If only you had it as good as me…….

Often times I wonder how it is I stay sane in this crazy circus called life.  When I as myself this I have a mantra I like to repeat (although I don’t remember to do it as often as I should!).  Thank your wife, Thank Your Wife, THANK YOUR WIFE! Before you think I’m going all self-help guru on you; this isn’t something I’m necessarily encouraging you to do.  This is something I do because I can’t let myself forget that all of the wonderful things in my life now wouldn’t be possible without her.  She’s my biggest fan and my entire support system, and for this I am truly grateful.  The reason I tell you this is not to seem sappy or overly romantic, but to inform you that I am, deep down, extremely happy even though I am not a “happy person.”  And my Kittie is largely the reason why.

I am, as you will find out, somewhat of a poet.  Not that I would ever consider attempting to publish anything I’ve written.  I write for therapeutic purposes.  Because of this, my poor reader, you will occasionally be subjected to my lame attempts at metrical composition.  If you would rather not, feel free to point your mouse elsewhere for now and be assured that I’ll be back soon with the wit and acrimony!

For those of you still here, this is a small ode to the Lovely Kittie……………

The world is her oyster, but she allergic to seafood.

She doesn’t need everything- just the things that we do.

She’s made my life much better than before.

The only for me. The one I adore.

She gave me the family I didn’t deserve.

For this I’ll always be grateful to her.

I’ll spend my life trying to pay her back

For being there always; For being what I lack…..

 

******************Thanks for listening y’all!  More to come!******************

Thank a Veteran today!

It all started many years ago with a slightly inebriated phone call to the local recruiting station and after taking the ASVAB and a jumping through a few more hoops it was time.  I stood with about twenty others in a small room in my civilian clothes, doing my best to stand at attention. glancing around I could see nervous kids, beads of sweat running down temples and people trying to act nonchalant.  It wasn’t too long before a slight Marine came in and started explaining to us what it meant to say the words we were about to say.  After a few moments of this I heard an order barked for the first of about a million times in my military career, “ATTENTION ON DECK!!!”  I snapped to.  A tall man in a khaki uniform with silver oak leaves on his shoulders walked in.  I would learn in boot camp that, based on his insignia, this man was a commander in the NAVY.  That’s an O-5 fore those of you who care.  He made a brief speech and then led us in the oath that would change our lives forever.

“I do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”

Those few lines may not look like much on paper, but the effect they can have on the person saying them is profound.  From then on I was a different person.  I was on my way to becoming a sailor. All that stood between me and “The Fleet” was 9.2 weeks of basic training and an “A” school in Florida.  That and another, more awesome oath……

I am a United States Sailor.

I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States of America and I will obey the orders of those appointed over me.

I represent the fighting spirit of the NAVY and all those who have gone before me to defend freedom and democracy around the world.

I proudly serve my country’s NAVY combat team with HONOR, COURAGE and COMMITMENT.

I am committed to excellence and the fair treatment of all.

 

The military gave me the structure and discipline I so badly craved, but it also gave me something else: national pride.  My time in the service was some of the best I’d ever have.  It made me feel good knowing I was doing my part to keep America as free and as wonderful as the founding fathers had hoped.

So today, instead of bitching about the war, or the economy, or the housing market, or the election results, how’s about you thank a veteran for your right to do so.  Because if it wasn’t for that room full of scared, sweaty kids, we wouldn’t be the nation we are today.  HOOYAH!

**************GO NAVY, BEAT ARMY!**************

 

“I’m only in to bands that haven’t been signed….”

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!  I’m sick of hipsters!  I’m not the only one, right? You can take your tight pants, lenseless glasses, “fixie“, “rollies” and scarf and shove them squarely up you narrow ass!

On a side note, I understand that I have used a meme in this post.  You don’t need to call me on my hypocrisy.  Much like a hipster, I’m doing it ironically.  That, and all the pictures of actual hipsters I could find made me physically ill.

Now, back to the rant!

I, as you may know, live in Boston.  The Bean is a great city that has unfortunately been over-run with this plague of douchebags.  I was going to post the definition of a hipster here for reference, but alas, every one I could find online was so damn long, convoluted and complimentary of the bastards that I had to refrain.  It seems as though they’ve infiltrated almost everything these days.  I mean, what kind of world do we live in where one can’t find a disparaging online definition of a group of people?  Is this not America?

