Its been one heckuva week. As always, your recap of the latest happenings in “Steveville” …
* The week opens with a Scheyer championship! I meant what I wrote on my Facebook posting … for the most part. Truth be told, I was scared sh*tless when Hayward had the shot from midcourt to win the game. But what a win for Duke. Someone is going to steal a 10 year player in Scheyer. I pray its Milwaukee. Speaking of which …
* Stay classy, Amare Stoudamire. Stay classy. Way to club a defenseless player in the back and not only end his season, but any shot Milwaukee realistically had at getting out of round one.
* But the Bucks are in, thanks to three “onions!” victories post-Bogut injury. At worst, they’re the six. If they draw Boston, the conventional wisdom is they can still care the C’s. I actually prefer to draw Atlanta. The only way Milwaukee advances is if BJ, Luke and Stackhouse are on fire from three land. They can do it against Atlanta, because they don’t have to defend the interior game.
* “Lost”. I can’t even begin to describe how much I loved last Tuesday’s episode, “Happily Ever After”. It might have been my favorite hour of original television since the “Swingtown” pilot two summers ago. What I loved the most about it, was that not only did the whole point of the series become clear … its how it became clear.
Because you learned what “The Constant” is.
Its not a fixture. Its not a moment in time. Its not a fixture to hold onto as you travel through time.
Its your time travel companion.
It’s a person. Your one true love.
Your “constant”.
Absolutely loved it. The scene with Desmond and Penny in the stadium, holy crap. I was in near tears when D fainted as he touched her hand. And the chance he took – knowing full well in the flash-sideways that they were together “in another life, brother!”, and she didn’t seem to know, knowing full well that it “violated the rules” as Eloise put it … taking the risk … in a word, amazing. And Penny’s reaction. A knowing “wait, this feels so right because its happened before …” look. I never, and I mean never, thought any scene in this show could make me more ridiculous than when Sawyer gave Juliet the flower in “LaFleur” last year. I thought that was the limit of my emotional response to a television show. (Save for Jimmy Smits’ last episode on “NYPD Blue”. The end to his story arch in season six was epic. I still remember calling my mom from a Applebee’s in (lovely) McAlister, Oklahoma, giving her instructions on how to program my VCR in my bedroom as I headed home for Thanksgiving. That’s a moment recapped elsewhere on this site. Anyways, my point? Oh yeah.)
And then came last Tuesday. “There’s a coffee shop at Sweetzer and Melrose. I’ll be there in an hour”.
Holy freaking crap.
I literally came unhinged when she said that. This show is just so freaking spectacular. Where do you begin? Every week ups the ante to an insanely new high level. That scene in the stadium, the “alternative” of Jack and Desmond to open season two, you just have to love it.
I haven’t met my “constant” yet. At least, I don’t think I have. Or if I have, it hasn’t really been in a “true love” type of manner. If I did and whiffed on seeing what should be, screw me.
But everyone has their “constant”. Their one true love. Leave it to “Lost’ to hammer the point home in a manner not even I can screw up understanding.
* The weekend was arguably my best weekend in two years. Ever since the Chiefs beat denver in a perfect storm at Arrowhead. Friday, I met up with some good friends at Dixon’s in Lee’s Summit for some rock solid chili, some all-you-can-eat tacos, and dollar draws. (Hooray!) Saturday, spent a solid 5 hours at the ‘rents, getting some trees knocked down, cleared out, to get the backyard in shape for summer.
Then Saturday afternoon, the first tailgate of the season. Heath’s birthday celebration! As good as it gets. A solid 15, 16 person tailgate. Me getting crap from the lovely Shannon for my “drinking” … and then her admitting “wait a second, you haven’t had a drink in 5 hours. You really aren’t as bad as I thought …” Running into the ex-roommate Gregg and Brent and assorted others.
(I still love that people are shocked I’m not as hammered out there as they expect. I almost never get tanked at the Sports Complex. For one thing, its too costly to keep drinking inside the stadiums. For another, I still have to drive home. Why is this a shock? I don’t get it. I guess).
But best of all … I am no longer the only left-leaning person in any tailgating group! Brett is even further left than I’ve been in the last few years. Nothing shocked me more than that. A formerly staunch Republican defending Obama. I am still in shock. I have my issues with Barry … and I will always oppose any person or party that wants to establish a theocracy … but man, Brett shocked me. In a good way.
* And then came Sunday. Got a call about 11:30am from Dusty. Pretty much the conversation:
(dusty) what are you doing?
(steve) watching tv. Ready for phil to break out. and you?
(dusty) same. You wanna watch this over here?
(steve) sure. Coverage starts at 1, right?
(dusty) I think so.
(steve) I’ll be there.
Sunday … might have been my favorite day of the last year. Seriously. It was like old times. Just me and DJ, on the deck, enjoying the afternoon while watching a huge sporting event. Sunday was one of those moments in life, when you just know everything worked out perfectly.
Had a blast watching Phil win the Masters for the third time. Really enjoyed the grilling, the mac and cheese, even the “I knew when the TV was on the deck, I’d see the two of you with the shirt off trying to get a tan” blast. Damn right! It was 80 on a Sunday in April! Couldn’t ask for better weather!
It might not have been the “deck”, but it worked. Nothing else matters.
Phil wins Augusta. The Royals are 3-4 after the opening week. The Chiefs schedule is still up for speculation. The Bucks are in the playoffs. (The Stars, sadly, are not. Great job firing Dave Tippett guys, just brilliant. In a “you are mother f*cking idiots!” kind of way). And we’re staring tailgate 350,001 in the face sometime this summer. Hopefully sooner rather than later. I want everyone to truly enjoy 350,001. I’m aware two great chicas in my life are expecting in September so that limits them … but I really want 350,001 to be a celebration. Not of my “chemical dependency”, but of the friendship we all have.
“There’s a coffee shop at Sweetzer and Melrose. We can meet there in an hour …”
Yes. Yes we can …
Showing posts with label steve reveals too much about himself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label steve reveals too much about himself. Show all posts
Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday, May 1, 2009
a great "show" gets cancelled
So I get back from the first run to the new place, prepared to finally attempt to finalize my final thoughts on the "cancellation" of the "Dusty and Steve Show". I fire up iTunes, on random shuffle, and the first song ...
"Although we've come,
To the End of the Road!
