Nouns and Verbs and Conjunction Junction

So I'm feeling old...

2006-09-13T22:38:00.000-04:00

I don't mean like I need a cane and my arthritis has been acting up and I use windex to cure life's ills kind of old, maybe just older. I think I was 21 when the Cavs signed Lebron to a huge deal and then Nike gave him $100 million. He was 18, I was 21. Lebron 1, Dave 0. Now its weird to read the news any time there is a sports draft and see people younger than me getting huge paydays. I'm not saying I should be getting a 5 years $36 million dollar contract with a $8 million dollar signing bonus, free hotel stays for my family for away games and unlimited use of the owner's private jet. These guys can run a 4.5 40, they can hit a fastball, drain the 3 under pressure. I answer phones, deal with clients, chase parts. I'm not saying I don't put in an honest day's work, because I know I do. But I've honestly thought about what I could have done differently in my life that could have secured that kind of money, and I can't think of it. I was an mediocre wrestler who never tried hard enough to be good, but even if I was good, it wouldn't have earned me Lebron style coin. I'm not completely confortable with the idea that we pay someone who plays a game that much money but I guess my capitalistic side says its a wash in the end. If we don't give it to them, its going to someone. Someone gonna make that money.

I'm also not saying that its ok that 14 year old kids in the Dominican Republic are getting a $750,000 signing bonus because they can throw a good curveball. Nor am I saying that its ok that kids can't get a great education in many places, but cities and states are more than happy to pony up $500 million for the next big stadium, retractable roofs, clean sightlines, $8 beers, $12 fish and chips. Young people don't think about these things. I've dropped thousands of dollars on Sox tickets and concert tickets over the last couple years. Thousands. I look back, realizing that I had a good time, but it was a waste. I love Fenway, don't get me wrong, but I'm a big guy and I'm usually bruised after 3 hours of sitting in a seat that was obviously not made with me in mind. I'm usually so uncomfortable that I don't actually enjoy watching the game. I drink beers at the game, $6 a pop, maybe some Fenway Franks at $4. Why wouldn't I just go to my sister and brother in law's and watch the game on their couch in crystal clear hi-definition? I could drink beers there, from the bottle, at like $1 per piece. I could even pan fry some hot dogs, $6 for the whole package with buns. Drunk girl behind me wouldn't spill beer on me. I could actually see balls and strikes. There is something about being there in the action, to be able to say to someone, oh I was there at the game last night and I almost got hit with a foul ball, even though you didn't. 20 years from now you want to tell your kids you used to go to Fenway all the time, beers were only $6 a piece back then. We would hang out at the Baseball Tavern after the game. It doesn't sound as exciting to say I used to watch the game at Auntie Michelle and Uncle Lance's?

Speaking of which, I'm going to have kids? Do you see what I mean? 2 years ago, kids were the farthest thing from my mind. I'm going to be a father someday? I'm going to be a husband? Growth, not just in years, but in maturity. Growth of the mind, body and soul. Maybe being old has perks. I'm still not old enough to feel flattered when I get carded to buy a beer, its just annoying. Maybe that'll come too.

Anways...Old. and get used to it.

