Friday, December 22, 2017

Happy Xmas (War Is Over...Mom Edition)

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun
And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Christmas is in what, three days?

I haven't bought any gifts. Not one. Haven't even thought about it actually. I just don't care all that much about gift giving at the moment. It doesn't concern me and I'm sorry if some kiddos will be disappointed to just receive a card and some cash, but that's just the way it's going to be this year.

I wish I could just chalk it up to being a scrooge, but that wouldn't be quite accurate. That's not to say there weren't years in the past where it would have been quite accurate, but that's neither here nor there. Okay, maybe it's slightly accurate, perhaps 10%, but not enough for me to count that as being truly accurate.

And don't get me wrong, I'm actually looking forward to Christmas this year, as it's a bit of a change of pace with family members from both sides of the family joining in the festivities. That doesn't happen often. Actually, I'm not sure I can recall it ever happening. My Dad's brother Lou and his wife  Judy are hosting out there in Elmhurst. Unfortunately, my Dad won't be able to make it this year, but that's okay. I've sort of come to expect that that's just how it's going to be most years and I can't really blame him for making that decision. Sometimes those family gatherings can be a bit stressful, ya know? Fortunately, Mom and all the kids and plenty of aunts and uncles and cousins will be there, so good times will surely be had by all.

A very Merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one
without any fear

I really do hope it's a good one for all of us. Pretty sure most of us deserve that at the minimum.

Personally, 2017 isn't going to go down in my history book as one of my favorite years, and to be honest, I'm quite a bit fearful of what 2018 will bring.

My Dad has been skipping these Christmas get togethers for almost 30 years now, so I'm kind of used to it, but I'm not ready for my Mom to start doing the same. I've had plenty of time to prepare for it, but there's just no amount of time sufficient to prepare for such a thing. I've spent the past 42 Christmases with my Mom and in a few days I'll spend my 43rd with her, but I'm scared that there won't be a 44th. Mom was diagnosed with stage IV stupid cancer last October and she did all she could to defeat it...was even declared cancer free at one point, but as we all know, that sort of thing doesn't always last too long and, unfortunately, that's the case this time.

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong
And so happy Christmas
For black and for White
For yellow and red one
Let's stop all the fight

My Mom is very pragmatic. She looks at the facts and makes a decision. Of course that's not to say she doesn't sometimes take forever to make a decision, but she's not one to let emotions get in the way of that final decision. She deals in logic. I appreciate that. Much better than having to deal with some nut job who either can't understand the facts or who let their emotions control all of their decision making. Not to mention the poor souls who do both of these things. Buban's don't have time for that kind of bullshit. Mom has taken in all the information, weighed it all, and decided, that for her, it's time to skip out on future cancer treatments. She's had enough.

And if you're wondering, no, she did not consult with me on this decision. I'm not sure why, but if I had to guess, it's because it's not really any of my damn business. It's not my fight. I have no say in when it gets to be over. I don't really want a say. I just want my Mom to hopefully have some more days where she might feel decent. Might be able to eat some breakfast and enjoy it. Might be able to step outside and go for a walk just for the fun of it. Might decide to read a bit of some book she's been putting off. Might have some more energy to yell at Michael about something. Might have some time to send me that $41,817 she owes me for all the chores I did back in the day that she promised to reimburse me for, but never did (FYI, I've included interest payments in that calculation). Might have some time to sit back and just look out the window and watch a few birds fly by while thinking about how nice the day is. Might just do whatever the heck she feels like doing without feeling sick.

I wish I could give her that.

I wish I could give her that.

I wish I could give her that.

Perhaps I can to some small degree.

I can try, right?

Apparently, I was mistaken.

I do have a gift to give, I just didn't realize it.

And no one I've ever known deserves it more than my beautiful Mom.

She's the best!

A very Merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

And so this is Christmas
And what have we done
Another year over
A new one just begun
And so happy Christmas
We hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

A very Merry Christmas
And a happy new year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear
War is over, if you want it
War is over now

I love you Mom!











Friday, August 25, 2017

Extraordinary Things of the Ordinary.

