Uncle Walter's Rants

You put the lyme in Uncle Walter and shake it all up

Joint pain. That's the first thing I noticed. Pain in my hands typing or working on the car. I thought I was pushing too hard. I thought I was stretched too thin. My sleep quality was bad, I worked long hours, I dealt with stress beyond what you could imagine. Then, one day, I made a chicken dinner. It was a simple meal with breading on chicken quarters.  There were five quarters and I was using tongs to pick them up, rinse them, and then coat them before putting them on the pan for the oven. One was easy, same went for two. Three was harder, four was painful with my bent fingers trembling as I picked the piece of chicken up. Five wasn't possible. I could no longer grip the tongs well enough to pick up the chicken. My hand was in agony. I waited a few minutes and then was able to complete my task.

It was then I knew something was really wrong so I scheduled an appointment with the doctor. He looked me over, told me I should lose weight and asked what was wrong. I told him about my joint pain and the chicken. His first thought was arthritis so he decided to do a blood workup to make sure all my bits were working alright. I told him I wanted a lyme disease test. I knew that my pain fit the mold and that people in my neighborhood had gotten it as well as The Wife (although that was years ago). He was hesitant stating insurance wouldn't cover it without a good reason. I didn't remember any tick bite or any round rash but I pushed him to do it. He put down the reason as possible tick bite and, after some blood was drawn, I went on my merry way.

The following week they called with the news that I had lyme disease. The test had come back positive. When I went in to get prescriptions for treatment the doctor was amazed that I even thought to have them run the test. He wanted to know what tipped me off that it could be a possibility. I explained the pain and the neighborhood and the chicken.  He just shook his head commenting on how lucky I was to have the test run.

So now I am on a month of medication which makes me dizzy. I don't feel any better, but I have hopes that it will come eventually. What keeps running through my head is the doctor's reluctance to run the test and his amazement that it was positive. Just how many people out there have it and don't know?

-UW

I loved Apple when Apple wasn't cool (to the tune of I was Country when Country wasn't Cool)

I remember wearin' my Woz T-Shirt
When Windows 3 was in style
I remember booting up in Pro-Dos
when 64k RAM was really wild

And I remember playin with Mac-In-Talk
When all of my friends 
were listening to their SoundBlaster cards
I loved Apple, when Apple wasn't cool

I remember the Apple IIgs, 
back when Apple dissed Steve Jobs
I remember when no one was lookin'
I was networking at 230 kbit/s on phonenet

I took a lot of kiddin'
'Cause I never did fit in
now look at everybody 
tryin' to be what I was then

I loved Apple, when Apple wasn't cool
Oooh

I loved Apple, when Apple wasn't cool
I loved Apple, with OS 6.5 for my boot
Now I still act, and look the same
What you see ain't nothin' new

I loved Apple, when Apple wasn't cool

They call us Apple Fanboys
For using an iPhone
I'm just glad we're in a country
Where we're all free to choose

I loved Apple, when Apple wasn't cool

Yeah, I loved Apple when Appple wasn't cool

And for those of you who don't know the song...

 

It's the 5th of July and I'm feeling independent - Spring Cleaning!

The temperature is high, but the AC is working. There is food in the Fridge that didn't go bad and somehow we weathered another nasty storm. It did kill the 4th of July fun as we were in the home the whole day because stores were still closed in areas and the fireworks displays were cancelled due to weather and power issues. Even with this we had a nice day at home, just me and the family and the mess. The house is not clean, it is cluttered and disorganized. There is laundry that needs to be done, there are toys that need to be put away, there are windows that need to be washed. 

I have spent the past year trying to clean up the mess, but everytime I make some headway it vanishes with more disorganization. More things fall, get in the way, make more of a mess. It has made is so I don't even feel like coming home anymore, not wanting to face the house and the mess. I want to be with The Wife and the kids, but the house makes it miserable for me. Well, after a year of trying to clean it I am going to try a new tactic, it's time for a reboot.

I am going to identify what I need, what I want, what I must have to survive and be happy and get rid of the rest. I need a certain amount of shirts, the rest can go. I need a certain amount of books, the rest can go. I need only so many tools, the rest can go and so on and so on. I need to follow Thoreau's advice and simplify. Otherwise what kind of example will I be for the kids spending all my time fighting a beast of a mess to preserve what? Six suits when I only need two? Four pairs of dress shoes when only one pair are even worth keeping? 

I am going to get important papers together, pick the clothes that will be kept and start giving the rest away or selling them. In most cases it will just be given away. I cannot live like this anymore and it's time to reboot my life, because I can not keep living like this.