Ethical Question, possibly even a moral dilemna

2006-08-14T22:14:00.000-04:00

Soooo....I have a question for you.
I was reading Sports Illustrated the other day and came upon an article that tickled my fancy as well as my brain. It was about a game that is as American as apple pie, thats right, I'm talking about baseball. There was a game being played amongst 9-10 year olds in Utah, a league where they don't allow a team to score more than 4 runs in an inning, where everyone bats and everyone plays the field. When you're 9 or 10, regardless of what your dad tells you about your future in the sport, you're still learning, yeah some of them can throw a nasty curve or hit it 110 feet to the left field fence, but most can't. Well here is the dilemna: It is the bottom of the 9th, the team on the field is winning by a run, there are two outs, runner on first, got all that? All the pitcher needs to do is get one more out and this one is over, with Team A winning the 9-10 championships. Problem is, the best player on the team is about to come up to bat, hes had a home run and a triple in the game so far. Strictly speaking, he is the 9 year old David Ortiz. If this is the major leagues, you walk him, pitch to Manny, hope for the best, but this isn't the majors, and the kid behind him isn't Manny, its a 9 year old cancer survivor with bones and muscles so weak that hes required to wear a batting helmet when he plays center field, he has one hit on the season. What do you do? I really have to think about the situation, because I don't really know, my competitive nature, my need to win says you walk Papi to get to the little boy. But wait...this is a learning league, kids learn how to track a ball in the outfield, how to step and throw, how to keep the elbow up and swing through with both hands. But aren't they also learning baseball strategy? How to work the 6-4-3 duece, how to hit and run, the proper way to slide? If this is a learning league, why do they even have a championship? Because even parents, even board members of this little league have that win-at-all-costs instinct. There has to be a winner and loser. If they wanted to make it a real learning experience, they wouldn't keep score, every game would end in a tie, everyone would get a trophy right? Bullshit. We coddle children too much these days with play dates, timeouts, soccer moms, ipods, cell phones, fast cars as license presents, graduation breast implants, its crazy. Alright, maybe a little too much of a tangent there with the breast implants, but its still pretty crazy. Shouldn't we be teaching kids that life will always have winners and not winners (for those of you who want me to avoid the term loser) If two adults apply for a job that has one opening, someone is walking away without a job, it doesn't mean they'll never have a job, it just means they aren't going to have that job. If they lose a baseball game, that doesn't mean they will never win, it just means they aren't going to win today, isn't that a strategy for life? Teach them to throw a curve ball, bring them to the batting cage, play catch. Some kids aren't made out for sports, and for them, there is always the math league or student government, and they can make their mark there. We don't leave training wheels on forever right? Children need to learn, shit, my brother pushed me into a cement wall trying to teach me how to ride a bike. Did it hurt? Bet your ass, but did I avoid the wall the next time around? Bet your ass.

Do you see how these tangents work? Sorry about that. But seriously, it sucks. Here is this kid, 9 years old, cancer survivor, just wants to be treated like everyone else, (except he has to wear a batting helmet in center field) He can't hit for shit, but maybe it wasn't the cancer, maybe he just couldn't hit, who knows? Maybe he is destined for Math league greatness, king of the drama club, maybe he plays a mean tuba in the band. Pitching around the star player doesn't teach kids to hurt the weak, it teaches baseball strategy, it was a hard lesson, but it gave fifteen 9 and 10 year olds a championship. What happened to the boy? He struck out.

Let me know...

2006-07-24T22:53:00.000-04:00

So I'm catholic. Well...I was catholic. I'm not sure how it works these days. I have very little faith in general, and even less in the catholic church, but I don't like it that I feel that way. I would like to have a faith, but I'm not sure you can agree with some idea of a religion, but not with others. Can some devout religious folk out there let me know if thats cool. I guess it depends if you have a progressive pastor, but I really don't know. I like the idea of going to church and communing with god, but I'm not sure I'm quite ready for that yet. Does this mean I have to find a church that agrees with all my views, or just the best. Like do I accept 3/5 on my ideals list? I guess that end is more of a personal decision, but I don't know. Is there anyone else out there that has the same problem? I'm pro choice, pro gay marriage and pro death penalty, all against catholic doctrine, so can I be catholic still or is that a faux pas? If someone passes over this, and has an opinion, drop me a line and let me know what you think. Thanks

NASCAR?

2006-07-17T22:03:00.000-04:00

Did I miss something? Seriously? I mean don't get me wrong, I loved Days of Thunder (that was TC pre-psycho), but what is this country's obsession with NASCAR all about. I enjoy a good crash every once in a while, but I couldn't find 100,000 friends of mine to sit around a circle for 6 hours in the blazing hot sun hoping to see one. I hear people party like its 1999, but I could do that in a bar, or in my air conditioned house, at least I can change the channel and check the box scores. But I don't want to watch it on TV either. Unless they want to start having races on the highway amongst other citizen drivers, I would pay money to watch that, shit I'd even take a trip down 495 to drive in it.
I ask you a favor though race fans, please don't refer to what these guys do as a sport. I don't want to argue, I don't want your mulleted friends to hunt me down at the bar, but seriously, this is not a sport. I'm a big guy, don't get me wrong, so I'd sweat because I'm told it gets pretty hot in the car, but don't tell me that any person who drives 93 north or south to Boston every day couldn't place in the top 10 at Talledaga, or one of those short tracks. Bullshit.
If you want, we can put NASCAR in the games category, like badminton, bocce, cheerleading, horseshoes, bridge, poker, bid whist, checkers, slapsies and staring (yeah thats right, staring). I can't hit a baseball for shit, even if I practiced for months, years even, I could never be more than a 185 hitter. I throw a football, or catch one for that matter, maybe I could be an offensive lineman, but thats just a maybe. I can't skate or shoot a hockey puck on ice, and I can't hit a freethrow if you paid me money.
The US only sent one person to play badminton in the last Olympics, that means I could have gone too. I play mean game of bocce, in a pretty short period of time, I'm pretty sure I could be pretty good at it, same with horsehoes, and maybe even curling. Same goes for NASCAR. You could drop me in a car tomorrow and I'd have the skills that pay the bills within a couple weeks. Drafting, rubbin is racin, I'd get all that shit down pat and I'd be so money. I'd even change my name to Bobby Sue Daniels, grow a mullet, talk with a drawl, drink Keystone light and Jack, eat fried chicken, and in the off-season, I'd sing country music, shit, all I'd need to do is get a pickup and a dog, beat my girlfriend till she leaves me and sing songs about drinkin, shootin, beatin, hatin, lovin, and racin. I'd be a billionaire.
Thats it, I'm going to drive a stock car and sing country music, NASCAR is a sport, and if I hear any of you say anything, I done reckon that I'll let my mullet out, and sick my dogs on you, nobody done talk bad about my NASCAR.

