Birthday Celebrations

So for the next month and a half, Amy and I become the same age. (I know technically that is not true but it is the only time that she cannot say that she is younger than me.) Yesterday was Amy’s birthday and we celebrated by going down to Tulsa with her friends and a small cluster of mine.
A good time was had by all. There was an incident involving urination in a Sonic cup while on the turnpike but other than that, the night went off pretty much without a hitch. When you do things, hopefully, you learn from your past experiences. For instance, last time we learned that Brittany and Amy should not try to “race” Heath. Seriously, it was like sprinters versus a marathoner. And even if they won a small dash around a corner, Heath was better conditioned to win the entire race.
Do you understand what I’m talking about? The race is a drinking metaphor, people! Anyway, so I learned a few more lessons this time around that will continue to improve future outings. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, right?
Thankfully, we were able to leave our kids with a babysitter and were able to get out for an evening. I’ve talked about this in the past and you need time to relax every now and again. Plus, I paid for the entire trip with comic book money and that is always a big advantage.
Now, I have always said that I enjoy the simple things in life. I would much rather have a nice steak, a good pizza, or an ice cold Monster to a fancy meal and a $100 bottle of wine. I wear T-shirts and sneakers. I don’t even own a pair of dress shoes. I’ve said that if I won the lottery, I’d still shop at Wal-Mart.
Amy has a very similar attitude. With Amy it is Mickey Mouse and John Deere t-shirts, jeans, and hair in a ponytail. So on these rare occasions that we do get to go out to have fun, Amy puts it on. She wears it. Fancy make up. Her hair is immaculate. And in a style of dress that clearly more for me than her, she let’s the “girls” breathe out the top a bit… if you know what I’m saying.
And the first time we went out with her dolled up like this, she got extremely self-conscious because our waiter was checking her out. Even when her friends piled in the van this time and saw her, they were like “Oh wow, you have cleavage!”
Of course, I saw this as a good thing. I was proud to showcase my beautiful wife and let the world see her through the same eyes that I get to see her. Obviously getting gussied up for a trip to Wal-Mart doesn’t happen very often. But I love it when my wife really goes the extra mile and puts her beauty on display.
It’s just not part of a regular routine. Which is probably best because even after a decade of marriage, I find it difficult to carry a conversation with her with out my eyes dipping below the horizon… if you know what I’m saying.
So a good time was had by all. So now, I just have Jason’s to get through in early November and I am out of the birthday death zone where we have four birthdays in the space of a month. I can quit my overnight job at the Kwik-E-Mart to pay for all the gifts. But wait, how far away is Christmas? Dammit. I better get back to work. Might as well practice on my closer for the customers. “Thank you. Come again.”

Finding Beauty in the World

Set sail to sea, But pulled off course, By the light of golden treasure
How could he know, This new dawn's light, Would change his life forever?

How can I be lost, If I've got nowhere to go?
Search for seas of gold. How come it's got so cold?

How can I be lost? In remembrance I relive.
So how can I blame you, When it's me I can't forgive?

Now, look and study the verse above. Having not told you where this passage comes from, one might consider this to be the work of an award-winning poet or a talented, introspective artist. I think far too often we make snap judgments about people. What if I told you that this wonderful verse of poetry came from a tattooed, dark, heavy metal band?
The following passage is from Metallica’s The Unforgiven III from their new CD Death Magnetic. Having enjoyed the other two “Unforgiven” songs, I was quick to skip to this song in the track listings for a listen. I was blown away by the lyrics of the song because they are flat out beautiful. Obviously someone like my dad is not going to listen to Metallica. It is just not going to happen. And yet, if I just email him the lyrics without showcasing the music, chances are pretty good he would see the beauty in the song.
For all my blog readers, you can find the complete song lyrics in the link to the right.

Beauty is out there, boys and girls. Sometimes it is in places that you never expect or wouldn’t even think to look. Have a good day. I’m gonna go look for some more beauty. Go thou and do likewise…

The most important form of respect is self-respect.