-UW

Maybe if The Boy sees this enough he won't forget to flush and wash his hands anymore

Dramatic readings by The Girl

The world is a strange place and this whole video blog thing seems to be picking up more and more so I started thinking, what can Uncle Walter's Rants and Rotten Romance do that is a video blog type thing to boost our audience? After a few brainstorming sessions the first idea was for The Girl to do some readings of kid safe passages from bad romance novels. I setup a quick little studio and filmed The Girl reading a passage from Rainbow's End by Rebecca Brandewyne. This is the first attempt so the sound isn't perfect, but I think I have captured the concept.

Let me know what you think.

-Uncle Walter

His name was Jimmy

Over the previous weekend I went to a school reunion, which happened to be next to a cemetery.

Within the cemetery lay the remains on my cousin, named Jimmy. Yes, that is his actual name no need to obscure it as he has left this earth. 

He died in January, 1998, just after The Wife moved in with me. 

He was older than me. And now I am older than he was when he died.

He was single, but he fell into an on again/off again relationship with a woman who led him astray. I am not saying he didn't have his own problems, but she was a catalyst for them. Bringing him drugs, playing with his head, driving him into trouble.

I met her once when he drove down in a Lincoln Continental. Truthfully, all I remember of her is her way too short leather skirt -- and the way she held control over him. He was the kind of person who you could envision leading a team toward a goal, with a Steve Jobs kinda drive. He was charismatic... and self-destructive. She fed his self-destructive streak. On that particular day he had locked his keys in the car and broke the window to get them back. He broke a small window on the rear and found he still could not reach the lock. He was ready to break the big window when she came out, berating him for stupidity, then used her smaller hand to reach in and unlock the car. That was the last and only time I ever saw her.

Some months later he was living in a small house behind his parents' main house. We talked, albeit briefly, about relationships and the destructive power that can exist there. I had recently broken up with The Ex, who was a woman I cared for but who was destructive and manipulative. I had broken it off in a rather poor manner, telling her "I don't love you; I'm not sure I ever loved you." To this day I am not certain that was the truth or not. I knew she needed help, I knew I could help her, but I also knew she could destroy me with her mental illness. I made a choice to move on and let her face her fate on her own. I received a few sporadic letters from her then nothing. I heard she passed away in 2005 of natural causes.  

At the time, Jimmy was dealing with the loss of his own destructive relationship. Jimmy was brilliant and could make money like you wouldn't believe. But he always extended his reach and would lose it all as the drugs overwhelmed him. His girlfriend would show up when he was at the top of his game, to feed off his fortune and feed his drug addiction. He would crash, then she would disappear. This was his life's cycle over and over again... until his death.

I met with him when he was working on his recovery one last time. when he was in that little house behind his parents' house. He talked of the pain of being without her, yet knew he needed to be away from her, just as I spoke of the need for The Ex to be gone. He looked at me with the eyes of wisdom, years beyond my own, and told me I would succeed.  He could see it in me and he had faith in me. For one brief moment the black sheep of the family and I connected. For one brief moment we understood each other's pain.

I hoped to introduce him to The Wife, to show him that there is hope after such a destructive relationship. That the right woman is out there, you just have to find her.

He was living in a half-way house in Florida when his personal demon showed up, heroin in hand. He died that same day. She left in his car, which was never seen again.

We were all left with questions. Why did this happen? How could he do this to himself? What would he have become?

He was a man with such great potential. But it was all lost in a moment of poor judgement brought on by a destructive woman and his own personal weaknesses.

I lost a cousin.

My parents lost a nephew.

My aunt and uncle lost a son.

Nothing will ever heal that hurt, for any of us.

He was a flawed individual with addictions, weaknesses, and pain, and those overwhelmed him. He was also the boy who would drive the tractor, pulling me and my sister along in a trailer to see the tree-house he had built with his brother. He was the boy who ate Thanksgiving dinner with us and spent Christmas with us. He was the teenager with the old Volvos in the barn, that he would never get around to fixing. He was my cousin and he was family. Despite all his faults, I miss him and I always will.

-Uncle Walter

It makes me irate when you say I look great when I wear a little tiny mustache

Adolph Hilter was a mad man who left his mark on the world. His leadership and racial insanity changed everything, countries fell as a result of his rule and new countries rose. The United States went from an isolationist country to Team America World Police. All this can be attributed to Hitler. Do you know what else can be attributed to Hitler, the end of the little tiny mustache. Yep, Charlie Chaplin's signature look was done for. Instantly it disappeared from television and movies.

