Flushed! (11-16-11)

Things at work changed a little when the store recently hired a new manager. Since our department works closely with them, their hirings and firings can affect us. At first I was all for the change. The old manager, while a nice guy, had little leadership abilities. He was lazy and never wanted to try to do anything to improve the store despite having the means to do so. Part of our job since we moved here 18 months ago is to help boost the store with extra merchandise and product but it often seemed like he wanted nothing to do with us and boxes of merchandise that we’d give them more often ended up hidden in a supply room or closet than placed for sale in the racks.  It infuriated me because back when he got the job 2 years earlier, I interviewed for it as well and I spent at least 30 minutes supposedly dazzling the executive vice-president of our company with my passion and ideas for the store. In the end, they decided on continuity and promoted the store assistant manager than bring me over from a different building (we were located elsewhere at the time) and teach me everything from scratch. In the past they did offer me the manager’s job at other stores. I distinctly remember getting offered the opportunity to run the Niagara Falls store a few years back but I turned it down because of the distance and I thought they were going to close that store in a matter of months anyway. As it turned out, it closed less than a year later. This one job however I really wanted and was denied.

Fast forward nearly 2 years later and now our department is in the same building as the store and we are working together with them trying to get sales up in a time when record stores are becoming as hard to find as 8-tracks. Finally the office decided to make a change at manager when it became apparent that sales were going nowhere and the relationship between the store manager and my boss was ice cold at best.

This time I didn’t apply for the position but I never would have gotten the chance to anyway as they brought over an old employee/friend from a closing Borders store to assume the job. My boss still took me aside and gave me a pep talk telling me how valuable I am and yada yada, but I really didn’t care. Truth is I’ve stopped giving my best to this company a few years back. I used to work so hard every day and constantly offer ideas and energy to the cause but as time has worn on this company has eaten away at me. I can and will still give it everything I’ve got when needed but for the most part I work pretty half assed now. I don’t offer ideas any longer because they are pointless over deaf ears. I could go on and on about the antiquated methods, unpleasant or unbalanced people and poor decisions this company has made but lately my venom is only concentrated on one issue.

The new manager is either in his 40’s or 50’s and he works twice as hard as the last guy did so that’s a good thing. At first I really was excited about a real worker coming in to run the store and things have improved from a business standpoint. I’m not sure how I feel about the guy on a personal level though. He appears corny and very phony to me but so do most people these days. It’s the first time I can remember this store not having someone young, hip or both as manager. There is a difference. There’s less slacking but more rules. One of the reasons I still work here is due to the freedom my boss has given me. I know what my job is, what tasks need to get done, how to go about doing it and I can come and go as I please. I work 40 hours a week and if it takes me 4 days or 6 to get there or close to it, so be it. If I want to work 12-8 instead of 9-5, no one says anything. If I want to take a 2 hour lunch/siesta and then just stay a little later or come in on the weekend to make up the time, no problem. It’s hard to put a value on being able to come and go as one pleases but after 8 years and tremendous displays of loyalty and effort, I should be entitled to some perks, especially in lieu of low pay.

2 weeks ago on the weekend there was an incident. From what I understand a person came in who a few employees knew as a bit nutty to begin with. He went into the bathroom and started screaming, kicked the walls and then came out and told an already frightened employee that he was going to kill him and then promptly left. This incident also occurred a few weeks after the theft of hand lotion and soap from the bathroom. The next day when the new manager got wind of the latest incident, the bathrooms were deemed no longer available to customers. An overreaction? Maybe, but I didn’t care that much until I considered that I didn’t have a key to the bathroom. Were the bathrooms completely off limits? We were told that they were not but our internet retail crew in the back would have to get a key from someone up front each time we had to use it. Oh joy! 

My first thought was one of disgust. I don’t want someone knowing every time I had to use the bathroom. I’d rather not discuss it, let alone announce my intentions when I track down the keymaster. To me this amounted to having to get permission to go potty which made me very upset. I remember saying “I’m a grown-ass man who has worked for this company for 8 years; I’m not asking permission to use the bathroom.” The answer was simple; they needed to give me a key. But nothing is simple in this company.

The first excuse was they couldn’t give out any keys because the bathroom key also opened up the door to 2 other rooms. I asked what rooms they were and it turns out one of them is the room I work in and the other is an adjacent room I can walk into at anytime. So basically the key opens up the bathroom and 2 rooms I already have access to. Okay, give me a key.

Next came a compromise: they’d still have a key up front and we would get a key in back that the 4 of us would share. It seemed like a good idea until I thought about who I worked with. First there’s a lady with 3 kids who seems to be sick every other week. Next there’s an artist guy who wears the same clothes every day and I wouldn’t trust to wash his hands and lastly there’s another guy who often gets colds as well as the gout due to his sloppy eating habits. I’m not trying to share a key with this crowd and have to deal with their germs. I don’t trust them and quite frankly they shouldn’t trust me. The whole thing had gone past ridiculous to absurd.

Meanwhile as this arrangement was being discussed a whole week goes by where I was trying VERY hard to not go to the bathroom at work. I always drink 4-5 cups of water from the water cooler each day but now I had to stop drinking anything so I wouldn’t have to go. One night I was there late and I actually went home an hour early because I had to go. Another night I finally broke down and thought, well how bad could it be. I went out and asked for the key. The place stopped. All 3 people there were looking at me as the one assistant manager began to look for his keys. I felt mortified. The key was attached to his personal keychain and he handed it to me and I tentatively took it. I felt bad that I was taking this guy’s keys with me into the bathroom. I washed my hands thoroughly and when I returned the keys a few minutes later I made sure to tell him that. This whole deal has made me very uncomfortable and I feel like the new manager and our company is treating us like children.

It boils down to this: I don’t want to tell you I’m going to the bathroom. I don’t want to have to see someone when I do. I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to know about it. I think of a bathroom visit as a very personal and private thing not something to share publicly and draw attention to. If you work for a company full time, you should be able to go to the bathroom without any concern other than worrying about if someone is in there.  

Towards the end of last week and so far during this one I’ve decided to go home for lunch again. I used to do this during the summer and have resumed doing so in the wake of this dilemma. Going home for lunch is awesome and I would love to do it every day but the travel time is about 7-8 minutes each way and I probably like to relax and eat for about 30 minutes making each day’s lunch break at least 45 minutes long. Well, that’s a little longer than the 30 minutes I would take if I stayed into the building so that adds some time I have to make up by staying a little later each night and/or coming in on the weekend. It’s not the end of the world and I really enjoy getting out of the building during lunch but a bigger problem is on the horizon. We are weeks if not days away from seeing regular snowfall and cold temps. For someone who bikes or walks to and from work, taking lunch at home will be a longer break and a lot more effort on my part having to deal with the elements. Something needed to be done.

I again voiced my frustration and displeasure with the situation. Our company deliveryman who has a bathroom key even though he’s hardly ever in the building told me he’d make me a copy. I got a little excited but I tempered that with skepticism. In this company seeing is believing and until I had that key in my hand I wasn’t going to let myself get too excited. The deliveryman came in and out several times today and with each pickup and drop off I became a little bit anxious. Was I about to get my very own bathroom key? Or was I about to be told otherwise? The suspense was killing me.

Finally at the end of the day he came in and only 2 of us remained in the back. He said he talked to the company vice-president and he wants all of us to share 1 key in the back so we don’t have to ask the store up front for theirs. Despite my complaints, despite my discomfort I now have to share a bathroom key with 3 people who I do not trust germ-wise. The deliveryman said that the store manager up front has the extra key and he will find a place to put it back in our area. Why can’t we choose where we want to put our key? I only asked this question in my head because I know better than anyone that asking logical questions is pointless around here.

Shortly after hearing the recent development that took almost 2 weeks to arrive, the manager guy left for the day without placing the key for us. So, do we have to ask him to do it? What the hell? Just give up the key and we’ll put it in a convenient place. Earlier today when one of my co-workers needed to use the bathroom the manager walked him there and unlocked the door for him without handing over his key for even a minute. Bathroom escorts? Is that what we have come to? People who have been here for a few months are acting like people who have been here for years can’t be trusted. I am not a monkey. I will not fling my poo about haphazardly. I won’t do it purposely either (not yet). Pardon the pun and the swearing but this whole thing feels like a shitty thing to do to long time employees who had nothing to do with the incidents at the root of this action.

I feel the lowest level of morale I’ve ever felt working here and maybe that’s why I’m here working late tonight blogging instead of giving my best. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this stupid company. Soon it may be time where I’ll really have to go.

Area food trucks may be in Limbo as winter approaches... (10-27-11)

Area food trucks may be in limbo as winter approaches…

This past Tuesday the Buffalo Common Council once again opened the floor to the ongoing Food Truck debate and 45 minutes later, the sides were no closer to a badly needed resolution. The council apparently wanted no part of making the hard decisions or helping to bridge the gap for the two groups when they tabled the debate for at least another month. In September the council heard both sides of the argument and ended that public hearing by creating a special panel consisting of 3 people representing the newly formed Food Truck Association and 3 from the side representing the Brick and Mortar restaurants opposed to the potentially free roaming trucks. They were given 30 days to try to reach a middle ground and draft fair legislation that the council could vote on. Needless to say the food trucks would love clarification on where they can and cannot go. The current cautiously restrictive atmosphere with no rules favors the brick and mortars although the fact that they have made such a stink about the trucks shows they are afraid of them and want to nip them before they are numerous and widespread over the area. The council hoped the two sides could come up with something they could simply vote on and sign but I think everyone but the council knew it was not going to be that easy.