Crap.

Go see Live.

2006-06-20T22:28:00.000-04:00

Seriously...do it. I should preface that statement with a warning that I cannot be deemed responsible if the show sucks. They're playing the Hampton Beach Casino Ballroom at the end of August. I've been to a ton of live shows, probably close to 30 or 40, and I can safely say that Live was a top 3 (U2 at the Fleet this year was the best show I've ever seen, awe inspiring, and I paid out the ass for it, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat) Live at the HBC is signifigantly cheaper and you'll know a lot more of their songs than I think you might suspect. I've never been to a show there, so I hope the venue doesn't suck, but I'm telling you, you should go and have a good time, plus, I'll be there, so it can't be all bad.

Yeah....about that....

2006-06-11T21:55:00.000-04:00

Well I'll be straight up and honest with you, I suck at this. I totally thought I'd be writing more, but I'm just too lazy. I work, and I come home, and I do laundry and eat dinner, and I watch TV and then I go to bed. Its terrible. Honestly, I think about things to write about all the time, I should really carry a voice recorder or a small notebook with me and write them down, because I get home and then idea has been passed over. I picture the idea under torn up credit card applications, and the leftovers from last week's chicken experiemnt in my kitchen trash. Not only do I not want to go get it, it could be hazardous to my health if I did.

I have been thinking for a couple weeks about this single idea, not like every minute of every day, but usually just while I'm driving. I don't know if people think about how once simple thing can change the lives of hundreds or thousands of people. And I'm not using the example of President Bush sending soldiers to war, I'm thinking about small, somewhat inane thing. For instance: Your mom asks you to take out the garbage, you leave the backdoor open a hair, and the cat notices it. The cat gets out into the yard and decides to cross the street, while crossin the street, a car comes by, and while swerving to avoid the cat (unsuccessfully I might add) the car hits another parked car on the street killing the driver. The driver is dead, affecting every single person who knows him. The funeral director gets to keep his business open this month because a death occurred. The owner of the parked car didn't have insurance, so now he can't get to work, and hes probably going to lose his job. The cat is dead, and she had been with the family for years. The on call doctor at the hospital had to bring his 3 year old to his mother's house so he could rush to surgery for the passenger of the vehicle, and his child has a cold, hes going to give it to his grandmother and shes going to die from it. The story can literally go on for days. And all of it was caused by a single event, you not wanting to reach back in and unlock the door, so you left it open instead.

And I don't mean to be morbid about it either. You could have a day like fucking Charley Bucket, finding a coin in the sewer and buying a Wanka bar and getting the last goddamn golden ticket. Shit, he got that and his grandfather who hadn't been out of bed in years danced a goddamn jig, not to mention the fact that hes taking over the factory. All because some poor schmuck dropped his change while trying to load a box of tomatoes into his truck. The entire chocolate world in England (never understand how Charlie had an American accent while his teachers were dirty, buck toothed brits) has been left to a child. What happens if he fucks it up, and the chocolate world goes down in flames, and all the fucking oompa loompas are out of a job? I mean, I guess they could do some off-broadway shit, musical not drama.