Still I Can't Let Go!
It's Unnatural ..."
And at first, I flashed back to the greatest "OC" episode ever, The Rainy Day Women, of which this song was a prominent part.
And then I realized "Stevo, this is it. (sigh) Its over".
I somehow imagined the final night would end differently than what it has. I had visions of a final couch session, or a final night on the deck. Some tears, some booze, some green, good times! Instead ... its just me. At a computer. With the ever-present frosty cold Coors Light. Probably fitting.
There's so much about this move that pisses me off. There's so much about the last two plus years, the entire "show", that pisses me off, that I've lost track of what the latest pisser was.
But at the end of the day, you have to step back, and ask yourself this:
Was it worth it?
So ... in all honesty, I really struggled how to sum up how to state how I feel.
And ultimately, I can't arrive at any other conclusion than ...
Yes. Yes it was.
(vice president joe biden voice) Thanks, Champ.
From the first moments this "show" was hatched, at the incredible Ben Harper concert in the monsoon in August 2006. To the final acts being played out tomorrow. Thanks.
There's a lot I want to say, but I'm not going to say it on a blog. It needs to be conveyed mano y mano. Perhaps on my new deck. With my new apartment's namesake in hand. Or yours, wherever life takes you to next.
You know that I always put my feelings into music, because that's just how I roll. And the only thing I could even remotely find that conveyed how I feel at this point ... (and trust me champ, I searched for a friggin week for something ...) is from the "Home Improvement" finale. (Dammit Stevo! Put down the remote! Man, I'm gonna miss the "Dammit Stevo" blasts ...)
Anyways. Its truly how I feel. Despite it all. From the frustrations from day one, to the irritations at the end ... in the words of the great Kenny Rogers:
(the best I could find on youtube!: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HLhbrvotXE Its the words I'm trying to convey here ...)
"Its hard to say goodbye --
You're much more than a friend.
When good times become memories,
They never really end ...
Like ancient rights of passage,
Its time to carry on --
We caught lighting in a bottle,
As we went along ...
We've got it all.
Wouldn't change a minute!
We've got it all.
Never will forget it!
As years go slipping past us,
You know we will recall,
These times we've found together ...
We've got it all.
Long goodbyes never suited you and me,
You know if God is willing,
We'll go on eternity ...
We've got it all ..."
DJ ... I love ya man. Hold your head up, champ. I'll always have your back, man.
I'll always remember the couch cessions. Watching "Lost" with you and "the wife". The Halloween costume with you and the wife, just thinking about the outfits will always make me laugh out loud. Seriously, that night was probably the happiest I ever saw you in the two years I was here. Good for you! (And the wife).
I hope, I pray ... that you find that happiness, that joy, again. For longer than just a night. For much longer than just a night.
But man ... I will miss this place.
Thankfully, I won't have to miss you. You're a couple left turns down the hall still, through the elevator lobby, in front of the Pontiac Room I've been camped out in lately with the good folks in corporate for the last week ...
"Although we've come,
To the End of the Road!
Still I Can't Let Go!
It's Unnatural ..."
And at first, I flashed back to the greatest "OC" episode ever, The Rainy Day Women, of which this song was a prominent part.
And then I realized "Stevo, this is it. (sigh) Its over".
I somehow imagined the final night would end differently than what it has. I had visions of a final couch session, or a final night on the deck. Some tears, some booze, some green, good times! Instead ... its just me. At a computer. With the ever-present frosty cold Coors Light. Probably fitting.
There's so much about this move that pisses me off. There's so much about the last two plus years, the entire "show", that pisses me off, that I've lost track of what the latest pisser was.
But at the end of the day, you have to step back, and ask yourself this:
Was it worth it?
So ... in all honesty, I really struggled how to sum up how to state how I feel.
And ultimately, I can't arrive at any other conclusion than ...
Yes. Yes it was.
(vice president joe biden voice) Thanks, Champ.
From the first moments this "show" was hatched, at the incredible Ben Harper concert in the monsoon in August 2006. To the final acts being played out tomorrow. Thanks.
There's a lot I want to say, but I'm not going to say it on a blog. It needs to be conveyed mano y mano. Perhaps on my new deck. With my new apartment's namesake in hand. Or yours, wherever life takes you to next.
You know that I always put my feelings into music, because that's just how I roll. And the only thing I could even remotely find that conveyed how I feel at this point ... (and trust me champ, I searched for a friggin week for something ...) is from the "Home Improvement" finale. (Dammit Stevo! Put down the remote! Man, I'm gonna miss the "Dammit Stevo" blasts ...)
Anyways. Its truly how I feel. Despite it all. From the frustrations from day one, to the irritations at the end ... in the words of the great Kenny Rogers:
(the best I could find on youtube!: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HLhbrvotXE Its the words I'm trying to convey here ...)
"Its hard to say goodbye --
You're much more than a friend.
When good times become memories,
They never really end ...
Like ancient rights of passage,
Its time to carry on --
We caught lighting in a bottle,
As we went along ...
We've got it all.
Wouldn't change a minute!
We've got it all.
Never will forget it!
As years go slipping past us,
You know we will recall,
These times we've found together ...
We've got it all.
Long goodbyes never suited you and me,
You know if God is willing,
We'll go on eternity ...
We've got it all ..."
DJ ... I love ya man. Hold your head up, champ. I'll always have your back, man.
I'll always remember the couch cessions. Watching "Lost" with you and "the wife". The Halloween costume with you and the wife, just thinking about the outfits will always make me laugh out loud. Seriously, that night was probably the happiest I ever saw you in the two years I was here. Good for you! (And the wife).
I hope, I pray ... that you find that happiness, that joy, again. For longer than just a night. For much longer than just a night.
But man ... I will miss this place.
Thankfully, I won't have to miss you. You're a couple left turns down the hall still, through the elevator lobby, in front of the Pontiac Room I've been camped out in lately with the good folks in corporate for the last week ...
Sunday, December 7, 2008
10 years ago ...
I was up early today. As I usually am for a Chiefs / denver showdown. No matter how ugly the records, I am always up for this game.
Ten years ago today, December 7, 1998, a 5-7 Chiefs squad gave the 12-0 donkeys all they could handle, falling 35-31 in denver.
A rough day, for those of us who bleed red (and gold).
But 10 years ago today ...