The council tried to pass the responsibility to the parties involved to find the answer instead of coming up with one themselves and this has only delayed the process which hurts the food truck side more than the B&Ms. The increasing passion displayed by both parties is making it very difficult for the two sides to work together and compromise their way to fair legislation and recent events suggest it would seem one side is a little more interested in finding that resolution than the other. The food trucks have been on record since day one asking for fair legislation so that they and the brick and mortars could finally know what the rules are and conduct business accordingly. This process began months ago as the elder statesmen of the Buffalo food truck scene, Lloyd Taco Trucks (who have been in service well over a year now) worked last April to draft legislation with North district council member  Joseph Golombek that has basically been forgotten at this point. What do brick and mortars really have to gain by coming to the table and working this thing out? They like how things are now whereby the trucks are limited and cannot move around freely. They want the food trucks on short leashes. The B&Ms have no incentive to want fair legislation. This idea of a panel was doomed from the start and seems like the council’s way of avoiding doing the work and making the tough decisions they would have to make to get this done. So when I heard that the two parties could not reach an agreement after the 30 days I was not surprised.

This is how it works: When the food truck side brings over any ideas the other side screams about how it’s not fair and holds it up without offering any ideas of their own and if by chance they do, they’ll be unreasonable ideas at best, again wasting everyone’s time and insuring nothing will get done making this dynamic eerily similar to the dynamic going on in Washington and in cities all over the country right now. One side wants it fair for all and the other side doesn’t want to give an inch or let anybody join their club. To me this food truck squabble reflects the growing fights in this country between the rich and poor, democrats and republicans and the occupiers camped out in every major city. One group wants to work to fix a problem and the other group won’t take their calls.   

Reports indicate that the good faith discussions went south just days before the Council’s mandated 30 day period were up and broke down into a yelling match between the two sides. All over the country battles are being waged by protectionist factions seeking the status quo and these upstart mobile vendors who just want a fair chance to compete in the marketplace. In some cities great strides are being made and happy consumers are reaping the delicious results while in other places food trucks are forced into being rogue outlaw type vendors despite the public love and demand for them.

It’s well documented all over this country, people WANT food trucks. The food is often times cheaper, fresher, healthier and arguably tastier than their B&M counterparts. Businesses like brick and mortar restaurants who pay large chunks in property taxes and who are subject to fees and regulations they claim the food trucks do not, have the ears of their local politicians. Money talks. But do the food trucks have an unfair advantage over the brick and mortar restaurants? Just because they both serve food, that doesn’t make them easy to compare. In fact, some would tell you that comparing the two is akin to comparing apples and oranges, that is, related but not the same.

Food trucks are mobile and this means they can tap into customer bases all over an area, at least in theory. As for now in Buffalo, the trucks can only appear on private property by invitation or in a designated public location if they obtain the proper permit. Lloyd has maintained a regular home at Main and Mohawk through the use of such a permit. Most of the major pedestrian areas of Buffalo have been closed to the trucks. Any attempt to vend in one of them results in someone calling the police, complaining and asking for action. This happens despite the fact the trucks are not breaking any laws (none exist), they get asked to leave which in the few instances when it has happened, the trucks have complied, again despite not doing anything technically wrong.

Brick and mortars talk about how the food trucks have an unfair advantage. I just don’t see it, especially as the weather turns for the next 5-6 months. Even today on my way in I saw the Whole Hog at Millard Fillmore hospital and there were no lines. People don’t want to stand in the cold for a sizable amount of time with no warm place to sit and eat unless they are lucky enough to work or live next to where the truck is located that day and even then it’s still a matter of wanting to brave the elements to wait for the food. That’s certainly going to discourage a fair amount of people from patronizing the trucks in the winter. These trucks have service windows but not a drive thru one. As a reaction to this, some trucks are informing customers they can call ahead and order but that is still thought of as more work than going through a drive-thru, stopping somewhere warm for fast food or even having lunch delivered. When it gets cold, I say advantage restaurants with their warm seating, restrooms and ability to offer customers more than just a nice meal.

It’s more than a seasonal disadvantage. Since the trucks move around often and use social media and websites to update their status sometimes with only a few hours notice, many people don’t even know when a truck is in the neighborhood or at or near their workplace. Plus there are others who simply can’t get there. Take me for instance as someone who often bikes to work. It’s not easy to go half way across town on a 30 or even 60 minute lunch break to get food. People like me will often frequent places close by due to time and travel restraints. If a truck happens to be close by, that’s great, I have another choice but I can count the number of times a food truck has been near my work on one hand. Yes they can offer fresher, cheaper, healthier and possibly even better tasting options than many restaurants but should that make them that serious a threat? Some people want food truck food for the taste, the cost or the novelty but many people still want to sit and dine and enjoy the comforts of a restaurant. There is room for both, especially in places like Buffalo where any trip out to people watch will quickly and easily demonstrate how much we love to eat.  

This “fight” shouldn’t even be happening. How is this really different from what goes on in America daily? It’s called competition. We see it all the time. Starbucks had no problem moving 2 buildings down from Caffe Aroma on Elmwood several years ago. Where was the proximity rule then? Where was the group of local businesspeople fighting for a local businesses’ right to exist without potential corporate domination? When Jim’s Steakout started serving tacos, where was all the public distain from Elmwood Taco and Sub? I mean, they are right across the street from each other. How could they do such a thing? These B&Ms would have you believe that these trucks are so dangerous to the local economy because they’ll close restaurants. They’ll try to make people afraid of them because they are easy to run and operate and they’ll overrun us all!  If they are so easy to start, why doesn’t every one of these restaurants have a truck of their own already or one on the way? It’s because these trucks are not easy to run or operate. Many of these brash entrepreneurs have gambled a great deal on these trucks. Some have returned home after decades away to pursue a dream. Others have gone out on their own to start their first business. They should not be denied the right to do so because the people who already have seats at the table don’t want any company. This is America where people can start businesses and chase dreams, where competition is king and choice is the consumer’s right.   

Restaurants open right next to other restaurants all the time. It’s a fact of life. To this day the intersection of Delaware and Sheridan features a McDonald’s and a Burger King kitty corner from one another and has for over a decade. Would one prefer that the other wasn’t there, of course but competition and innovation are two cornerstones of the business world. So there’s a new kid in town with better food and prices… tough, suck it up. Do what you did when your nearest competitor opened down or across the street from you. Make your product better, advertise well and win people back with your product and service. This is just one man’s opinion but if ETS or Jim’s had a better burrito or taco than Lloyd Taco Trucks, I would have continued to eat there, however they don’t, it’s not close and I think Lloyd has one of the best burritos in the city, if not the best. I think The Roaming Buffalo has one of the best burgers. I also love the pulled pork, greens and sides at The Whole Hog and R & R BBQ. I go to them because they are better. To use a bit of street slang, I find this whole situation to be player-hating of the highest order. To date, no restaurant has gone out of business because of a food truck but maybe some of them should if they can’t step up their game and keep up with the times. Why can’t any brick and mortar get a food truck of their own? I heard a rumor that The Place on Lexington is doing just that. Good for them. It will expand their business and customer base and they can reach out to people who never heard of them or knew of their whereabouts. It’s smart business.        

The restaurants know that winter is the toughest time of the year for the food trucks, especially in colder climates like this one. This long cold winter with no legislation could potentially cost the Buffalo area a few trucks and possibly more of the aspiring ones who sit on the sidelines waiting to see what the council will do before they dive completely in. With the economy how it is and how it has been in this area for decades, the high taxes, the abnormally high gas prices and living in an economically recessed area like this one which some might say is about 50 years past it’s prime, you would think lawmakers would want to encourage new business and actually I dunno, do their job and make laws that help to raise this area back up again.

As a lifelong Buffaloian I can tell you my love for this city runs deep and despite the lack of jobs and opportunities, I still think of Buffalo as a great place to live. A big part of the reason I do is the quality of life here. For most of us the quality of life is largely broken down into nature, sports and then arts and culture. Right now the sports are doing fine and we’re all better for it… anyone who thinks otherwise need only to check the office mood the morning after a Bills game. But the other side of it, the arts and culture side has been under siege by a hopefully soon to be leaving county executive who doesn’t think arts and culture funding is fiscally responsible and a common council afraid to act and give the people what they want.

At this week’s hearing The Director of Activism and Coalitions for the nationally known Institute for Justice, Christina Walsh flew up here on her own dime to talk to the council about the importance of passing legislation for the trucks and making Buffalo a trendsetter at the lead of the movement. She also set the record straight discussing the misconceptions about food trucks and backed it up with numbers and facts. From what I understand she dazzled those in attendance with facts and logic. I guess that kind of language scared and/or confused the council. At the September public hearing the Food Truck Association presented the council with a petition that had over 5,000 signatures collected in mere days in support of the food trucks. Such passionate support for such a new enterprise can only attest to the growing and continued popularity of these trucks. It’s time to put up or shut up Buffalo. We want them, give them to us!   