Thats all I guess, just thinking about how simple things can change everything. Try and think about that for a minute, or tomorrow while you're driving to work, try it out for 5 minutes.

I'm gonna write more soon, I promise.

On the subject of Summerfest 2006. I suck again. I've been so GD busy that I haven't really researched. I want people to go, but it would have to be centralized, so that people would go. Let me know what you think? Would you go to an all day BBQ party, beers, whiffleball, DJ, and whatnot?

thanks

Keep it chill

What the fuck is Juice??!?

2006-04-23T22:55:00.000-04:00

You see that? I'm a damned liar. I'm a lying liar who lies. I said I'd write a lot and in the short run, I did. But now as time has progressed, I've been lazy. Its weird, too because I'll be driving along and I'll think of something, and I'll be like "Shit, I should write that down to remember that I can write about it later on" And then I don't write about it, usually because I'm tired. I mean, I'm tired right now, don't get me wrong, but I feel the need to write, just because I haven't in so long and I know you're all disappointed. But here goes.

Who needs friends? Seriously, I've stopped taking applications, no more friends needed. I said something to Mark the other day about how we have a close knit group of friends who would walk 100 miles for us. And he said something that caught me off guard, "How many people do you seriously need to walk 100 miles for you?" I don't know I guess. I like the idea that I'm a pretty good friend and that people know if they need something, they could call me whatever time of night or day. And its funny too because I know there might be someone who reads me say that and says "I don't think you'd do that for me" or they'll say that I'm not actually a good friend. And its true, I'm sure there are some of you out there, but you still care enough to read my shit, and I'd still come jump your car in the middle of 495 at 3 in the morning. YOu'll be buying my ass Denny's and then we can talk about the issues at hand, but don't think that I'll never be there for you.
In the meantime though, seriously, I have enough good friends, and I mean pure people good friends that I could roll with a posse if needs by, and if I ever won the lottery, my life would be like the show Entourage minus the acting, and Bob Saget being my pot smoking,whore doing neighbor.

Can you name your best friends? I mean I'm sure you have them broken down into sub categorys, best friends from home, from school, from work, best family member, maybe your signifigant other is your best friend. Did you like them when you first met them? Think about it. I hated my best friends when I first met them. Looking back now, I might not have made it to this point in life without them.

On a point from a week ago, where the fuck did the East bunny come from? The rabbit is the pagan symbol for fertility, and I know the catholics recruited pagans by using some of their symbols and dates (i.e. Christmas was not the actual day that Jesus was born) But am dI supposed to believe that Jesus rolled the stone away on Easter morning dressed like a giant bunny? Can't you just picture him with his nappy hair sweating like mad walking through the desert with a bunny costume on? When he met with people he couldn't even preach the gospel, because the Easter Bunny doesn't talk. Giant Easter eggs filled with wine and bread. Must have been some hot ass wine with the sun from the desert beating down on it. He couldn't even use the wine for something to drink because it would have just dehydrated him even more. So yeah, the Easter bunny, a crock of shit. More commercialization by candy companies trying to make a buck.

Well thats it for now. in the meantime, ask yourself, what the fuck is juice? Personally I want some grape drink. Sugar....water.....purple.

St Patrick The Great would have been his name if he was a conquerer

2006-03-20T23:00:00.000-05:00

Whirlwind tour this weekend brought me to sights unseen by thine eyes. Thine IRISH eyes of course. Friday night was spent in Dracut and Lowell. Mark and I chased some pulled pork from Skewers in Tewksbury with a case of Bud Light at Joey's and then it was off to the races. They had closed down a street in downtown Lowell and thrown up a circus tent sans clown car. Loud music, abundance of loud music and even though someone said they were pumping heat into the tent, we sure couldn't feel it. Also on a strange note, recognized a girl while waiting to use the Port-o-King. She was from UMass, sorority girl, maybe O-Hill? Chatted it up with her while her sister "freshened up." Wow, thats an oxymoron if I've ever written one. Can you really freshen up in a porto potty on st patricks day. I guess you can't say a girl was unfreshening up though. Who knows. A couple of mark's buddies from Billerica showed up and wanted us to go to a house party. I'll try anything two or three times, so I said fuck it and we left.