Look it, I have been asked many times (as I'm sure others have as well) "what is the one thing you would change about your life if you could".
And God knows, I have a lot of choices to pick from. Most of which are incredible screw-ups on my part. Some of which are incredible lapses in judgment on my part. One decision above all others haunts me to this day, I still cannot reconcile with my conscience the consequence of that action.
And yet ... the only decision I look back on and think "well, maybe I'd change that", occurred 10 years ago today.
When I decided what job offer to accept coming out of college.
Let me flash back ...
I came home for Thanksgiving on Tuesday, November 25, 1998. I got a late start out of Dallas. I stopped for dinner (as I always did on the trek home) at the Applebees in McAlister, at like 6:50pm, and called my mom to remind her "please, for the love of God, record NYPD Blue! Its Jimmy Smits last episode!" (Somehow, she figured out how to record the VCR in my room. Whew).
I sat down in the bar area, order a tall Shiner Bock, was watching a basketball game, and basically was like "wow, what a holiday this should be". I was three weeks from graduating college ... and I had no interviews lined up. I had no job offers. I had no friggin clue what I was going to do.
So I'm sitting there, onto Shiner number two (at least), eating whatever I ordered, watching hoops, and I can't shake this feeling, this emotional thought, that's entered my mind. The idea that I'll have two job offers to choose from, and won't know what to do.
I didn't pay it much attention in the Applebees. I blamed it on the Shiner, but I couldn't shake the feeling. Two offers were coming. And I wouldn't know what to do.
I got home about 10:30 that night. (For those doing the mental "how fast was Steve driving" math ... McAlister to KC should take about 3 1/2 hours. I made it in under 3. Yup, I drive like a Texan and make no apologies for it ...) Anyways, I get home, let mom know I'm there (she still had to get up and teach the next day). Since dad was still at work, and my brother wasn't coming home until the next day, it was just me for a while.
I pour myself a glass of shiraz (one good thing about the 'rents: there's always a bottle or four of wine to tap into!), sit down at the kitchen table, and am reading through the paper, when dad gets home from work.
We have a few moments of guy talk, and then the conversation inevitably turns to "what the hell are you going to do in three weeks".
My dad, who will never be accused of being a psychic, drops a bomb on me. "I can't explain it, but I just think you're gonna have a couple offers to choose from. And I don't know which one is best for you".
The weekend was pretty uneventful. Thanksgiving I don't really remember, which in my family, is probably a good thing. I know I did some shopping. The Chiefs snapped a 6 game losing streak by beating the Cardinals.
I got back to the apartment at maybe midnight after the game, only to discover the "Heineken stash" was officially gone.
(Sidebar: the "Heineken stash" is arguably the single greatest grocery store buy ever. Its early November 1998. Me and Frank hit the Tom Thumb after late night bowling league on Thursday, to get what we need for the weekend. And there's a sign, "$7.99 / 12 Pack Heineken". I'm like "wow". Frank's like "wow". So I flag down the stock guy, and go "what's the limit". He responds "oh, we got an overshipment, there's no limit on those". Really. We called Vineet to get a 2nd car up there to get everything we bought back to the apartment ...)
Anyways, that night, I applied for two jobs. I heard back from both the next day, to set up interviews for that Friday (December 5th).
One interview was with Rubbermaid. The other was with a real estate development company in Grapevine. Both were for jobs in the D/FW area. (I did not want to move back to KC).
Rubbermaid was first, at a hotel by the airport. They wound up making me an offer ... but for a job based in Kansas City. The development company also made me an offer, for a comptroller job there in Grapevine.
I entered the weekend with two clear choices. KC or Dallas.
The offers ... definitely tilted to KC's favor. I'd have a company car, a company credit card, and a salary far above what the development company was offering me. All they could offer was ... Dallas. Where I wanted to live.
I had a choice to make, since I'd promised both parties a decision by Monday.
Just like I'd thought in the Applebees. Just like my dad had said would happen. I had no clue what to do.
I chose the Rubbermaid job that night, 10 years ago today. I chose it mainly for financial reasons. As life would have it, on the surface, I made the wrong decision.
Rubbermaid was bought out less than 6 months after I started. All of us were let go in July for a cheaper alternative. And financially, it was a struggle for a good long while after that to simply stay afloat.
But back to my original question. Would I change my decision to take the job with Rubbermaid, and undo all of life since then, if I could, would I?
For me ... its all about the friends.
I'm not in a relationship at that time, or at this time either. And despite my attempts to overcome my personal views ... I just am not into casual hookups. Anyone can have sex. I'd rather have sex with someone I give a shit about. I'd rather wait for someone who matters, than drive an hour to hookup with someone I've never met before and hope the condom doesn't break. Which probably explains the 19 month scoring drought and counting ...
So since I didn't (and don't) have a "good" friend ... do I regret moving back to KC instead of staying in Dallas?
No.
Not by a long shot.
Gregg and I had our issues back in the day. But I'm pretty sure they're dead and buried. I never would have gotten to know Brent like I have if I hadn't moved back (and if he hadn't moved back ... welcome back! your dreams were your ticket out! welcome back! to that same old place that we laughed about ...)
I'd have never gotten to meet Ashley and Meagan and Mallory.
And I'd have never met Dusty. Megan. Damien. Or (insert Transamerica employee here).
Did I make a mistake I'd undo?
I have to go with not just a no, but a "hell no!"
Somehow, that feels, really, really good ...
Ten years ago today, December 7, 1998, a 5-7 Chiefs squad gave the 12-0 donkeys all they could handle, falling 35-31 in denver.
A rough day, for those of us who bleed red (and gold).
But 10 years ago today ...
Look it, I have been asked many times (as I'm sure others have as well) "what is the one thing you would change about your life if you could".
And God knows, I have a lot of choices to pick from. Most of which are incredible screw-ups on my part. Some of which are incredible lapses in judgment on my part. One decision above all others haunts me to this day, I still cannot reconcile with my conscience the consequence of that action.
And yet ... the only decision I look back on and think "well, maybe I'd change that", occurred 10 years ago today.
When I decided what job offer to accept coming out of college.
Let me flash back ...
I came home for Thanksgiving on Tuesday, November 25, 1998. I got a late start out of Dallas. I stopped for dinner (as I always did on the trek home) at the Applebees in McAlister, at like 6:50pm, and called my mom to remind her "please, for the love of God, record NYPD Blue! Its Jimmy Smits last episode!" (Somehow, she figured out how to record the VCR in my room. Whew).
