED IN ABANDONED DOWNTOWN DETROIT WAREHOUSE FOR WEEKS IS FINALLY IDENTIFIED…he was laid off 56 year old River Rouge steelworker Johnny Redding
Posted in Uncategorized by gangbox on the January 30, 2009
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from the DETROIT NEWS:


Friday, January 30, 2009
To family, frozen man was JohnnyCharlie LeDuff / The Detroit News

Detroit EMS, fire department and police crews attempt to extract the body from the elevator shaft Wednesday. (Ankur Dholakia / The Detroit News)





DETROIT — The man frozen at the bottom of an abandoned elevator shaft was indeed somebody’s child.

For the record, her name was Orlene.

For the record, his name was Johnny. Johnny Redding.

Redding met his Maker about a month ago, authorities surmise, when he was either pushed or fell down the shaft and came to rest in five feet of water. The weather turned blue, and Redding would become encased in a vault of ice, his shoes and shins protruding out.

The world became shocked to learn that people knew that Redding lay below and yet carried on with their own games and grievances, not bothering to inform the authorities. Eventually, someone with a heart called this reporter. Once located, two dozen police officers and firefighters working with chainsaws and guide rope extricated the body.

A wallet was found on the corpse. The identification told investigators the barest of facts. John Redding. 56-years-old. City of residence: River Rouge.

They know little else. Whether his was death by misadventure or by the hand of another man remains a mystery.

“He is still too frozen to even take fingerprints,” said Vanessa Denha-Garmo, spokeswoman for the Wayne County medical examiner.

The address in the wallet leads back to the small Cape Cod in River Rouge, once owned by his mother and now owned by his brother Homer, who along with his sister, Lillian Warren, identified the body this evening.

Homer Redding, 59, was saddened but not surprised by his little brother’s death. According to him, Johnny was a soft-hearted man who fell into a hard world and could never extricate himself from it, no matter how hard he tried. Johnny was infected with the need for drugs and alcohol. Rundown buildings were his clubhouse.

“He chose the life for whatever reason,” Redding said. “But he wasn’t homeless. Please don’t call him homeless. He always had a place to go. He was loved.”

Johnny Redding, according to his brother and sister, was one of those men who bounced from odd-job to couch to the homeless mission and back. He lived with his mother in River Rouge, the same house he was raised in until she died two years ago.

It wasn’t always this way for Johnny. He worked until he was 40 at a local steel mill along side of his father. Then Johnny’s brother Marion died of an overdose.

“That’s when I seen the change,” Homer said. “He was very close to Marion.”

Johnny began to ping-pong in life. He would do odd jobs: gardening, plumbing, anything to get him through. When he couldn’t get through, he would insinuate himself on his sister’s couch and then insinuated himself on his brother’s couch and then feeling better, he would get lost again.

“Last time I saw him was in September for his birthday,” Homer said. “It was alright. I haven’t seen him since.”

If the outpouring of phone calls and letters are any indication, then the life and sad end of Johnny Redding reminds us that even the dirtiest life has value. There are many Johnnys out there: Victor, Kenneth, Terrence your loved ones are asking about you.

And if you should judge Johnny Redding harshly, his brother Homer said, remember that no man deserves to go ignored at the bottom of an elevator shaft.

“We’ve got to live in the world together,” Homer said. “And we got to care about each other.”

You can reach Charlie LeDuff at (313) 222-2071 or charlie@detnews.com.
Find this article at:
http://www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090130/METRO/901300457

Thank you and have a nice fucking day!

Just finished cup of joe number one, starting on cup number two. I have been contemplating the way people speak, more so now than ever, since we have moved to the deep south. I have never been one to use lots of flowery adjectives when speaking to another person. I prefer concise speech, straight to the point. Which made me wonder why everyone considers "fuck" such a dirty word. I have learned in my 42 years that in certain situations that is the only word that is suited for certain situations. When the World Trade Center got bombed I think FUCK was a pretty appropriate word. When Wall Street got their free pass, again, FUCK, a very suitable word. Since moving down here I have been spoken to so politely, and properly, knowing that the person who is speaking is actually saying "Fuck You", just in their own way. I personally would rather have someone tell me to fuck off, than utilize a bunch of wasted words when they could get straight to the point with two. I have always agreed with the late George Carlin. I think missle is a much more dangerous word than shit, piss, fuck etc. I was told at work to slow my speech down to improve my tips. In this area, speaking quickly is considered abrupt. Sorry, but when I am waiting on a four top and the dude in suspenders can't decide between an 8oz Rib Eye or a 120z Rib Eye, I do try to expedite the situation as politely as possible. Because while Billy Bob is trying to decide which steak he wants, I am watching my station getting loaded with more tables that are needing my immediate attention. I am smiling on the outside, saying "Take your time sweetie", but on the inside I am saying "Fuck fuck fuck". "Pick a damn steak already asshole". For me personally that is how I relieve stress. I curse, like a sailor, a drunken sailor who's only vocabulary consists of profanity. I have just learned through maturity and age, to keep the majority of my cursing on the inside. The English Language is amazing. There is a word for every occasion. Numerous words. The best part is that because I am an American I can use any word I want, when I want. At least it is supposed to work that way. I have to be at work this morning at 10am..Ah shit...need more coffee. Have a great weekend everyone.