Put something together and TRY it. Find out what works and what doesn’t. Draft some short term legislation and let’s find out what’s fair and what isn’t. Let’s see what happens and then we can tweak it to make it better but DO something! The food trucks have been fighting the bureaucracy of the politicians and the stall tactics of the brick and mortars for over a year now with no end in sight. They have petitions, online fans in the thousands and even national advocates for freedom speaking on their behalf. What they don’t have is legislation. This is a critical point in the process. Some of the trucks may not make it through the winter or be forced to relocate to a city more inviting than Buffalo has been so far. Imagine that… a Buffalo rooted food truck thriving in another city because Buffalo didn’t want them! It’s time for the common council to sit down with both sides and get this thing done. The people want long overdue action. Forgive me if I’m not too confident in the council to act but this week’s inaction by putting the issue aside only strengthens the long standing cynical belief among many citizens that City Hall is the place where good ideas go to die. Let’s change that long standing cynicism and transform City Hall from graveyard to the institution we all hoped it could be. Buffalo Common Council the ball is your court. The people have spoken. Get it done!   

On bullying (10-5-11)

My heart is broken to read about the story of Jamey Rodemeyer. It’s all over the local and national news but in case you missed it he was a 14 year old kid who went to Williamsville North High School who killed himself recently due to the deep pain he felt generated by the hate of others. He was bullied since the 5th grade said the reports, which was about at least 4-5 years of hate he suffered until he could no longer endure it. This story and this topic touches me deeply because of the things I went through at exactly the same age Jamey was.

I didn’t have to deal with the same personal issues Jamey did but I had my own. Growing up an interracial kid was often tough. I didn’t know who I was. I’ve touched on it in many of my poems. Was I white? Was I Puerto Rican? I didn’t know many mixed kids. Back then there weren’t many. The white kids would often consider me “dirty” because I was half Hispanic and the Hispanic kids would say things like “you’re not a real Puerto Rican”. Compounding this problem was my inability to speak Spanish which further distanced me from Latin kids. My father never spoke it around me. It’s always something I wished I had asked him about. Because of this most of my friends when I was little were black, white and Native American.

During junior high I got along okay. I was a smart kid but a lazy one. I followed the crowd most of the time and tried really hard to not stick out or be singled out like some of the “nerds” and “geeks”. This lack of effort cost me when it came time for high school. I applied for a good city high school like Hutch Tech but I didn’t make it in. I let my average slip from a 96 in 6th grade to a 78 in 8th grade. I wasn’t trying at all to grow or excel and that was the price I paid to be one of the crowd and be left alone.

Without getting into a “better” high school I had to go to Grover Cleveland High since I lived closest to it. Prior to starting high school my best friend moved to Texas. My other good friend had left a few years earlier to go to California, so there I was, without anyone close and starting life in a whole new world. In Junior high I was in a class with many kids I had known for years, whether we were friends or not. But now, in high school without a friend to follow, without a kliq I knew to emulate I kind of did my own thing. I grew my hair long and wore ripped up jeans and black rock n roll t-shirts. It was the first time in my life where I actually demonstrated any style. Till then, my style was basic jeans and button downs, slacks and polo shirts…all very boring and vanilla. Now I was starting to experiment and I began down the path to figuring out who I was.

Ninth grade was pretty brutal. I was a quiet kid. I didn’t talk to too many people, didn’t make many new friends. The vast majority of Grover was made up of Hispanic and Black kids and they didn’t care for how I looked I guess. To them I looked like a freaky white kid. There were very FEW of those at Grover. I wasn’t allowed to sit with anyone “cool” at lunch. In fact most of the time I sat with the foreign kids who could barely speak any English at all. For several months my lunch neighbors were a pack of kids from Poland and Russia. We never spoke. I tried to move to other tables but was told to get lost all the time, sometimes in a threatening manner. They called me freak, weirdo, queer, Satan worshipper and many other wonderful things. I even tried to befriend the other handful of kids who wore black t-shirts and shredded jeans but they didn’t want anything to do with me either. They wore Megadeth t-shirts and here I was with my Def Leppard one. I wasn’t even cool enough for the outcasts.

By my sophomore year it had gotten so bad that I was absent 60-something times from school. I remember the truant officer advised me to take advantage of my 16th birthday before junior year started and drop out of school. I guess he was sick of having to check up on me. I wasn’t a bad kid. I didn’t ditch school, I simply faked illness A LOT to get out of it and stayed home. In the meantime my studies were at the lowest point they had ever been. I had about a 68 average. I barely passed 10th grade and I didn’t care. I had no interest in going to classes where people would sabotage my desk so it would fall apart when I sat in it. I didn’t want to sit at a lunch table with foreign kids who wouldn’t give me a simple greeting while having peas thrown at me by the cool kids from their cool table. I never bothered anyone, always kept to myself and all I truly wanted was to be left alone. I was cheating myself out of an education as well because coming to school was so hard.

As 10th grade ended I didn’t care about school, had no friends, couldn’t get a female to even look at me and still didn’t have any clue who I was other than a reject. Things looked pretty bleak and I wondered what the next step would be as I had the summer to figure it out. Thankfully two nice things happened over that summer that changed the course of my life and maybe saved me from being pushed into oblivion. The first was that my good friend came back from Texas so then I had someone to pal around with. I decided that maybe I shouldn’t do my own thing anymore. On the one hand I regressed as I cut my hair and started dressing like everyone else again but on the other I didn’t feel so alone and isolated out there which was obviously not something I was ready for yet.

The other good thing that happened was that I grew a few more inches and suddenly I was 6’2” and 180 pounds. I was long and lanky. I was fast and very athletic. My friend who spent 2 years in Texas and who was indoctrinated into their football society suggested we both try out for the Grover High team. I had been playing pick up football and lightpost football in the street since I could remember so I agreed even though I was scared beyond belief.

I went out in the summer, made the team and watched in awe as almost immediately some people began to treat me differently. There I was on the first day of school, no longer a mutant because I was now a jock. It really was just like the movies. I’d walk down the hall and I’d get a “what’s up Gomez” from people who would have made fun of me a year before. I had successfully rehabilitated my image to some but there were others who might have painted me a dumb jock. One of them was this female I was enamored with. She wouldn’t give me the time of day. She was pretty, smart and quite popular. Just being a football player wasn’t enough to get her to say more than a polite hello to me. She had a negative opinion of football players and with good reason; they were among the biggest dicks in the school. I had to turn it up.

I started going to all my classes and I stopped pretending to be sick to get out of going to school. By the end of the first quarter I had become known for being a tough football player and my average shot up from the upper 60’s of sophomore year to the mid 90’s. Many administrative people at school were very impressed. I now would stop in the hall and have conversations with certain teachers. People saw me in a whole new light. I went from weird, quiet kid that never spoke and was never around to always smiling, always pleasant to everyone. I no longer needed to walk the halls with my head down. I came out of my shell and I thought I left the pain and being pushed around behind.

You’ve probably heard this saying in one shape or form: no matter how cool you think you are, there’s always someone cooler. Perhaps you heard it with smart and smarter, or fast and faster. Regardless, there were still the über-cool at school and those people didn’t accept me because I wasn’t cool to begin with so I wasn’t a “pureblood” and there was still the occasional reject kids who didn’t like me for one reason or another, maybe jealousy because I bypassed them. I had a run-in with a few of them in study hall one time during that junior year and it reminded me both how far I had to go and also that I would never get there.

I still remember the moment vividly. I was sitting alone in a half full study hall and I was flipping through the first college brochure I ever had. Because my grades turned around I actually began to consider the next level. I even dressed better as I often wore button down dress shirts and slacks instead of ratty t-shirts and jeans. I got my hair cut and I even brushed it most days. I was on a whole new path and I was letting myself get intoxicated with it. I was flipping through this book filled with information on hundreds of colleges excited at the prospects now in front of me when something very light and long hit my head. It was still there. I reached up and pulled a lollipop stick from my hair. Thankfully, it didn’t stick too much.

Someone ate a sucker and basically threw the stick at me when they were done. Rage swept over me. The rage I felt was nearly as surprising to me as the incident itself. Who would dare throw this in my hair? Don’t they know who I am now? This was the kind of thing that happened to the old me. I looked over and saw a group of four guys in the back corner of the classroom giggling. With the lollipop stick in my hand I sprung up from my desk and made the quickest route to them, throwing aside empty desks in my wake. I stood before all of them and screamed “WHO DID IT!?!”

These kids were Spanish kids who didn’t speak much English. No one really knew who they were as they stuck to their own little groups and remained mostly invisible at school. They took special classes taught in Spanish and didn’t really cross paths with the majority of students except for at lunch, in gym or in a study hall. I had never said a word to one, nor ever did anything to any of these four kids. They were laughing and feeling good about themselves until I stormed over and called their bluff.