I sat down in the bar area, order a tall Shiner Bock, was watching a basketball game, and basically was like "wow, what a holiday this should be". I was three weeks from graduating college ... and I had no interviews lined up. I had no job offers. I had no friggin clue what I was going to do.
So I'm sitting there, onto Shiner number two (at least), eating whatever I ordered, watching hoops, and I can't shake this feeling, this emotional thought, that's entered my mind. The idea that I'll have two job offers to choose from, and won't know what to do.
I didn't pay it much attention in the Applebees. I blamed it on the Shiner, but I couldn't shake the feeling. Two offers were coming. And I wouldn't know what to do.
I got home about 10:30 that night. (For those doing the mental "how fast was Steve driving" math ... McAlister to KC should take about 3 1/2 hours. I made it in under 3. Yup, I drive like a Texan and make no apologies for it ...) Anyways, I get home, let mom know I'm there (she still had to get up and teach the next day). Since dad was still at work, and my brother wasn't coming home until the next day, it was just me for a while.
I pour myself a glass of shiraz (one good thing about the 'rents: there's always a bottle or four of wine to tap into!), sit down at the kitchen table, and am reading through the paper, when dad gets home from work.
We have a few moments of guy talk, and then the conversation inevitably turns to "what the hell are you going to do in three weeks".
My dad, who will never be accused of being a psychic, drops a bomb on me. "I can't explain it, but I just think you're gonna have a couple offers to choose from. And I don't know which one is best for you".
The weekend was pretty uneventful. Thanksgiving I don't really remember, which in my family, is probably a good thing. I know I did some shopping. The Chiefs snapped a 6 game losing streak by beating the Cardinals.
I got back to the apartment at maybe midnight after the game, only to discover the "Heineken stash" was officially gone.
(Sidebar: the "Heineken stash" is arguably the single greatest grocery store buy ever. Its early November 1998. Me and Frank hit the Tom Thumb after late night bowling league on Thursday, to get what we need for the weekend. And there's a sign, "$7.99 / 12 Pack Heineken". I'm like "wow". Frank's like "wow". So I flag down the stock guy, and go "what's the limit". He responds "oh, we got an overshipment, there's no limit on those". Really. We called Vineet to get a 2nd car up there to get everything we bought back to the apartment ...)
Anyways, that night, I applied for two jobs. I heard back from both the next day, to set up interviews for that Friday (December 5th).
One interview was with Rubbermaid. The other was with a real estate development company in Grapevine. Both were for jobs in the D/FW area. (I did not want to move back to KC).
Rubbermaid was first, at a hotel by the airport. They wound up making me an offer ... but for a job based in Kansas City. The development company also made me an offer, for a comptroller job there in Grapevine.
I entered the weekend with two clear choices. KC or Dallas.
The offers ... definitely tilted to KC's favor. I'd have a company car, a company credit card, and a salary far above what the development company was offering me. All they could offer was ... Dallas. Where I wanted to live.
I had a choice to make, since I'd promised both parties a decision by Monday.
Just like I'd thought in the Applebees. Just like my dad had said would happen. I had no clue what to do.
I chose the Rubbermaid job that night, 10 years ago today. I chose it mainly for financial reasons. As life would have it, on the surface, I made the wrong decision.
Rubbermaid was bought out less than 6 months after I started. All of us were let go in July for a cheaper alternative. And financially, it was a struggle for a good long while after that to simply stay afloat.
But back to my original question. Would I change my decision to take the job with Rubbermaid, and undo all of life since then, if I could, would I?
For me ... its all about the friends.
I'm not in a relationship at that time, or at this time either. And despite my attempts to overcome my personal views ... I just am not into casual hookups. Anyone can have sex. I'd rather have sex with someone I give a shit about. I'd rather wait for someone who matters, than drive an hour to hookup with someone I've never met before and hope the condom doesn't break. Which probably explains the 19 month scoring drought and counting ...
So since I didn't (and don't) have a "good" friend ... do I regret moving back to KC instead of staying in Dallas?
No.
Not by a long shot.
Gregg and I had our issues back in the day. But I'm pretty sure they're dead and buried. I never would have gotten to know Brent like I have if I hadn't moved back (and if he hadn't moved back ... welcome back! your dreams were your ticket out! welcome back! to that same old place that we laughed about ...)
I'd have never gotten to meet Ashley and Meagan and Mallory.
And I'd have never met Dusty. Megan. Damien. Or (insert Transamerica employee here).
Did I make a mistake I'd undo?
I have to go with not just a no, but a "hell no!"
Somehow, that feels, really, really good ...
Sunday, October 26, 2008
a life update
Since my one "track this blog" follower blogs on her life, I figured I'd update you on mine. Sadly, its nowhere near as fun, exciting, or fulfilling as hers is. But it is far more frustrating, angering, maddening, and causes you to literally not sleep for two straight days from stress. So I've got that going for me.
First off, I apologize for the lack of a live blog today. I had family obligations, a buddy of ours was over to watch the game, the taco soup was as good as its ever been, and I had to stay relatively sober for said family obligation afterwards. Probably best for all involved that I didn't blog it.
I will get my thoughts up eventually though, probably sometime tomorrow morning.
So ... the point of this post.
Its been an, uuh, trying week professionally for me. I'll spare you the ugly details, but I have finally reached the end of my patience in my current job.
Since I only know of one co-worker that reads this blog on an active basis, I'm not overly concerned about making that statement. (Especially since said co-worker is the roommate and has witnessed this past week first hand). Even if all my co-workers and superiors started reading this though, its not like that statement would come as any sort of a shock.
I have decided it is time to actively seek employment elsewhere than where I currently am employed. I applied for three positions this weekend, and plan to expand my search as the week(s) go along.
I do this very regrettably. I wish to stress, for anyone reading this, that the job itself is not why I want out. If the tools and support promised me were actually delivered to me, I'd probably retire doing what I do now.
I also wish to stress, for anyone reading this, that my direct reporting line has nothing to do with this decision. If anything, they've made this far more difficult than it should be. I have an incredible boss that I report to. Her boss is every bit as incredible. Two awesome women I respect that I don't want to screw over by abandoning them. But this past week, just underscored the point: us pee-ons at (insert steve's employer here) don't matter. Its all CYA for the uppers when things don't go according to script.
