stevo. the klassy one. they "meet" at last ...

"You've read the books,
You've watched the shows;
What's the best way?
No one knows.

You meditate,
Hyponitzed,
Anything to take it from your mind --
But it won't go.

You're doing all these things?
Out of desperation.
You're going through six degrees?
Of separation.

You're here to drink;
You take a toke.
Watch the past?
Go up in smoke.

You fake a smile; you lie and say,
You're better now than ever,
And your life's ok.
But it's not, no.

You're doing all these things?
Out of desperation.
You're going through six degrees?
Of separation.

First?  You think the worst?
Is a broken heart!
But what's gonna kill you?
Is the second part --

And the third?
Is when your world splits down the middle!

Fourth?  You're gonna think
That you've fixed yourself.
Fifth?  Is when you see them
Out with someone else!

And the sixth?  Is when you admit?
You may have f*cked up a little ..."

-- "Six Degrees of Separation" by The Script.  God bless, 3 is so, so good ...

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It's been awhile ... so coming to you (initially) live from the rear shadow of PennTower, home to one of Kansas City's sleaziest personal injury law firms ... and edited (not even remotely) live from Stevo's couch and/or coffee table ... it's the Stevo Live Blog!

(kazoo voice) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With today's announced / proposed trade of Chiefs CB Marcus Peters to your Los Angeles Rams, there quite frankly is only one source of journalistic integrity I turn to, at times like these.  There's only one man whose opinion I seek out, in moments of alleged crisis like today allegedly is.

Because times like these, call for me to do something I don't believe I've done in pushing a decade, and fire up 810 WHB on the iPhone ... and listen to what "Klassy" Kevin Keitzman has to say, about this announced / proposed deal.

Here we go!

(Pause).  What?  (Pause).  You're godd*mned right I wish they let us drink at our desk ...

--------------------

(Note: all times CT, Friday, February 23, 2018.)
(Also Note: once 810 WHB has the podcast up, I'll try to remember to link it here.)

--------------------

* 2:05 we are live!  For the record, I am listening / typing this while enjoying a Gold Peak Iced Tea and what remains of my Southwest Chicken Salad I grabbed at McDonalds for lunch.

God bless, I wish we could drink at our desk at "company I work for".

Also, nice to see the intro music to "Between the Lines" hasn't changed in at least fifteen years.  #fortunatojunior

* 2:05 shockingly we are live in studio.  No remote from the Tippins Pie aisle at some Price Chopper today!

* 2:06 El De Buen Tono taking credit for knowing about this trade a week ago.  Uuh, Ol' Kev?  So did PFT, Arrowhead Pride, and any other number of assorted reputable outlets.

Also, allow me to state, I love that Kaptain Klassy just assumes his fans only pay attention to him, and no other media outlets.

I mean, this guy's ego, narcissism, and arrogance is so out of control, President Trump is embarrassed for him.

* 2:06 El (Pretendidamente) Deje Caer Mis Pantalones is gloating over what will be Part Dos of his monologue / diatribe, the Yahoo! NCAA report.  On this, I genuinely feel sorry for the dude; it must suck to root for a hoops program so unimportant, they have nobody to bribe to come to campus.

* 2:06 "We start with unexpected news."
*2:06 the very next sentence "This news comes as no surprise to most of us."

I ask this with all sincerity: is it time to debate taking the keys from Krazy Kev?

* 2:07 "Justin Houston is next.  He very quickly will become a cancer on this team."

I'm sure D Clink was thrilled to hear all the "cancer" references Kaptain Klassy dropped in today's monologue.  Way to be sensitive towards your co-host, Ol' Keitz.

* 2:07 "There may not be any suitors for (Houston)."

I'm guessing Men's Wearhouse has a suit or two big enough to fit him (rimshot!)  Get it -- suit or?  Ha!  #baddadjokes

* 2:08 "Do (the Chiefs) trade (Houston), or just flat out cut him and spend his cap money more wisely?"

A question I guarantee you would be asked by Union Broadcasting Management daily regarding our "good friend", if he didn't co-own the damned station he broadcasts from.  #carringtoniswhippingyourass #withoutdanny

* 2:09 "I'm not sure (Peters) knows where he's going."

(Pause).  Yeah, gotta.



It's cool: sing along!

"Do you know where you're going to?
Do you like the things that life is showing you?
Where are you going to?
Do you know?"

I think he knows.

* 2:09 "I'm the guy that was out at training camp last year and was pummeling Andy Reid about (all these players) not being there.  And we heard his responses ... I totally respect (listeners' opposed to this trade) point that the Chiefs will not replace (Peters) with a more physically giften player.  I agree with you ... but I knew we were on to something last year when Andy Reid was getting hot under the collar about players that weren't there."

Since I'm a clueless dolt, does someone have actual audio and/or visual confirmation of this verbal "pummeling" Klueless Keitz delivered to "Fat" Andy last June?  (He stressed it was delivered at the VOLUNTARY mini-camp held at Arrowhead every year after the draft, not in St. Joe.)

Also, does anyone believe the (allegedly) "Chico Lind of Sports Broadcasting in Kansas City" does his own dirty work and/or interviewing?  Come on.  We all know he farmed that out to whoever replaced The Drake back in the day.

Although I pray -- and I mean pray -- that "Fat" Andy dropped a King Carl like "who we talkin' to here?" blast, just for old time's sake.

* 2:10 "(Peters) is a quitter.  He quit on his teammates."

I love people who spout off random sh*t as fact with not a single shred of evidence to back up and/or support said random sh*t.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Well of course I love me some me!

* 2:10 "(Peters) is an inarticulate demonstrator.  And (that) is being kind.  He cannot explain to anybody what he's doing; he just does it."

(Deep Breath.)

(Very Deep Breath.)

Back in 2000, when Kev was destroying Don Fortunato with his "Kat P*ss on the Kar Seat" rumors, he constantly referred to Royals CF Carlos Beltran as a "loafer".  Now, I'm fairly certain he didn't mean to refer to Mr. Beltran as a comfortable shoe.  We all know what "loafer" means when referenced to a person of Hispanic descent.

Folks?  Today?  2018 Krazy Keitz handed his beer to 2000 Krappy Keitz and simply said "hold my beer".

I swear, the ONLY thing missing in this section of the monologue is some background mus -- (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Sure!  What the hell!  I'll pipe the music in as you re-read inKlusive Kev's comment of Mr. Peters' ability to "articulate" himself:



(Pause).  Too obvious? *

I mean, for God's sake, can you possibly make a more racist statement without it actually being technically racist than what "K"KK just said?

(*: spare me the hate mail / comments over the above embedded clip.  The South had one thing right: government governs best, when it governs least.)

* 2:13 "This is three moves in ten months that are basically unprecedented here in Kansas City."

The three moves he meant were trading up for Patrick Mahomes "Of The Chiefs", trading Sir Alex Smith, and now trading Marcus Peters.

* 2:14 "We will no longer take any more calls on Andy Reid being conservative."

Uuh ... there's people in our town who think he's conservative?

* 2:14 "(The Chiefs) just made Justin Houston really, really angry."

I guess that beats hangry.  Because few if any things suck worse in life than being hangry.

* 2:15 "I'm going to tell you right now, Justin Houston is p*ssed.  (Yes, he actually said p*ssed.  Your all-around Kwality Family Man everyone!!!!!!!!)  Trust me, he is p*ssed!"

As someone far, far ... worse at spelling, than I am, once noted: it's better to be p*ssed off, than p*ssed on.  (Pause).  No wonder Jasson said that!  #multipledoubleconsonants

* 2:16 "If you thought you were p*ssed over that Titans playoff game?  I guarantee you, you weren't as angry as Andy Reid.  Because I guarantee you he left that field determined to blow this up!"

