Best of Edition

Perhaps spurred on by my cousin Howard, I feel like writing a 2010 Best of retrospective because that's what you do as you look back at the year that was.

Best Movie: Either True Grit or Inception. The only thing that bothered me about Inception was the four part ending tour de force at the end. It seemed that Nolan was trying to jam as much action and tie up as many storylines within a short time frame. It felt rushed, and was a bit out of sync...but, it's all a dream anyway, or was it?

True Grit on the other hand was a fun film from start to finish with great direction from the Coens and some wonderful acting from the cast. There really isn't much I can say wrong about the film in any shape or form.

Best New Album: Tom Jones, "Praise and Blame". Yeah, that Tom Jones. The Tom Jones that sings about being a "Sexbomb" Tom Jones. Apparently, Tom Jones went down to Memphis and pulled a Johnny Cash by going with sparse arrangements and singing about a life filled with regret and redemption. The result is a wonderful, and at times, chilling album. What "Praise and Blame" does so well is tell the story of a journey towards redemption...whether that redemption may be in the arms of a caring God, or just finding yourself along the way. There's some really great performances along the way, and Tom Jones has always had a great voice, so I would just say check it out because it's really worth it. For your listening pleasure here is the song "Burning Hell" which is the perfect example of the point the album is trying to convey. Maybe there ain't no Heaven...Maybe there ain't no Hell.



Best Video Game: I have to go with Red Dead Redemption on this one because no game captivated me for so long as this one. It was a combination of a great story in single player and the absolute freedom of doing whatever you wanted in a jammed packed Free Roam Multiplayer. I can't think of any other game where just jumping off a cliff or riding a stagecoach into a raging river was so much fun. Everything about this game was well done...from the voice acting to the graphics to the sound (a gunshot from a revolver sounds different than a repeater) to the horse physics. Hell, even the soundtrack was amazing. All I can say is I spent nearly 300 hours with this game (I was unemployed) and enjoyed nearly every minute.

Best TV Show: Hands down, "The Walking Dead" was the best show on television since "Angel" signed off so many years ago. The tale of former sheriff Rick Grimes trying to come to terms with a world that has been forever changed by a zombie apocalypse never failed to deliver in dramatic moments. You may have written off the show because it's about zombies. But, it's about so much more. Zombie media has always been more about the reflection of society rather than just a straight horror story. Add to this that the story tellers are unsympathetic as to how they tell this story, and you have a wonderful new AMC series. Here is the opening scene from the pilot. I was hooked after this:


I said they were unsympathetic.

Top Listening from 2010 from last.fm

I joined the website last.fm and it tracks your music listening from your computer. What follows are my Top Ten lists courtesy of the site.

Top Artists
1. Johnny Cash 1,649 listens
2. The Beatles 1,520 listens
3. Queen 946 listens
4. George Harrison 423 listens
5. Paul McCartney 344 listens
6. John Lennon 297 listens
7. Eric Clapton 295 listens
8. Nirvana 273 listens
9. Queen + Paul Rodgers 266 listens
10. Foo Fighters 235 listens

Top Tracks
1. Folsom Prison Blues (Johnny Cash) 28 plays
2. Compass (Jaime Lidell) 28 plays
3. I Still Miss Someone (Johnny Cash) 27 plays
4. If I Give My Soul (Tom Jones) 23 plays
5. Now I'm Here (Queen) 22 plays
6. Burning Hell (Tom Jones) 21 plays
7. Love of My Life (Queen) 19 plays
8. Say It's Not True (Queen + Paul Rodgers) 19 plays
Several songs tied at 18 plays

Top Albums
1. Live in Ukraine (Queen + Paul Rodgers) 156 plays
2. Praise and Blame (Tom Jones) 156 plays
3. Personal File Disc 1 (Johnny Cash) 148 plays
4. Help! (The Beatles) 131 plays
5. At San Quentin (Johnny Cash) 129 plays
6. The Beatles Disc 1 (The Beatles) 115 plays
7. Sheer Heart Attack (Queen) 96 plays
8. Unearthed Disc 5 (Johnny Cash) 92 plays
9. Beatles For Sale (The Beatles) 92 plays
10. Murder (Johnny Cash) 91 plays

And, there you have my two cents of how the year was on an entertainment level.

Another year over...

"So, this is Christmas.
And, what have you done?
Another year over.
A New One just begun."
John Lennon

2010. I will look back with disdain at this past year. It was the first Mother's Day without my Mom, and it was a sad time for the family. 2010, I was unemployed most of the year, and with millions of Americans was left searching for a job in a skinny job market. To end the year, Marion was diagnosed with cervical cancer.

The New Year is always one met with optimism as people look forward to starting anew and making unrealistic resolutions that they'll never keep. Maybe I'm jaded, but all I'm looking forward to this year is surviving another year in suburbia.

All I really want in this coming year is for Marion to start her treatments and to eventually get better. When I look back at 2011, I want to look back at the year as the year that Marion defeated cancer. That's all I really want in 2011.

As far as personal goals, I think I'll start something this coming year. Maybe I'll start writing "The Adventures of Gitchie Gatchy Goomie" like I wanted to for the past few years. I'm really not sure what I'll be doing...

"And a Happy New Year.
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any tears."

Nothing of note.

I feel good that there's not to much to write about recently. Thanks to the economy taking a belly flop on the back of the common man, well, I don't have a job to moan about to you either. I feel kind of blessed in that regard because I have more time to spend with Marion during this initial stage of diagnosis and treatment. There's plenty of time to troll the various job boards for a job. I can send out my resume, and hear nothing, just like the day before. And, for now, I'm cool with that.

Marion has pain every once in a while, and we know it's due to the tumor she has, but there's just not much we can do until the 3rd when we go for another Dr. appointment. She has pain medication that frankly doesn't work all too well. At least it's better than nothing. It's weird though because as far as the pain, she can be doing nothing and all of the sudden buckle. It makes me sad...

But, overall, she's doing well. She hasn't bled of note since December 8th when she was at the hospital. We go out maybe once or twice a week. We went to Wal Mart yesterday and that was like a huge deal for her. It's just kind of sad to me that Wal Mart is a huge excursion for her and most people just take that kind of trip for granted. I reckon people take a lot about life for granted. People take the blue sky of a clear day or the singing of a robin or the meow of a cat for granted. Life is a splendid and wonderful thing filled with wonders all the time. If we sat back and just took it all in maybe our hearts would burst. You can see this sort of thing in the eyes of children when everyday is filled with a new discovery or a new smell or taste. To regain the innocence of a child would be a wondrous thing. I long for that feeling of exhilaration.

So, tomorrow will be like the day before and the cycle repeats over again like a sadistic Lady Gaga recording [;)]. I'm just happy Marion is doing well.

Batista Hates Cancer

I don't have much to add today which I feel is a good thing. I'll leave you with a video made by ex-WWE superstar Dave Batista. Even if you don't like WWE, the subject is really about how cancer affects us all. It's corny in some parts, but I really like the message.

Bah Humbug!

I really wasn't going to do this, but this blog is my outlet, and I feel the need to vent. When you receive the diagnosis of cancer, I'm sure that it comes as a shock and a blow at any time of the year. But, to get it in the middle of the holiday season when everyone is so damned happy and cheerful just either pisses you off or makes you more jaded about the whole issue.

As a young lad, I loved this time of year. I loved the candlelight service at church. I loved opening the one present (just one!) on Christmas Eve. I loved visiting Mom-Mom on Christmas Eve at the High Rise. I loved my cousins Johnny and Mike coming over to see who got what. I just loved nearly every aspect of Christmas and the season.

I guess as you get older and more jaded, things like Christmas become more about rushing around and trying to find a good gift, or you just lose all that and turn into a bitter hermit cursing at all the Salvation Army bell ringers outside the department stores. I think Christmas starts to lose some of its magic as you grow more weary from this world.

So, with Christmas losing the magic already, Marion is diagnosed with cancer the Monday after Thanksgiving. Looking forward into the next month at that time was very difficult. All those festive songs. All those happy people. All those kids too young to know any better that life will wear down on them...

I can listen to most Christmas songs. Songs about a deformed reindeer or a snowman or silver bells don't really bother me. But, one song, as hideous and as tedious as it is, disturbs me to the point of tears because of its message. "All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey just makes me so sad. You may think to yourself, why. And to answer your question, I'm not too sure. Maybe I feel the loss of something that we'll never have again. Maybe it's because I really dislike Mariah's cat like screeching. Whatever the reason, the songs bothers me.