So, I refuse to be "guy on 3rd floor who is so utterly incompetent, everyone in the company thinks he's a f*cking joke"'s CYA anymore. You throw me under the bus once pal? I can get past it. You do it for a second month in a row, blow out of proportion something that isn't my fault, that I had no control over, and dump it in my lap to save your ass?
Good luck replacing me pal. Good luck finding anyone dumb enough to take my job. Its probably why my badge still worked on Wednesday morning, my bosses even noted it, "you're not going anywhere, we can't find anyone dumb enough to take your job".
Well, start looking. Because as good as the two of you have been to me, everyone else above you has decided I'm the scapegoat. Sometimes, its best to vacate the house before the lynch mob shows up.
The Rubicon has been crossed, to haul out a historical reference. There's no turning back. As Al Gore famously said at the 1992 DNC, "the clock is ticking, and it is time. Its time for (steve) to go! Its time for (steve) to go!"
The job I applied for that I am most hoping to at least get an interview for, is with a local non-profit. After checking with someone I trust and respect ... this organization seems legit. She said they're solid, and well led. (Unlike another non-profit I was actively involved with. They were legit, but leadership was, uuh, p*ss poor. And still is. Which is why they're in trouble). Anyways.
So if the posts start slowing down for a while, blame it on the job search and potential new employment. I'm not saying they will slow down; I hope they don't. But if they do, you know why.
My roommate says that "the saddest thing you can endure in life is to be without companionship". He sent me that line the day after he and "former girlfriend" broke up last summer. And I thought "you know what, he's got a freaking point! The kid must not be off in (roommate)land!"
But he's wrong.
The saddest thing you can endure in life, is to hate your life as it currently exists. When you reach that point, of just utter frustration and despair and "why the hell continue this way, it ain't worth it" bitterness, crazy and scary thoughts begin to enter your head. Thoughts I want no part of. (And no, I would never act on them, I've seen the fallout first hand). But yeah, I need a change.
So wish me luck. I want my next job to not only bring meaning and value and satisfaction to me, I hope it gives back (which is why I am focusing on non-profit jobs). Anyone can take. I'd like to be someone to give.
And if not, hey. My dad and I still throw in $10 apiece to the Powerball every week, it has to pay off eventually, right? Right? (crickets chirping ...)
First off, I apologize for the lack of a live blog today. I had family obligations, a buddy of ours was over to watch the game, the taco soup was as good as its ever been, and I had to stay relatively sober for said family obligation afterwards. Probably best for all involved that I didn't blog it.
I will get my thoughts up eventually though, probably sometime tomorrow morning.
So ... the point of this post.
Its been an, uuh, trying week professionally for me. I'll spare you the ugly details, but I have finally reached the end of my patience in my current job.
Since I only know of one co-worker that reads this blog on an active basis, I'm not overly concerned about making that statement. (Especially since said co-worker is the roommate and has witnessed this past week first hand). Even if all my co-workers and superiors started reading this though, its not like that statement would come as any sort of a shock.
I have decided it is time to actively seek employment elsewhere than where I currently am employed. I applied for three positions this weekend, and plan to expand my search as the week(s) go along.
I do this very regrettably. I wish to stress, for anyone reading this, that the job itself is not why I want out. If the tools and support promised me were actually delivered to me, I'd probably retire doing what I do now.
I also wish to stress, for anyone reading this, that my direct reporting line has nothing to do with this decision. If anything, they've made this far more difficult than it should be. I have an incredible boss that I report to. Her boss is every bit as incredible. Two awesome women I respect that I don't want to screw over by abandoning them. But this past week, just underscored the point: us pee-ons at (insert steve's employer here) don't matter. Its all CYA for the uppers when things don't go according to script.
So, I refuse to be "guy on 3rd floor who is so utterly incompetent, everyone in the company thinks he's a f*cking joke"'s CYA anymore. You throw me under the bus once pal? I can get past it. You do it for a second month in a row, blow out of proportion something that isn't my fault, that I had no control over, and dump it in my lap to save your ass?
Good luck replacing me pal. Good luck finding anyone dumb enough to take my job. Its probably why my badge still worked on Wednesday morning, my bosses even noted it, "you're not going anywhere, we can't find anyone dumb enough to take your job".
Well, start looking. Because as good as the two of you have been to me, everyone else above you has decided I'm the scapegoat. Sometimes, its best to vacate the house before the lynch mob shows up.
The Rubicon has been crossed, to haul out a historical reference. There's no turning back. As Al Gore famously said at the 1992 DNC, "the clock is ticking, and it is time. Its time for (steve) to go! Its time for (steve) to go!"
The job I applied for that I am most hoping to at least get an interview for, is with a local non-profit. After checking with someone I trust and respect ... this organization seems legit. She said they're solid, and well led. (Unlike another non-profit I was actively involved with. They were legit, but leadership was, uuh, p*ss poor. And still is. Which is why they're in trouble). Anyways.
So if the posts start slowing down for a while, blame it on the job search and potential new employment. I'm not saying they will slow down; I hope they don't. But if they do, you know why.
My roommate says that "the saddest thing you can endure in life is to be without companionship". He sent me that line the day after he and "former girlfriend" broke up last summer. And I thought "you know what, he's got a freaking point! The kid must not be off in (roommate)land!"
But he's wrong.
The saddest thing you can endure in life, is to hate your life as it currently exists. When you reach that point, of just utter frustration and despair and "why the hell continue this way, it ain't worth it" bitterness, crazy and scary thoughts begin to enter your head. Thoughts I want no part of. (And no, I would never act on them, I've seen the fallout first hand). But yeah, I need a change.
So wish me luck. I want my next job to not only bring meaning and value and satisfaction to me, I hope it gives back (which is why I am focusing on non-profit jobs). Anyone can take. I'd like to be someone to give.
And if not, hey. My dad and I still throw in $10 apiece to the Powerball every week, it has to pay off eventually, right? Right? (crickets chirping ...)
Friday, October 3, 2008
because sometimes i need to vent ... and cry ...
You might want to grab a glass of your favorite adult beverage before reading this one.