Brain Cramp.

I never knew Cubs catcher Alex Avila's last name was pronounced Ahhveelahh. All those years of fantasy baseball didn't do shit for me as far as correct pronunciation of names go. It's not Ahveela. Lesson learned.

At some point I'm going to write a post about my cat, but now is not that time. Regardless, she's the most lovable cat I've ever come across, and that includes the kitty red light districts that I've visited over in Iowa.

We're taking it slow though.

How about that Blue Cross commercial featuring just one of many amazingly great songs by 10, 000 Maniacs?

It's Friday night. I'm watching the Cubs/Phillies game and not really liking the results at this point. Cubs will come back though...as soon as this Philly nicknamed Eick leaves the mound. Completely odd and unexpected season for the Cubs following that World Championship 2016 season. That's baseball for ya.

Looks like there isn't going to be a 2017 Buban Bash in case you were wondering. Mark doesn't care. Dan doesn't care. Jennifer is noncommittal. I'm also sort of in that camp. We've got more important things to do with our time I guess. A year off will just make the next one that much better, right?

Maybe.

Work is lined up to kick my ass next week, but it won't. I'll make sure everything gets finished and shipped out on time. I've got seven different projects which all have to ship on Friday. The largest one is about 530 packages, each of which contain some combination of 125 different graphics. I'm still trying to figure out how to organize this one, but I will figure it out. That's what they pay me for.

Ahhh....work....thinking about you on the weekends...

Lame.

Let's go Happ. Bases loaded and you swung through the curve.

Oh and by the way, yes, my cat is lying next to me on the couch.

Happ strikes out. Inning over.

Cubs still down to these stupid Phillies.

Cat is still here. Cat brush is in my sight. Cat needs a good brushing. Okay...three minutes of cat brushing. Hold on.

I gave her an extra minute of brushing and then an extra minute of petting. Such a happy kitty.

Texted a friend about that lying kitty of mine to find out if it's laying or lying. She went with lying so that's what you readers got. I did google it first, but it's still confusing to me and she's pretty damn smart as far as writing and grammar is concerned. Also talked it over with my roommate and we delved into a slightly different conversation about grammar. Two grammar conversations in one night is probably two too many, but that's what my Friday nights consist of these days.

Well at least this one.

Hope you kids aren't talking grammar tonight.

Looks like the Cubs are just going to be dominated by the Phillies tonight.

That's baseball.

My roommate said the message was more important than the grammar. I agree with him to a certain extent, but I do find it difficult to receive a message when it's presented within writing which resembles something a lab chimpanzee might hope to come up with after a few months of practice.

Anyway...






Sunday, June 18, 2017

Father's Day

I'm having the kind of night that used to be so commonplace, but now rarely happens. Just hanging out at home alone and listening to some music at a pretty decent volume. I'm spending some time with a few albums that have been on the back burner for far too long. I like to be immersed in my music and the only way to do that is to play it as loud as possible given the circumstances and time. Saturday night is usually a good time. Oh sure I could put headphones on and listen as loudly as I want for as long as I want, but it's not the same. Nowhere near the same, mostly because it doesn't sound as good and, more importantly, I can't belt out the lyrics while pretending to be able to sing well.

I started out with half a Frank Black album, followed it with the entirety of Living Colour's Times Up album, one Megadeth tune, a few Melvins songs and for the past hour and a half Natalie Merchant solo stuff. Her music, lyrics and voice are incomparable in my humble estimation. Bigly under appreciated.

Anyway, that's not the point of this blog. It's Father's Day!

Oddly enough, I had an actual conversation around the water cooler at work on Friday with my friends Andy and Marianne. Father's Day came up and I told both of them that my Dad and I were going to go fishing on the river to celebrate, which seemed pretty plausible as far as I was concerned, but my story fell apart when I was asked which river we would be fishing on. Having no decent response, I finally blurted out that it was all a lie and that my Dad has been dead for like 30 years. Andy laughed and said his Dad had been dead for just as long and walked away. Marianne just looked at me and shook her head in some odd state of disbelief.

It's only been 28 years if my math is correct.