Since I couldn’t find an explanation that pleased me, I decided to compile a little list of hipster warning signs to be on the lookout for in either your friends or, dare I say, yourself. *gasp*  Now I must warn you that just because you may exhibit some of these traits, does not necessarily mean you are one of them.  But if you catch yourself beginning to be offended by this list you should turn off your computer immediately and run, don’t walk, to the nearest MAINSTREAM CORPORATE record store and buy a Godsmack/Disturbed/Metallica album.  Not that I want to proliferate those band’s music, but I feel it would be a fitting antidote. So without further ado:

You Might Be a Hipster if……..

*You own a Radiohead album that wasn’t downloaded for free and doesn’t contain the song Creep.

*The only “non-thrift” store you buy clothes from is Urban Outfitters.

*You wear horn-rimmed glasses with either no prescription or possibly no lenses.

*You use the word “conformist.”

*You became vegan/vegetarian and now look down on those who aren’t.

*You face Brooklyn when you pray to the flannel-god.

*Your favorite band will never make it past college radio (or a lame house-party for that matter).

*No one has ever heard of any of your top 5 bands.

*You say you like old country but don’t know David Allen Coe.

*You’ve ever uttered the phrase, “I liked them before everyone else did, but now they’re mainstream.”

*The term mainstream is an insult or affront to you and your friends.

*You refer to a beer as a Bronson.

*You ride a fixed gear without having a real reason.

*When you take off your jeans you can still see the seam running down your leg.

*You have a liberal arts degree from a prestigious university and work at the local organic food coop.

*You smoke “rollies” and drink Pabst even though you can afford the good stuff.

*You bathe on an infrequent basis.

*Your hair looks like it was inspired by a greasy, cubist painting.

*You think 80′s fashion is anything but ridiculous.

So there are a lot more hipster red-flags than that, but this should be enough to get you started.  If you or someone you love is confirmed as a hipster, don’t worry.  Help is available.  Go to a punk show. Eat a cheeseburger from a fast-food joint.  Drink a Corona or some other expensive(ish), non-craft beer.

Now I realize that a few of my friends could technically be considered one of these dingy denizens but, if they are a friend of mine, I’m pretty sure they aren’t.  An interesting couple come to mind.  She is in sales, and he is a scientist.  A real scientist complete with pi tattoo wrapping around his arm.  And she, my first roommate when I moved to MA.  They wear corduroy jackets and ironic t-shirts; faded jeans and worn-out sneakers.  She worked many years in a small record store in NY, and he makes his own beer.  They listen to music I’ve never heard of and she likes bands that I think of as punch lines.  Even with all this taken into account, I do not consider them hipsters. I feel this way because there isn’t a hint of pretentiousness about them at all.  Everything they are, do and say is earnest and humble.  I sometimes wonder if they are the exception that proves the rule. I have traveled the world over and have yet to encounter anyone like them.  Oh, and she’s a vegetarian to boot!

Now that you have this information, it’s up to you and me to stop this movement!  Hit the streets armed with the knowledge that our society is in peril and we are the last line of defense.  Let’s stop them before they start breeding even more and making more kids like that mini-douche in the Toyota commercial……

 

I’m in Your {place}, {verb}ing Your {noun}!

Waffles? Did you you mean carrots?  No, as a matter of fact, I meant WAFFLES DAMMIT!!!!  If that first statement made no sense to you, congratulations!  You do NOT spend way too much time on your computer!  For those of you “in the know,” you understand what one is, and have probably helped create (or at least propagate) one.  I am referring, of course, to the Internet Meme.  The term “meme” was coined by British author and scientist Richard Dawkins in 1976′s The Selfish Gene. This term was given to ideas or cultural phenomena that are passed from one person to another.

For those of you not cool enough to understand 4chan, or too cool to give a damn about the Cheezeburger network, an internet meme is a short phrase, picture, or combination of the two that gets repeated on message boards…. for far, far longer than anything ever ought to be (according to Urban Dictionary).

I know I won’t be making any fans with this statement, but here it goes: ENOUGH ALREADY WITH THIS BULLSHIT!!!!!!  I’m tired of seeing insightful dinosaurs, hipster cats, judgmental  water-buffaloes, et. al.  I don’t need to see pictures of people making odd faces with an attached catchphrase from a failed Southpark character.  Seriously, who thought the whole derp thing was a good idea?!?

I blame teh kittehs!  It started off with them in my garage, stealing my rims.  Then they were in my computer, stealing my megabytes. Sure, they would occasionally upgrade my ram or escort me on a dangerous journey, but they need to be stopped!  If not for being sick of the pictures (because some of them are honestly clever/funny), at least for their continual rape and torture of the English language.  This, as far as I’m concerned, is a capitol offense.  That is, however, another blog for another time……

I know this is a short one, and for that I apologize.  I just needed to kick and scream for a bit!