**Warning: The following blog entry contains mature subject matter and may not be suitable for all readers.**
So on Tuesday, I made a trip to the Wal-Mart in Pryor to pick up a few items here and there and, as I always do, I made a trip down the toy aisle hoping to find some new Marvel Legends figures. To no avail. If you have seen the “Creation Station” – the desk that I work from, you can see that clearly I have an obsession. Still, so as I am looking at the Iron Man figures and checking out all the new Clone Wars figures, I hear a couple arguing.
But it is arguing where you don’t know if it is kids fooling around or something serious. Then I hear a female voice say, “Get your hands off of me!”
And then, I hear a distinct male voice say, “Give me my car keys!”
So at this point, I am coming around the corner when I hear the sound. We’ve all heard it, mostly in movies. There is that distinct sound like when Rocky is in the slaughterhouse punching the sides of beef. And I hear this girl cry out in pain.
Luckily, I am not the only one to hear this. Wal-Mart employees swarm the guy and I can hear a manager calling on her walkie-talkie.
For a moment, part of me froze. I wondered if I wanted to get involved. It is amazing what all blazes through your mind in a fraction of a second. Is he armed? Would I be called to testify? It is Pryor, Oklahoma but still you never know. At one point, they came past me and I should have said something to the guy. Part of me was afraid I would knee him in the groin for beating up on his girlfriend and then I would have been in trouble. And part of me would have really lost sleep over this thing. And then I heard it – the statement that absolved me of any guilt.
“He didn’t hit me.”
Yeah, she categorically denied it up and down. Man, I hope they had it on camera or something.
Okay, so, number one. You don’t hit a woman. Ever. It is just not done. Never, ever, ever in my relationship with Amy (or any woman!) have I ever considered hitting her. It is just not done. Maybe it was the way my mom raised me.
I joke with girls at work about how, “I’ll hit a woman. And you should thank me for treating you as an equal!” And then I usually follow it up with a jackhole statement like, “Everyone’s for the ERA until it is time to pick up a check.”
But I’m kidding. I have always done my best to treat women as equals but, still, you never EVER hit a woman…
And then here is this retard that takes a punch from her boyfriend and then says he didn’t hit her. This is just begging for it. She is enabling this violence to continue to rain down upon her.
If I ever hit Amy, I would fully expect her to cry, tell me she is sorry, probably make love to me, and then let me fall into a nice, deep restful sleep… Then I wake up sewn into the bed sheets and her standing over me rattling a can of gasoline. Or, my penis carefully placed between a pair of garden shears… And her spitting venom past her teeth saying, “If you ever hit me again…”
I know we shouldn’t perpetuate this whole violence begetting violence culture but, c’mon. If this woman will take a punch and then defend her boyfriend, isn’t that just inviting him to do it again and again and again?
I cannot understand it. And nor do I wish to. I guess if you are dumb enough to let them hit on you and take it, maybe you are getting what you deserve. If you are in a relationship like this and reading this, f**king leave. I’m not trying to be insensitive or cold but show some respect for yourself at least. Why is this so hard for so many people?

It just seems like common sense to me…

When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.

Still limping along with a dial-up connection, I can honestly say I don’t rot on the Internet as much as most. Plus my work on my current script keeps me pretty focused. Still I like to surf around. Ever Googled yourself? (I know that sounds dirtier than it really is). And while I have this blog, I don’t consider myself a blogger. Mainly because this is junk about my so-called life sprinkled with a modicum of humor and the occasional nugget of wisdom.
And while I have officially entered the creative arena as a comic book reader, it is still pretty weird to see my name on a person’s blog talking about my comic work. It is almost surreal. And then when those words are singing your praises, I have to giggle just a little bit. I know, 33-year-old guys shouldn’t giggle but I do.
I think that anytime you something creative, you are really putting your soul on display. Writing is probably the most of all these as I often infuse my stories with a small piece of my soul. Some stories get more of my soul than others. But you are putting something out there and you always wonder, “Will they like it?”
As I was scripting Tales of Penance: Trial of the Century, I felt like I was really working on something special. This was a unique and original concept for a genre that can often be mired in rehashed or outright hacked ideas. As this is a murder mystery at its core, you often wonder if you are delving out the clues too soon or not enough. But at the end of the day, I want my readers to feel like they are getting their money’s worth.
Because of my current financial situations, I have been scrimping here and there and cutting back on my pull list. So if I am going to plunk down money on the counter, I want to come away satisfied. Well a blog called Awesomed by Comics has given my most recently published book a pretty damn fine review.
You can check it out by clicking here.
After reading reviews like this, I often think, “Hmmm… Maybe I do know what I am doing. Maybe I can turn this into a career after all.” Doing that would certainly make me a happier person. And by pursuing my dream, that makes me a better father, better husband, and a better person. But to do something like this, you have to put your heart and soul out there and you never really know how the public will react. I anticipated. I expected. But I didn’t really know.
And when it does happen, well, it really is one of the best feelings on earth. It’s right up there with… boobs. ;-)

Like Sands Through The Hourglass...