First things first. I will live blog the Chiefs / Panthers game Sunday. For a couple reasons. One, I actually like doing the live blog. Its so much easier to just post your thoughts as they occur, rather than try to remember them later, like with home games. Two, because it forces me to not over-react, I don't come as unhinged during games when I blog. (I still come unhinged, just not "as" unhinged.)
But for this game ... October 5th has meaning for me. As my buddy Pickell would say, "let me put it this way". This is my blog. "Steve's Site". So, I believe that gives me the liberty to post, to vent, to rant, to reflect on whatever the hell I want to. And one thing I have tried to do, as my motto on the site says, "I don't wanna be anything other than me". (I love that song, absolutely love it. Its the perfect anthem for life. Gavin DeGraw, "I Don't Wanna Be". Download it if you know what's good for you ...)
Anyways, I have always tried to be open, honest, straight forward with my thoughts on this site. I try to express what I'm thinking, I'm feeling, as it occurs.
And when the NFL schedules came out, I prayed we wouldn't play at home on October 5th. Wish granted.
So ... let me vent about my week at work. Which was unbearable. And I need to vent. And since I don't have a girlfriend, or a friend with benefits (yet anyways), you get to take it.
And then get into why this weekend, and this game Sunday, October 5th, will be rough.
Some of my readers are well aware of how frustrated I am with my job. I want out. Desperately. And yet, I feel a strong sense of loyalty to my current boss, who is without question the single best boss I've ever had, in any job I've ever had. I don't want to screw her over by walking away. Mainly because everyone who is connected with my area knows, nobody with a functioning brain would actually volunteer to do my job. Its that bad. So I'm torn.
My job ... to say that I don't have all the tools at my disposal necessary to make it work well, is an understatement. I am an accountant for, uuh, "a major global insurance company". I am the reinsurance accounting department for this company. Its me and me alone here in KC. I have no backup. Literally noone else in the company knows how to do my job. (They've all been "downsized" in the past 18 months). I have no support, outside of two very overworked folks down in another department who try to handle the set-up and customer service aspect of our agreements.
To put this in perspective, at my prior job in reinsurance, we dealt with 15-20 outside "customers". There were 3 of us in accounting, 4 in claims, and about 40 in production. At this job, we deal with 500 plus "customers". There is me to do accounting, and my two co-workers to handle everything else. To say we overwhelmed and under-supported, is a ridiculous understatement.
Because of this arrangement, I usually take the fall whenever anything goes wrong, because I'm the most visible of the three of us. (And of course upper management covers its ass. Because why blame them when its their fault ...) Anyways, this week, we had an issue with issuing a payment that screwed over about 300 of our "customers". They basically didn't get paid for last month's business.
The reason for this is simple: corporate management has refused to authorize anyone in our building with a ceiling high enough to approve the payout. So I have to seek approval for every payment from someone in a different city.
Anyways, this person didn't bother to inform me that he was "leaving the company". And IT didn't disable his email. So for two weeks, I called, emailed, did everything short of hop on a f*cking plane to fly to where he was, wondering why he didn't approve the payment. Finally, we figured out what had happened, we found someone else to quickly sign off on the payment, and got it out the door.
9 days late.
So ... go figure, when the sh*t hit the fan Wednesday afternoon ... upper management unloaded on me. Just absolutely threw me under the proverbial f*cking bus. Because clearly, this is my fault.
I got home from bowling Wednesday night, and I read all the fallout (while working from home for three freaking hours, of course for no pay since I'm "salaried" ...), and I went from angry to enraged. And when I'm enraged ... I'm going on a bender.
Thursday was brutal. By this morning, I'd finally had enough of the email attacks. We had a regularly scheduled month end meeting anyways, and of course, the entire focus was on this missed payment.
If you worked with me at "former employer known for a neat building in the Bay Area", you know that me and Mary, my former boss, had some legendary verbal throw downs. Culminating with that magical verbal screaming match in August 2005 that (literally) the claims department a block away could hear every word of. (Because Brett and JoAnn came over with a "holy f*cking sh*t, they're going to kill each other" look on their faces. That was also the final straw for me in that department, and less than a month later, I was gone for compliance, the single biggest mistake of my life).
Anyways, my point? Yeah, me and my former boss could get into it.
(And yet, the "loudest" we ever got, was when I asked for a meeting with our upper manager regarding Josh. I literally wrote up 18 pages of what I wanted to say (my job was basically hired out from under me because they wanted to move me into a new position, but of course they didn't bother to tell me what their plans were, they just expected me to go with the flow) ... only Mary beat me to the punch, and it was literally a 2 1/2 hour "you're a f*cking idiot to hire him! You f*cked us over! He's a f*cking idiot!" bitch slap of our upper manager. She had my back when it counted. Its probably why we still email all the time. And yes ... I am strongly considering her offer to move to where she's at now and work for her again ...)
OK, so, end of tangent for now. Today was worse than anything me and Mary ever did. At the end of the meeting, we pretty much got everything resolved, but not before I finally snapped and told a divisional manager to "go f*ck yourself". I've never heard a room quiet down so fast. In a "no, he did NOT just say that" kind of silence. And yes, I dropped the "what, do you need me to repeat that?" follow up.
(Follow up: the best part was afterwards, when the VP of our area came up and basically said "I'd have done the same thing. He's an ass". Steve shoots ... and scores! Just not how I really want to at this point ...)
So ... its been a rough week at work. So rough that, knowing I was going to "drink heavily" tonight, I backed out of going to a BBQ tonight because "former roommate" would be there, and given my current financial crunch, the fact that he owes me hundreds of dollars I will probably never see, the free booze, and my week at work ... well, my brother works for the company putting on the BBQ. No sense risking an ugly scene.
Because for me, this weekend is as rough as it gets.
I knew, at some point, that the Chiefs had to play on October 5th. Maybe we'd luck out and get a bye one year, it'd fall on a Monday another year, but eventually, we had to play on this day.
October 5th is a day that just sucks. It absolutely freaking sucks.
October 5, 2004, is a day that I will never forget.
Its the day we officially lost Randy.
I didn't really get to know Randy until I started sitting in section 132 for games 9 years ago. I obviously knew him; he was one of my best friend's dad, he single handedly saved our business plan project junior year in high school when my rambling style of writing would have tanked us. (And we're still waiting on that Neutrogena soap supply ...) But once I moved back here, and moved over to 132 a year later, I got to "know" him.