We end up in the Wendy's parking lot eating chicken nuggets and drinking sprite waiting for this girl to get directions to where we're going. She opens the car window and screams across to me "Hey, do you guys have any beer?" I'm thinking to myself that she can't be serious, shes out of her mind, its St Patricks day at like midnight and she wants to know if we've got beer in the car with us. So I left, literally drove away, kinda pissed that we left a bar where I was having an alright time to go to a party that apparently didn't have beer. Maybe they were reading sonnets to each other, all Dead Poet's Society. Or maybe it was a def poetry jam. I'm thinking in my head of the opening scene from So I Married an Ax Murderer, where when someone reads a poem, everyone in the room snaps their fingers. Good for a sunday afternoon, not really a Friday night, especially not one where I'm celebrating the death of a guy that chased all the snakes out of Ireland.

Mark talks me out of it, we end up going to this house in Lowell. I steal a spot in the driveway, walk up the stairs and what do I see? My entire graduating class, well not really, but it might as well have been. At least 20 or 25 Tewksbury people, a bunch of Billerica people, 3 or 4 30's, Green and Orange jello shots. My brother of all people decided as we were pulling up that we should go in with an open mind, yes, my brother, and wow he was right. Good times, I don't remember much after that. Freaking out at my brother while he was driving my car back to his house cause our D.D. fell asleep (Thanks dear) Joey slapping me in front of a bunch of his friends while I was sleeping because he thought it would be "funny", followed by all of his friends calling him a dick and me avoiding lighting him on fire. Woke up the next morning with a half eaten steak and cheeze sub on the table with a gallon of water. I made it. Didn't get sick. Oh wait, spoke to soon, I got sick.

I drove mark home and tried to sleep my hangover off. In turn for being out DD friday night, I offered to drive Erika up to NH so she could drink with some friends. I could have backed out, maybe "fallen asleep" like someone did Friday, but I didn't. Mark and I went to a hibachi steakhouse while the girls had margaritas at well... Margaritas. Other than the guy sitting next to me telling me he was stealing the long scorpion bowl straws so that he could do his friends' coke without them noticing and my cook dumping hot soy sauce on my leg while my waiter simultaneously dumped my sprite on my head, the meal was PFG- Pretty Fucking Good.

Sunday we hit up Southie. walked 30 blocks in 30 degree heat. Drank beers. Watched bagpipers. Hugged a lot of old tewksbury friends. drank more beers, walked back to the train. Southie is a blast for the parade, if you've never done it, I reccommend it. It's funny, because Mumbles Menino gets up there every year and says they will crackdown on public drinking but they never do, just as long as your'e not stumbling into police horses with a 40 in hand, you're alright.

Still kinda hungover right now, might just need sleep. Sore throat comin in, hopefully gonna chase it off with water and nyquil, if not, someone is gonna get it tomorrow. You? Possibly.

I've been thinking of some interesting shit the last couple days, I'll drop some knowledge on you this week. If you don't think its interesting, shut up, what the hell do you know anyways. Anyways, I'm off to kill pepperonis right know, as usual, leave your name, number, serial number, if you are susceptable to any dissseases...

D to the MF C Song of the Moment: Stand Up by Trapt

He chased all the snakes out of Ireland

2006-03-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

Can you believe that shit? That is the number one answer. If you ask people who St Patrick was, and why he was famous, that is the number one answer. He played bagpipes and the snakes followed him out of Ireland. Bagpipes aren't even Irish, and I'm sure the good saint himself was too busy being close to god to learn how to play them. St Patrick was actually British, tea and crumpets kinda shit. He was taken captive by a group of Irish raiders (drunk ones most likely) and was brought to Ireland where he was forced to herd sheep (See: Brokeback Mountain) While there, he talked to god, and I mean that litererally, god came to him and told him to become a priest. Obviously he was doing some drinking, maybe smoking some peyote ala Billy the Kid in Young Guns. Can't you picture him sitting around like Slater from Dazed and Confused, "I talked to god man, and it was fuckin crazy man, he told me to go to Ireland man, teach those mick bastards about christianity." And that wasn't all god said, he told him to get out or Ireland, quick. So he walked 200 miles down the Irish coast and escaped back to Britain, became a priest and went back to Ireland to convert the Irish from tree worshipping freaks to god fearing christianites, George Bush would be proud.

So he goes to Ireland, preaches the gospel, turns some heads, pope makes him a saint. His first miracle was getting the Irish away from the bar and making them go to church. Now they celebrate the day of his death. Maybe because they could stop going to church and spend more time in the bar with him not around.