I need a few more hours (if not days) to come back to this ... but I will spoil any future commentary by me, by noting that "Fat" Andy and I share a 100% on track mindset when it comes to 2018 ... and 2019 if need be: blow this underachieving roster up down through to its foundation.

* 2:17 hey, we have a D Clink breath of (sane) air!  "Well, this certainly is a gamble.  All of these moves are gambles."

* 2:17 more D Clink: "Losing (the playoff game) in that fashion has certainly created a maelstrom for (the Chiefs)."

I guarantee you Klueless Keitz has no idea what "maelstrom" means.  Although in his defense ... I didn't either.

* 2:18 D Clink Tres: "Houston's a difficult player to read.  He doesn't talk very often."

Wait -- I thought Konfident Kev just told us to "trust him", that Mr. Houston is "very angry" today, and that he's about to become the latest assault on the word cancer for this franchise?  I'm confused.  And I'm sober.  (Or at my residual .06.)  Which really isn't good.

* 2:19 and we're back to Kommentator Kev: "You watch that game against the Titans and you watch (Houston) on your screen and you say "my God, what is he doing?  He's just playing patty cake here!"

Somehow, I'm guessing "I'm just playing patty kake here!" is not the (alleged) explanation for that (alleged) night eighteen years ago that (alleged) Ol' Kheater offered up to (allegedly) the brave PV Kop that happened upon the (alleged) scene.

* 2:19 "Look, I believe opinions are never wrong."

(Pause).  Yeah.  Gotta.



* 2:20 "(Peters) is lazy.  He knew he could recover from a play or two off and make something spectacular (happen)."

If Ol' Krazy had said "loafer" instead of "lazy", I would have keeled over dead.

* 2:21 "I didn't like (Peters) either.  I don't like people who can't articulate why they take a radical stance on something."

First of all, how is protesting something you disagree with a "radical stance on something"?  We ALL protest what we oppose, in our own ways!  I mean kome on Kev -- you made your entire career based on a taking a "radical stance on something" -- The Walkout!

And for the love of all things holy "K"KK -- you didn't articulate your end game with that protest!  You didn't even try to!

Your ENTIRE end-game agenda with that "radical stance on something" was to grab the reigns for the next twenty years as KC's dominant drive time host!

(And to your credit, you achieved said goal.  For better or for worse, you did it.)

2:22 D Clink responds: "(Peters) is an impossible person to read, because he doesn't articulate his feelings either way."

Come on Klink -- you're better than falling into Keitz' race baiting trap.

2:22 Keitz Komments: "Peters had too much influence with this team, and he (was a) cancer.  They lost DJ, they lost Berry, and what happened?  The cancer spread on this team."

(the voice of reason voice) You cannot reason with people that don't possess any reason.

2:22 "Four former people here with Marcus Peters wanted no part of him."

The four people Kancer Kalling Kev singled out are Chris Ballard (Colts GM), John Dorsey (Browns GM), Doug Pederson (Eagles HC), and Matt Nagy (Bears HC).

So let's examine this one rationally, by using some kommon sense, if that is possible.  Why, pray tell, would John Dorsey hypothetically trade #4 overall plus a key Day Two pick for a corner that (a) won't resign with the team, so he's gone in two years and (b) doesn't mean the difference between a wild card berth or worthless season?  I'd submit that if Mr. Dorsey had traded #4 and other considerations for Marcus Peters, he should be fired on the spot, because he's too clueless (or is that klueless?) to run a team.

And Mr. Dorsey may be a lot of things, but he ain't a f*cking idiot.

Doug Pederson?  What, pray tell, does Marcus Peters add to arguably the NFL's best secondary?  How is Marcus Peters the difference between, say, beating the crap out of your opponent in a title game by thirty plus, then beating arguably the greatest dynasty in league history with a backup QB under center?  What does Marcus Peters add?  Plus, Philly already tried adding the "allegedly disgruntled malcontent to put us over the top" routine.  As Philly fan how well Terrell Owens worked out.

Nagy?  What pull does he have?  He hasn't even held a scrimmage yet in his new role!  Plus, do you honestly believe Marcus Peters is the sole missing link between a Bears playoff berth and going 5-11?  I mean come on.  Again -- if the Bears traded wherever they're at in Round One (I believe it's #8) plus a key Day Two or Day Three pick for Marcus Peters?  Then their GM should not only be fired on the spot, he should probably be chucked head first into the frozen waters of Lake Michigan.

The ONLY one of the four that maybe, possibly makes sense, is Indy ... but even with a healthy Andrew Luck, do you REALLY think Marcus Peters is the difference between 8-8 (which is the floor with Luck under center, as history has shown) and the 10-6 needed now to win the AFC South?  And even if he is, do you REALLY think Marcus Peters is resigning in Indy eighteen months from now?

If you believe that?

I've got some ocean front property in Arizona for sale.

And you can have the godd*mned Golden Gate for free.  Sh*t, it's Arizona -- I'll throw the London Bridge in to boot.

* 2:23 "You know I'm someone with real strong opinions.  I've evolved into a real strong opinion maker."

That's how "Not Karrington" Keitz chose to close the Chiefs portion of his monologue.

I ... I got nothing, to rebut the kraziness that is that statement above.

--------------------

All kidding aside ... Krazy Kev and I agree on one thing: today was a very, very good day for the Kansas City Chiefs.

And look it, in case you think I'm some kind of "krackpot" -- search my timeline on Facebook, Twitter, or social media.  I wear (wore?) a Marcus Peters jersey to home games the last two years.  Ditto the road games I've attended (Houston, Indy, Dallas) over those two years.

I irrationally love Marcus Peters.

But this is ...

Today was the breakup that was inevitable.

And all of this offseason so far, has been inevitable from the moment that khicken sh*t officiating crew headed by Jeff Sh*tlette, disavowed Marcus Peters' strip of Derrick Henry that Derrick Johnson returned to the end zone, just inside the two minute warning of the single most indefensible Chiefs postseason loss of my lifetime.  (Note: I'm 41.)

Because leaving that stadium, I reached my Rage Against the Machine Memorial "F*ck It -- Cut The Cord!" moment.

I argue the single worst thing you can do in sports, is hold onto an underachieving core.  That is what I think "Fat" Andy realized leaving the field after that indefensible defeat to the Titans.  It's why I think "Bulldog" Bob Sutton is returning -- "Fat" Andy knew it wasn't the scheme.  Ditto why he promoted from within to replace Matt Nagy -- it isn't the scheme.

It's the personnel.

And that's the single biggest thing to celebrate today, Chiefs fans.

This isn't 1998.  We're not ignoring the Captain Oats in the room.

This isn't 2006.  We're not ignoring the Princess Sparkles in the room.

This is 2018.  We're not bringing back a core of a team that peaked.

We're retooling on the fly, in a division still very, very wide open for the Chiefs to win yet again.

There isn't a single move the Chiefs have made so far, that shifts the balance of power in the AFC West, uuh, west.

If anything, every move made so far?

Consolidates the seat of power in the division?

Squarely in the heart of this nation.

--------------------

More to come ... hopefully sooner rather than later.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Well I know that this is the first post since the playoff defeat!  My official spiritual adviser, the right Reverend Al K. Hall, told me to take a six week break! ...

"the family" funeral part ocho: the final goodbyes

“Someday?  Out of the blue?

In a crowded street, or a deserted square?

I’ll turn and I’ll see you,

As if our love were new –

Someday?  We can start again,

Someday soon …

I still believe.

I still put faith in us.

We had it all,

And watched it slip away.

Where are we now?

Not where we want to be.

Those hot afternoons?

Still follow me.

Someday?  Out of the blue?

Maybe years from now,

Or tomorrow night.