And what a man he was. Sure, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. We joke to this day in our area about when the Chiefs reach the "Nance, we're out of here!" moment. (For the record, I think he'd have stayed for every second of Sunday's game ... and been there standing, crying right along with me, when the losing streak was snapped. Yeah, Randy hated crappy football from his team ... but he knew the magnitude of the moment when it presented itself. If that makes sense).
The man was the definition of the word "die hard". In the glossary I mention the "When Will Randy Call" game. Didn't matter what the weather was, what our record was, they were in line to get in usually before the Bus arrived. Unreal. I still remember the Lions game in 2003. Its 6:10 in the morning, in the middle of December. Its snowed overnight, its maybe 14 degrees outside. Ridiculous weather conditions. I had just woken up, and was trying to get the coffee pot going. The phone rings. Its Randy --
(steve) (half asleep and hung over) hello?
(randy) Hey! Where you at?
(steve) uuh, at home. Why?
(randy) figured you'd be ready to be out here with us to celebrate already!
(steve) huh?
(note: The Chiefs / Lions game, if we won it, would give us the AFC West championship. I thought that's what he meant).
(randy) really? you're still at home?
(steve) what the hell do you think? Its (looks at the clock) its 6:15 in the f*cking morning!
(randy) then turn on your f*cking TV! (click).
So, I did. Not surprisingly, FOX News was the first channel to appear. And the "Flash" bulletin said it all: "US Forces Capture Hussein".
I just stood there for a solid minute, in awe and amazement. We'd gotten the son of a bitch. I finally started pounding on Gregg's door --
(steve) (pounds on door)
(gregg) (finally wakes up, p*ssed off) WHAT?!?!
(steve) we got him!
(gregg) got who?
(steve) Saddam! We f*cking got him!
(gregg) (sprints out of bed, opens the door, and in record setting speed, heads for the TV in the main room ...)
The tailgating that day was just surreal. Everyone in the parking lot had the radio, or the TV, tuned to ... news. The music wasn't blaring. The pregame show wasn't blaring. It was ... news. (I can't believe I'm about to say this ...) some things are bigger than the Chiefs winning a division title. Catching a thug who murdered a million plus people, is one of those things.
(Guess I just officially dropped the "D" off my voter card ...)
I could dwell on the depression games, but I'd rather remember his final game, the Texans in 2004.
After the previous two tailgates, when he was withdrawn, distant, very reserved, not what we knew ... the Texans tailgate was the Randy we knew and loved. The game itself, was the Randy I knew and loved.
I should have known. I should have seen it coming. I commented to my dad that night after the game "Randy seemed like Randy today". I should have known by his exit.
Yes, he finally reached the "Nance, grab your stuff, we're leaving" moment. Only ... it wasn't with the usual anger, frustration, "why did I pay $70 plus dollars to watch this sh*t" frustration.
He took the time to say goodbye to everyone. He purposely said goodbye. He'd made his decision.
The last time I ever spoke to him was driving home after the Chiefs road win at Baltimore on October 4th (a Monday night game to temporarily save the season). He called me as I was driving home from ... amazingly enough, the place I live today, Dusty's. I wish I could recall the specifics of the phone call. I vaguely recall I took the call close to State Line and 435, and said goodbye and good night around K10 and K7. So I think it was a good final conversation. But wow. If I'd only picked up on it. If I'd only known.
The next day, October 5th, was a beautiful early fall afternoon. High 70s and sunny as I recall. It was at least decent. I was talking with Vineet on my cell when the house phone rang at 7:49pm. I saw it was Gregg's mom on the caller ID, and told Vineet I'd call him back, and answered the call. Bonnie asked for Gregg. She sounded really upset. Fearing it was Gordon, I got Gregg and left the room, heading down to the hottub part of the deck, in case the worst had happened to his dad and he needed a moment or three.
I had half of that right.
I heard a pounding sound, like someone smashing their fist on the counter. I headed back up, prepared to offer my condolences ... only, for the wrong person.
Gregg just looked at me, tears in his eyes ... and I guess I just knew. Randy was gone. By his own choosing.
G headed for Jasson's that night. To this day, I wish I had. Its my biggest regret in life, that I chose to reflect, rather than react. I saw Jasson the next day, and all I could do was hug him and wish him the best. I couldn't bring myself to cry yet.
The rest of the week ... from every tragedy, can come triumph. That Friday night, at Nancy's, just the "core group". Nance, Gregg, me, Jasson and Tara, Russ and Mona. If I remember right, Jenni was the 8th person there. Weather was an issue that Friday night, it was supposed to be a "friends only" night to remember Randy before the services that weekend. The rain delayed everyone coming in from elsewhere. To this day ... I thank God it rained that night. I mean that, sincerely. I'm not a religious person ... but God clearly had a hand on that night. We needed a night to grieve. As a "family". Which "we" are. And God gave it to us, as only he could.
The night ended at about 2am. I was meeting Anthony to go to the Busch race in the morning. I still had not shed a tear. Even after hugging Nancy, embracing my buddy Jasson ... on the drive home with Gregg, I even noted that. I haven't cried yet. What the hell is wrong with me?
The race was ... a boozefest. I drank far more than I should have. (shocking). So much that I missed KU finally beating ksu that night in football, on John Randle's 3 touchdowns.
Sunday was the wake. I had never been to anything more depressing in my life ... and my buddy James (as recapped in the quiz answers) had died 6 weeks earlier. Still, not a tear. Not one tear out of my eyes. I was beginning to think I simply had no heart.
Monday, the funeral. I was asked to be a pallbearer, along with Gregg, Bill Turner, Anthony (different from the race buddy), and two people I forget. We arrive at the funeral home in North KC. Hugs, handshakes, greetings exchanged.
My dad took the day off to attend. I saw him walk in, and for the first time, I had some emotion. Russ and Mona embrace my dad, as do Gregg's folks. As we head off into a "huddle", I simply say this:
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't cried yet".
Mona ... puts it all in perspective:
"You will. When its your time, you will".
The service was just an amazing tribute to an amazing man. Yet I still didn't cry. Somehow I got through Danny's unbelievable, uplifting eulogy without shedding a tear. (And he did as well. I have no idea how he held it together, other than "God had mercy on us". His eulogy was just inspirational. He totally captured the spirit of Randy. God love ya Danny. And for once, I'm not dropping the Biden God Love Ya line as a joke ...)