The biggest one of the group got up and started making gestures and acting tough. Without hesitating I threw a thrust kick right at his face and just missed him. He was shocked that I wasn’t there to posture and play games like people did in those times where the majority of the fight was mostly talking and getting in someone’s face rather than actual combat. With his friends watching and I already having thrown the first attack he decided to bum rush and tackle me. He charged and ran right into my midsection and nothing happened. I didn’t fall back and he didn’t move me. He was stuck there vulnerable and foolish. With a keen memory of all the bullying, teasing and harassing I dealt with the past 2 years my rage had made me powerful. I was lashing out now for all the times I didn’t, for all the times I couldn’t. I reached down and grabbed the guy and thrust him up over my head and violently onto the floor behind me. I wrapped my arm around his chin and began pulling on a headlock/chokehold which had my opponent helpless. As my grip on his head and neck tightened my conscious mind rebooted and began operating again. I thought, oh this isn’t good. I let my emotions get the better of me in what wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time it would happen. I decided not to elevate this further so I stopped trying to defeat him. I ceased wrenching on his guy’s neck and basically used just enough force to hold him there until teachers and administrators arrived.

It was only a few more seconds and then 2 teachers and an assistant principal ran in. They told me to release him and I did, putting my two hands up into the air in kind of a “you got me” position. My red-faced foe took the opportunity to punch me in the back of the head as I did that. It angered me but his punch had nothing on it, probably because I almost choked him out. I didn’t even turn around. I walked right into the assistant principal’s office and stated what had happened. I didn’t go with any of the typical juvenile behavior, no lying or making up stuff to seem innocent. I just said he threw a lollipop stick in my hair and I wasn’t going to stand for it. The fact that there wasn’t a teacher or anyone in the room probably enabled these kids to do what they did which caused my reaction to it. So the teacher was at fault because he was elsewhere while this occurred and it was also my fault for escalating it. Because of my excellent turnaround scholastically and my sincerity describing the incident I got less punishment than the other kid. I was 16 years old and that was the last fight I’ve ever been in.

On one hand I was proud I stood up for myself but on the other hand I was both embarrassed and frightened by my actions. Many years of being pushed around and made fun of built an impressive and unfortunate amount of rage inside of me. I am confident in any skirmish but quite frankly I’m also afraid of what I could do if I was pushed too far. That said I still carry a lot of pain from throughout my life within. It seeps out occasionally when I cry at a weird time during a movie, like at a particularly happy moment. My emotions come pouring out of me at times, sometimes very easily so I am glad it takes a lot to make me angry.

I had always scribbled. I drew pictures of things, I wrote little stories. But sometime after that fighting incident I began to write poetry and journals. I thought about how angry I was and how I snapped and unleashed all this bottled up pain. I thought maybe if I began to address the things inside that eat away at me I might be able to rid myself of some if not all of it, plus in the process of writing out things I thought it might be a good way to get acquainted and learn more about myself. It isn’t a cure all but I’d say writing has helped me greatly to better understand myself and my actions. It helps me to vent and release when I run into frustrating things in the world so I can move on to the next moment. Writing helped me to survive it all. Many kids talk about “surviving” their childhood, often in jest but I really feel like I survived mine.

So here I am, all grown up and having lived both sides of it. I was shy and uncool. I was a geek, a freak, a mutant and a nerd. I was also a jock, I was chatty, bright and cool. To this day I am all those things. It took me a long time to figure out a person could be. When you’ve been on both sides of the scope I guess it’s easier to see the target and know what it’s like to aim.

To this day I still hate bullying and making someone feel bad because of who they are, who they aren’t, what they have, what they don’t. What would have happened if I didn’t grow big and tall, play sports and improve my grades? Would I have killed myself? Harmed others? Would I have led a rough and tumble life? I’ve always had a big heart but I’ve also always been passionate, fiery and emotional. I often root for the underdog and if a big guy is pushing a little guy around it pisses me off and a lot of times I say something. I have a strong sense of justice and I deeply hate when evil goes unpunished.

Many of those days and nights long ago when bullies pushed me around I never thought about suicide but I often thought of revenge. I always love to see the bad guy get their comeuppance. I’ve always had revenge fantasies and some of my favorite films are revenge films and vigilante films. My unfinished novel “Tableturning” is all about common guys getting sick of being stepped on and doing something about it. All these strong feelings and deeply embedded impulses exist all because some people pushed me around and made me to feel inferior. I was lucky to get out, get away from the abuse but some people aren’t so lucky. Some can’t escape it and it consumes them. Some like Jamey, can only endure so much hate while others feel the need to inflict pain and suffering on others in order to feel right themselves. There’s a saying about tearing down others to pick yourself up. Don’t do it. Look inside yourselves and figure out what’s wrong with YOU not what is wrong with someone else. Don’t inflict your unhappiness on others. The damage you can do may last a lifetime or even worse shorten one.

I hope Jamey Rodemeyer found peace. In many ways I think I’ve found some level of peace with myself to sustain me in this life but I’ve never found complete peace with the world. There’s a lot of evil and hate out there. It’s sad but it’s the truth. I may have to accept it but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. In this moralistic war I try to use love and kindness as my weapons and I’m aware of what good can do but I’m also well aware of my emotions, my limitations and my short comings. I’m aware of what I am capable of if pushed too hard and too far. I hope no one else ever has to find out. RIP Jamey.

Raccoons, Crackheads and Me (9-29-11)

What a crazy week of work it’s been! I type this knowing full well it’s only Thursday and more crazy things can occur but wow, we’ve had enough excitement to last a few months around here!

It all began with Monday morning. We came in to a workplace that was shredded. Food was all over, many boxes and garbage cans were tipped over onto their sides. The place was a mess. It looked like a crazy party happened the night before. It also looked like someone ransacked the place looking for something and then stopped to eat whatever food was around is a very messy fashion. Three possibilities were discussed; there could have been a wild party, someone broke in to rob us or an animal got loose in the place. Or possibly an animal broke in to rob our food and have a wild party. We eliminated the first two ideas after we could determine no entry point for someone to come in from the outside. Then on someone’s desk a cup of water was spilled and the wet desk provided wet, dirty footprints that identified the culprit. It was a raccoon. The print was far too big for it to be a squirrel, rat or mouse.

Our company called Orkin and they would be coming the next day. In the meantime there was a lot of cleanup to do. Crackers, pretzels, cookies and any food anyone had stored at or near their desk was on the floor in a finely grounded powder and crumbs. At my desk I had no food, but in my garbage can I had a wrapper from a sub I had on Saturday and that was shredded! The paper was everywhere and you could even see a few tiny pieces of lettuce from the previously balled up wrapper scattered about. Before we left for the day everyone had to make sure their food was secured in the fridge or in some container so we didn’t have a repeat of the night before.   

The next morning we came in and it struck again albeit on a smaller scale. This time it shredded the used tea bag in my garbage can making it look like the pot after the bag was opened and all the leaves were spread around. A co-worker lost his hot chocolate packets as those were ripped open and tossed about. The Orkin man (yes, it actually was a guy) showed up and put out these caged traps to catch the little critter lathered with food it would like as bait. I wondered what would happen to the raccoon once it was caught. Would they release it somewhere in the wild? Would it be put down? Seems like it would be cheaper (and obviously more humane) to release it somewhere but maybe I’m just naïve thinking that they would do that.

So Wednesday morning came and I went to work a little later. On my way in I wondered if we caught something. There were 2 traps inside and 2 in the parking lot. I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if we caught a stray cat or even a stray crackhead in the traps in the lot. When I arrived, I learned we did catch a raccoon in one of the traps inside the building.

When you see your desk area and workspace trashed it can make you a little upset. You’ve got to clean up and put things back in their rightful places. Depending on how much inconvenience, it can make someone very upset but when you are looking into the eyes of this captured critter you begin to feel sad. There I was looking eye to eye with the raccoon. It was the closest I’d ever been to one. It was just sitting there in the cage, looking haggard and dirty but with the same cute face they are known for. It just sat there looked resigned to it’s’ fate. Earlier that morning I was told it ran back and forth inside the cage, hissed, clawed and did everything it could to escape or keep people away from it but now it just sat there. If its eyes weren’t open and staring at me I would have thought it was asleep. There was no movement, no sound. I felt sorry for the little guy.

When the Orkin guy showed we asked what would happen to the creature and we were told it would be euthanized. I didn’t get it, why not just let it go somewhere out in the wild? It wasn’t my decision to make though and since I wasn’t going to capture the creature and transport it somewhere myself, I guess I had no say in this one. I took a picture of it and said goodbye.

It wasn’t the same feeling as when the 2 or 3 kittens were trapped in our building a year or so ago but still, I wished there was another way. The Orkin man said he’d come back in the few days just to make sure there weren’t any more and he left with the raccoon caged in the back.

I came into work late again today because I wanted to watch the Buffalo Common Council public hearing on food trucks. It went a little over 90 minutes and I was surprised that the brick and mortar restaurant side only had a lawyer present who read a 2-3 minute statement explaining that the restaurants wanted to come together and find a fair solution. The other hour and half was dialogue from each food truck proprietor currently operating, a few lawyers and a whole lot of citizens and about 95% of them were in favor of the trucks. Particularly funny was the owner of Zetti’s who came off sounding like an idiot in a short statement where he demonstrated the intelligence of a rock. Apparently restaurant owners like him have to provide things like bathrooms to customers and food trucks don’t. How profound. No bathrooms, I think we should outlaw food trucks! Anyway, the council continued to drag their feet but made incremental progress in appointing a committee with equal numbers of food truck representatives and brick and mortar to come together to hammer out an agreement on regulations for the trucks and then report back in 30 days. If both parties are satisfied and a plan is presented to the council after those 30 days, then they’ll vote on it and it could become the law that is so desperately needed here.