I went shopping alone for presents this year, and that bothered me too. Every Christmas since we've lived together (14 years), we went together and picked out presents for one another and family. To go alone was tremendously hard to do. A well meaning cashier commented on a sweater I bought for Marion by asking if it was for "my lady". I choked up a bit, and mumbled an affirmative. She saw I was kind of upset and said things will work out, whatever it may be. How do you even acknowledge that? I just muttered a thanks and went my way.

For some reason I was also obsessed with getting the TY Beanie Babies Peanuts characters, especially Woodstock (Marion's favorite). I went to Five Below where they were advertised and told they didn't have any. Again, I almost broke down. I hope I hid it better. I did finally track those down, by the way.

But, my point is around this time of year people are just so cheerful, and they don't want to be brought down with some serious issues like cancer and sickness or what have you. People want to eat their fruit cake, buy their presents, and wish you well. I know everyone is just trying to be good intentioned, but it just hurts to know what I do, and to be powerless against this disease. I know Marion has a really good chance, but I still just wish it was all a nightmare (a very lucid one) that I could wake from; I'd hug her and hold her tight and tell her everything was just a terrible dream. That's my Christmas wish, but I realize that it's just not the way things are.

15 years...hoping for 15 more.

Today, December 23rd, 2010, Marion and I have been together for 15 years. We have been together through good times and bad. We have weathered many storms, and are facing a true storm right now. I said previously that Marion being diagnosed with cancer was a tremendously sour blow to us, and to the future. Life changed forever on the day Marion was diagnosed for the both of us. Now, we face this trek into the unknown together.

Despite outward appearances, Marion is pretty insecure (at least privately). I learned earlier this week that one of her fears after being diagnosed was that I would leave her. While slightly insulted that she would feel I was so trivial and cold, I understand the underlining fear that was at work there. Marion has been mistreated throughout her life. Whether it was cold parents, abusive relationships, or any number of terrible, truly terrible things that have happened to her in her life. So, I could understand how she must feel...when the going gets tough, people in her life had a way of just leaving her to deal with her issues.

All I can say about Marion is that no one has loved, supported, and stood by me like she has. She has traveled across this country on a whim and a dream just for me. She worked her ass off to provide for us when I went to college. She cooked, cleaned, and made sure I had whatever I wanted because she wanted to make me happy. The thing is she never quite understood that what made me happy was just being with her.

When we first moved in with one another, we would just lie together and talk. If it's one thing Marion can do, that's talk about damn near any topic whether she has any training in it or not. But, that kind of fascinates me in a way because I only talk when I "know" something. Marion isn't too concerned with minor details...if she doesn't know enough about something, she'll improvise. It's kind of impressive and annoying all at the same time.

Regardless, throughout our time together, I have never doubted her love for me. I gave her reasons to give up on what we had, but she has always without question believed and trusted in me simply because she loves me. That's a pretty powerful statement, but in Marion's case it is true beyond a shadow of a doubt. While others have passed me by, Marion has been the one constant in my life for these past 15 years. It may sound cliche to say she completes me or she is my life, but in this case, it's not. We have sheltered each other from this world, and she is truly my home.

Which is why this diagnosis of cancer scares me to death. I try and say to myself that this will all work out, and she'll get better. But, it's the uncertainty that troubles me at this point. I realize we're so close to getting some answers after about three months of trying to get something done. I'm happy that her mammogram came back normal. But, I dread finding out the stage of this cancer. I dread hearing the prognosis as much as I yearn to find out. I'm angry at the first ER doctor who obviously saw a tumor and said NOTHING to us, but referred us to the clinic. I'm angry that the clinic did one biopsy and told us everything was okay, only to admit their mistake and get another sample which came back positive. I'm angry there are incompetent people in charge of people's health. Most of all, I'm angry at a God that could allow all of this to happen while Marion's future is no more certain than it was our first trip to the ER in October.

I am happy that Marion is now (finally) on a path to treatment and quality care with the Cooper Cancer Institute. I am happy my Dad has been by our side for this entire ordeal. I am happy that Marion isn't doing all that bad (yet?). I am happy Marion has gotten increasingly better since the 8th when honestly I almost lost her from blood loss.

But, I fear an uncertain future that I know will be trying to say the least. I fear losing her. We had a talk earlier this week where I basically told her that I would be by her side regardless of any prognosis. I told her she had to stay strong and fight whatever the prognosis. I let her know the 5 year survival rates of the various stages of cervical cancer. And, I let her know that we could beat those numbers. I believe all of that because I believe in Marion and me, that's reality. As the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, I knew the pain she must be in...of lost dreams, of lost hopes...but, I told her that we can do this...together. And, we will.

So, on our 15th Anniversary, we'll be going to the Women's Care at Cooper University Hospital. While I dread finding out the extent of her condition, I know we both must know. We have to know what we're fighting so we can kick its ass...'cause that's what we do.

Together.

KLVX, Las Vegas PBS

If there is one job that I still miss to this day, and one job that I actually learned and grew with, it was KLVX Channel 10 in Las Vegas, Nevada.

I'm sorry to disappoint, but this will not be a blog about who I hated, what I hated, or why I hated it. Rather, this will be a nostalgic look at a job I never should have left, and one I should have stayed with. KLVX-10 was a PBS station serving most of Southern Nevada. It was the station that covered Harry Reid's debates in 2004 while I was there. It was an experience that I wanted for so long, yet I let it slip away.

Working there was the most relaxed environment I have ever been in. All the directors were so knowledgeable and helpful (there was a team of four or so). The Producer, Tom, was by far the best boss I have ever had. The Program Director was a funny guy that I could impersonate quite well, Mitch. During my time there, I worked sound, camera, floor directing, and grip work. I learned more in my too short time there than in the three years of schooling I had.

I worked part time through the production department. Most days I worked the mornings doing a distance education program of Nutrition with this pumped up steroid guy. He was a nice guy too, but working on the program wasn't too challenging because it was a stationary shoot (meaning the camera never moved, like a Kevin Smith movie). But, before the show, the prep work, was where you would learn more. Doing mic checks, getting the lighting right, making sure the chromo keys were set up properly, were all important aspects to getting this simplistic show taped.

Every week, I also worked on "Inside Education" with Ray Willis. Ray was a great guy and we kind of bonded together during my time there. He liked my work, and my Mitch impersonation. He taught me a lot about being an on air talent, and how talent works seamlessly with the Production team. Part of working on "Inside Education" was going out on location to get a variety of shoots. Mostly, we'd visit schools of the Clark County School district, but sometimes we'd get lucky and get to go to the "House of Blues" or something like that.

Also, every week, I'd work on our live program, "Nevada Week in Review". Man, I loved working on that show. It was fast paced and exciting to be part of a live broadcast. It was also exciting being part of a politics forum. I got to know a few of the panel a bit. But, working on the show was always a treat.

I also miss working with Steve. He was like the man at arms there. He did all the lighting, all the mic work, most of the soundboard, and he was generally just an all around great guy who may have loved The Butterfly Effect just a bit too much.

My time there was short lived because Marion was jumped by some piece of gutter trash when she was walking to work one night. I still don't get all of why that happened, or any of the specifics of the situation, but I felt so alone when I was sitting in the ER. Granted, I knew her injuries weren't life threatening, but she and I were scared beyond belief. It was when reacting to this fear that I feel I made a grave error. I decided to move back to New Jersey and leave Vegas behind. It was an error because there were so many good opportunities for me out there, and I do miss the place. I miss waking up and seeing mountains. I miss how alive the place was. I miss the Strip. I miss damn near everything about Las Vegas.

It was a mistake to come back to New Jersey just as things were getting started for me. Sure, there were roadblocks and I made mistakes before Marion's attack, but the way we reacted to the fear (which is natural in a situation like that) was not the proper way for us to react. It led us down the current path we are on now, which as I've said has been the most trying, sad, and depressing time in my life. I do regret coming back to New Jersey, and if I can ever find the means to leave again, I will as soon as possible. New Jersey is just such a depressing place no matter where you are in the state (maybe Cape May isn't).

If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.

I'm taking a break from my retrospective about my employment history for the time being. Oh, I'll probably write something tomorrow or so.

I've been pretty melancholy this holiday season due to Marion's condition, Ron being in the hospital, and still missing Mom during another Christmas season. My Mom loved Christmas and decorating for Christmas. I was talking with my Dad about it earlier this month. My Mom was a gifted artisan in a way. She made these drum ornaments for the tree one year. She must have made at least 300 if not more. I could only imagine the detail that went into crafting each one. I can only imagine the sense of accomplishment she must have had when she finished and had all those little drums on her tree.