I’ll turn and I’ll see you,

As if we always knew,

Someday?  We would live again,

Someday soon …”

-- “Someday Out Of the Blue” by Sir Elton John.

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(editors note 8/20 9:13pm: part siete is delayed.  I wound up with 71 questions, I'm trying to pare down to 26 ... because Question Twenty Seven, is in this post.  I hope to have it up soon ... but I didn't want to delay this one, at the expense of what should have been a previous one.  I swear to God, it makes sense to me.)

--------------------

To The Ex:

I am so damned sorry I failed you.

I should have stood my ground.  I should have kept fighting against Josh, against what I, and so many of your friends, saw him to be … and what, if I am to believe the reports from afar, you’ve finally figured out.

I am sorry, I gave up.  I am sorry, I didn’t keep trying.  You – and everyone reading this – have no idea how much I blame myself, for what has happened to you, and with us.

Please know, when you are ready to seek the help you need, there will be no judgment on my part, or anyone else’s.  We just want “our girl” back.  You have so many people who blindly love you, blindly care about you, blindly support you and just want the best for you.  I wish I could articulate how many times “man, it’s not the same without Katie here” has been said by so many people poolside this summer.

When you’re ready to talk, I’ll meet you anywhere, anytime, anyplace, with no preconditions, with no requirements.  I just want the best for you – now, and then, and always.

But if our “moment” before your wedding is our final goodbye?  Then your conscience should be clear.  Mine never will be, but yours should be.  If that was our last day, our last hurrah?  Then at least we went out acceptably.

You’ll always be my dashboard drummer.  Your little footprints?  Will always be on my window. 

You’ll always be the one, I just can’t forget.

I suppose my final comment would be this:

“And it seems to me,

You lived your life,

Like a candle in the wind.

Never knowing

Who to cling to,

When the rain set in.

And I would have liked

To have loved you,

But I was just a kid.

Your candle?

Burned out long before,

Your legend ever (will) …”

--------------------

To The Champ and to The Chica:

(And ultimately, to all of you reading this:)

All I ask of all of you seeing this – and of the two of you – is to simply compare Dusty and Kellie’s words, to their actions, and you decide which is the truth, and which is the lie.

* Dustin claims this was about nothing more than a bowling league team.

So take him at his word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  What would you expect he and Kellie’s actions to be, if that was the case?

You’d expect him to own his decision.  You’d expect them to still include me, still be friendly towards me, be kind towards me.  You would reasonably expect that the ONLY thing that would change in our relationship, is the lane we bowled on.

What do you believe – Dustin’s words, or Dustin’s actions?

* Kellie claims she does her best, to always do what is morally right.

So take her at her word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  What would you expect doing what is morally right, to encompass?

You’d assume that when she tells me that I need to talk to Dustin, she’d make Dustin talk to me, right?  You’d assume that she would always tell the truth no matter what, right?  That she’d honor her promises, honor her word, do what she commits to do, correct?  You’d assume that she wouldn’t defend wrong when it occurs, but would condemn it.  You’d assume that she would treat everyone fairly, equally, and decently.

What do you believe – Kellie’s words, or Kellie’s actions?

* They both claim to stand for complete openness and honesty, at all times.

So take them at their word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  What would you expect being open and honest, would entail?

You’d expect them to, at a barest minimum level, to own every decision and choice they make, no?  To defend it, explain it, account for it?  You’d expect them to never fail to give of themselves, what they demand of others, right?  For example, if they demand I allow them to come over and talk, you’d expect them to agree to talk to me, right?  I mean, openness and honesty requires conversation, does it not?

And you would expect, if they demand honesty, that they’d always tell the truth.  That promises wouldn’t be broken, that lies wouldn’t be told and/or tolerated and/or defended?  That every single action and comment undertaken and made, would be explained, accounted for, and answered for, when an explanation, accounting, or answer is asked for, right?

What do you believe – Dusty and Kellie’s words, or Dusty and Kellie’s actions?

* They both claim to stand for tolerance, inclusion, and acceptance of all.

So take them at their word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  What would you expect tolerance and inclusion and acceptance to include?

At a barest minimum level, it would mean never intentionally excluding someone, right?  It would mean never intentionally snubbing or leaving someone out, right?  It would mean never blacklisting someone because of who they are friends with, correct?

It would mean treating others with respect, and kindness, and decency at all times, would it not?

What do you believe – Dusty and Kellie’s words, or Dusty and Kellie’s actions?

* They both claim that they have done nothing wrong, and nothing to be explained, accounted for, or defended – let alone, apologized for.

So take them at their word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  What would you expect above-board transparency to be?

You’d never expect Dusty’s teammate to openly confront him, and tell him he was wrong in everything he did to me, as Cam did in our presence near the end of our final season as leaguemates, right?  You’d be stunned if Kellie’s teammate notes to our faces that “if Dusty had done this to me, I’d have bitch slapped him”, as Ammie did a week before “The Lies of Lew’s” went down, right?  

You would never in a thousand years have leaguemates, teammates, and friends asking out loud why they weren’t invited to any of Kellie’s showers for Miles, let alone long-time friends of all of us asking the same question, right?

Because they’d have been nothing but open and honest, transparent, fair and reasonable, tolerant and accepting, and truthful and kind, every day for the last two years, right?

What do you believe – Dusty and Kellie’s words, or Dusty and Kellie’s actions?

* "The Post" that angered them so much, the one I put up last May, in which I detailed maybe 40% of all they’ve done, using their quotes, their actions, their decisions, to explain this fight from my perspective.

I was told by Dustin – quite angrily, I might add – that that post?  Made Kellie cry.

So take him at his word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.  And ask yourself, why did that post, make Kellie cry?

Did she cry because she was embarrassed at her actions?  (Nope.)  Did she cry because she realized how hateful, how disrespectful, how intolerant, how unkind, how unfriendly, she and her husband had been towards me, and so many of you?  (Nope.)  Did she cry because she was disgusted with herself, and immediately act on those tears by reaching out to me, apologizing to me, attempting to make things right between us?  (Nope.)

Or did she cry, because all of you finally got to see who she really is, and that’s what upset her?  Not the lies she and Dusty spun to you and anyone who would listen, but the truth about this fight, and what utterly repulsive people they have become -- is that what made her cry?  (Bango!)

Again, what do you believe, their words … or their (lack of) actions?

* And for this one, I beg you – I demand of you! – please, do not have ANYTHING capable of being spat up in your mouth, when you read it.

Because Kellie, on the night she invited herself over, demanded I do for her on ten minutes notice what she and her husband have refused every request I’ve made to do for me, looked me in the face, as she was lecturing me on how wrong it is to lie (when the only way she could know I lied to her at Lew’s, was if they lied to me first), and said with the utmost of seriousness, that “Steve?  There are three types of people I will never tolerate in my life: a liar, a thief, or a cheater.”

(Hang on, I failed to take my own advice.  I need to grab a towel real quick to clean up the upchuck mess on the laptop screen …)

(Hang on, I’m still laughing hysterically.  This might take five minutes.)

“There are three types of people I will never tolerate in my life: a liar, a thief, or a cheater.”

So take Kellie at her word.  Assume that … hang on, this is just too fucking funny, to stop laughing over.  (Stevo composing himself …)  OK.  Let’s try this again.

So take Kellie at her word.  Assume that is a truthfu – sorry.  I swear: this might be the last time I lose it hysterically, even thinking for a second of time, there’s a hint of truth to ANY of that statement …

(Stevo once again composing himself …)

OK, one last time.

So take Kellie at her word.  Assume that is a truthful statement.

Do you believe Kellie’s words … or do you look at who she’s married to, and whose child she has given birth to … and lose it, like I have been for the last six minutes -- let alone the last six years they've been together -- at what an utterly ridiculous lie, that statement is?