After the exciting public hearing I quickly made my way to work so I can put in a noon to 8pm shift and once I arrived I learned we had another overnight event and visitors. This time it was in the form of robbers who broke in and stole my bosses’ computer, printer, scanner and all her other components plus the digital camera off my desk. We’re still discovering little things they have taken like keys and the like. They smashed the front glass door and made a beeline to our area behind the store and tried to break into a file cabinet where we keep petty cash. They’d obviously been back here and knew where the money was. That’s the danger we face when we let potential customers come to our back room and check out new and overstock vinyl, CDs, books and DVDs. Sometimes they don’t really want to buy anything; sometimes I guess they are just casing the joint.

Thankfully the alarms blaring forced them to leave quickly before they could steal 4 or 5 computers or even more. They didn’t take anything from the store in front other than keys (although not the right keys for the cabinet) so they knew what they wanted and where it was. I’m also thinking they must have been pretty desperate to try something like this. Maybe it’s a stereotype but I’m thinking drugs would make someone do something so desperate and foolish.

We’ve had police here off and on today, a person to fix the door, a computer guy to hook my boss up with a new temporary setup and a lot to talk about. The police notified us that they caught one of the guys involved already as he tried to sell some of the stuff they took and got busted. So it looks like we may get some or most of the valuables back. The computer obviously has our name on it, even on the login so there can be no mistaken identity. 

Speaking of mistaken identity, the last part of this is a brief story of when the cops arrived last night. One of the store assistant managers was called and he met the cops here at around 3am as the store alarm was blaring. They came inside the store and took a preliminary look around to check on damage and what was missing when from above they heard rustling. The cops immediately told the assistant manager to be quiet and speculated that they may still be here but hiding upstairs. I don’t think the response time was that great, but it was certainly possible. The upstairs area where they were hiding was a little used old section of the store that accumulated dust more than anything else and the police slowly made their way up there to nab the perpetrators. Upon climbing up the stairs the police officer shined his light and staring back at him was 3-4 raccoons. Although raccoons do look like old-fashioned burglars with that black mask covering their eye area, these weren’t exactly the bandits we were looking for. With every morning at work this week being an adventure, all of this makes me wonder what will be on tap for tomorrow.

Getting Away From it All (9-23-11)

Okay, who here really needs a vacation? Alright, everyone put your hands down. Some people need one more than others, and hey you over there, didn’t you just come back from one a few weeks ago? I’m not talking about daytrips either. Those are wonderful but you can’t sink your teeth into them because you are back that night. I mean, I haven’t even been on one of THOSE in a long time, but a real honest to goodness vacation where you are gone at least a weekend, now that’s something I haven’t done in at least 5 years. I think the last one was when I went to Chicago for a few days to visit an ex-girlfriend. We went to the United Center to see the Sabres play the Blackhawks and I walked around the Windy City and took in lots of sights and sounds which is one of my favorite things to do when I go somewhere… find a good spot and wander around for hours and hours.

Anyway, I feel like I’m long overdue for another trip but with a tight budget and without someone to go somewhere with or to go see, I just haven’t been able to get away. Life can get dull without a little spice sprinkled into it. Routines are good and necessary for me but to function efficiently but every now and then I need more. That’s why last night was very much needed and appreciated.

On the final night of summer I went to Nietzsche’s to see 2 bands play: Clandestina y La Raza Cosmica (cosmic race) and the 12/8 Path Band. Now the first band is one that I’ve seen a few times recently and absolutely love but the 2^nd is one that I hadn’t seen in nearly as long as it’s been since I’ve gone on a vacation! When I tried to describe them to someone I realized I couldn’t. It had only been about 5 years! I remembered that there were plenty of percussionists and that I had a good feeling about them. I just read this quote by Maya Angelou the other day and it’s very true; “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” I couldn’t remember much of anything about the 12/8 Path Band but I remembered I felt good watching them all those years ago so they must have been a good band.  

Clandestina y La Raza Cosmica went on first and I sat back and soaked it all in. It was heavenly. The infectious rhythms had me smiling for nearly the entire set. My feet tapped repeatedly and my hips and shoulders swayed from side to side despite the fact that I was sitting in a chair. I was tempted to get up and dance which is saying a lot for me. Clandestina y La Raza Cosmica plays a Mexican folk music called Son Jarocho. I could try to explain it but here’s a link to help with that: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Son_Jarocho  It is fun, charming music that makes me feel like I’m somewhere else when I hear it. That’s part of the reason I like it so much. It takes me away from my job, from my problems, from my insecurities and my fears. Any good band will do that for you, they’ll take you away for a little while but since this was more of an exotic band compared to what’s playing in Buffalo venues, I feel like the music takes me farther away than a good rock n roll band could. It was more than being “not here”. I actually felt like I WAS someplace else… someplace warm, inviting and relaxed. I’ve never been to Mexico so I couldn’t say it felt like I was in Mexico, but I have been to Puerto Rico and maybe it kind of reminded me of that. The point is I didn’t feel like I was sitting in a bar on a work night wondering when I should go home. I was lost in melodic bliss unaware of time and place. You can’t beat that on a work night.  

When the next band started I had good feelings about it. Both in that comforting feeling I mentioned earlier about seeing them in the past despite not remembering exactly what they sounded like, and also because when they were ready to begin they were a sea of percussion and horns and pardon my slang, but ain’t nuthin wrong with that! They began to play and suddenly I felt I was in Louisiana as they had a Cajun groove going. The style was equally infectious as the first band. At times they sounded like a College Marching band freestyling it and others like a drumline with a conscience. They mixed funk, classic jazz and I don’t know how many exotic world styles into an awesome display. I felt like we should have started our own parade and marched right out of Nietzsche’s and down Allen street together spreading love and good energy to all those in our way.

When their set ended, Clandestina y La Raza Cosmica came back to play again and as they got several minutes into their 2^nd set my friend reminded me of the time. Dammit, it was almost midnight and since it was a weekday, I had to work in the morning. It was time to get back into reality and be responsible again. My mini-vacation was over although I enjoyed immensely.

Today I feel a mild hangover. It’s not from drinking too much as I had very little booze. It’s that hangover you feel the day after you’ve gotten back from a trip. You know the one, the longer the time away the worse the hangover. Your body and mind need time to get back into the groove. Although my trip was short it was meaningful and since it was unexpected it was even more enjoyable. So despite feeling hungover, I do feel a little refreshed today as if I really did go away. Now I find myself looking forward to the next mini-trip while I work on that bigger one that’s long overdue.      

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Rice Pudding (9-15-11)

Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Rice Pudding (9-15-11) I don’t blog publicly that much anymore. Honestly, ever since my birthday and my poetry show I’ve hardly typed a word. I still scribble poetry or some random thoughts onto sheets of paper but I’ve been staying away from the keyboard. I’ll always have the pen, even when I’m going through a dry spell. In the last month I’ve only written a few new pieces but they are not in the same voice as my previous work. Nowadays my pieces have an underlying sadness to them, plus a hint of defeat or even gloom. I’ve always been a dreamer… a hopeful sort that no matter how bad things got or bleak they appeared, I’ve always hoped for brighter days. Sometimes I even took steps to provide them for myself and others. Lately I’m trying to provide brighter days for other people because that usually makes me feel great but it seems like those might be the only times I’m truly happy… when I’m doing things for others. I don’t know why I’m more apt to do something nice for someone else than I am for myself. Too much of my mother in me I guess.

Going back to when I was young, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with myself. I wouldn’t give myself the same patience and understanding I’d give a friend. I wouldn’t really mind if anyone messed up around me but I when made a mistake, whew would I be upset. I was and am so critical of myself, although not like I used to be. The fact that I give out mixtapes and perform poetry in public is proof of that. But I’m still critical. Back in the day I’d hate myself for my faults, my weaknesses, my impulses and the bad choices I would make while loving myself for my kindness, compassion, love and intelligence I possess. More simply a lot of times it would boil down to this conclusion: I’d love my heart but hate my head. They’d work in conflict with one another often and it would frustrate me. Why couldn’t everything be on the same page? Why couldn’t there be just one fully functional Edwin, with one Edwin agenda? If I know deep in my heart that I want to be thin again why does my mind allow me to keep doing the wrong things to get there?

Sometimes I wonder that if one day I achieve my goal of getting back into good shape, will I then move on to find another reason to hate myself? Like maybe my weight is my most glaring weakness so that’s what I’m fixated on. When that’s gone maybe I’d find something else. I’m bummed because this summer hasn’t gone the way I would have liked with my nagging ankle injury and other things preventing me from doing all the things I wanted physically and reaching the goals I set out. Now that the summer is ending, perhaps I’m feeling a bit like a failure and maybe that’s the heart of the matter and why I feel so blue lately.

There’s so much joy and hope and love for people and life within me but there’s also sadness, doubt and loneliness. All of those things are in there. I’ve talked about my personality type (INFJ) on several occasions and isolation and complexity are two of the most common traits of it. Life is a roller coaster ride but being who I am I love the highs and lament the lows more than most. Right now unfortunately I’m feeling some lows.

