Thank you Grandpa, for everything

Grandpa’s dead now… Well, since Christmas Eve he’s been dead for two years and I'm just now beginning to accept it. I hope I go out like he did - in my sleep. I know, boring as hell, but if it’s on Christmas Day at least I can haunt my descendants a little (the ones who remember me) on what is supposed to be a happy holiday. Christmas Day, Eve - what’s the difference? He couldn’t have planned it any better than that. In fact, without even knowing it he may have been trying to steal the baby Jesus’ thunder. And how can you knock a guy for inadvertently trying? Of course that’s speculation but it’s true he wasn’t a big fan of the manger, or to be more specific, anything religious or even slightly Catholic-y.

Yes, dying in my sleep in my seventies on Christmas Day is exactly how I want to go. Once you hit 80, how can life be any good? A typical day for me at that age would probably consist of coughing up blood, writing a few crappy lines about the “good ole days” right after swallowing a bunch of pills, cursing out the neighbor kids, inspecting my poop and then sleeping for 16 hours. Whoopee!

Grandpa went out right. It was the right time and the right way. He was getting too old to keep driving, let alone keep kayaking the rapids. All he did was worry me the last six years of his life anyway. When thinking about my own children and grandchildren I think six years of stress would be sufficient.

But really, as great as it seems I wouldn’t have to die on Christmas Day. I’d settle for any holiday just as long as I have a few grandkids around to make my own children feel guilty for not spending enough time with me when I was an old maid. Just because they’ll have their own lives is no excuse for the inevitable neglect. Someone has to call them out, even if it’s in advance. Guilt is what makes a family go round. And if anyone should feel guilty, how is that my fault? We all have our share to carry. Some of us just choose to ignore it.

So as I was saying four paragraphs ago, Grandpa’s dead now, but in an attempt to find some kind of wisdom to pass on to my sons (who are turning 17, 16 and 15 this year) I’ve been looking back at his life. I think it’s my own way of dealing with the fact that I can’t call him up and ask, “So what the heck do I tell these hormonal punks?”

As it turns out, the life he lived is a gold mine of valuable information. Here is a tidbit of what I’ve told my sons: Be careful who you help out. Rescue a dog and you’ll have a faithful friend. Rescue a hooker and she’ll stab you in the back. The beautiful ones you always seem to lose.

Okay, that last line is actually from a Prince song but that doesn’t make it any less true. And this has nothing to do with Grandpa (or Prince) but I’ve also warned, “You’ll need a f**king army or a crazy bitch to stop one. Don’t call me!”

I guess in a few years they’ll already have learned this stuff on their own. Who ever listens to their parents, anyway? Oh... No… They’d better not call me!

Finally, I don’t want to get mushy or anything and you probably can’t read this but I’ll always love and miss you Grandpa. Thanks for everything.

IDGAS is a fun phrase

Hello, blog grazers and beautiful people out there. Have you been feeling stressed lately? I’m feeling a little bloated thanks to the monthly curse, but other than that I’m good. It’s a beautiful day. The grass is green. It’s sunny, it’s warm, and it’s quiet… at least for the moment. But I know some of you have been feeling kind of tense.
“I don’t give a shit” is a fun phrase.
Say it.
Say it!
Say it with some authority now.
Doesn’t that make you feel better? Try it this way… shorten it up and say it the internet way, IDGAS.

From now on “I don’t give a shit” is going to be my fun phrase for life in general. Because seriously, if I were normally a serious person, life wouldn’t be any fun and I’d be dead in about ten years just from the stress of taking life too seriously. I’ll still give a shit when it’s necessary, but I’m talking about the small stuff here. I’m happy not sweating it.

I’m sure my new phrase will come in handy. I used to shrug my shoulders when life grabbed me by the nips and twisted, or more realistically, whenever something mildly annoying was thrown my way. But shrugging my shoulders like a trained chimp wasn‘t any fun, and that‘s the whole point. So I’ve given this a little bit of thought. Here are some situations when I could use my new fun phrase IDGAS.

When my co-workers do stupid things because they are stupid and I end up having to do more work because of their stupidity… IDGAS. And IDGAS because I get paid for the extra time I spend working because of their stupidity. IDGAS! HA! Joke’s on you, um, suckers who work with me that went to Special Ed. back in school and still think you’re special.

When the price of gasoline gets so outrageously high that I won’t be able to drive anymore because the price of milk is always higher and more important to have because it‘s milk… IDGAS. And IDGAS because I have legs, and feet. That’s right, I can walk or pedal a bike. IDGAS! HA! Joke’s on you, um, greedy executives and countries who sell oil and don‘t give a shit about the consumer.

If someone even more influential than Tom Hanks (who recently endorsed Barack Obama) comes out to shock the nation and endorse John McCain for President… IDGAS. IDGAS! HA! Joke’s on you, um, whoever might have the balls to put their entire reputation on the line for another four years of the same old same-old. Well, we already know it won’t be Charlton Heston.

If the government ever tries to take away our right to bear arms… IDGAS. And IDGAS because even if it happens in other states, it won’t happen in Montana. IDGAS! HA! Joke’s on you, um, people who think that slowly stripping away our rights and over-regulating us is going to make our world a better place.

When life throws you a hit, just don't give a shit. Turn it around. Don't fall to the ground. My rhyme is done. Now go have some fun.