--------------------

The bottom line, readers and readettes, is that there is one thing, they cannot control, and that is the truth.

And the truth is?  All I have ever asked them to do, is what Kellie told me to ask them to do: talk.

So, I ask you, my dear readers, friends, and potential enemies after this post goes up – what do you choose to believe, Dusty and Kellie’s words?  Or Dusty and Kellie’s actions?

Have they owned their decisions and choices, or sought to hurt all of us who dared ask them to act with a maturity level we’d demand of a five year old, and simply accept the consequences and the natural outcomes of their actions?

Have they treated you and I fairly, tolerably, respectfully … or have we been shown nothing but contempt, hatred, intolerance, and exclusion?

Have they spoken kindly of me ... or trashed me and disparaged me every chance they get?

Did they take this fight public first ... or did I?  Which one of us sat silent for 206 days?  (And as they damned well know, even “The Voice of Reason” can confirm, I didn’t say one ill word about them, until after that entire season was over.  And they know he can confirm it, because they asked him to … and he did.)

And more to the point: whose decisions, choices, actions, and comments guaranteed this fight was going to happen, and end as it has ... and which side is the one that made every compromise, every concession, every offer of peace, up to and including letting Dusty and Kellie get away with ALL of it, on THEIR terms, at Lew's, nearly 650 days ago?

--------------------

And then, if you're still on the fence?

Ask yourself Question Twenty Seven, left out intentionally from the previous post*:

“If they’ll do this to me, given what they claim I meant to them – if they’ll treat me like they have every day for two plus years, without a shred of guilt, remorse, or regret, let alone disgust?  If they’ll do the things they have to me?

Do you really think they’ll hesitate to do to you, something even worse?”

--------------------

(*: still being edited, at the time of this post's original posting..)

--------------------

If every word Dusty and Kellie said this was about, and what they stand for, is the truth?

Then this is the most epic, pathetic, embarrassing failure of their lives.

Because it means between the two of them, they are so utterly bankrupt of character and courage, they cannot own a bowling league decision.

Let that sink in readers.  If they are telling the truth, then they are the most gutless chicken shit cowards?  To ever draw breath.  Because it means that between them, they have a pair so small, they cannot get out in front of, and own, a bowling league decision!

Again -- what do you believe: their words ... or their actions?  Because in this case, Dusty and Kellie?  You might want to own your actions, over your words, because good God above, even my (nearly) four year old nieces know, that when you leave the room?  You let everyone else know, you're walking out the door.  Do you want all of us to believe, you are so childish, so immature, so pathetically pussified, that you can't manage to do even that?  That, Champ y Chica, is what you demand your supporters accept as Gospel -- that this isn't a fight about right and wrong, but rather, this occurred because you're so wimpy, you can't own a bowling league decision!  If you're telling the truth?  Then that IS the truth!  THAT?  Is what you WANT us to believe?

Good God, Kellie.  You may be a lot of things, but I have NEVER viewed you, as a coward.

In order for your words, and comments, and stated intentions to be the truth?  You have to be more gutless than Wimpy.  Who'd happily pay you on Tuesday, for a hamburger today.  And today is Wednesday, last time I checked.

THAT?  Is what you want to be remembered for?

Jesus God above, for once in your life, will you open your eyes and see reality?

Either you are the most gutless chicken shit coward to ever draw breath ... or you're the biggest liar who cannot acknowledge being a liar, to ever draw breath.

If what you have stated is the truth?

You're one or the other.

I'll be damned if I will tolerate either, in MY life, at this point, or ever for that matter.

--------------------

But if every action of Dusty and Kellie is the truth?

Then this is the most unforgivable thing, anyone has ever done to me.

And considering Dusty’s lies and theft destroyed my financial existence (to say nothing of his, and Clark's, and (possibly) his folks, and (probably) The Chica, and (definitely) anyone else he scammed into Stubbs) for the better part of a year?  That’s saying something.

Because I could forgive the lies and theft at Stubbs.  At least I could understand that.

But Dustin?  You turning on me, and attempting to turn our friends – and my friends – against me, for what you caused my life to become for a spell?

That?  I cannot forgive.  Not absent one helluva humble apology, and one (or more) credible conversations in which you own this failure of yours, you own these mistakes of yours, and you take the necessary first steps to rebuild what you have intentionally destroyed.

Because either your words are the truth?

Or your actions are.

And anyone with an IQ above that of a corpse at this point, knows that it’s actions, not words, that reveal what the truth, really is.

--------------------

I choose to begin the close with this:

I do not believe in coincidence.

I wanted this post to go up on August 20th, for a very specific reason.

A very specific, tragic, (arguably) life-altering reason, for me.

Ten years ago today, one of my three or four best friends growing up, passed away.  Today, he would have turned 36.  He died in one car vehicular accident on his birthday – Friday, August 20, 2004.  Only those of us who knew him best, know it was no accident.

I went to his grave tonight, and I shed a few tears.  And by a few, I mean I was “that guy”, who lost it uncontrollably for no particular reason, on a 98 degree day at a tombstone, in central Shawnee, pushing 6pm, on a random Wednesday in late August.

I chose the overall theme I did, for this series of posts (“Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”), because it just perfectly fits.  Because I’ve never known anyone in my life who reminds me more of James, than Dusty did.

They never met.  Or I should say, if they ever did, I never knew about it. 

They almost did; James’ death prevented a meeting by a few days.  But they never met as far as I know.  If they had?  I think they’d have been amongst the best of friends … because God above, were they the same person.

And again, from the "I don't believe in coincidence" file -- while Dusty and I were friends before James' passing, I'd argue our friendship truly grew from "yeah, decent tailgating buddy, I'd have a beer with him after work" to "amongst the best of friends" the day after James' funeral and burial -- at the Projekt Revolution concert.

God gives ... and God takes away.

And now, God has taken away again.

For the first time in my life, I question how He can ever replace.

------------------

From the outside, each of them had many friends of mine questioning what the fuck I ever saw in either of them, worth the pain they tended to cause.  One friend in particular, who quite frankly has never truly been able to stand either James or Dusty -- and in many regards, ever truly grasp me, for what it's worth, although he gets me more, than most do.

------------------

And from the outside, I get it.  We all know people that are friends -- or more -- that we look at and think "what the hell?"  Hell, my brother jokes routinely that "I'm proof looks don't matter to scoring (the hottest girl in the room)!"  

Because viewing this from the inside?  

I just feel sorry.  And embarrassed.  Not just for what "The Family" has become, but for all of you who missed out, on what greatness was -- and you will never convince me, this friendship was anything, less than the greatest any of us that were a part of it, will ever experience.

Even in hindsight? 

I wouldn’t have missed it?

For the world.

--------------------

And that’s what I’ll miss the most of all about “The Family”, is the “inside baseball” part of what we were.  The things that only we’d get, only we’d find funny, only mattered to us.

There’ll never be another “boasheao” reveal at a random "happy hour" at her folks house, after a ten hour drive to get there.  There’ll never be another “There!  It’s done!  Are you (bleeping!) happy now!” moment of frustration over a grill.  There’ll never be another tailgate, another concert, another shoot the sh*t on the deck afternoon with a case of Miller Lite and a tobacco-like substance. 

There’s never be another … anything.

I’ll never meet Lil’ Champ, or any other Lil’ Champs or Chicas to come.  You all have no idea how much that pains me.  I will never meet Miles.  That seemed unthinkable three years ago; that seems perfectly reasonable today.

I’ll never experience the “big moments” in life ever again with any of them, and they never will with me.  Our last “moment” will be The Ex’s wedding to Josh, a moment that if The Champ, the Chica, and Stevo are being honest, none of us wanted to be at, because none of us wanted it to happen.