I think to me, right now the end of the summer insinuates many things, whether right or wrong, true or false. I think I feel like I lost the chance to get into “summer shape”. I think I will see my friends a lot less in the coming months. I think there will be less opportunities to get out and do fun community things. I think there’s less likelihood that I’ll meet someone to go bonkers over and hopefully vice versa because less people will be out now. All of those things along with the changes the new season brings have me feeling a bit down… like the party is over or the good times are fleeting. It’s a feeling that builds in the spring with each warm day and culminates when I am smack in the middle of a great time outside somewhere with friends all around in the middle of summertime. That’s not to say I couldn’t be out having a great time with a bunch of friends 2 months from now, but maybe I’m more inclined to believe such occasions occur with regularity in the summer and far less frequency, if at all in the winter. The truth is I don’t want to let the summer go.

While I do love the fall and the color, holidays, traditions, warm drinks, getting re-acquainted with half my wardrobe, crunching leaves, pumpkin flavored everything, football, hockey and more I guess I need to find closure to summer to get to the place where I can love the fall again. This is me, the last one to want to go home when having a good time and the one who is heartbroken when the good times end. I think I write more youthful, hopeful, optimistic poetry in the spring and old, sad, reflective poetry in the fall/winter. I guess it makes sense. As an empathetic individual I like to tell people I am a sponge when it comes to the emotions around me. I soak it all in. Perhaps I just pick up on people’s excitement and happiness for the spring and also people’s apprehension and sadness in advance of the colder times and my mood reflects it, sometimes surprisingly to me because I might not have felt that way and all of a sudden I do.

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Speaking of apprehension around me perhaps also fueling my gloomy mood of late is the political climate. I just don’t trust the American voters/people and as the Congressional elections in New York City and Nevada 2 nights ago proved, I have reason not to. Two Democratic congresspeople were ousted by Republican challengers in districts that have supported the Democrats for several years. Uh-oh. The Obama pile-on is getting out of control as he’s being blamed for everything under the sun despite not having a lot to do with it. I’m not foolish enough to think he’s done the greatest job but I also don’t think he’s done nearly as bad a job as people have said. I wish the guy could have gotten a fair try at it. That first year or so he had the opportunity to do some things but just as he was hitting his stride the mid-term elections switched the congressional power to the GOP and they’ve acted like nothing short of a spoiled brat ever since. This “my way or the highway” mentality is completely counter-productive, dangerous and cruel and they know it is.

They’ll never admit it while Obama’s in office but I feel like the last 2 years they’ve basically sabotaged his presidency and the short-term welfare of low-income Americans with their inability to be flexible despite that being the very essence of governing in a democracy. They’ve sabotaged Obama in order to regain control and when the plan comes to fruition they will continue pissing on the poor, outsourcing jobs, forcing God into everyone’s lives, widening the chasm between the classes, telling people who they can marry, giving tax breaks to their buddies and deregulating the stock market so the same filthy, cheating scumbags who started this recession with their greed and immorality can pick up where they left off robbing Americans blind. Did I leave anything out? They probably figure that most citizens are too stupid to realize that it’s not Obama’s fault because they pin every thing they can on him and are in a constant state of attack on him. Meanwhile they put a stop to anything the guy tries to pass and they quickly tear apart and squash any ideas the administration comes up with and then turn around and accuse the President of not doing anything. They’re absolutely burying the guy and recent poll numbers suggest a lot of people are buying into it.

I remember the feeling I had in 2004 when Bush won a 2nd term. I thought holy crap is America that dumb? I knew Kerry wasn’t anything special and I didn’t vote for him but I thought Bush was probably the worst president of my lifetime. That’s when I knew I couldn’t trust America to make the smarter choice. We live in a place with short attention spans, too many choices and people are more likely to keep up with the Kardashians than they are the issues of the day. In a lazy, spoiled society fixated on instant gratification like this one it seems the masses will listen to whoever is talking the loudest and saying what they want to hear and they’ll go with that. People look at bullying as fire and strength just as long as they’re talking loud and saying scary things. For many, it doesn’t even matter if they are is lying, being unfair or not making real sense, because quite frankly they’re blinded by their beliefs, their selfishness, their fears or simply their ignorance. I dunno folks, but I feel a storm is coming. I feel like we’ll have some crazy person who doesn’t give a crap about me and people like me like Rick Perry as president and then we’ll see how much we can take. If they haven’t already, the poor will start to get very angry. Maybe that’s what we need. Maybe we need a revolution. Maybe we need riots and marches and demonstrations. I mean, it’s been too long since we’ve had a meaningful cultural rebellion around here and how else will the rich and their minions realize that we’re all in this together? There’s still a naïve part of me that hopes that one day we’ll figure it out and do what’s right for all of us but as I said earlier I don’t trust voting Americans. History has shown us the fat cats will go too far and then it’s up to us to check them and bring humility back into the equation. The gap between the rich and poor is bigger than I’ve ever seen. How much longer can it go on like this?

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On the happy side of things, this weekend looks like a really fun one as I will be busy and walking that line between sports and art that I love to balance on. Friday night starts off with culture and the Ghost Walk of Allentown. I guess I’m going to hear some of the legends of the Allentown area and as much as I am a skeptic, I also am also kinda open minded and very fascinated by the supernatural. On Saturday I have 3 football games. That’s right 3! If my injured leg will hold up I’ll be playing at 11, 3 and 4. After that is rushing home to get ready for Music is Art and I will spend the rest of my day soaking in the atmosphere, music and food of what might be the last great festival of the summer season around here. Sunday I’m going to get together with the fellas and watch the surprising Bills take on the Raiders in what should be a very winnable game for Buffalo. When the game ends I am going to venture out into Bidwell Park and enjoy friends and sunshine. So there it is, friends, music, culture, folklore, sports watching and sports playing. Now that’s a weekend!

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And lastly, last night I came this [ ] close to making a decent batch of homemade rice pudding. My cooking skills are not, how shall we say, highly evolved. BUT, I’ve been dabbling with rice pudding off and on for years trying to make a good batch. There have been some decent results but nothing like the memories of phenomenal rice pudding at Christmastime with family when I was little. I will keep trying and I may never get there, but I must go on because even when it’s close, it’s still alright! Let’s face it, I’m just a man in search of love, meaning and amazing rice pudding.

Anyone have any EASY to follow rice pudding recipes? Please share!

Confessions of a thankful poet (8-3-11)

I left work by 3:30 even though I wasn’t planning on being at the venue until 6ish. The simple fact was that I couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of me. There was work and lots of it but all I could do was stare at my monitor. The only words I was concerned with were my own, dancing around in my head. In a manner of hours I would be reading about 10 of my pieces for the biggest crowd I’d ever read in front of... by far. Anxiety was setting in. So was self doubt. Were my pieces good enough? Would I be able to read them clearly? Would my voice hold up for the 30 minutes? I had never read in public for more than 10 minutes and this half hour show at the 2011 Buffalo Infringement Festival was as ambitious a step as I’ve ever tried to make. I’ve done radio, writing, even a short film, but this was just me, in front of everyone and everything armed with only my mind, my heart and my voice.

I left my desk at least an hour earlier than I planned to but it felt like the right thing to do since I was useless at work. I sat down at home and turned on the television in an effort to take my mind off my concerns. Every now and then I’d tell myself that I’d have fun and everything would be fine but the anxieties were talking louder, faster and more often. I needed to get out of my head for a few hours. I needed a distraction. I needed something positive. I needed something inspiring. I needed something fun. So I grabbed Scott Pilgrim vs. the World and threw it into the DVD player. It’s one of my favorite films of the past few years. I’ve seen it 4 or 5 times now. It’s funny, silly, well crafted and I absolutely drool over Ramona Flowers. Please Ramona, take me away.

Fast forward 1 hour and 53 minutes later and now I have to rush around and get ready for the show rendering me unable to think about much other than the task at hand. Where’s my t-shirt?!? Where’s my fedora!?! Thankfully the nearly 2 hours of mild mind did the trick. I say mild because you can’t shut it off completely but when you are watching a film and really into it, it’s almost like a time machine. You lose track of time and nothing else matters. Suddenly it’s 90 minutes or in this case 113 minutes later. In hindsight I think that helped me a lot but not nearly as much as getting there early and letting myself enjoy and soak in the moment would.

I had offers for several rides down but I thought that none of them would get me down to the gallery early enough for what I needed. Whenever I go to a large event, especially one that I am starring in I like to get there early. I like to see the space, stretch out, relax and get acclimated to it. This always helps with my level of calm and peace of mind. Those friends who’ve seen me when we walk into a crowded bar will understand what I am saying. So I went down on my own in order to get there early.

I arrived at the gallery at about 6:10, which gave me near an hour of time to get into the groove before going on. The other poet I was performing with was the only person there. He was sitting on the step outside. He mentioned that the gallery door was locked and it appeared no one was there yet, well of course except for us. I introduced myself and quickly noticed he was rocking a plaid fedora. Are fedoras the official headwear of poets? We’ve come a long way from berets baby!

We talked for about 10 minutes and I found out we went to the same 2 grade schools which put me more at ease. Something about walking common roads makes me feel like other people are no different from me. It chips away at the fears and anxieties of being strangers. He told me the story behind his work and what he would be doing. I didn’t talk much about mine other than to say it was silly and passionate. As it got closer to 6:30 a few more people arrived. Technically my new friend would go on at 6:30 for 15 minutes and then I’d go on at 7 after a short break. The gallery opened just after 6:30 and we went in to get right.