Where does the time go? I often wonder that when I look back on a blog that hasn’t been updated in a month. Then I look back at 50+ hours a week because we lose 40% of our workforce on medical absences. Naturally, this does not make me a happy camper. In the Fall and Winter, business slacks of tremendously at the grocery store that I work at to support the family. But instead I am working lots of overtime. I guess I cannot complain about the money… but this detracts me from writing, which is what makes me really happy.
And the writing side of my career is really starting to pick up speed. If Amy was out of school and getting a steady paycheck, I would actually be willing to chuck it all and just start writing full time. Still, I am smack in the middle of writing a new script with a new contract so I am very excited. I try to ward off the brain slugs by whipping booty with my new Force powers in Star Wars: The Force Unleashed on the XBOX 360. It certainly helps me keep my sanity.
My little girl turned five a few days ago and my oldest son is turning 12 tomorrow, which puts him on the cusp of being a teenager.
Time flies. As Ferris Beuller once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around every once in a while, you might miss it.”

I’m gonna go look around. Go thou and do likewise…

Remembering a Tragedy

I would be remiss to let this day go by without posting a comment. September 11th. 9-11. The morning that rocked America. The day that changed the world.
It hardly seems like seven years has passed since that terrible day. I remember watching the second plane fly into Tower 2 on live TV. I remember parking myself in front of the television for two days. All those innocent souls that lost their lives… And I do mean innocent. They were just people at work. To this day, I cannot understand why the towers were the targets. And moreover, I cannot understand what this enemy wants.
I mean, if we were to go to the head of this organization and say, “You win. We give up,” what do they want? I mean they hate America but I bet they love our cars, our fashion, our movies, our computers, our technology, and our money. Or is that it? Is it the fact that they hate our success? I just don’t understand it. And I have never had anyone able to successfully explain it to me.
It is one thing to go to war with a country. It is another thing to target civilians. I just don’t see the honor in it and I certainly don’t see the strategy behind it.
I remember the fear and the helplessness in the days that followed. I wondered what would happen next. But then suddenly, as I drove down the highways, I noticed flags on cars. “God Bless America” on the portable marquee signs outside businesses. And all the anger and hatred that seemed to be consuming our nation was put on the back burner. It’s like in football. Everyone in that huddle all has the same goal: The End Zone. That is all that matters. It doesn’t matter how we get there, just that we get there. It is a unity that you cannot understand unless you have been in that huddle.
Suddenly, all of America was in our own huddle. Everyone was looking in the same direction. And the end goal, that end zone, was the same: Secure our nation, protect our people, and obliterate those responsible for the attacks. Apparently these guys never studied Pearl Harbor. A sleeping giant was awoken.
Today, now seven years removed from that terrible tragedy, it just doesn’t seem like we have come as far as I would have hoped.
I have often said that we did not defeat the Soviet Union through strength of arms. We beat them because their economy collapsed. Have you seen the Middle East? It is nothing but oil and sand. If we no longer needed foreign oil, their economy would collapse. How much do you think they would hate us then?
[Insert bad stereotypical accent here.] “Death to America!”
“Okay, Ahmed. We don’t really need your oil anymore. We’re gonna take all our money and go home.”
[Again, stereotypical accent] “Wait, wait, my friend!”
Yeah, watch those tides suddenly change. Hydrogen cars. Electric fuel cells. Wind power. Solar power. The time has frickin’ come already. Big Oil is a lumbering dinosaur that needs to go extinct. The internal combustion engine needs to do the way of the T. Rex. If we could do that, we could end the war.
Note: I said “end” the war. I did not say “win.” Because when it comes to war, there are no winners. We need to show our enemies that it was wrong to attack us. We need to show them that we are not “the Great Satan.” And everyone’s priorities change when you can’t feed your children. If you want to cripple an enemy, you cripple their finances.
Global warming is real. We are killing the planet. Maybe this is the catalyst we need to take that giant leap forward that will heal the planet and help unite us as a people. Here is hoping for a better life, a better society, and a better planet. My kids deserve it. Today, of all days, I remember. And on today of all days, I hope… I hope…

My Comic Blog Interview

I know this posting is a month late but I forgot to include it earlier. Back in August, I did a blog interview for Tales of Penance: Trial of the Century. Clicking on the hyperlink will take you to the interview! Enjoy!

Surviving the Holiday

The grocery store where I work is definitely a seasonal location. Grand Lake has become the destination spot for the majority of the rich “south side” of Tulsa. It is a bit of a status symbol to say, “We have a house on Grand Lake.” So there are three major dates for the calendar. Fourth of July is the biggest, followed by Memorial Day and the closer is Labor Day. Thank goodness, Labor Day is now past us.
With Tulsa schools back in session, I am hoping that things will get back to a normal and more reasonable level. This means that I can spend less time exhausted after an eight hour shift and focus more of my energies towards my comic book career. I have discovered that I am truly happy when I am writing. That is the profession that I was created for and while it is a sometimes daunting and difficult task, I truly enjoy it. I really do.
After writing fight choreography for Greek warriors or plotting the monstrous abilities of the next undead horror for my next assignment, shucking onions and stocking potatoes just don’t seem to have the same effect on me.
Still, I love a lot of the people that I work with. There are all kinds of jokes and laughter and camaraderie. I’ve discovered that I am not there for the work. I’m there for the paycheck and the friendships. And after weekends like this one, I swear I see some of these people more than I see my own family.
But now, with the hustle and bustle of the summer season slowly winding down, good things are on the horizon. The weather is cooling off. (I don’t have to run the AC all day!) Television shows are getting ready to start airing new shows (PRISON BREAK STARTS TONIGHT!!!). Football season is right around the corner. (The Giants are defending their world championship title!) The kids are back in school. (My food bill should drop dramatically!) And I can turn my attention back to writing more, which helps my income level and makes me substantially happier. This in turn makes me a better husband, a better father, and a better friend. Thank goodness things are getting back to normal!