Only we were there, because The Ex asked us to be, and whatever some of our objections were (I refuse to speak for Dusty and Kellie on this one … although I’m guessing, they actually agree with me for once)?  If our friend asked us to be there for a big moment in life?  We were there, even if it broke us ... in some way, shape or form.

So let me bring this close, to an, uuh, "close", by noting the moment, the foundation of "The Family", saw the cracks first appear ... and it's been all rubble and ruin from there.

--------------------

Going to your hometown reception, Kellie, broke me and Katie financially.  We simply didn’t have the money to go.  I gave up my actual full season ticket to the Chiefs for 2011, to make it happen; I shifted my plan to a partial season, and gambled I’d manage to work my way into a seat the rest of the time.  

That?  Is what you meant to me.  

Katie also gave stuff up to be there; as she can confirm, we literally spent a day on The Deck mapping out which of us would pay for what for the other, to make that trip happen.  Hell, we spent part of that day combing through our emails for free giveaway "sign up and get gift card" emails, to make things work out.

That?  Is what you meant to us.

That?  Is what you meant to me.

That?  Is what you, Chica, spent every day that week bitching at us about, that you had to go three minutes out of your way, to pick us up at the cheaper hotel we could afford, instead of the one closer to your folks house, that we couldn’t. 

(Once again, and defending Dusty at this point is like spending a night in sobriety, but once again, Dusty didn't say a word.  I suspect, because just like with last Easter Sunday, he knew.  So there's your "inside baseball" moment for why I love the guy -- and James before him -- so damned much: he may be the most arrogant, selfish prick in the room ... but he had your back, if you were a true friend.

You all have no idea, how much it pains me to realize, Dusty doesn't have anyone's back nowadays, other than his own.  Twelve years, flushed down the proverbial crapper, because a twelve minute conversation, is asking too much of him, to give of himself.  Again -- believe his words, or believe his actions.  You cannot believe both.)

That, Chica?  Is what you and The Champ never got, never grasped, in any of this.

--------------------

Friendship?  Isn’t about money.  It isn’t about status.  It isn’t about where you lay your head down at night, and it sure as all hell isn’t about how you get to and from where you desire to be.

It isn’t about what you can get OUT of someone.

Friendship?  Is about what someone desires, craves, demands, to GIVE to you, with no questions asked -- because THEY?  Matter more to you, than YOU do.

That?  Is the truth you cannot deny.

And it is a truth, you no longer are capable, of embracing in a credible manner.

And that?  Is why we're probably gone-zo now, for us, probably forever.

Because if you two can’t see what friendship is about nearing the midpoint of your lives?

Then you’ll never get, what friendship is about.

--------------------

“Maybe you’ll get a replacement!

There’s plenty like me to be found.

Mongrels, who ain’t got a penny;

Sniffing for tidbits like you,

On the ground …

So goodbye yellow brick road!

Where the dogs of society howl.

You can’t plant me in your penthouse!

I’m going back to my plough.

Back to the howlin’ old owl in the woods;

Huntin’ the horny back toad.

Oh, I finally decided?  My future lies?

Beyond the yellow brick

Road …”

--------------------

No, you won’t.

And no, there aren’t.

And if Dusty?  If Kellie?  If Katie?  If you’re being honest?

You know I’m telling the truth, in those two statements.

Because those two statements?

Tell the truth, of how I feel about each of you.

--------------------

This?  Is what we had:

And that?  Is what we all apparently have decided, had no value, no meaning, no worth to any of us.

From this point forward, you all can explain why you are incapable of having a simple conversation, that would save a friendship, that all of our friends envied, and everyone who knows us, admired.

Because I'll be damned, if I'm ok with it.

And from this point forward?  You all can explain, what you got out of this, worth having.  You can explain to our friends what the hell you got out of this, that was greater than what you lost.

I truly hope, that whatever the rest of you got from destroying this relationship – and so many other freidnships and relationships, of people who cared for you, and liked you, and considered you as friends, until they saw how you treated me – I truly hope, you think whatever value, gain, worth, and meaning you got from all this, was worth what it cost you.

Because it sure as fuck wasn't worth it, to me ...

"the family" funeral part seis: two days in december

“Yesterday?

You came to lift me up;

As light as straw,

And brittle as a bird.

Today?  I weigh less

Than a shadow on the wall;

Just one more whisper,

Of a voice unheard.

Tomorrow?

Leave the windows open.

As fear grows?

Please hold me in your arms.

Won’t you help me, if you can?

To shake this anger!

I need your gentle hand,

To keep me calm.

Because I never thought I’d lose;

I only thought I’d win!

I never dreamed I’d fear,

This fire beneath my skin …

Things we never said?

Come together.

The hidden truth?

No longer haunting me.

Tonight?  We touched on

The things that were never spoken –

That kind of understanding?

Sets me free.

Because I never thought I’d lose;

I only thought I’d win!

I never dreamed I’d fear,

This fire beneath my skin …”

-- “Last Song” by Elton John.

--------------------

Part Sies: Two Days in December.

With this post?  This series turns personal.  I am sure these will not be posts anyone cares to read, and that's cool.  I am not ending this "my way" for you.  I'm doing it for me.

The final three pieces in this fond farewell, are my take on all that’s happened, my viewpoint on this fight, the questions all this raises in me, and my defense, and explanation, for why I have chosen to handle things as I have, since the second day in December, profiled in this post.

If this is as selfish, arrogant, and inconsiderate as posts come?

I’m simply matching The Champ and The Chica’s level, of selfishness, arrogance, and inconsideration.

--------------------

Sunday, December 2, 2012 dawned as arguably the darkest day in Chiefs history.  Less than twenty four hours earlier, Chiefs LB Jovan Belcher had shot his fiancé, the mother of his child, nine times in their bed, then killed himself at Arrowhead as the police closed in, in front of Chiefs GM Scott Pioli, Chiefs head coach Romeo Crennel (affectionately known on this site as “Coach Baffoon” – a man so incompetent, he can’t even spell buffoon right!), and Chiefs LB coach / defensive coordinator Gary Gibbs.

There was definitely a weird vibe at Arrowhead that day.  The normal party-like atmosphere at the backed-up gates was non-existent.  Even once the gates opened and the tailgating began, there wasn’t the usual jovial mood, at least in Lot G. 

This would ultimately wind up being the last tailgate of my group that Dustin and Kellie would attend.  It’s probably fitting – the last tailgate is overshadowed by a murder / suicide. 

And if you think that’s one helluva coincidence?

Wait until we get to the second day in December.

(I’m telling you people, you give me six more weeks, I will convince you there is NO SUCH THING as coincidence.)

The recap of the day can be read by clicking here.  (For the highly sensitive and/or squeamish, I get into my personal battles with depression and suicidal thoughts, in the last quarter of the post.  Just a FYI for the weak of stomach and/or of heart.) 

What didn’t stand out to me, was the “coincidence” of the song that came on as DJ and Kellie arrived, although I did note it in the recap, and again – there is no such thing as coincidence.

What stood out to me, is that for one brief moment of time, I wasn’t angry anymore.  For 3 ½ months at that point, the rage had been building.  It is my opinion that for 3 ½ straight months, I was shown nothing but intolerance, hatred, and disrespect by the two of them.  That I was treated in a manner by them they wouldn’t tolerate being shown them for two seconds, and I had to endure it every day for 3 ½ months, without a shred of guilt, regret, remorse, or simple embarrassment from Dustin and Kellie.  115 bleeping days of indefensible conduct – conduct so indefensible, so offensive to even their friends, that as Kellie’s friend and teammate noted to me on December 5^th after bowling: “if Dustin had done (all) this to me?  I’d have bitch slapped him.”  Their other teammates and friends there that night, simply nodded in agreement, at that comment.

--------------------

I made the decision that Sunday, to let them get away with it.