Hitler's stash in all its glory

Then, in 1963, along came Stan Lee and Steve Ditko who introduced J. Jonah Jameson the head of The Daily Bugle where Peter Parker (for the three of you who don't know he is Spider-man) works. And with him came the 'stache.

As always J. Jonah Jameson knew a good story

Somehow they thought that Jameson would look best with a mustache that can only be helped by long nose hair, and he did have some decent mindless ranting like his 'stache twin Hitler.

The squinty Popeye eye look means he's angry

Interestingly enough Jameson's Hitler 'stache spread into a more traditional one in the late '80s and onward (although there are a few versions that still sport it). In the latest movies it's a pretty standard fare one. I find it interesting that the 'stache dissapeared as those with a living memory of Hitler have begun to fade away. It's as though the 'stache has grown in power as time has passed.

Honest it was never a Hitler 'stach it was a Oliver Hardy 'stache

-UW

Have you met Little Wife?

I am a husband and father. I have The Wife, whom I love dearly, and The Girl and The Boy. They are both wonderful, and occasionally trying, children. But there is another.  Have I introduced you to Little Wife yet?  Little Wife is the tiny voice of The Wife in my head every time she is not around and I dare to consider doing something, well... stupid. For example, I collected the dirty laundry and thought "I'll just put those at the top of the stairs so I can carry them down to the laundry room the next time I go down there."  What flawless logic, I patted myself on the back. Somewhere in the distance a tiny voice grew louder, "The kids are going to knock them down the stairs then you are going to get angry at them and punish them, but you're the one who did something stupid! Now fix that before The Wife gets home!"  

I move the basket to a good waiting place, out of the way, ready to go down on my next trip safe in the knowledge that I will not piss off The Wife with such a blatant error. 

Little Wife can be very helpful when The Wife is unavailable to lend advice.  Tonight I am cooking dinner and found I was short an ingredient.  "Hmm, I'm sure I can just substitute this for that." I thought to myself. Little Wife chimed in, "We have the internet, lots of people substitute things on the internet just look it up." A few moments with Google prevented a dining catastrophe. (Don't ask The Wife about dill and pasta, please don't.  That was before I listened to Little Wife)

At times Little Wife can be annoying. While The Wife is grateful I made dinner, Little Wife is quick to point out that I still need to do the dishes. The Wife would have let that one slide, but Little Wife is a bit stricter, she keeps future pain from coming by keeping me in check.

I think Little Wife helps me to be a better husband, father and person. She helps me to avoid obvious mistakes and then fades away until I do the next stupid thing.  Too bad Little Wife is no help at proofreading.  This post will have tons of typos until The Wife becomes available to check it out.

-UW

Complaint of Day #23 - People who diss Barry Manilow's music

Do you know what really bugs me? People who diss Barry Manilow's music. People mock his songs and his voice. They make fun of his light tunes and his disco rhythms. It drives me nuts because he is actually a talented singer who had five albums on the top charts simultaneously (a feat only achieved by Manilow, Frank Sinatra, Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen and Johnny Mathis). He has sold more the 80 million records worldwide, the guy is a smash success with fans such as Bob Dylan as well as many other artists. He had ten number one hits in the seventies. He deserves respect.

And beyond that he was a prolific commercial jingle writer, crafting such classics as "Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there..." and "I am stuck on Band-Aid, 'cause Band-Aid's stuck on me!" He even sang some great commercials like McDonald's "You deserve a break today". The point I am trying to make is that his work is ingrained in the American psyche from the ads to the songs. From Mandy to McDonalds he is a part of the American fabric and deserves respect. When people diss Manilow is really bugs me, so Barry, this one's for you and where ever you are.

-UW

Complaint of Day #22 - Dishes of food left out

Do you know what really bugs me? Dishes of food left out. Every freaking day I find a plate or bowl of food that the kids have left out. If I'm lucky, I find it quickly and can clean it up. Unfortunately, the kids love to hide bowls of leftover pasta and plates of pizza crusts in the most logical places -- like under the couch. When I happen to come upon these little surprises they have "seasoned" themselves to a hardened state, often with a light topping of living organisms. If I am really lucky, it will have that wonderful growth that spreads mold dust if a light breeze nears it.

Every weekend I find more and more little living treats throughout the house. And with each one I feel like smacking a child. I manage to resist the urge to beat them. Instead I make them wash the dishes and do the laundry. Which, unfortunately are sometimes intertwined. That happens when the kids (usually The Girl) takes off clothes and throws them on top of bowls and plates of unfinished food. Then they merge into a single clothing-backed mold-infused dish-entity which requires special tools, environmental hazard suits, and a blowtorch to seperate. Yeah, that's the kind of thing I just can't stand.

-UW