So I won't be fishing with him, but I'll give you a small story that has been seared into my brain for too many years. My parents separated in 1980, so we all moved out to Batavia, sans father. At some point, I was able to go spend every other weekend with him in Chicago. I can't recall if this particular weekend was around my birthday or Christmas or perhaps neither, but my Dad drove my brother Dan, and I think our neighbor Andy and myself to Toys 'R Us where my Dad was going to buy me a present. After much careful deliberation, I finally decided on a Lego set that was some sort of rocket launch pad. This wasn't the crazy intricate Lego sets that they have nowadays, but as a kid way back then, it seemed like it was.

Once we got home, I got right to work putting that Lego set together, with a bit of help from Andy and Dan. I do not remember how long it took to complete but at some point it was finished and that rocket was ready for launch.  I vaguely recall what the final project looked like...the flat base was about ten inches square and just filled with that Lego circle pattern, the rocket was probably about seven inches tall and made up of circular Lego pieces. Don't remember what else was on there, but I assume some building as well as a launch station. That would be kind of lame if it was just a square flat board with one rocket sticking out of it, but whatever...that's neither here nor there.

This weekend must have been pretty early on in my visits to Chicago as my Father was still living on the first floor and not in the basement. Almost all of my weekend visits that I can remember were in the basement, as the top two floors of the building were rented out to tenants. Anyway, back to the story.

Day turns to night and my bed for the weekend was the couch in the living room. This may seem odd to you that I only had a couch to sleep on, but I was used to it, as that's the exact same sleeping option I had out in Batavia. The couch faced all the windows in the living room and the street light poured in  illuminating the room and the Lego set I was so happy to have and so proud to have completed.

That night my bedtime did not coincide with my Father's bedtime. Much like my night tonight, he decided to play some albums at a pretty loud volume for a quite some time. I don't recall exactly what he was listening to, but odds are pretty good that it was Elvis Presley. Needless to say, that night he wasn't exactly in the best of moods, which isn't really all that surprising since it probably hadn't been too long since his wife had left him and taken all six of their children with her. I can see that being difficult to endure for just about everyone, but perhaps even a bit more difficult for someone who had been dealt with the fun curse of being manic depressive. My father was not a happy man and it wasn't difficult for me to realize it that night while he was pacing back and forth throughout the apartment listening to music which should have been providing him pleasure, but clearly wasn't. Knowing what I know now about relationships, I would imagine the music was just sparking memories which were best forgotten, but clearly not enough time had passed for that to happen.

At a few different points while I was trying to fall asleep my Dad's pacing brought him into the living room and during those times I just closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Guess I knew that in whatever state he was in it wasn't a good one and it was probably best if he just assumed I was fast asleep. Of course I was just a kid so I'd quickly sneak a peak every now and again and if he had his back turned I'd just silently watch his actions. Though I couldn't understand the pain he was feeling at that age, it was all too easy to recognize the sadness and anger consuming him that night.

I don't know how long it was that this pacing was going on, but at some point I watched as he walked into the living room, passed by the couch and continued towards the far end of the room. With the street light streaming in on my Dad, I watched  as he quickly raised his right arm and then violently brought it down in a sweeping motion which completely destroyed that Lego set I had built a few hours earlier.  I can't recall exactly what went through my head at that time, but I know it was some feeling of devastation. It was one thing for him to be upset and angry at life that night, but it was a completely different feeling having him destroy the present he had bought me earlier that day. I'm not sure how to describe what I felt, as it was a new emotion I don't think I had ever known before.

I just continued pretending to be asleep and when he finally left the room I buried my head in the couch and started to cry.

So there's my Father's Day story.

I guess we didn't exactly have what many might recognize as the typical kind of Dad portrayed on all those boob tube sitcoms, but I'm not sure anyone really has that kind of Father. What we had for way too short of a time was a very troubled person who had an extremely difficult time finding some semblance of happiness in life. I don't know what he thought of Fatherhood when it first happened and I'm not sure he was ready for that sort of responsibility, but I do believe he did the very best he could and I know that he loved all of us kids regardless of his ability to show it.