I think I wrote previously that I've been in a funk since returning to New Jersey from Las Vegas back in early 2005. I haven't written (besides this blog and innocuous facebook postings) since my screenplay "Minimum Wage". I really think by the time I got to that particular screenplay, my writing for the film medium had developed quite nicely. Dialogue was coming more naturally. I was actually developing good plots, and I had unique ideas (as much as film can be unique). I often try to outline a new idea or two, but always seem to talk myself out of it. The last serious idea I had was writing a screenplay based on my Dad's bedtime serial stories, "Gitchy Gatchy Goomie". I think it would be an original story. Heck, any story about a kid that's dropped off on a deserted island to "toughen him up" is pretty original in my estimation.

Yet, I am faced with self doubt that it wouldn't lead anywhere when I know full well there's a chance that it could lead somewhere, but maybe I would rather live in a world of "ifs" and dream that I could have been the next Ethan Coen if I just sent my script away. Besides "Minimum Wage" I wrote two other screenplays I felt were pretty decent. "A.C.E. Atlantic City Expressway" and "Among Thieves". But, when I look at the files on my hard drive, and I read them, I just think they aren't good enough and no one would even find them at all appealing.

I live in a world of self doubt, I suppose. I'm crippled by it, and I just grow older by my inaction.

Regardless of my writing aspirations, this time of year always depresses me for any number of reasons. It should be a joyous time, and one filled with hope. I just see things the way they are. It's just another year that has passed me by. It's another year that I've bid farewell to friends and family. It's just another step closer to absolutely nothing. I realize that I'm not being filled with Christmas cheer here, but I'm engaged in a battle. I'm saddened about Marion's condition, and I feel so helpless. I'm not really helpless. I think it's just that powerless feeling that goes along with getting a diagnosis such as this. Even when the cancer is staged, and treatments begin, I think there will still be that hopelessness. I'm battling that because I hate self-defeating ideology. I'm just trying to stay strong.

Maybe it's time to start outlining another project.

Finally, some good news!

Marion got a call today while I was out from the Cooper Cancer Institute. Since an abnormality was found on the pap smear (which we knew there would be an abnormality), she is covered for further diagnostic testing. Granted, we already know she has cervical cancer, and we already have had diagnostic tests done. You may wonder why we're going through all this again.

It's kind of a two fold answer. One, I felt that the clinic she was going to for her original issue was very incompetent. They were overcrowded, always in a hurry, and more concerned with getting people in and out. While I realize that the biopsy that was done was done correctly, I still feel the need for a second diagnosis. That also constitutes the second reason we're doing this. Being uninsured leaves little to no options. People with insurance don't understand that because they have insurance and can't comprehend all the red flags and tape the uninsured have to go through. This path we're on now is part of the NJ CEED program. The treatments will begin once it's been diagnosed again. That should be soon, so very soon.

So, this is a post of hope. I also saw Ron, my cousin, today. While he is still very weak, he remains in good spirits and very hopeful of his prognosis. I am hopeful too, and I hope that he continues to regain strength. He's an important guy to me, and a lot of other people.

Helpful Links:
NJ CEED Program Info

And since Howard posted his favorite Christmas carol, here's mine:

Flextronics: Life on Hold

After my stint of living in Las Vegas, I cam back to New Jersey optimistic. I was ready to make some changes and put the past behind me. Somehow, it's worked out much differently than I had planned so far at this point. I don't want to make it appear that all is doom and gloom since I've been back, but these past five years since I have been back in NJ have been the most trying, sad, and stressful times in my life.

So, getting back to Flextronics. I applied to Solectron in November of 2005 on a whim. It was a posting for a technical service rep. I would be (I assumed) working on cell phones. I would repair them in shop. That's not exactly how it worked though. From the time of my interview, to being in store, I knew something was amiss. The interview consisted of just a few questions such as, "When can you start?" and "Do you have a criminal record?" Besides those few rudimentary queries, there wasn't much more. It wasn't so much a traditional interview as it was a desperate attempt to put someone in a store as quickly as possible.

The one week training was a lavish affair out of town. I traveled from South Jersey to Baltimore, MD to stay in a Residence Inn for a week on the company. Breakfast and dinner were provided as well. It was this facade of lavishness that drew you in and wanted you to stay with the company. I mean, a company that will foot your hotel bill for a week when you first start has to be a wonderful company, right?

The training was all about CDMA and cell phones and a bunch of other crap I don't want to even remember. There was a time I could have told you all the differences between a CDMA network and a GSM network, but those days are long behind me. I found it strange that the trainer wasn't actually training us on how to fix phones, but rather he was training us on how to replace phones by checking their warranty status and such. But, I figured if we didn't actually have to repair them, that made things easier because how hard could replacing a broken phone for a new one be?

So, after a week of free meals, beer, and lackluster training that prepared me for nothing, I was sent to my "home" store. Once there, I met my "Team Leader" who ran the shop with an iron fist. I also met someone who took me under her wing, and who I think I never fully thanked for her help in the early days. Without her, I don't think I would have lasted for nearly as long as I did. I also met Bill. Bill was the prototype worker for Solectron. He was fat, lazy, and avoided any and all work at all costs (as long as he didn't have to get out of his chair). I came to loathe Bill and his obvious lack of any work ethic. It made the entire shop look bad, but I digress. What struck me about the job in those early days was just how often they would give out PD's, or Performance Documents. I have never before or since seen a company that feels the need to document as many asinine things as this company. And, my first TL was a master of writing a PD. She was an artist at it and could literally with the force of her mind alone conjure up a PD out of thin air. To this day, nearly five years later, I still harbor resentment over just how many PDs I would get (over such frivolous things) and Bill didn't get nary a one. It was ineffective management.

I was transferred soon after starting to the Hamilton Mall. I was transferred because I think the TL didn't like me and wanted me out of her store, but who knows? The way the company worked they would transfer people just to transfer them for no other reason than they wanted to transfer people and move them around. I was welcomed into my new store by a kid who was younger than me (by many years) and another Bill-like clone named Fred. At least Fred was helpful and we got along pretty well. The fresh faced lad wasn't a TL yet, that wasn't his destiny at that point. He was a made up position called a...as I search my memory I can't recall what they called it. But, it was the same as a TL with all the demands, and responsibility without the pay. Yes, it was Lead Tech. It was a position I was soon to be "promoted" to.

I liked the Hamilton Mall. Working with Fred was fun because of his sardonic outlook on life in general. He was a full blooded Irishman, and filled out the stereotype quite well. The fresh faced lad was eventually promoted to a TL when we got another man in the shop. For a time it was joyous. I really liked the work. But, of course, things would change.

Verizon was Solectron's master, and Verizon noted that more than 50% of the people go to the service counter. Why can't the service department sell, they must have reasoned? So, if this sounds familiar to Comcast, you're right. Sales and service are connected, you see, so let's make them sell. There were obvious problems with this.

First, people that are having an issue with a cell phone aren't the happiest people in the world. It would seem that someone cut off their right hand because they dropped a call. As such, these people were pissed, super pissed. It was far from a conductive environment to sell to someone. The second problem was that most of these people already had or didn't need what little we could sell to them. We'd be told to look at their account histories to see if they texted much, etc. The trouble is most people who did text, already had some type of text plan. The people who didn't text, didn't need a plan, etc. If it wasn't a text plan, then we were told to sell the extended warranties that made me feel like I was working at Radio Shack. To bad I couldn't sell Double A batteries too. The last issue with selling is we weren't working on a commission, but the Verizon sales reps were. We were literally taking money out of their pockets whenever we sold a case or charger. The reason Verizon wanted this is because they could reap the revenue without having to pay the commission on the sale.

So, selling became a hot point soon after I started again. PDs were written for your lack of selling savvy. PDs were written if you were a minute late. PDs were written if you missed a "selling opportunity". PDs were written if you forgot to greet a customer. PDs flowed like wine at Hamilton Mall. My file after the Hamilton Mall was stuffed to the breaking point. Obviously, this was to document my lackluster performance. It wouldn't hold up in an unemployment hearing, but the PDs sure did make things look official. And, by the size of my file, I was quite official. It was an oppressive existence after a while and it became a challenge to get another PD for something ludicrous. I told Fred I was going to say "Damn" on the sales floor...you guessed it, PD. I had so many PDs after Hamilton Mall, they no longer meant anything.