I watched the first poet and he was very comfortable speaking in public. He read through 5 pieces and 4 limericks and basically made fun of the poems before, during and after he read them. It was pretty relaxed and as he read the crowd grew. Since the gallery owner slightly overslept on his nap we had a late start but it didn’t matter. If anything it helped because people who thought they were 5 to 10 minutes late showed up right on time.

After a short break spent talking to friends who showed up to see me read, which kept me out of my head, I sat on a stool in front and grabbed a stack of papers with the pre-ordered pieces all set to go. As I looked at the paper in front of me I could only see one word “Fear”. That’s not to say I was petrified or anything, that was just the name of the first piece at the top of the first page. For some reason I thought of the great sword fight between the Dread Pirate Wesley and Inigo Montoya in the Princess Bride. The two men face each other in stances and prepare for battle. The only word uttered comes from Montoya who says “begin” and then the steel starts flying. I looked up from the page and saw every seat filled in the room and several people standing on the edges and before it could set in, before I could start to feel afraid I said “begin” and began through the 16 lines of “Fear”. Whenever I read it I like to do it first because it reminds me to overcome my fear and enjoy the moment. When I had finished it, I knew I was smack in the middle of a good one.

I welcomed everyone to that moment and talked briefly about my show. I wished everyone a “Happy Shark Week”, thanked the gallery owner, the opening poet and the festival. I then started the buildup for my next piece “The Day I Switched from Coke to Pepsi” and away I went. I just kept pounding them off the same as when I read them in my apartment for the past several weeks… except this was different. There was a crowd and with the completion of each piece and the applause that followed I grew stronger. I’d look up from the page and see old friends, new friends and strangers looking back at me, wanting to hear my work. It was exciting and amazing.

If the younger me from even a few years ago could have seen myself Monday night, I would have been dumbfounded. The younger me would have said; “what, me read in front of people… you must be joking”. I’ve always been an intensely private person so much so that sometimes my closest friends wouldn’t know exactly how I felt but Monday night was so liberating. I feel like I opened up my chest, peeled back all the skin and showed the room my heart. In a moment like that, where I’m sharing my thoughts, my fears and my passions with a room mixed with people I know as well as people I don’t, I feel naked. I know it’s a cliché but when they say poets bare themselves to the audience, they really do. People told me I looked calm and composed up there. All there was were the words. Especially after the first few pieces and through to the end, I was just in a zone I guess. I wasn’t thinking, I wasn’t worried and I wasn’t afraid. I was finding my voice and really enjoying the discovery. After the show I was reminded of the journey to this day.

I think back to 2007 and 2008 sitting in the crowd at the monthly Nickel City Poetry Slam, hosted and presented by the late Gabrielle Bouliane. I went every month except for December 2007 because just a few hours before the slam I was struck by a car on Delaware and Allen. I remember lying on a bed at ECMC being upset about missing the slam. There I was with a broken leg, torn knee ligament and badly bruised tailbone more upset because I couldn’t go to the poetry slam. They meant so much to me. I got to see Buddy Wakefield, Carlos Andres Gomez, Mike McGee, Corbet Dean and so many other great poets plus local poets who inspired me most of all. Here were people who could be my neighbors, my co-workers or people I could conceivably pass walking down the street. They were up there. I started to believe at that time I could be too. I started to realize I wanted to be a poet and then somewhere along the way I started to realize I already was.

This past year as I have been putting pieces together I think back to those days often. I draw inspiration from everything around me whether it’s memories, new friends, butterflies, other poets, philosophy, religion and apparently Swedish fish. I hope I can keep getting my thoughts together onto a page and reading them out for anyone who will listen. The rush is amazing and when there’s love for it, I feel invincible.

In case anyone missed it, a writer from the Buffalo News caught the show and wrote about it here: http://blogs.buffalonews.com/gusto/2011/08/a-roundup-of-infringement-day-5.html I feel so fortunate that he stopped by.

In closing I think I've said thank you about 150 times since Monday and I feel like I haven't said it nearly enough. I'm in another world since then, where anything is possible and where I am empowered and emboldened to make even more happen. There's been music all week, wherever I've been and the melody is so sweet. I think I'll sway to the rhythm and savor this for at least a few more days. Thanks!

Seems like a really good time to invest in gold. (7-25-11)

I’m going to admit right off the bat that I don’t comprehend politics as well as some Americans do. Occasionally I get sucked into an issue or a period (2008) of movement but for the most part I stay away from it. Quite frankly it’s maddening. It’s also frustrating and sickening when I hear about the stuff happening in our nation’s capital. The absence of logic, compassion and honor really piss me off. Politicians will routinely lie or distort the truth to serve their needs. They’ll attack their opponents without knowing all the facts and sometimes even make things up completely to win elections and sway voters. Illogically, some favor the needs of the few over the needs of many. You can’t count on them to do the right thing either. They’ll put a spin on their choices, point fingers and find scapegoats when the buck should really stop with them. I find politics to be turning into the greatest reality game show of all. It’s just that it is so incredibly boring and convoluted that the common American and their short attention span will abandon the trek very quickly to get back to some Angry Birds, Facebook and their easier to follow reality shows. I’m not immune to this myself. Plus the politicians know how ridiculously boring and convoluted things are and so they encourage it and exacerbate it to keep most of us ignorant as to what’s going on. The more attentive we are, the more decisions they have to make. The more we cared, the more we would expect from them. Okay, anyway with that in mind I’m going to rant about politics, the GOP, the economy, the debt ceiling and who knows what else. It’s just an opinion but dammit it’s mine!

From my blog:

I've had it with government and politics. All they do these days is play games… very dangerous games. This country is in abysmal shape and all they want to do is posture and act like children. I’d say they are too focused on the past and present but that’s not true. They are focused on the future, only it’s not the future health of our country or democracy it their political future or the political future of their party. No one wants to make a tough choice that could hurt them down the road even if it’s the best thing to do right now. There’s a lot to lose! You don’t want to aggravate the people with the deep pockets. The people with the most money have the most influence. This is how it has always been but in this age of visibility, media frenzy and instant gratification it feels like it’s out of control. Money rules all. About 30 years ago our government engaged in something called trickle down economics. The premise was that tax breaks for the rich would spark job creation and a reinvestment in our economy. In these 30 years what if anything has trickled down? During those 3 decades taxes were seriously slashed for the rich to the point where quite famously, people like Warren Buffet are paying the same tax rates as the people who work far underneath them. If you aren’t hurting too much from this downturn maybe you can muster a laugh because on paper this whole thing is comical. The GOP has maintained for a long time that slashing taxes will create jobs and will booster the economy. The slashes of federal tax rates during the Bush administration alone have been quite significant but where are these jobs? They haven’t trickled down to us yet, maybe to China or India but not around these parts. The truth is lowering taxes for the rich does not create jobs, it just lets them put more in their coffers for rainy days and frivolous spending binges or even bolsters their portfolios so they can buy up more of the world.

Since money is king, it seems like Washington doesn’t listen to regular people any longer. On top of that the people who are the most fanatical and dedicated (the tea party for instance) are often the ones who speak the loudest and try to speak for everyone. So the people the government ends up listening to besides the rich are ones who don’t speak for all of us because these people are often the craziest people out there. Their fanaticism, persistence and borderline insanity are what got someone’s ear. Their influence is being felt right now during the debt ceiling talks.

We’re on the verge of an unprecedented financial collapse into default and the GOP and their Tea party handlers are still adamant that the trillions of dollars needed to raise the debt ceiling and help to reduce our debt going forward come from the working class, middle class and the poor and their entitlement programs. Now that’s just rude. If you were out one night with 3 of your friends and those friends had only $20 each in their pockets and you had $2000, would you really allow THEM to buy YOU a round? I would hope not! If all other things were equal and you were with your friends I would imagine you wouldn’t mind buying rounds for everyone, maybe quite a few. Of course in this country in 2011, everything is not equal and we certainly do not consider other Americans to be our friends. The growing gap between the rich and the poor has become a Grand Canyon and the numbers of the middle class are shrinking and they know it. The fear and paranoia these times have given us have the middle class distracted and fighting each other for whatever crumbs are left by the rich. Meanwhile, the numbers of millionaires and billionaires are skyrocketing! Let’s face it. People are selfish and the ones on top look down on those beneath them. Oh well, should’ve made better choices. Should’ve went to school, stayed away from the booze, kissed more ass, had more guts, married rich, been luckier, etc. It’s like a person being right and then rubbing it in your face that you are wrong. Don’t you just hate that person? Don’t break your arm patting yourself on the back! How about just being happy to be right and how about helping other people to get it right like you did? Instead people turn a deaf ear to the cries of the unemployed, underemployed, sick, aging and unfortunate. How much is enough? How much is enough before the people getting stepped on can’t take any more? In olden times, revolutions were fought and royalty were overthrown and even beheaded for such offences! How much is enough?