*****************More to Come!*******************

Driving in The Bean….

Pardon me whilst I crawl up on the soapbox…….

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU DAMN PEOPLE?!?!?!?!?!?!  I realize that my modest, low-end hatchback would be considered by the great People’s Republic of Devalachusetts to be an extreme luxury that should be charged and taxed accordingly, but come on!  This ridiculous state prides itself on having one of “the lowest fees for car inspection,” but that’s because there are a menagerie  of other charges associated with owning and operating a motor vehicle in this state (let alone the city of Boston).  Between state income taxes, double-dipping on alcohol taxes, yearly excise taxes on vehicles and arguably the most jacked-up, expensive auto insurance requirements in the country you figure they’d have enough money.  This, however, is not the case.

You got a dollar? Deval wants fifty cents.  You got nothing?  No problem!  Stoney gave us plenty of money!  We’ll support you!  But I digress.  That’s another topic for another day.  Back to driving!

After the thousands of dollars I spend for the privilege of driving, I get to pay a yearly fee to be able to park on the street in front of my house.  Let me repeat….. TO PARK IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE…… ON THE STREET!!!!!!  Seriously, wtf?   I am assured by commercials, billboards and pamphlets that my tax dollars are hard at work improving roads, fixing street signs, adding traffic enforcement, etc.  Yet, when I embark on the 45(!) minute drive to take my wife, Kittie, the 12 mile trip to work my lowly hatchback’s suspension is subjected to a Mike Tyson-style beating.  The only difference is that instead of losing chunks of ear, it’s giant chunks of my poor Goodyears.

Non-synchronized traffic signals, “No Right on Red,” Crosswalks every damn 10 feet, Traffic circles (or roundabouts, or rotaries, whatever!)!  Things just keep getting better!

The only thing worse than the condition of the roads in this city are all of the targets and obstacles.  By which I mean pedestrians and cyclists.  Don’t get me wrong, I bomb around Boston after dark on a custom mountain bike with no reflectors or lights, but I will not cut off a vehicle and I stay(for the most part) in the bike lane.  I’m calling you out, hipster douchebag on the fixie!  You too, random college kid who moseys out in to traffic thinking you can cross anywhere you want! And I haven’t forgotten about you, 25-40 year-old power business person with your bluetooth/smartphone/iPad.  If you’re not aware enough to look up from your $500 toy while walking out into the the street, than I may have to be aware enough to scrub the eyes and teeth off my bumper before the cops come looking for me.  I realize that pedestrians and bikes are given carte blanche to run amok in this city due to legislation that places blame on motorists for striking the aforementioned parties regardless of actual fault, but I don’t give a damn!  Just because I traded in my Texas license and plates for their Mass counterparts doesn’t meant there isn’t a crazy-ass Texan behind the wheel.  I do kinda miss having the old plates.  People got out of my way when they saw where I was from.  I’m not sure if it was because they knew about people like me, or they looked at me as a tourist who didn’t know where he was going.  Either way I was fine with it.

I’ll leave you with one solid piece of advice:  If you visit this place, fly in and use public transportation or a cab.  While those two options aren’t much fun (and will probably be discussed here eventually!), it’s better than the alternative!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m double parked, it’s street cleaning day and I’ve got a bumper to scrub! 

And by the way……

GO RANGERS!!!!!!!!

Greetings all! My name is Stoney!

This blog will be a social experiment of sorts.  The subject of this experiment is me and my crazy psyche.  I was born in the Carter administration, and grew up in the Reagan and Clinton years.  I’ve been a jock, a thespian, an introvert, an extrovert, a sailor and now a husband and father.  My political leanings vary wildly on certain subjects, however I am a registered republican.  This blog won’t always be a political one, but I give these statements as a sort of disclaimer.  I am by no means a radical, but if you are offended by hard-line views on things like guns, freedom of speech, size of government, taxes and public assistance then you may want to go ahead and mosey on over to another page.  I’m an interesting dichotomy of beliefs.

I was born and raised in Texas and currently live in Boston (SOUTHIE IN THE HOUSE!).  I am pro-gun, pro-choice, pro-free market, anti-big government and pro-LGBT rights. I love everyone and hate everyone else!

To know me is to love me, unless you hate me!

You may not agree with me, but I promise I will entertain and give you something to think about!  Welcome to my world!

********More to follow!********