The St Patricks day as we celebrate it, with parades and whatnot is the completely americanized version. In fact, bars in Ireland weren't even open on St patricks Day until 1995, when the government decided that the Americans would come there to celebrate if they made a bigger deal out of it.

I don't mind drinking in celebration of a holiday that I didn't really know much about, I'm 23, its not as though I need an excuse to drink beers. This weekend is going to be crazy though, its like the Irish Christmas. Chasing a St Patricks day friday is a st patricks day saturday and a parade in southie on sunday. The boys are coming east, so it should be a blast. Stay tuned for more updates.

Keep it real, or don't keep it at all.

run D mc

And then everyone will say "HELLO DAVE!"

2006-03-12T23:53:00.000-05:00

I'm the first to admit when I have a problem. I feel like I'm at an AA meeting right now. Hello everyone, my name is Dave... and I'm addicted to the West Wing. That's right folks, no crack or LSD here, just straight up West Wing. The final season in full swing and I Tivoed the shit out of it tonight. It was a great episode, Josh made out with Donna, and she tried to bring him back to her hotel room for some BOW CHICK A WOO WOOOOO. It didn't end up working out, but we already learned earlier in the season who won the election. (Those of you who showed up 3 or 4 minutes late for that show are shit out of luck) Also, at the end of tonight's show, they showed who would be on the final show, the reunion show (assuming Leo won't be, you know, because hes dead) But Sam is making a comeback. That's right everyone, the great Rob Lowe, who left the West Wing 4 years ago because his career was "going places" is coming back for the finale. The only place his career went was *plop plop* in the shitter. Made for TV movies, remakes of Steven King 80's flicks sans nudity, and now hes hoppin it up with a show on Lifetime, oh wait, even that was cancelled. What happened to Billy, the young drunk frat brother, druggie, saxophone player, from everyone's third favorite 80's movie, St. Elmo's Fire (BILLY'S UP ON THE ROOF!) He should come back onto the scene with those kind of flicks, start making sex tapes with hookers after the oscars and whatnot. Speaking of which, isn't Robert Downey Junior due to be arrested for drugs again soon?

On a completely different tact, can someone inform me to the benefit of paying excise tax? We have some of the highest property taxes in the state here in Lancaster (where we have a volunteer fire department, and my road doesn't get plowed in the winter) And yet I need to shell out $50 to keep my car here? I feel like that's kinda bullshit, and by kinda I mean not really kinda at all. I rarely drive in Lancaster, unless you could the 500 foot patch to the highway. Even to get milk or bread I don't go to lancaster, because the closest Lancasterian store that sells such things is nearly 20 minutes away. I go to Shirley, home of Roux's which carries the necessary goods. Milk, bread, sunday newspapers, Terryaki steak and cheese subs, and also the occasional 6 pack of Killians or pint of Ben and Jerry's Irish something-or-other. Well I guess my tax money is probably going to pay the 3 Lancaster police officers to ticket my car for "illegally" parking on a street that Lancaster doesn't own(See: Private). So maybe I am getting my money's worth...or not, depends on how you look at it.

Stay tuned this week for more hullabaloo from my Grandmother's annual St Patty's smoked shoulder dinner (held on wednesday this year so that it doesn't interfere with any of the Irish Christmas held over the upcoming weekend) Also, I'll have my face compressed and put onto paper form so that I can send it to all of you as a reminder that if any of you ever are looking to buy or sell a house, or you know someone, or you know somewhere who has heard of someone looking to buy or sell a house, to let me know. Thats all. Hope I'm keeping it fun and interesting, and if not, let me know, so I'll know who's glove compartment to leave a present in.

D to the C

SummerFest 2006...get on the bandwagon.

2006-03-09T22:34:00.000-05:00

After this post, I'm going to have an open house, roll this bitch out for everyone to see. Like I said at the doctors office last week, please be gentle. I ramble incoherently, and its a style you'll have to get used to. Tom and I were talking last night about something that "the guys" were talking about last weekend. The only time when all of us have been together in the last year was at Tom's mom's funeral and Lisa's funeral, which is ridiculous, we can't do that, we're too close. So we decided that every other month, or every month as the next few have it, we're going to get together, drink beers, talk about old times, and keep it as real as possible. I had an idea that we should throw a reunion type event this summer. I don't mean reunion like a house party, I mean like every person I know at the Tewksbury Elks. DJ, kegs, grills rollin out thousands of dollars worth of hamburgers and hotdogs (and veggie burgers for all of you that roll like that) We shouldn't see each other only on sad occassions. Seriously, though, date, time, and place to be determined, but I think thats on tap this summer. If you read this, you're invited, so is everyone you know. Spread the word. There will be good people, good times, potato salad, and maybe some whiffleball. I'll have more details as time goes on, but just be sure to check in.