Today I saw an article where President Obama is quoted as saying that the rich need to pay their “fair share”. Then I went to a few message boards where it seemed the sentiment was 50/50 as to whether they should. Some people suggested those who are deemed too poor to pay taxes should pay their fair share too. Others talked about how the rich already pay a significant percentage of the tax revenue in this country. I read somewhere recently where the top 1% of Americans control over 40% of the wealth in this country. Think about that. It’s a staggering amount. Just like when election time comes I’m thoroughly shocked that it seems 50% of Americans represent the ideals and desires of that 1%. Sure there’s more to it than that. There are social issues, religious views and so much more but what’s issue #1 with the vast majority of Americans lately and has been for the past few years? That’s right, the economy. Wake up people! The GOP is nothing more than a tool for the rich and righteous and I can only assume that the vast majority of Americans are neither. The fact that the country sent in the GOP in 2010 to destroy the incremental progress we had made climbing out of that massive hole during the first two years of the Obama Administration still mystifies me. That damn Obama didn’t fix everything fast enough! He didn’t bring any real change! This guy is all talk! And now because of the Republican controlled House, nothing gets done unless Obama bends over and “compromises” by giving the other side more than an equal amount of concessions. It’s happening now with the debt ceiling thing.

I don’t feel like the president has gotten a fair shake considering the extenuating circumstances surrounding his presidency but that’s neither here nor there. All I can say right now is dammit Obama don't give in! There are lives at stake! The poor and middle class have been beaten down enough! I'm so sick of all the proposed cuts to people who are already roughing it out even though the side that wants them is the side that put us into this mess with THEIR wars and THEIR uncontrolled spending despite most of us little people being against it. Did you know that on 5 occasions in the last 9 years the Republicans, including the ones who are at the head of the party now (Boehner, Cantor, McConnell), voted to raise the debt ceiling? Oh, it’s just that a Republican was president at the time so I guess that’s when it’s okay. The Bush Administration spent more than any Democrat ever did and handed Obama a recession, a grossly unbalanced budget and a lot of problems without solutions. Let’s never forget that! Oh and by the way, taxes are lower than they've been in 30 years. That, my friends is ridiculous in times like these where the number of billionaires and the record corporate profits grow nearly as fast as the unemployment line. Yeah, some companies are showing record profits and paying little to no taxes while they outsource jobs to other countries. It’s like these companies are being rewarded for eliminating American jobs! I’m not asking for new taxes on the rich… no, let’s just bring back some of the old ones! We need to rebuild this nation and it’s tough to do that when we are waging 2 wars, giving the rich the best tax rates they’ve had in decades and playing politics to the point nothing ever gets done in some attempt to sabotage someone’s presidency.

To me, governing is not imposing the will or beliefs of some people on all of them. It is doing what is right for the populous, not a small number of Americans but the nation at large. Nothing has trickled down to us on the bottom these last 3 decades and call me crazy but I’m beginning to think it never will. It’s time to get serious. It’s time for people to see reason. It’s time to buy a boatload of gold!

The Good, The Bad and the Poetry! (7-2-11)

The Good:

The weather! It’s been so nice of late and I constantly want to be outside. Whether it’s going for a bike ride, a long walk or sitting somewhere and absorbing life, I want to do it all! Being inside for too long is making me edgy these days… just ask my co-workers, ha! I love it so much I almost want to throw the tent out into the backyard and sleep outside! Perhaps a camping trip is coming soon.

It seems there are at least 2 cool outdoor concerts each week, plus there’s baseball games, an evolving waterfront (they just opened a food shack “Clinton’s Dish” down there!), outdoor festivals every weekend and so much more going on. If you have air conditioning I understand why you might want to stay inside for periods of time but I will say this to you, THIS is what we suffer all winter for. These few warm, active months are to be enjoyed!

If you are one of those people who want to get out more but don’t know where the party is, never fear! In the very near future I am going to be releasing Crazy Eddie’s Event Calendar spotlighting some of the best things to do around Buffalo. All I will be doing is just compiling a list of great events and things to do and sharing it with you. I do this for myself all the time anyway and lately I’ve started sharing that list with a few of my friends and it’s occurred to me, why not share it with everyone, you know since I’m putting in the time anyway. Hopefully I can help you and yours find some fun things to do this summer that you might not have known about otherwise. I’m not sure if I am just going to post it as a blog/note or if I will make a weekly video spotlighting some of the best things to do that week. Perhaps I will do both. Stay tuned to see the first installment this week!

For those of you who missed out on my Best of 2011, Volume One CD from last month, don’t fear! You are obviously not as cool as those who got a copy 4 weeks ago but I still have several left so that you can salvage your reputation before it’s too late! Obviously I’m kidding (am I?) but I do have a handful more to give away and since I carry my backpack with me almost everywhere I go and/or I wear lots of cargo shorts with CD sized pockets, if you see me out and about there’s a good chance I’ll have a few on me! I may make an additional run of 10-15 more to give out at my poetry show in a few weeks but I’ll have more on that later in this blog.

The Bad:

I used to think I did things because I had a hunger for life, experiences and adventures no matter how small or insignificant they seemed. It’s always taken very little to make me happy, to keep me entertained. While to an extent that is still very true nowadays I feel like my activities are distractions. I feel like I’m doing things so I’ll forget how lonely I am. It certainly works because this has been a great week right up until yesterday where not coincidently I spent the evening at home doing very little. When I am out doing things I’m not thinking about the things I wish I was doing, so to speak. I used to be against such thinking, when friends would tell me they keep busy so they don’t think about all the crap in their lives, I used to scoff at that and think to myself that if you have stuff bothering you why not figure it out. But sometimes there are no easy answers and I guess now I can relate, except there isn’t a lot of crap in my life. A lot of things are good but it seems I spend a lot of my idle time thinking about the few things that aren’t right. What’s up with that?!?

I feel so isolated when I’m alone and I keep wondering if I will always feel this way. I really wish I had someone that I could share a connection with. I wish I had a companion, a partner, a woman who would indulge me and my crazy ideas and whom I could indulge. The most recent female I had a thing for, it turns out she is involved with someone and has a young child… although I never saw her out with the child or the guy, always alone. Oh well, guess I’ll find a new crush. It can take me anywhere from a few minutes to a few years to find one. I genuinely like so few women that I can’t predict how long it will take to be smitten again. Smitten is pretty nice though. Still I hope one day to have what many of you have… closeness, intimacy, a connection and someone who really cares about what you need, what you want, how you feel or what you are thinking.

I’m starting a new exercise routine this weekend with an eye towards what I eat and it feels like it’s the 50th time I’ve done such a thing. It feels that way because it probably is! I’ll keep trying I guess until I get it right. I know what you are thinking; why is this under the “bad” category? I’ve included it here because I’ve done some bad things in recent months to get me to this place. The fact that I have to saddle up and give it another go with a new exercise and diet deal means I’ve made some bad choices. I’m usually a glass half full kind of guy but until I start doing good things and making good choices I’m a bad boy. For me the test is consistent moderation in servings and staying active. It’s really that simple on paper. In reality, and this is a line from one of my poems, I have to learn to separate the hunger from the cravings.

Besides that, there’s always a setback. Every time I begin a new journey towards better health and getting into better shape I run into bumps in the road. That could mean a minor injury that bumps me off track or a moment of weakness and a bad eating night that bumps me of course and snowballs into a full regression. It’s at these times where my loneliness really hurts. Moments where I lose my balance and need someone to lean on to help regain it is the absolute worst. When I fail myself and there’s no one to lean on I then fall down and find myself feeling pretty low, lying on the ground for a while. There’s a lot of metaphor in this but it’s true. Yes I know I have a lot of friends who are more than willing to help me out but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as having that one person to confide everything in and who’s always there. My friends have their own lives and I won’t trouble them with all my silly problems and struggles. I dunno, I guess I’m weird that way. I offer myself to any and all my friends in their times of need but feel strange asking the same of them. I’m trying to get to a point where I don’t need to lean on anyone but myself but who knows if I’ll ever get there. I do know I always have a hard time asking for help… too much pride and too much of my father in me (He was quite stubborn and prideful).

Hopefully I’ll turn these bad situations into good ones but until I do something about it, for now it’s only words. Speaking of words…

The Poetry:

Still no word yet on when and where I will perform at the 2011 Buffalo Infringement Festival. All I can say is me and my Spoken word/poetry show “Young Hearts and Old Minds” will be on sometime from July 28th to August 7th, somewhere in the city. I should find out any day now. Of course when I do there will be hoopla on my end… lots of hoopla. I am going to make the obligatory facebook event page for it, plus there will be flyers and then I’ll start talking to people as far as helping out in various ways, recording it on video, etc. So keep those 11 days FREE, hahahahaha!

In the meantime I’ve been writing more and more poetry. The 2 pieces I’ve finished this week (“Let Go” and “Hope, parts 1 & 2) are most likely going to be part of my show and I’m working on several more. I wouldn’t say I’ve been writing 1 a day but they are coming out fast and furious lately. Hopefully some of them are good! Between now and then I’m going to read at a few open mics. One I’m looking at is “Spit at Spot” at Spot Coffee downtown on Thursday evenings, plus maybe some others at the Screening Room, EM Tea Coffeecup Café and so on. I have been rehearsing nearly every day and that will intensify as we get closer. I really want to deliver these pieces to you flawlessly with the accents on the right words, at the right pace, with the clearest voice and with the raw emotion they were written with. Somehow I think I’ll be okay. I can’t wait!

I’ve said enough to know I’ve said too much.

:)

E