My father was honest, he was kind, he was quirky, and he made all of us laugh quite a bit.

You can all keep your own Fathers and whatever it is they brought to the table. I wouldn't trade mine for all the Lego sets in the world.

So here's the requisite Father's Day picture of me and my Dad. This is from 1980 and taken at my Grandma Buban's house on Christmas. The awesome REO Speedwagon album is a present for my sister Jennifer. My lips are stained red from drinking Hi-C and yes, those are sweet Dubble Bubble gum patches on my knees.

Happy Father's Day!







Friday, June 9, 2017

Starting Over

"It's been too long since we took the time...".

A bit of John Lennon for you. Great song, maybe I'll listen to it, but actually I won't. Not at this time. Was just looking over my blog and reminiscing about the times way back when...when I actually used to write blogs. Those days seem to have passed, but they haven't, I've just retreated from writing for many reasons, none of which are actually decent. If there's one constant in my life, it's my ability to be inconsistent. I'm great at it. I suppose there are better things to be great at, but we all get what we sow and apparently, this is what I've sowed. It doesn't seem like much of a good thing, but who knows? It may very well turn out to be the best thing. The answer will reveal itself at some point or I'll just have to force the issue and unmask it myself.

It's 1:09 am on a Thursday night and normally I would have been in bed about 3.5 hours ago, but I took a few vacation days just to get away from work for a while. I didn't know it at the time when I requested these days off that it would come at a time when I was really, really, really happy to not be at work. You see, I've worked at this company for just about two and a half years and I've really actually enjoyed being there all this time, which isn't necessarily all that normal, especially in the printing industry. That's not to say I haven't been pissed off or annoyed from time to time...that sort of thing always happens, but this time I was actually pissed off for several days and didn't actually know what I was going to do about it. My responsibilities were changed and I wasn't happy about it. Actually, my responsibilities were shifted, not necessarily changed. I'm not going to go into specifics, as that's not really blog appropriate. It was just sort of shocking to finally not be happy about my situation at this company, that's all. I guess the good times just never last, eh?

I'll see what happens. In reality, this is actually the owners placing their trust in me that they know what they want me to do I will be able to do and I will be able to do it well. That's a good thing, but the specifics of that good thing kind of suck for me as far as work goes and as far as commutes go and as far as just enjoying the camaraderie at work goes. Oh well. I'll just have to suck it up and hope that it helps out the company and helps me out in the long run. Two and a half years ago I was hired to run a digital press they purchased. There was only so much work to do on that press so I started to learn how to run another printing press they had. Then they asked me to learn how to run a router, so I did that. Then they sent me to the warehouse to run the router over there and I did that for the next few months in the sweltering heat of summer. No A/C in the warehouse. Nine months after I was hired they asked me to train someone else to run the digital press so I could move into a production position, which is sort of a management/customer service/salesperson lackey job, so I did that. I've done everything they've ever asked of me and I guess that was valuable to some extent. They knew they could rely on me to get things done correctly and on time. They still know that, but this new situation still kind of sucks.

Let's hope it works out for the best. Guess I'll just have to make sure that it does. That's just what I do at work.

Not sure why I don't do the same in my personal life. My inconsistency at home doesn't really exist at work. It has gotten better at home, but it's still not the same. I guess when there are others who have control of my financial existence I tend to make sure I do what I can to ensure that that existence is secure. When I'm on my own at home I'm the only one that has a say in what I do or don't do. I have gotten better over the past couple years, that's for sure, but I'm not where I want to be. I may never be where I want to be as I'm extremely critical of myself most of the time. There are many blogs I've written that are just lying dormant because I just wasn't quite sure they were worth publishing. That's stupid. This is a blog for my friends and family and I'm pretty sure none of you give a shit if they aren't all ridiculously amazing.

Ha. As if any of them were ever ridiculously amazing. That's a high standard that is kind of stupid in this medium, but I'll settle for all of you just thinking they are entertaining enough to keep you reading 'til the end.

Or even halfway through I suppose.

That's not true. If that's as far as you can bother to get, I've failed.