I'm new to this...

2006-03-09T21:40:00.000-05:00

Yo, Check it.

I've thought about doing this for a while, just to keep my mind moving. I was never a great writer in anyways, but if I lose the few skills that I do have, I'll be screwed further down the road if I decide to go back to school.
I've spend the last few days trying to be more analytical of life in general, thinking on a level I haven't really ever done. I lost a great friend last week, someone I'll never forget, because she is just that...unforgettable, and she left us far too early. Lisa's death has forced me to think about life in a very different way. Granted its only been a week since she was buried, but I don't want to get back to a status quo, where I'll again start to believe that life is just fluid, that it'll always be there, when its obvious that it won't. Also, I don't ever want to forget her, act as though shes an afterthought. Everyone that ever met Lisa owes it to her to do something and to be somebody, because she'll only live on in pictures and words and stories and spirit, not like the rest of us will. It is so cheezy to think back on all those emails you got in high school and college, and probably still to this day that were like "Life every day to the fullest, you never know what tomorrow brings." I always thought that was bullshit, I know exactly what tomorrow brings. I'm gonna get up at 7, I'm going to snooze till 7:20, read the news, listen to Good Morning America or the Today show or whatever shit is on. THen I'm gonna shower, get dressed, make toast and drive to work. Then I'm going to do my menial job for 8 hours. I'm going to complain in my head, I'm going to sneak time to read ESPN and my email. Check my bank statement even though I know what it says. Then I'll drive home, or to the real estate office, though lately, its more home than not. I'll eat dinner with Beth and mom and the baby, occassionaly dad or michelle is there. I'll go food shopping or do a load of laundry, I'll watch TV, and I'll go to bed, just to do it all over again. Why? What is like that? I'm 23 and I'm living my life like I'm 50.

I'm not morbid, so please don't take it that way, but what happened if while I'm driving to work, I lean over to the passenger seat to reach for my Peanut butter toast sandwich and I look up to see a tractor trailer stopped in the second lane. Really I'll only see it fast enough to jerk the wheel sideways, and instead of going head-on, I hit it on the side, though with the same results. Anyone can say that, what happened if you're walking across campus some morning and you go for a crosswalk and don't really look, and some guy is reaching to his passenger seat for his peanut butter toast and he kills you. There you are, 20 year old guy or girl. Dead. What kind of legacy does that leave? What do people say about you? How are you remembered? Does your boss speak at your funeral and talk about how you always showed up 5 minutes late, but you were great at answering phones? Does your sister talk about how you used to pull her hair when you were little? Do your buddies have good drinking stories?

What does that all mean, you ask? You know what I mean, you've spent the last 45 minutes reading away messages, in fact thats probably how you came to read this BLOG, so I guess I can't really fault you, and instead of reading to improve my mind or running to improve my health, I'm sitting here at 10 at night writing this shit instead.

Why don't we get out more? Why don't we skydive? Why don't we watch stars more often, really appreciate what we've got? Because we're too busy to get to work, to get home for Survivor or to play that stupid video game. We don't talk enough to good friends, seriously, we don't, and I don't mean call and ask how their day was, not as though that isn't good enough, but real raw conversation about life and such. (PS if you do any of this, stop reading, this doesn't apply to you, but you can improve too, I assure you)

Spend more time with the people you love, you're work will be there in the morning. Don't spend so much time planning for the future that you forget to enjoy the present. Eat more grapes. Drink fewer beers, but make them better beers. Stop smoking cigarettes...immmediately. Wear comfortable shoes. Take long showers. Learn how to make a good hamburger, from scratch. These seem trivial, but I'm telling you they aren't. If I could only go back and tell young Dave that 5 years ago, I think I'd have lived differently, but I guess I'll settle for changing now. I'm going to blog a lot for a while, and then I'll probably cut back, who knows, some will be short, some will be long, but hopefully all will be fun or interesting or insightful. If they aren't, tell me, though I'll probably tell you to shut up. Thats it for now fuckers, keep it realler than a mutha fucka.

_D-Unit_