Luckily, they shipped me out to the Cumberland Mall. I called that home for nearly the next year or so. Initially, it was a two man shop with no one in charge of anything. We didn't have anyone really looking over our shoulder, and it was pretty good for a while. The other tech, Eddie, and I got along really well. The only obstacle we faced was Verizon Management at this point. On that front, we were okay for a while because the manager was a cool dude. The Ops Manager was a total bitch, but she had little to no power at this point. So, we would do what we had to do and that was the end of it.

After some time, they finally realized we needed another tech, so I became the de facto Lead Tech. That meant I had all the responsibility with no pay increase. Now, the Ops Manager came to me about all sorts of things that really didn't matter. And, I was soon introduced to my true nemesis...April. April was a manger who had career aspirations in mind. Since this is a family friendly blog, let's just say she was a shrew of a woman. She made everyday a trial with no reward. She would talk to you and say everything was a-ok, and then email your supervisor and rag on you. She did this consistently throughout the time I knew her. She was a two faced wretch that only looked out for herself and hated the tech department with a passion. The feeling was mutual after some time.

Each day when I came in I would receive a report that Eddie went to the bathroom to long, or Ronin (the third tech) was rapping too loud, or a sorts of nonsense. It didn't matter that we did the exchanges within the metrics, or our numbers (which at this point were based on a take rate) were excellent. When things were going okay, they still found something, anything to complain about. It was all such a bunch of nonsense. Along with all this was the mounds of unnecessary paperwork that detailed our every movement in the shop. There were reports for amounts of exchanges, data and accessories sold, payroll, attendance, amount of bathroom breaks, etc. It was mind numbing. And, I was growing increasingly bitter that I was doing all this and getting paid the same as other techs that just had to show up. A posting for a TL popped up, and I took the opportunity, because a) I would be out of April's reach (for the time being) and b) I would finally get the pay increase I deserved.

The interview for the position was probably the worst I ever had. I didn't matter though, because I was shooting for them to look at my accomplishments rather than if I could answer a bunch of stupid questions. It worked out and after a lengthy review process, I finally got the promotion.

Echelon Mall was a pretty good time. I was there for a year, and Tom, the VZ manager was alright. He had a habit about complaining about how Ed sold batteries, but really that was his only issue. He was a laid back guy, and that worked with me because there wasn't too much to worry about. The Ops Manager was a crap faced jackass though. She was in charge of our monthly QA Evaluation and always marked things off for no reason. If we had one SKU error, we were unacceptable. If we had minor issues, we were always unacceptable. Add to it that she had absolutely no sense of humor, and it made life a living hell. The Assistant Manager was an awesome Dominican named Ray. He always made jokes about his heritage (like "Why don't Dominicans BBQ? Because the beans would go through the grill") Tom and Ray were great to work for, but that Ops Manager was just so overbearing.

My team at Echelon is what I affectionately called the A-Team. We were a great team. I am best friends with Anthony to this day. Sarah is still close with me. Ed, well, I wish Ed and I were closer. But, the time of the A-Team was a great time. We won awards, contests (most improved), and generally were left alone. Serena was our fearless leader, and I've never had a boss who was as awesome as she was. She would listen to me, my concerns, and work to improve things. PDs were a thing of the past...because I think we both felt they were crap. I think as a TL at Echelon I wrote maybe 3 PDs because Christine (the Regional Manager) was gripping I didn't write any.

Things changed though. For reasons I still don't understand, they changed the take rate system (basically it was a ratio of transactions vs. accessories and data sold) to an arbitrary system of 3 accessories and 1 data per tech per day. It made no sense because most stores were successful under the take rate system. The arbitrary system is a system setting you up for failure, and that's what it did.

I wanted to transfer about this time to the Lancaster, PA store. I put in for it, had a phone interview, and assumed that based on my experience and accomplishments that i would get it. Well, they had their boy already in place. I was bitter that I didn't get it, and a well intentioned joke from Ed just hit me the wrong way. Despite all that was accomplished with the A-Team and Echelon, I felt like I wasn't being treated seriously. The switch to the 3/1 system hit our store hard since we didn't have much foot traffic. The Ops Manager became increasingly unstable, and Tom started getting less relaxed and more like a real VZ Manager. I think Tom had pressure put on him by his DM, and that led to him taking it out on us.

I moved to be closer to the Echelon Mall, and during my week vacation was called and told that I was being moved to another store. I found this to be completely unacceptable because I just moved about 35 miles so I could be closer to my store, and then they wanted me to still make a 30 mile trek. I said in no uncertain terms, that I wouldn't go to Princeton. It was too far and it was a joke they would wait until I move to do it. They offered me Cherry Hill (closer than Echelon and right down the road, really) and I took it. Oh, how I wished they just left me in Echelon or I took Princeton. Cherry Hill would be the end of me.

I think I lasted about a month, possibly two, at Cherry Hill. It seemed that the deck was stacked against me. The team that was in place there was the worst group of individuals I ever had to work with in any company, period. Besides Rebecca, who is also still a friend to this day, and Angelica, everyone there hated me. It was a team effort to work against me as I replaced their uber-popular TL. If they just worked with me, rather than against me, life would have been great. The worst offender was this twit named Kyle or something. He made it a mission to outright challenge my every move, be belligerent, and just be an a-hole every minute of every day towards me. The thing was I was probably the easiest going TL in the company, and if given even half a chance, we could have gotten along. After about two weeks of putting up with his crap, I finally snapped and cursed him out. He acted like I punched a baby in the face, and an investigation was launched. I made it pretty clear it was me or him. Well, since he was an idiot, he got into another argument withe a sales rep and was shipped out by the end of that week.

There were other factors at work too. April from Cumberland Mall was the Manger here, and in the year or so since we last saw each other she became even more of a shrew. The Ops Manager from Echelon came over as well, just to add to my misery. Serena was replaced when the zones were realigned. We were a tech down and it was hard to have coverage for the store on any given day. The stress was so overwhelming that I developed a horrible case of acid reflux where I would wake up choking in the middle of the night. Everything was bearing down on me. My new manager (on the Flextronics side) was well intentioned, but unhelpful. I think it was because she was a bit in over her head at the time, I'm not sure. She was a true artist with a PD as well writing out PDs for missing conference calls I was on but she said I wasn't. I got all sorts of PDs for a variety of reasons that only added to the stress. I knew she was only trying to cover her own ass, but it looked to me that she was trying to create a patsy.

I seeked out other employment soon after. After I signed my offer letter with Comcast, I wrote my manager a brief note offering my resignation. There are grand stories that I threw my till across the store and called April this and that. I'm sorry to report it was a quiet resignation and that April was on vacation when I quit. I do like the Legend of Dean's Resignation, and it still is a rumor within the stores of Verizon.

The stress was unbearable by the time I left, and it soured me on management positions. I wanted the least amount of responsibility possible, and still seek that out to this day. The rewards just aren't worth declining health and sanity. I met some people at Flex that I consider dear friends to this day. I'm happy I met Anthony and Becca. I happy I know Sarah and Ryan. I'm happy Serena is a close friend to this day and is a true confidant. I have no regrets about leaving the company because they just didn't give a crap after all the hard work you would do. They chewed you up, spit you out, and then pissed on you and everything you did. Accomplishments were only important for a week or a month at best. It just didn't matter what you did, because they always wanted more. Well, they took all I could give. They broke me, and though I've since gotten past the hate I once had for a lot of the people involved in a rather quick downfall, I'm still bitter I was viewed as nothing more than a joke to most people there. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I accomplished a lot in just a few years there. I made life long friendships. That's all that matters to me anyway.

My cousin Ron and The Beatles

As I finished up my previous blog about Comcast, I started playing some Beatles here on my computer. Why do I feel the need to play the Beatles on a Sunday. I think it goes back to my youth and when I would spend a Saturday night at my cousin's house. My cousin Ron was a pastor, and he would prepare his final notes on a Saturday if he was preaching the following Sunday. But, those Sunday mornings were always the best. He would play a selected Beatles LP (the real vinyl) as he got ready for church. When I was younger, I wouldn't care too much for it. By the time I was 15 or so, I came to appreciate The Beatles more and more. I can pinpoint it to Let it Be and the song "Two of Us" (which always reminded me of Mike and I). Mike is his son, and from the time I was 13 to about 17 or so, we were always together. We were close before then, but for those four years or so we did everything together.