Because Sunday, December 2^nd, 2012, provided the answer to the question I’d been asking for nearly 115 days.  What mattered more to me: the friends* I thought Dustin and Kellie were … or the way those two friends had treated me, over those 115 days.

--------------------

(*: I will grant you -- especially in hindsight -- that the idea that either of the two of them were a “friend” at that point, was laugh-out-loud preposterous … but when you’re in the midst of a fight with people you care about, you tend to lose semblance and focus at times.)

--------------------

I spent the next week bouncing questions off of various friends, and ultimately decided, someone had to cave, if this part of The Family could be saved.  And if Dustin and/or Kellie didn’t have the moral conscience a six year old possesses, to own the consequences of their choices?

Then it had to be me, once again, giving them what they demanded, at the expense of what I wanted.

Which I offered to do about a week later, when I noted that it had been four months since either side had invited the other to spend time in their presence “just because”, and I suggested we try to set aside a Friday evening for a happy hour, to try to find our version of détente.

--------------------

Wednesday, December 12^th, they accepted my offer.  And did more than accept – to their credit, they seemed genuinely stunned that it had been four months since our last funday “just because”, and they went out of their way to not just accept my offer, but to insist I pick the bar where this soiree was going to go down. 

I picked Quinton’s in Waldo, and we agreed to meet up around 6pm on Friday, December 14^th.

At about noon on that Friday, I got a text from The Chica asking if we were still on for that night.  I replied that we were.  She said they’d see me when I got there.

From that moment on?

It’s been one gigantic Chernobyl, of a relationship.

--------------------

Friday, December 14, 2012, is a day no American should ever forget.  (Again: I am the one here, who does not believe in coincidence.)

Because it is the day that SandyHook happened.  And quite frankly, it is President Obama’s finest hour.  I have never been as proud to have that man as my leader, than I was on that Sunday night the 16^th, in his speech to the nation in the aftermath of that national tragedy. 

I spent the ride from work to Waldo, listening to Dana and Parks (as I usually do), only unlike most days, I wasn't laughing, and neither were they.  I was crying on that Metro ride, as were the hosts of the show, and I know I'm not the only person, who was shedding tears that day, at yet another senseless tragedy that was 100% preventable, against the greatest generation still to come.

But that’s not why I’ll ultimately remember Friday, December 14^th, 2012, as a sad, sad day.

I’ll remember it as a sad, sad day, because it’s the day I realized beyond the shadow of any doubt, that Dustin and Kellie were no longer the Dustin and Kellie I once knew, loved, and (in Kellie’s case) respected.  (Sorry Champ, but I’ve never respected you.  And if you’re being fair, that feeling’s mutual.  Our friendship was never based on respect for either side.)

--------------------

So let me address December 14^th, 2012, by noting this: no one can deny I gave Dustin and Kellie every single thing they demanded.  And yes, they drove the “negotiation”.  I offered nothing but unconditional surrender that night – up to and including letting them change the bar on me as I was on my way to Waldo, because their dinner plans had fallen through, so somehow, that meant Lew’s was now their preferred place to talk.

In fairness to them, they never demanded we meet at Lew’s.  And in fairness to them, they did half-assedly offer to meet me across the street at Quinton’s when they were done eating.

But in fairness to me?  That’s a dick move, and everybody knows it.  They knew I would go along with Lew’s … and if they didn’t realize what yet another bitch slap of disrespect that move was to me?  Then they’re either so ignorant they can’t see reality, or so arrogant they don’t care.  And sadly, I don’t know what the proper answer is, ignorance or arrogance, at this point.

I picked Quinton’s for a reason – three of them actually – and in case anyone ever doubts I don’t think three moves ahead in dealing with a problem or a person that’s a problem, this night proves I do.  I picked Quinton’s because (a) they have the cheapest happy hour prices in Waldo, (b) their happy hour runs the longest in Waldo, and (c) I was testing The Champ and The Chica, to see if they could even manage at this point to set their selfishness aside, to at least give me the bar of my choice, for my “unconditional surrender” to them. 

(For the record, I left the bowling alley two nights earlier, telling my teammates that “you watch – they’ll find a way to not have this happen at Quinton’s”.  As always, I can not only think three moves ahead; I can see at least two ahead.)

I arrived at Lew’s, knowing nothing good was going to come from this night.  But I did do what I didn’t want to do, once I got the text changing the location, and that was show up.

Because I knew, what I was dealing with, at that point.  And it’s two people, noone should ever have a desire, to have to deal with.  Two people who place their arrogance, selfishness, egos and greed, above those they claim to care about and/or love.  

Who gives a shit about you?  They’re all that matter, to them.

This will be one of the 27 questions to come in the next post, but I’ll ask it early: “what the hell did your dinner plan changes, have to do with our meeting up at Quinton’s?  Why not just eat your dinner, then meet me at Quinton’s as scheduled, without sending the text guaranteed to change the venue?  Why couldn’t you two even give me my damned favorite bar, for the fucking conversation?”

(Pause).  Yeah, the next two posts might need to have a “I’m over 18, and I consent to what I am about to read” disclaimer entryway, attached to them.

--------------------

The conversation itself was pleasant enough.  Sadly, I actually think they were being somewhat genuine in what they demanded out of me.  

Well, of course they were -- I was giving them every fucking thing they'd demanded for 115 days.  And all they were offering in return?

We'll get to those lies, momentarily.

--------------------

Specifically, they made the following demands on me:

* We were not going to deal with what had happened.  They had to be allowed to get away with all of it, without a shred of accountability or consequence.  I said fine.

* I would be provided with no answers, no explanations, for all they had done.  I just had to accept it.  I said great.

* There would be no credible apologies for all that had happened.  Again, they had to be allowed to get away with treating me for 115 days in a manner so offensive, the phrase “bitch slap” was used, to describe how their allies in this fight, would have reacted had they done this to them.  I said spectacular.

* We had to start over, as if nothing had happened.  I said wonderful.

* We had to treat each other, as if nothing had happened.  These 115 days become the “elephant in the room” that nobody acknowledges is there.  I said sweet, let’s do this.

* And as part of that starting over, and creating one helluva gigantic elephant, we all had to agree, that once we walked out the front door of Lew’s that night, that NONE of us, for ANY reason, could EVER again bring up ANYTHING that had happened, in the previous 115 days.  It was all dead, buried, and off limits, no matter what we thought of it.

To this point, I actually did whole-heartedly agree.  Because it’s the only time that night, I actually thought Dustin and Kellie were telling the truth, were actually saying something they intended to do.

--------------------

But just to be sure, I decided to insure myself against the fraud and deception I knew was occurring.  Once Dustin made that demand, and I agreed to it (as did Kellie), then I started telling some half-truths and outright lies that were just believable enough, you’d question if they actually were true. 

That's the key point to note, that The Champ and The Chica conveniently ask you to ignore.  

I didn't lie to them, BEFORE the demand, that nothing that was said or done prior to walking out the door, was made of me.

And actually, that's not fair.

The Champ knew what that demand meant.

It's why he told The Chica, to not do what she did, on the Easter Sunday seventeen months ago, that sealed the downfall of this friendship, of this "family".

Because Dusty knew, I'd trapped them.  Dusty knew, the only way they'd ever know I lied to them?

Was if everything they demanded I agree to, was a lie to begin with.

But hey -- they stand for openness and honesty at all times.

The hypocrisy of the two of them stinks so much, I can smell it 30 miles away, from lovely Yecker Avenue.

--------------------

So let me acknowledge the obvious:

Did I lie to them after that demand was made?  Hell yes I did!  

Because – and this is what The Chica cannot seem to comprehend – if NONE of us can EVER again mention ANYTHING that happened prior to our walking out the door that night?