Always a Bride’s Maid, Never A Bride…

Some of you may have already heard. Some of you may have been waiting to hear it here first. Unfortunately, all I can say is that it is true. I was not chosen to be Barack Obama’s running mate. I know. I’m disappointed too.
It’s shaping up to be a pretty rough year. First, I go undrafted by the New York Giants… again. Apparently a six-minute forty-yard dash is not considered an NFL level of skill. It’s all political anyway… And now, Obama is not picking me to be the vice president. Maybe my plan to put the unemployed to work building houses for the homeless was too radical. Maybe it is the fact that I have a face for radio. Maybe it is the fact that I scream obscenities at anyone who disagrees with me. I suppose there is still a chance that the McCain camp might call but I’m not going to hold my breath.
No chance at a vice presidential bid. No chance of playing for the Giants this year. I guess I’ll resort to not voting and playing fantasy football with my guys from work. Hey, I got LaDanian Tomlinson in the draft. He’s a point machine. Maybe the Southside Shockers can go deep into the playoffs this year. Yeah, that’s the logo for my helmet. And I’m in pretty good company because other team names include The Rusty Trombones, The Ball Bags, and the Pink Pounders just to name a few.
Hey, in all my ramblings on this blog, I never claimed to be mature…

Genetic Dispositions, Parents, & The Choices We Make…

So, as many Americans, I have been pretty hooked into the Olympics. This is our first time to watch the competitions with our DVR and it tremendously improves the experience. And in the Beijing Olympics, there is no bigger name right now than Michael Phelps. Eight gold medals? That guy is an animal – and probably part dolphin if I had to choose a specific animal.
I was watching an interview with Phelps, his mother, and Bob Costas this morning. He spoke about his mother’s dedication to hard work and their family. He spoke openly about how he followed in the footsteps of his mother and followed her example.
I have always been interested in motivations of people. As a writer, you have to be. I am always curious as to why people do what they do. If you can understand the motivations of people, you can understand why they do what they do. You can understand them. You can relate to them and if you want to make a believable character, you have to make your characters relatable.
Obviously, the deviant problems seem to surface because they seem to be the most interesting. Why are some people alcoholics, sexaholics, chocoholics, or physical abusers, mental abusers, drug abusers, or – worst of all – serial killers? And why do some people follow the path of their parents and others break the cycle?
For instance, my mother was a lifelong smoker. And to this day, I cannot stand cigarettes. I have never smoked anything and I have zero desire to. In one of my comic book assignment, I fought to make the main character a non-smoker because I hate cigarettes so much. (My idea was rejected but I fought a good fight.) Given that my mom was a smoker, wouldn’t I be more inclined to be a smoker? Yet, I broke the cycle. My mom and dad were/are big drinkers. But I don’t drink. I’m not morally opposed to it or anything but my body just can’t take it anymore. But with parents as drinkers, shouldn’t I be more inclined to drink?
My mom and dad built two different homes together. You want to break a family apart and turn everyone against each other? Build a house together. I have told Amy that if we ever build a home, it will be a turnkey home. I won’t so much as pick up a hammer. Again, I broke the cycle. Maybe it is because all of these things are negative. Hmmm.
And yet, when I made the decision to change my career back in 2001 to become a full time father, I thought about having my mom at home when I would come home from school. There was something very comforting about having my mom waiting for me when I got off the bus. And while it was a hit for us financially for me to do so, I wanted one of us (Amy or I) home when the kids got there.
My dad was incredibly dedicated and a hard worker when it came to his job. And clearly, judging my work ethic during high school versus most high school kids these days, Dad’s dedication clearly rubbed off on me.
When you first become a parent, it is the scariest thing in the world. There is no training manual. No guidebook. You never know how what you are doing as a parent will affect your children down the road. All you can do is hope for the best.
But when I look around at my life, I see myself pursuing a dream with my writing and sacrificing to work at a job to pay the bills that is just not what I am supposed to be doing. Will my kids look back as see my example and chase their own dreams? Will it make them better people down the road? One can only hope…