This included frequent sleepovers at his house and the warmly remembered times of listening to the Beatles. I'm reminded of the Monopoly games with my cousin Ruthie when Mike was busy with his (at the time) girlfriend Kate. Ruthie and I became closer for a time because Mike was driving, going on dates, and the like. I'd still come over...kind of pathetically, and hang out with the rest of the family. Ron and I became closer due to a love of Millville football and the TV show "Picket Fences" which became a Friday Night tradition at Ron's house until I started hanging out in diners with books of bad poetry and tepid coffee.

Ron taught me how to properly steep tea, and how to work a comedic moment or two. If anything can be said about Ron, it's that he has a great comedic timing, and he always found a way to make me laugh. I've never said to him that I love him, but I do. He gave me a love for The Beatles, for tea, and for the importance of laughing. He was also my Youth Pastor for a while, and some of the retreats we went on were some of my fondest moments of my youth. I always wished I was a better athlete because he was always so good. I was terrible in sports, making the Freshman Baseball team on heart alone.

Though the years have passed, whenever I see Ron, I remember those times of my youth. When my Mom passed away, I could think of no one that I would rather have be a part of the service. When I wanted a grand marriage ceremony (before all this mess that Marion's been going through), there was no one besides Ron that I even considered to marry us.

So, I love Ron. He's going through a rough patch right now with his cancer, and I hope for the best. I hope he gets through this because I know how much he means to people. I know some wounds need to be healed, and I'm not going into that here, but I hope everything works out. They say time heals all wounds, and I know personally with my brother Dan, that seems to be the case with my Dad. Time has a way of doing that.

We Dream Big Here: The Story of Comcast

I was talking about my blog last night with a friend, and I was saying that there was just no way to sugarcoat my time with Comcast. Simply put, Comcast was the worst job I have ever had. There is no other way to say it. There is no other way to express the horrid existence that encompassed my every moment at Comcast.

I joined the ranks of Comcast when I left Flextronics on a whim. I felt that Flextronics had terribly mistreated me (which was somewhat true), and that the only way to escape was to seek other employment elsewhere. Of course, Comcast would be such a place, right? I mean, they are a multi-billion dollar company that owns their own networks, call centers, and what not. This would be my plan, to get in at a call center and eventually through my hard work and dedication apply and land a job with either CN8 (which is now the Comcast Network) or Comcast Sports Philly. I had months of experience working in TV. I had years of training for TV Production and Film. Surely, this would have to work. I was wrong yet again. And, being wrong this time led to perhaps the worst year of my working life.

I worked in a Call Center with Comcast. I was hired for the APG or Advanced Products Group Department. When I was hired I was told that there would be no selling involved (as that was a concern of mine) and that I would be troubleshooting internet issues from people. I would not be taking any calls about cable or the rather new phone that Comcast had launched. My only concern was to troubleshoot the internet, and that was the most of it.

It sounded like an utopia. I would just have to tell people to unplug their modem. wait 30 seconds, and try to get online again. I'd do this between 20 and 30 times a day, and I'd get paid for it. It was beyond an easy payday. This was getting paid to basically sit there, watch TV, and tell people to do something that they should have done before they called us.

However, Comcast had a series of metrics in place to ensure misery on your part. First, they timed your calls. It's been so long now that I forget exactly what the metric was at the time, but it was something like a 5 minute call average. Think about that. Within 5 minutes you should have gotten the customer's info, verified it, troubleshot their issue, ask them if they had any other issues, and say goodbye. The first problem with this is obviously some people that call are just slow either mentally or physically. Some people would call and their modems are nestled in the corner of a basement that only a trained acrobat could get to. Some people had no idea what a "modem" was. Some people didn't even have the power to their computer on. It was times like this that you would go a bit crazy because you knew you were in a bind, and if you were on a call longer than say, 12 minutes, you would have a supervisor or one of their lackeys come over and ask you why you were on the phone for "so long". The job was still bearable, but things soon changed.

I was trained to take calls about phone issues soon after I started (I believe within three months). These calls were much more technical, and took more time to figure out. Sometimes, it was an issue we couldn't fix and we'd send it off to the appropriate department. This took time though, and raised your average call time. The biggest issue I had initially with the phone issues was on Thanksgiving of '07, after 8pm, I was the only one on staff for the entire state of New Jersey to take phone issues. So, while my co-workers were literally throwing a football over my head and generally loafing off, I had call after call after miserable call. Honestly, most people took 4 or 5 calls the entire night. I took 35 or so. I nearly quit that night.

The second metric that added to my misery was around the fifth month there, they decided to make us, the service department, sell. Now, remember, I asked during my interview(s) (to three different people) if selling was part of the job. I was told by three different people during the interview process that there would be absolutely no way that selling would be involved, much less as a way for you to be measured on as a successful troubleshooter. Before the switch to selling, my numbers were pretty good, if not excellent. My average call time was excellent. My hold time was excellent. The calls that were reviewed were good to excellent. All the metrics they measured me by were golden. They were so good, that within five to six months of employment I was promoted to a level 2 position. Level 3 would never come to pass simply based off my upgrades (selling).

In a word, I felt betrayed that this company was looking so desperately for revenue that they figured they could make us sell. I felt betrayed because I was told in the interview and the months in between that selling was never going to be an issue. I felt betrayed...because soon it became a reason to put people on PIPs (Personal Improvement Plans) that would stop you from transferring to other places. I couldn't see what selling a person faster internet had to do with transferring into the Production department. I couldn't see what selling a second phoneline to people had to do with getting into dispatch. But, if you were on a PIP, it disqualified you from transferring out of the call center and going anywhere else.

When I found out about the impending doom of selling crap to people that they couldn't afford or even need, I tried like a madman to transfer anywhere but the call center. I tried Dispatch, several TV positions, Research, etc. Those applications for internal transfer just sat there for months while my numbers went south based solely on my upgrade numbers which were now more important than any other metric we had. In the course of perhaps three months, I went from someone who was promoted rather quickly to someone of the verge of being placed on a PIP. I saw my intentions of using the call center as a springboard to a TV position go up in smoke right before my eyes all due to something I never had the intention to do.

Just after about 9 months of being there, I was formally placed on my first PIP. This led to meetings with my apathetic and MIA supervisor, the Night Manager, and eventually the Director of APG. I know it was after my second meeting with both my supervisor and Night Manager that I decided I would just phone it in from there on in. I was told during that meeting that it was their job to make sure I was happy whether that was with Comcast or not. From that point forward, the writing was on the wall, and I decided I would just show up and take calls. I sure as hell wasn't going to sell. But, I would take calls, troubleshoot, and wait for the pink slip that would surely be coming my way.

But, the pink slip would never come. I would stroll in a half hour late and not a word would be said. I would sometimes get on the train to go to work, get off at the station, and just get back on and go home. I would call Comcast and use their very liberal Flex-Time, and nothing would ever be said about it. I swear, I didn't show up for about a month at one point, and I still had a job. I just came back to work and NO ONE said a thing. I still get health insurance, pension, and the like from Comcast. For months afterward, I was still signed up for trainings through the company. It was so odd. I couldn't shake this place.

Other reasons why Comcast was so horrid was the management team never, and I mean, never wanted to help out. With the exception of my first supervisor (who wisely left APG soon after selling became a huge metric), I had a series of increasingly horrid supervisors. The first was a Kermit look alike that was never at his desk after 6pm when most of the calls started coming through. I'd have to search through the maze of desks, lockers, and cubicles to find someone who could help out. There was a rather large, fat, and lazy supervisor who stayed at her desk, but she would make such an issue out of you coming to her, that you hated seeking her out. "Where's YOUR supervisor?" she would ask already knowing the answer that he was in the gym or not even on site. We had a Tier Two team that was just right next to us, but we couldn't ask them for help for reasons I don't even understand. Here's the people right here who could settle an issue, but let me fill out this form instead and hope they fix it within 48 hours.

Finally, the people who called in were just horrible people. There were a few good natured souls who were very happy that you were there to help them get back online so they could watch porn (I had one guy at midnight tell me that). But, I'd say a good 90% of the people were bitter souls who didn't know how to deal with people. They would curse at you. They would belittle you. They would threaten you with bodily harm. We had one guy who was so bad...he was actually a gravedigger (I can't make this up) and he would call in whenever his meds wore off and make women cry (seriously). He would say the most outlandish and messed up things. I never got to take one of his calls, but whenever he called in there would be an email alert that he was on the prowl.