They’d never know I lied to them.

Because they couldn’t ask, they couldn’t confirm.  They had to let it go.

Even 12 SoCo’s on the rocks* in?  

I’m still the smartest person in the room, when it’s me, The Champ, and The Chica in said room.

Go figure – three weeks later, The Chica proved herself to be a liar (which, in fairness, I already knew she was; just wait until we get to the Twenty Seven Questions I’d Like a (Bleeping!) Answer To post), by dredging up the half-truths and outright lies I told her that night, while out celebrating my birthday.

Let that sink in – she broke our “deal”, that they wrote every piece of, while out celebrating my birthday.

Talk about bitch slapping someone!

--------------------

(*: "The Kid" and "boasheao" can confirm: I was POUNDING the SoCo on the rocks, that night.  Yet another reason I wanted Quinton's -- I knew how much I was going to have to drink, to swallow and choke down, giving them all they demanded.)

--------------------

In fairness to The Champ and The Chica, they did give me certain promises, concessions, for agreeing to cave to all their demands.

Specifically, they promised three specific things.

1. I’d never again be left out of post-bowling fun.  I still want to punch Dustin in the balls for what he did on Halloween 2012, when he and Kellie intentionally left me behind.  And they both intentionally left me out of the invite list for most of the last season.  

So be it – but if you don’t want me around, at least have the balls to say it to my face.

They promised I’d never again be left out.

I haven’t been invited to join them since mid-February 2013.

2. They swore we’d never again go four months without a Funday “just because”.  Specifically, they swore they’d never go that long, without extending an invite to me.

Every invitation to spend time in their presence for anything other than post-bowling since December 31, 2011?

Has come from me.

Save for Kellie’s demand to come over and talk, on ten minutes notice, on Easter Sunday 2013.  Funny – I ask them to talk, I’m literally told to go fuck myself*.  

She demands to come over and talk on a holiday?  I offer to buy the beer for the conversation.

You tell me who’s to blame for this.  Because I’m fucking done, pretending for even a moment of time, that any of this is my fault.  It’s time to hold the lying hypocrites accountable, for who they are, and what they have done.

3. Again – they swore none of us would ever again raise, what had happened, in any way, anywhere, anytime, anyplace.  And then they did.

Kellie, here’s another of the Twenty Seven Questions I Want a (Bleeping!) Answer To: "do you consider a broken promise to be a lie, or a failure of character? 

Or both?"

--------------------

(*: this is coming up in the next post ... although indirectly, via Question Twenty Seven.)

--------------------

The truest sign Lew’s killed off what was left of this friendship: those of you who know me even reasonably well, know my car hasn’t worked right in a couple years, and I don’t even bother at this point – I just rely on mass transit, and the kindness of friends, to get to and from where I desire to be.

(Again, I don’t believe in coincidence.  I have to think that God spared me from a few DUI’s the last couple years, given all I’ve had to deal with, out of not just The Family, but with real life.  I guarantee you, I'd have had a couple DUI's last October, if I'd been driving back and forth from the hospital every night.)

When we walked out the door that night, The Champ and The Chica were headed next to Power and Light. 

(Stunner: I wasn't invited.  So let me once again state: I am so fucking glad to know this "night of friendship" you went overboard to convince all our friends was genuine and sincere?  

Was pigeon-holed between your dinner plans, and party plans.)  

The “friendship” move, would have been to offer me a ride home.  It would have been, at most, a six, seven minute detour off The Watkins to downtown. 

Instead?  They hung a U-turn to flag down a cab going the other direction.

A five minute ride home, was asking too much of them.  That was demanding too much of them.

Dustin?  Kellie?  Every time you’ve ever taken me anywhere?  All three times I've ever asked?

Have I ever once failed to pay you?  Have I ever once failed to compensate you?

If you’re being honest?  You know the answer is “no”, to all of those questions.

Then again, if you were capable of being honest?

I wouldn’t have the anger, and the rage, and the disgust, the contempt, the hurt, the outrage, and the (at times) irrational hatred I have for you two, at this point.

--------------------

I’m sorry that this is such a “Stevo’s a selfish ass who can’t get over the loss of a couple of friends” post … but sometimes?  I am a selfish ass.  And I didn’t want to lose these two friends.

Only two of these posts remaining: 

* The Twenty Seven Questions I Want Some (Bleeping!) Answers To … and in the interest of fairness, at least four of the twenty seven, I know the answer to; I’d just love for the person(s) asked the question, to be honest and admit the answer(s).

Especially Question Twenty Seven, which is the key to this whole fight, and is a question The Champ can never afford the answer, to be revealed to.

* And The Final Goodbye, where I will explain why I have handled things as I have since Lew’s, and why I’m done trying to save a friendship, The Champ and The Chica not only have no interest in saving, but they’ve set out every day for two years, to destroy.

Which means that once again, what Dusty and Kellie demand?  They get.  And what I want?  I sacrifice.

And when it comes to The Ex?  I guess it’s time to finally deal with a few things that we’ve conveniently ignored for half a decade, and finally allow me to state, for the record, why I feel about her as I do.  (Hint: she's the one dissolved friend in this debacle, I'm willing to blindly forgive.)

(dave matthews band voice) Funny, the way it is, if you think about it …

"the family" funeral part cinco: the family itself

“And I?

Never thought I’d feel

This way.

And as far as I’m concerned?

I’m glad I got the chance to say?

That I do believe I love you.

And if,

I should ever

Go away?

Well then close your eyes

And try, to feel the way

We do today.

And then if you can remember …

Keep smiling.

Keep shining.

Knowing you can always count on me,

For sure.

(Because) that’s what friends are for!

For good times,

And bad times?

I’ll be on your side forever more.

That’s what friends are for …

-- “That’s What Friends Are For”, by Dionne Warwick, Gladys Knight, Stevie Wonder … and the greatness, that is Sir Elton John.

--------------------

For the record, we’ve reached midfield, in this series of posts.  Four down, four (counting this one) to go.

And for the record?

The opening lyrics to this post?  Used to define The Family.

Now?  

It couldn't be a bigger pile of bullshit, if the greatness that is Bevo himself, left a steaming pile of said bullshit, on this post.

--------------------

The Four So Far:

* Part Uno: The Preview.

* Part Dos: The Ex.

* Part Tres: The Chica.

* Part Quatro: The Champ.

--------------------

The Four To Come:

* Part Cinco: The Family.  (To those of you who have an IQ hovering around room temperature?  This is Part Cinco.)

* Part Sies: Two Days in December. 

* Part Siete: Twenty Seven Unanswered Questions I’d Love Some (Bleeping!) Answers To.

* Part Ocho: The Final Goodbye.

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The Lines In The Overall Theme Song (“Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”) That Apply To The One Member Of The Family Not Yet Profiled (Hey, That’s Me!):

* “I should have listened to my old man.”  Or more specifically, my mom, who was 100% right in what I should have done, in the aftermath of Stubbs … and yet I still contend I was 100% right in what I did do, in the aftermath of Stubbs.

* “This boy’s too young to be singing the blues.”  That’s what the alcohol is for.

* “Hunting the horny back toad.”  I did attend -- and somehow graduate -- TCU.

* “It’ll take you a couple of vodka and tonics, to set you on your feet again!”  A couple?!?!?!?!

* “So goodbye yellow brick road, where the dogs of society howl.”  I did grow up in the Golden Ghetto, (old school collection agent voice) “on the Kansas side”.

* “Maybe you’ll get a replacement; there’s plenty like me to be found.”  Good luck with that.  And I truly do mean those four words to the other members of The Family, because worst and most damning of all:

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* “Oh, I’ve finally decided, my future lies?  Beyond the yellow brick road.”

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11. (Advertisement Voice) “Asian Massages!  On (The) Second Floor!”