But, even if you didn't have these extremes, most people were generally complete a-holes. Like I said, they didn't know how to deal with people and would just yell and scream demanding everything under the sun. One call after another was the norm. I was called everything under the sun and back again...all because they couldn't get online (usually due to their own incompetence). It was insane how people would treat you. At my peak I averaged 40 calls a night and I'd say 30 to 35 cursed me out, called me an idiot, or wished death upon me. It's not because of anything I had said. This was usually their greeting to me..."You SOB, I f-ing hate Comcast, and you f-ers f-ing f-ed up my internet, and now I can't get HD channels on my f-ing TV because you're all f-ing f-s. You listenin' to me, you f-ing idiot?" After a while, this bears down upon you.

So, I never did get to transfer to TV Production. I never did become a Level 3 CAE. No, my career was stalled at Level 2 and since I wouldn't sell, I would forever be a Level 2. I felt there was no career advancement because I tried to get out of the call center while my numbers were still on the up and up. Hell, I even tried to transfer to the warehouse...seriously. I tried all this because I did feel that Comcast was recession proof and they provide stability. But, I just couldn't bear being called a f-ing idiot one more time, and I just couldn't stand the thought of being stuck in a call center for the rest of my days. Add to it I was going through a rough patch mentally at the time, and well, I made my decision to use all my Flex-Time and never come back. And, that's what I did. I was hired at Col Penn just as I took my last Flex day. And, even though Col Penn didn't work out, it was a reprieve from the horrible place that Comcast was. I met some great people at Comcast that I keep up with on facebook and all. We're not close friends, but we keep up with one another. I don't harbor any ill will toward the company because I do think they offer some good services, and overall I'm happy with the Triple Play I currently have. I just wish that selling never became a part of success there, and I could have transfered out to TV which was my intention, and which I was told would be an option for me due to my background. I was lied to by nearly everyone in the company and held back. I think they just wanted to keep everyone in their place.

But, overall, it wasn't so bad. Some of the callers were fun. Like the old guy who called after the McCain/Obama debate and told me Obama was born in Kenya and we shouldn't put him on TV. Or, there was the "meow" game I would play with a few customers here or there. My record was 21 "meows" in the course of a conversation (the "meow" game was inspired by Super Troopers). I was on a podcast for a while that was fun, but I felt wasn't going anywhere. Maybe I'll start calling in again. It was fun to do. The co workers were the only reason to like the job. Everything else was rubbish.

Up next in the series, "Life on Hold: The TL's Guide to Flextronics".

Smilin' and Dialin': The Untold Story of Colonial Penn

I decided to start a series here on my blog. While I feel it's important to discuss my feelings about Marion's condition, I also feel it may be wise to go back and look at things that only time can give you clarity on. They say that a man is his job. Well, I can only say that I've had one job in my entire life that I gave 100% for. We'll get to that in another post. For now, I'm going to go back in time and review the jobs I've had. I think it will be an interesting and humorous look back at my accomplishments, failures, and mistakes. Perspective, I believe, is only gained after the fact. I now have full perspective of each of these jobs.

The last job I held was with the nationally known Colonial Penn Insurance company. I worked in telesales. Basically, each day we would get a new list of the people that called the 1-800 # the night before and we would call them and attempt to sell them the life insurance. It was fairly easy because, well, you were dealing with older Americans that basically had no concept of what life insurance was or why they even needed it.

Now, let me direct you behind the curtain and illustrate the dirty dealings of just how Col Penn worked. We would call the person and using a liberal script (you were encouraged to use the script as a guideline, not verbatim, as a way to sound more conversational) give them a sales pitch on the virtues of GBL or Graduated Benefit Life. Basically, GBL is a product aimed at people who are older and may not qualify for another type of life insurance. It is a good policy for those suffering from AIDS, cancer, COPD, or any other number of diseases that would otherwise disqualify from getting life insurance. The issue at hand was that most of the people that we called were doing pretty good health wise. People had a way of telling you the truth, I think. They figure we would catch their bullshit if they did lie, so I guess they didn't bother. Actually, this was one of the selling points we used. We would tell the people that we're not going to send someone out to their home and do a physical. Just pay us the premium, and you're set. Easy peasy, Japanesey.

I was good at selling the policies because I'm pretty good at bullshitting people. Honestly, it would bother me when I knew that some of these people could get better insurance from other companies if only they researched rather than called our number because they recognized Alex Trebeck. People are generally lazy and apathetic, and we offered a pretty easy solution. Just call us, and within 24 hours you can have a policy. But, I knew that it wasn't my job to tell these people they had other options (I did tell a few people). It was my job to offer false sympathy, empathy, guilt, and various other techniques to get them a policy and send back their first payment.

There was a side to all this that did wear down on me. I'm not sure if other people were bothered by it, but it always got to me. I was working here around the time my Mom passed away, and I was a wreck. The last thing you want to think about when you lose someone dear to you is death. However, at my position, death was always in every conversation. Some people would call having just lost a parent or a spouse, and since they were left in a financial bind due to the passing, they wanted to get some type of coverage for themselves and not "be a burden" to their families or loved ones. I put "be a burden" in quotations because on each call we said that phrase numerous times. In an effort to make people "feel comfortable" with their decision, we would coddle them and make them feel good about getting ripped off.

Anyway, getting back to where I was in the story, the people that were still bearing the wounds of grief were the worst for me to deal with. As I said, just losing my Mom just weeks before, my own wounds were fresh. Here I was trying to convince people that our policies were the best thing since sliced bread when I could barely functions some days due to my own grief. There was one woman in particular that lost her husband after a lengthy battle with cancer. She told me the story of Frank's life...how he was a decorated soldier in 'Nam, how he was a great provider, his musical taste, everything. It struck me halfway through the conversation that she just wanted to talk about her husband whom she missed so dearly. I wasn't about to just hurry her along and get on with my pitch. I didn't feel that was the way to deal with people. I would listen. And, dammit, I think that's what most people dealing with a loss want anyway. Too many people, however good intentioned, give advice when confronted with a loss. You know what I mean. People will tell you how long you should grieve, when you should go and pack up belongings, when to seek out additional help, and all that.

The trouble is that grief is a very personal and solitary journey. No one can tell anyone else how they should react to a loss. No one could convince me that you should do anything but listen. Offer words of comfort, but never offer any advice. Frankly, most other people will be all to happy to offer their advice (when they haven't even experienced the same type of loss as the person they are offering advice to). So, the best thing I can say is listen to someone who is suffering and in pain. Or, just sit with them. You'll do a lot more good that way.

My employment ended with Col Penn rather abruptly over some issues I'm really not at liberty to discuss here. Suffice it to say that it was not due to my numbers, as I always did a excellent job on the policies I sent out. It's not that I hated my time at Col Penn. It was that I didn't like the person it was making me become. Slowly, they were ebbing away any compassion you had and replacing it with false sincerity. I met some great people in my short time there, and have no regrets about leaving Comcast to go there. I do wish that things were handled better by everyone involved, but life is a journey that makes little to no sense anyway. John Lennon once said, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." I believe that whole heartedly.

Up next, my time with a media giant, Comcast.

Pisces Fish

"Because I'm a Pisces fish and the river runs through my soul..."

I;ve been getting into George Harrison's music a lot more over the course of the past year or so. I think I really got into his music around the time of my Mom's passing. I always admired George's philosophies, and moreso how he carried himself. As part of the most influential band in the history of rock music, the way he secluded himself from the world and became a more spiritual man rather than grasping onto the spotlight...well, it always made me like the guy more.

I'll admit, I do like seeing Paul McCartney perform, but he'll never retire. I think he still puts out some quality music, but maybe he should just fade away rather than grasp at what's left of his fame. Well, as long as he doesn't do another "Ebony and Ivory", I think I can deal with Paul sticking around for the time being.

But, getting back to George, he was always the quiet one. While John was doing "bagism", George stood back quietly and let his music do his talking. And, it is through his music that you can feel comfort.

His 3 LP magnum opus, "All Things Must Pass" is such an inspiration. After the Beatles broke up, he was left with a wealth of material that the Fab Four passed over in favor of other tracks. Nearly every song on the album is either about love or looking outward to a higher power or trying to understand your place in the world. To me, life is a journey where you try and figure it all out. You need to know why you're here and what it is that you are trying to accomplish. To think of life as a sad, lonely journey toward death is so nihilistic. There has to be a meaning behind the struggles we endure. There needs to be a reason for the strife. There has to be a reason for the joy and the happiness. If there is not, then why are we here?

It's this internal struggle that dominates my thoughts. There was a time in my life when there was no question in my mind that God was real. If you questioned my faith, I would undeniably say that God was in control of all things. I would tell you that there is a plan that he has for us all. I would have told you that there is a mansion awaiting us on a street paved with gold.

But, after life has beaten you down through no fault of your own, and you see the world...this tepid cesspool for what it is, how can you be so sure that God is in control of all things? Why would God allow my Mom to suffer for the final month of her life when she steadfastly loved Him and dedicated her life to Him> Why would God make anyone suffer? If God is in control of all things, then why in the hell do people get caught in the crossfire of gang wars? Why do people suffer with AIDS, cancer, or any other number of diseases? Why do people lose loved ones long before their time?

I can not offer any answers to these questions because I don't know, and I never will. I often lie awake wondering why it all matters? Why all these struggles of just trying to get by in life. I've never harmed anyone in my life. I haven't robbed anyone...I don't make it a habit to lie...I certainly haven't killed anyone. By all accounts, I'm a pretty damn good guy...but, when my last breath is drawn, what the hell did any of it mean?

Which (kind of) brings me back to George Harrison and why I fell into his music and his philosophies. He spent his life in private and through his music trying to figure out just what this life was all about. Here was a guy who made millions by his 30's, and he was still doing music. It was through this music that he questioned not only his existence, but all of ours. He wanted to find out the answer...and maybe now that he's passed on he has found the answers.

Life has to mean more than just simply gliding by and biding your time until death comes to your door. This...it just has to mean something. If not, then why in the hell are we here anyway?

Divine Intervention

It's been a week since Marion was in the hospital. I'm happy to report that since that night, Marion has steadily been feeling better, gaining strength, and is in good spirits. I guess it could be considered a good thing that I haven't written to my blog during that time.

Tomorrow, Marion (as well as my Dad and myself) will be going to the Cooper Cancer Institute in order to get checked out and presumably to have treatments (or at least some type of plan worked out). Now, taken how the system works, things may be delayed once more. I am hopeful that once they see the size of the tumor, they take things seriously and move things along. I researched different options and plans, and the best option is the NJ CEED program. I spoke briefly about it in previous posts. Through this program, Marion will be able to get Medicare coverage (thanks LBJ and Clinton). Once the hospitals know she's covered, they'll be better prepared to help out. Sadly, that's the state of our American Health Care industry. And, yes, my friends, it is an industry.

On a different note, I wanted to talk about the recent school board shooting that could have turned into a blood bath in Florida earlier this week. When I watched the video of it earlier, I got chills. I got chills not only because the footage was, well, rather chilling. I got chills because after seeing Troy Duke fire as many as 14 shots from 15 feet away, I was convinced that there had to be some higher power at work. Whether that is God or Buddah is up for you and your own belief system to decide. But, I felt like Jules Winfield from Pulp Fiction after watching the video.

Simply put, it was as if you were watching a miracle take place.

Here's the video of Jules Winfield's Divine Intervention: (be warned: graphic language and violence).

"Wrong, wrong. The s**t doesn't just happen."

So, whatever it was that happened in Florida earlier this week, maybe it was God sending his angels down to stop the bullets, as John Travolta's character said. Whatever it was, it was amazing. Deciphering what the moral of this story rests with you, and you alone.

It's been a little while since Marion's been released from the hospital, and I've had some time to reflect on things. I love her so much, and I think it's a shame that it takes stuff like this to realize just how much you do appreciate and love someone and all they do. It's always easy to think there's a tomorrow, and that all the things you want to do you'll have a chance to do them. The thing is life likes to throw curveballs at you from time to time. Sometimes you can swing and hit a homerun. But, sometimes you swing and miss.

Cancer at any stage is devastating, I think. Facing the possibility of Stage II or III cancer is an awful feeling. I'm hoping for the best, and within the week we'll know for sure. But, what Marion needs right now is a treatment plan, not another trip to the hospital to stabilize her. She needs a prognosis and something to hope for. She needs a goal to reach for.

I hate coddling her because I know she's capable of doing things...or she was. I don't mind doing things for her at all. I cooked, washed the dishes, and went to the store today. I just love her and want her to get better. I don't think laying in bed all the time or shuffling to the kitchen is good for anyone's psyche. If you have everyone doing everything for you, you start to believe that you can't do anything. Hence, that's the issue here. While I firmly believe that she is able to do things, I can not risk her starting to bleed again.

It was a close call, I guess. After I left the hospital, her blood pressure like 60/40...which is close to coma or worse. Thank God for the staff at the hospital. Her hemoglobin count was as low as 6.5 which is classified as critical. I think it's just hitting me now just how bad things were. You kind of just go around in a daze just trying to do things because you want to stay busy and you don't want to think of the horrible shit you've just gone through. I think that's human nature in a way.

Everytime she goes to the bathroom, I'm there making sure there's no blood. So far, it's been okay. There hasn't been so much as a drop. Friday we'll be getting her checked out at the Cooper Cancer Institute, and I hope that the treatments start soon thereafter.

I love her...

Harvest Moon

When Marion I and I went to Wildwood this past summer to see Drop Dead Sexy play at Flip Flopz, we left during the 3rd set to enjoy a nice stroll along the beach. The Irish bar across the way had a guy strumming and singing his acoustic guitar singing Neil Young's "Harvest Moon". I looked at her and silently said to myself, this is my song to you. She commented she liked it as we walked toward the beach. Even better.

The part of the song that gets me right now is the part, "I wanna see you dance again". Marion loves to dance (as anyone at the Pennant East can attest). Overall, this is a great song...it really is poetry.

Melodramatic much?

I'm thinking my last post was a bit on the melodramatic side. Granted, that was after 6 or 7 hours sitting (impatiently) in an ER, but still...I came off a bit melodramatic in a way. That's not to say that isn't how I felt at the time, but that my emotions were full tilt.

I am an emotional guy. I hide it pretty well, but I cried the 1st time I watch Titanic. When Rose tried calling out to Jack and he sunk to the bottom of the Atlantic, I cried like a baby right in the theater. Maybe I shouldn't admit that, but it's a good example that sometimes the slightest thing can set me off.

As far as Marion's condition goes, I think she should be okay for the next week. I've been hovering around her since her release and I'm thinking I'll drive her crazy if I ask her if she's okay one more time. She's doing really well considering just how much blood she must have lost during yesterday's ordeal. I don't know how she does it, but she is doing so well. I'm thinking her body just wants a much needed rest, and her body is pretty much telling her to cool it.

I wrote previously that I didn't want her to stop doing what she was doing before. I didn't want her to feel defeated by this thing, this cancer. But, the harsh realization is that she does have to stop pushing herself so damned hard. She's a tough bird, and mentally she's real tough, but she's as stubborn as a two dollar steak. I have to completely takeover doing the cooking (which I honestly don't mind), cleaning (which I DO mind), and everything else.

Another story I want to relay is that the other day she asked me to up her life insurance policy. That killed me. I looked at her and told her not to start thinking that way...ever. Get those defeatist thoughts out of your mind...that things aren't that bad as of yet. And, then yesterday happens. I don't know, but it's just hard. It's so hard to even think that she's sick with this disease. I honestly believe that she can beat this, but we need to know what she's up against. As of right now, without even the staging of the cancer, it makes it hard to say things like, "You'll be okay". Will she? I've looked into the 5 year survival rates of Stage II and III cervical cancers...it's a significant difference in prognosis.

As far as why she's been bleeding the way she has, apparently the tumor in the cervix is corroding the wall of the vagina (another reason why I believe it's stage III). She needs treatment...and my hope is the 17th comes very quickly. Hours seems like days, and days seem like weeks.

I'll leave you with a song that describes how I feel about Marion - Billy Joel's "You're My Home".

Scared

Marion was admitted to the hospital last night and is in need of a blood transfusion. She was bleeding heavily and seemingly lost a lot of blood. I've never seen her like that, and I'm scared...not only of the now, but what's to come. She lost consciousness for maybe 10 seconds before I could bring her around again.

I have never felt so helpless or alone.

Church, a ride with a pastor, and various nonsense.

Most times I like to think publicly I put on a good front. Maybe I shouldn't, but the Wawa checkout girl really doesn't want to know what crap you're going through. Neither does the waitress or most anyone else out there. Truthfully, I don't want to know what crap they're going through anyway, so it all works out in this neat, little apathetic package.