This was from the Sunday ride home from Nebraska, after spending the better part of a week up in beautiful (and for once, I’m not being sarcastic) beautiful Gering, Nebraska, for The Chica’s hometown wedding reception.

Because of the insane flooding on I-29, we had to go the long way to get to and from our destination(s) of Gering and the beautiful (again, no sarcasm!), beautiful Kansas City metropolitan area.  We wound up stopping at a truck stop just outside of beautiful (note: this one?  Employ the sarcasm), beautiful Salina, Kansas, to get some gas, get some food, and use the facilities.

When Dusty and I headed in, the quote above, was posted on the door entering this place.

I’d be lying, if I said I didn’t contemplate, heading left, up that flight of stairs, to experience an “Asian massage”.

I have very few regrets in life … but I do regret not experiencing a happy ending, at that truck stop.

10. (The Champ Voice) “I Need You!  Now!  They’re Driving Me Insane!”

The first Monday in April, 2010.  Any fan of college basketball will instantly know what happens, on the first Monday in April, in any given year.  For this given year, it was Duke vs Butler, for the national title.

I had promised my brother I’d help him finish up laying down the pergowood in the kitchen, so I’d taken a half day, and was helping him finish up, when I got the text quote above from The Champ.

Let’s just say, The Chica and The Ex, were not rooting for Duke that night.

And in the interest of full disclosure – sorry Champ, but if Gordon Hayward’s buzzer beater had gone through the net, instead of barely missing off the back of the rim?

Nobody would have been laughing in fits of joy, more than me.

I tolerate Duke.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Yeah, good point.  I tolerate Duke, because I DESPISE North Carolina, especially that Rat Bastard Traitor they employ as their head coach.

9. (NSYNC Voice) “Ain’t No Lie!  Baby?  Bye Bye …”

From the last truly great event as The Family, our floater in the second week of August, 2011.  Not even a week after Nebraskapalooza, we were at it again, this time enjoying the Niangra.

8. One Last Bonfire At The OK Corral Known as Stubbs.

This would have been sometime in May 2009.  The Ex and I were still together, and I’d already moved out of the Stubbs house.  I know it was a Friday.  I got a call from The Champ, asking if we wanted to come over, and have one last evening in the backyard, enjoying burning some stuff in the bonfire pit.

It’s the little moments in life, that tend to matter to me.  That this matters more to me, than The Champ and The Chica’s wedding receptions, than a float trip, should only prove that.

7. (Stevo Voice) “Why Do We Need a Kid’s Chair?” / (The Champ’s Mom Voice) “She Has My Permission To Use His Full Name!”

From Nebraskapalooza, Day 3, the dinner at Joe’s.  You can read the recap of the day, and of why this never fails to make me laugh, by clicking here.

6. (The Ex Voice) “Really?” / (The Chica Voice) “Why Am I Not Surprised?”

Oh boy.

If ever any moment, defined The Family at its “finest”, I’d argue this was it.

Masters Sunday 2010.  (Note: sh*tty recap ... but the moment's in there, kinda, sorta ...)

It was an insanely nice day here in our fine five-county metropolitan area.  About 11:30 am, I heard from The Champ, asking what I was up to.  Noting the obvious (“I’m watching the Par 3’s online.  You?”), he threw out the “why don’t you come over and watch (the final round)?”  Seeing as we’re both insane Phil fans (especially me), that made total sense to me.

What also made total sense?  Was to re-create some of the Stubbs magic … and haul a TV out onto the deck, to at least get some sun, while watching this thing.

The Chica and The Ex were at some psychic fair downtown with some friends of theirs.  When they got back to The Champ’s place, and walked in the door, what they saw, prompted their quotes above.

Two shirtless dudes, on the back deck, completely losing it over Phil’s miracle chip out of the pine on 13* that all but sealed the win.  And there may have been a few empty beer bottles, and a few roach-like remnants, to complete the scene.

As Brad Paisley would note: “I live for little moments?  Like that.”

(*: it’s the third greatest shot I’ve ever watched at Augusta National.  The second being Eldrick’s second shot at 16 in 2005, the first being Jack’s 2^nd at 15 in 1986.)

5. (The Chica Voice) “I Thought He Wanted To Give Me the Business!”

Race Weekend 2010.  It was sometime in early May; I’d be lying if I said I remembered the date. 

That Saturday, I met The Ex, we grabbed some beer, and headed out to do some tailgating beforehand.  We knew entering that day, what The Champ knew … but the Chica didn’t.

It was proposal day.

Hang on, that isn’t typed right.

It was Proposal Day.

We knew Dusty was going to propose to Kellie.  We just didn’t know how.

So, we got the recap from them, when we all met up in our seats.

Dusty chose to do it privately, first thing in the morning, in the bedroom.  The quote above?  Is what The Chica thought he wanted, when he woke her up that morning.

Again, it’s the little moments like that, that I’ll miss.

4. The Actual First “Date”.

Winter Blues 2009.  Me and The Ex, The Champ and The Chica, on our first “official” dates with each other.

It was one helluva fun night.  Turned into a fun morning.  And ultimately turned into one helluva fun friendship.

3. The “Official” First Date.

Was the night of the OU / Florida National Title Game, in January 2009.  The Ex and The Chica came over, had a fun first night on “The Couch”, and truly, this night, was the launch of the friendship of a lifetime. 

(You’re damned right I bet The Ex … and lost.  Seriously, Bob Stoops, can you win just ONE more game with everything on the line?  It’s only been fourteen freaking years since Josh Heupel justified your employment at OU, and earned you millions upon millions of dollars with his miraculous 55-14 rout of Texas that made your only national championship possible.  Let’s work on that sir.  (Cue my brother and his father-in-law nodding vociferously, at this subsection of the post.)

2. The Last New Year’s Eve, Of Life As It Was.

This would be New Year’s Eve 2011, and in many regards, the SS Family was already taking on more water than the SS Poseidon as the Reverend Scott led the survivors up the Christmas tree.

But for one last night, this friendship worked. 

The evening was spent at Dustin and Kellie’s, enjoying a healthy helping of alcohol, enjoying whatever awesome stuff they cooked up, enjoying a medicinally legal product, and for one of the last times, simply enjoying each other. 

Hell, the evening was so pleasant, I didn’t even mind Josh being there.  And that’s saying something, considering less than a week later, I let The Ex know what we all thought of him, and probably forever, and (probably) forever (stewie griffin voice) roo-eened that relationship.

This night?  Was also the last time Dustin or Kellie, has invited me to be in their presence, just because.  We’ll get into the “Lies of Lews” in one of the next two posts … but yeah, you go nearly three years without a single invitation to spend time with you “just because you can”, yet you claim this wasn’t personal, this was only about a bowling league team, and that I just need to acknowledge that and move on?

(seventh day adventist voice comment on bevo's "contribution" to this site) Fertilizer!

Also from the “I don’t believe in coincidence” department: care to guess whose final New Year’s Eve, was the 2011 edition?

Yup.  “Strokey” Dick Clark.

Again – I do NOT believe in coincidence.

1. (Random Narrator Voice) “So Two Guys Walk Into a Bowling Alley …”

Every great thing has to have a birthing point, a beginning.  The Family’s was Wednesday, October 1, 2008, when we all met for the first time.

You can read the details, by clicking here.

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There are three posts left to, uuh, post.

The three remaining, are my defense, accountability, answer, and explanation, for why I handled things as I did in dealing with Dusty, Kellie, and Katie ... and why I look on what we have become, with utter and total disgust, regret, embarrassment, and contempt.

The question everyone reading this who knows us should be asking ... is why don't the three of them -- two of them especially -- feel the same utter and total disgust, regret, embarrassment, and contempt, over what we all caused, this "friendship" to become ...