I went to church today, and I'm not sure why. Going there was just a bad idea. Marion wanted to go, so I think I was there in mind, but not "spirit". This isn't a knock against the church in question as I feel that they are helpful in their own way. I just don't like the new worship songs, or the woman who is seemingly the centerpiece of the worship team. She seems like a pretty songbird that is trying desperately to get attention...as Shakespeare said, "filled with sound and fury, signifying nothing."

It also bugs me that they make you stand for 30 minutes while a seemingly endless parade of repetitious lyrics go blindingly by at the speed of light. Maybe I'm just nitpicking.

But, again, I feel they do a good job with the outreach part of the church. And, I think most of the people I met do care. But, overall, for me, it was a shallow display.

I just can not get out of the thinking that here I am "worshiping" a God that has allowed these bad things to happen. I'm not specifically zeroing in on just my personal issues at this point. God allows evil and suffering to happen all the time. This evil in the world, along with the suffering makes it hard for me to reconcile worshiping Him.

The truth of the matter is I'm going through a tough patch, and will be until I know for sure how Marion will be treated, and what exactly the prognosis is. Until then, there is so much uncertainty, and so many variables involved, that I can't be happy. I'm just existing at this point. I put on my mask and play the role of a human being.

After church, my Dad drove us home, and we went with the Pastor of the church. They had a funeral to get to, and it was on the way. The Pastor and Marion spoke about her condition. He seemed to have good advise, but there was a general feeling that annoyed me about the basis of his beliefs. Basically, and without going into too much detail, he said there are Biblical reasons why people get sick. I tend to think people get sick because bad cells start replicating and imprint a bad code destroying the good cells. Or, people catch a virus. To think (again) that God allows sickness and suffering as a test or trial or a way to allow you to take stock on your life just makes no feasible sense to me.

As you can see, I'm struggling with these ideas and more. My blog thus far has been dominated with these ideas. I just don't know.

Anyway, tomorrow, I have some calls to make so we can get out marriage license and arrange a very inexpensive wedding. To me, getting married was never about the pomp and circumstance that most couples go through. It should be the exchange and vows of love between two people, not between a disinterested crowd of a hundred or so people that will later complain that their roast beef was too cold. I'm going to marry this woman that has given me so much...and, I'm going to do it as soon as I can.

Wedding Ring

I bought my wedding ring today.

There's no one I would rather marry (obviously). On Monday, we'll go to City Hall to fill out our application for our marriage license
.

The 1st Week

It's been about a week since Marion was diagnosed with cervical cancer. It's been a frustrating mix of rejections and dead ends. Both of us are uninsured, and finding coverage for this costly disease is heartbreaking...utterly heartbreaking. There's so many levels of red tape and governmental bureaucracy that it would make your head spin.

While I'm not one to go into a political debate about why public health reform is a good or a bad thing, I will say that having some type of option would be a wonderful gift. It would be a gift of both hope and life. But, all that said, I believe we have found an option for us to get the coverage that she so desperately needs.

President Bill Clinton signed into law the National Breast and Cervical Cancer Early Detection Act of 2000 which gives Medicaid benefits to women who are under the age of 65 and who are uninsured or underinsured. This program will screen eligible women and treat them if they are found to have cancer (either breast or cervical cancer). The HUGE and very important issue is that you MUST get screened at one of the state approved facilities for you to get the coverage you need. What this amounts to is a Catch-22 if you happen to get diagnosed elsewhere.

In New Jersey, there is specifically a program called the Cancer Education and Early Detection Program (or CEED). Again, you must adhere to going through a state approved facility to get the treatment you need. There are several sites scattered throughout the state which makes things easier for people.

Besides finding out more than I ever wanted to know about cervical cancer and how to finance the treatments, this week has been very trying to say the least. I never thought that I would have to be going through this at this time in my life. I'm 34 and Marion is just 41. To be told that your loved one...your right hand, your partner, the reason why you try...has cancer...it's like the world and plans and dreams you made have been sucked away from you in a heartbeat.

Before we knew for sure, I was kind of prepping myself for the bad news. Doing research on her condition before we knew for sure what it was, I had an idea that there was a 70% chance it was cancer. There was that 30% in me that hoped for the best, but I guess last Saturday I started to accept the fact that it was most likely a worse case scenario. However, sitting in that cold, sterile, overtly white exam room...I was still shocked when I heard it. I was probably in shock for the next day. It's hard to even write this now, but it was hard to say, "I love you" to Marion because of the pain it caused me. It took me until later on that night until I could even squeak it out in a sob.

I can only imagine how Marion feels. We talk, and I'm trying my best to be supportive as well. But, I don't want to change things. I don't want her to feel like she isn't able to do things she used to. She's still healthy...despite some nagging pains now and again. Let me clarify what I mean...I don't want to assume doing more than before. In all honesty, I'm pretty lazy and she does a lot. I don't want to start doing more because it would appear that I think she's not able to do what she used to do. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but I want to keep a balance of normalcy when things are far from normal.

As far as God or the topic of spirituality may go. I'm angry with God for this and so many other things. I'm not sure if I can accept the theory that God only gives us which we can handle. My plate has been filled again and again. I have lost friends suddenly. I lost my Mom a little over a year ago. I'm not sure if I can accept this as His way. Of course, so many people will say, "It's not God that did this!" But, God is in charge of all things. I've been told (and read) that He knows how many hairs are on your head. Then why do these things happen? Why do people suffer? How is that God's plan? How can a God that loves you put you through so much pain? Like much about Christianity, it makes little sense to me. To take a person, like Marion, who has already endured so much, and add to her suffering makes me angry with God. Why? Because a God that encourages suffering as a trial or a test doesn't seem like a God filled with love for His creations.

I feel I've written a fair amount, and if you made it this far, I thank you for reading this. If I helped someone with information...well, good. Knowledge is power for sure.

The diagnosis is cancer...

I've been told I should start a blog by a few people here and there. People seem to think I have an interesting point of view. Well, the thing was, I never knew what to write about before now. I mean, I could have written about politics, film, or anything like that. But now, especially now, those things seem so damned trivial.

What this blog will be will document my journey as well as that of Marion's (my fiancee) through the darkened halls of being diagnosed with cancer.

I'm not thinking this will be an easy blog to write, but it seems important to me to write. I have always felt I communicate better through my writing, and maybe this can be of some comfort to those reading it, or maybe some help. I don't know. I just feel I need to write this.

The story begins with Marion. We've been together for almost 15 years through thick and thin. When I think of life, I see no life without her by my side. We have a great relationship built on trust and respect. I do not doubt her love for me at all.

Marion is 41 and in pretty good health. I would have never thought she had cancer. But, really, how do you know when you have cancer? There's no billboard or flashing lights...cancer just is.

She was having some issues with some abnormal bleeding in conjunction with her period. We both assumed it was menopausal because of her age. This idea changed when she bled very badly one day. I walked into the bathroom to the sounds of her screams and saw enough blood for a crime scene. The bleeding had stopped by this time, she seemed okay, but we decided to go to the ER the next day.

Everything seemed fine after the ER visit, and we were referred to a local clinic for followup care. The Dr. on staff at the ER did a brief pelvic exam and said everything looked fine. However, as we would find out, everything did not look fine.

The trouble was precious time was lost between the 8th of October when we went to the hospital, and the 22nd when she was finally seen by someone at the clinic. During that first exam, Marion was told there was something wrong...not to worry, but something (a mass) was there. Samples were taken for a biopsy, and that was that.

She was called a week later that everything was okay. Then, a day after that saying "Uh, no, the test was inconclusive. We need more tissue."

Anyway, I feel this is becoming more detail than I wanted to get into. After the second biopsy, we were told it was cancer. And, our world has changed.

Hearing that this was cancer was like someone punched me in the gut. Literally, my breath was sucked from me. I mean, how do you even comprehend that? The answer is simple. You can not process that at all. Your mind goes blank, and you become a raw nerve of emotion.

That's where we still are. We're waiting to hear from the Dr. about the staging tests to determine how far along this is. We need to know that so we can plan the next course of action. We are trying to move from feeling like hapless victims into proactive people. Marion is doing well with keeping her spirits up. I wish I could say the same. I came downstairs to get a cup of coffee and Christmas music was playing on the radio. It was "All I Want for Christmas is You". I lost it. I quickly went into the bathroom to shied her from the tears that were easily flowing down my face.

I don't honestly believe this is a death sentence. Yet, there is so much we don't know, and that's what's concerning me at this point. Marion is young, strong, and has valuable support.