As the final moments approached, and the mourners comforting the family commenced, "Amazing Grace" with the bagpipes played as the background music.
I saw my dad console Nancy and Jasson, and kind of choked up.
I saw Gordon pause at the coffin, and release his emotions ... and started to get choked up.
I embraced Jasson and Tara, and Austin and Ashton, and Nancy ... and choked up again.
I saw Randy for the final time ... and choked up again.
But still no tears.
Until I walked past the coffin, made the left turn back to the main aisle, entered said main aisle ...
And there was Mona waiting at the end of it.
It was my time to grieve.
I literally started bawling the second I saw her. I didn't stop crying for a solid 15 minutes. Me and Mona, just consoling each other, at the end of the aisle. Eventually others joined us.
My point, as depressing as it is ... I guess, is this:
To this day, when I walk into Arrowhead, and reach my seat, the first thing I do after exchanging greetings with the neighbors, is pat Section 132, row 25, seat 1's, uuh, seat. Pat it like I was patting someone on the back. I don't know why. Actually, I do know why. I'm welcoming my friend to today's game. I've done it every game since the first one without him, the Falcons game in 2004. Its one of those traditions that just makes sense to me, I guess. Like Gregg sticking gum underneath his seat to start the season, or sitting in 22 even though his ticket is for 21. (Or the inverse of that, I forget which it is).
So to close ... I think its probably fitting, that on the drive home today, right as 435 hits its usual parking lot status between Nall and Roe ... that I was flipping through the channels on the Sirius receiver. I started on Hits 1. I don't remember what was on, but junk. StarLite 2 wasn't worth it. I almost never stop on Love 3, and just jump to Movin EZ 4. And just starting was the opening of what I consider to be the single most depressing song of all time, "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg.
I know, I'm a freaking sap, and you can start the "Steve's gay / Steve's a loser / Steve's a (woman's body part that rhymes with "sussy")" jokes now ... but I always tear up listening to that song. That song just gets to me.
It seemed a fitting start to this weekend.
I guess some things matter more than football. The memory of Randy, our friend, our pal, our tailgating buddy, our Arrowhead neighbor ...
my second father ...
That's what counts in this life.
If this whole post depressed you, I'm sorry. But Sunday, its personal for me. October 5th is personal for me. For a lot of you as well.
So come Sunday, keep the amazing, incredible, indefatible Nancy in your prayers. (And please. Call her. Let her know we not only remember ... we care). Keep the "old" generation in your prayers. Gordon, Bonnie, Danny, Debbie, Phil, Christy. Keep Russ and Mona in your prayers. Keep those of us of the "next" generation, Gregg, Jenni, Jason, Steve, Conrad. Sadie, Ivan, Drew, in you prayers. Keep the generation coming up, Luke, Trent, (the amazingly awesome) Ayden, in your prayers.
Some things matter more than a football game. As some of us so painfully found out 4 short years ago this weekend.
Or as Dan Fogelberg put it:
"We drank a toast to innocence,
We drank a toast to now;
We tried to reach beyond the emptiness,
But neither one knew how;
We drank a toast to innocence,
We drank a toast to time;
Living in our eloquence,
Another Old Lang Syne ...
The beer was empty, and our tongues were tired,
Running out of things to day ...
She gave a kiss to me as I got out,
And I watched her drive away ..."
Randy ... I will always miss you. I will miss the phone calls. I will miss the cones saving spots. I will miss you telling the parking folks they "majored in asshole 101".
I will ... miss you.
My friend.
My friend. What more needs to be said.
My friend. I thank God you're someplace better than where we are, (the highest compliment I can pay someone ...) I thank God you are someplace better than we are, tito ...
First things first. I will live blog the Chiefs / Panthers game Sunday. For a couple reasons. One, I actually like doing the live blog. Its so much easier to just post your thoughts as they occur, rather than try to remember them later, like with home games. Two, because it forces me to not over-react, I don't come as unhinged during games when I blog. (I still come unhinged, just not "as" unhinged.)
But for this game ... October 5th has meaning for me. As my buddy Pickell would say, "let me put it this way". This is my blog. "Steve's Site". So, I believe that gives me the liberty to post, to vent, to rant, to reflect on whatever the hell I want to. And one thing I have tried to do, as my motto on the site says, "I don't wanna be anything other than me". (I love that song, absolutely love it. Its the perfect anthem for life. Gavin DeGraw, "I Don't Wanna Be". Download it if you know what's good for you ...)
Anyways, I have always tried to be open, honest, straight forward with my thoughts on this site. I try to express what I'm thinking, I'm feeling, as it occurs.
And when the NFL schedules came out, I prayed we wouldn't play at home on October 5th. Wish granted.
So ... let me vent about my week at work. Which was unbearable. And I need to vent. And since I don't have a girlfriend, or a friend with benefits (yet anyways), you get to take it.
And then get into why this weekend, and this game Sunday, October 5th, will be rough.
Some of my readers are well aware of how frustrated I am with my job. I want out. Desperately. And yet, I feel a strong sense of loyalty to my current boss, who is without question the single best boss I've ever had, in any job I've ever had. I don't want to screw her over by walking away. Mainly because everyone who is connected with my area knows, nobody with a functioning brain would actually volunteer to do my job. Its that bad. So I'm torn.
My job ... to say that I don't have all the tools at my disposal necessary to make it work well, is an understatement. I am an accountant for, uuh, "a major global insurance company". I am the reinsurance accounting department for this company. Its me and me alone here in KC. I have no backup. Literally noone else in the company knows how to do my job. (They've all been "downsized" in the past 18 months). I have no support, outside of two very overworked folks down in another department who try to handle the set-up and customer service aspect of our agreements.
To put this in perspective, at my prior job in reinsurance, we dealt with 15-20 outside "customers". There were 3 of us in accounting, 4 in claims, and about 40 in production. At this job, we deal with 500 plus "customers". There is me to do accounting, and my two co-workers to handle everything else. To say we overwhelmed and under-supported, is a ridiculous understatement.
Because of this arrangement, I usually take the fall whenever anything goes wrong, because I'm the most visible of the three of us. (And of course upper management covers its ass. Because why blame them when its their fault ...) Anyways, this week, we had an issue with issuing a payment that screwed over about 300 of our "customers". They basically didn't get paid for last month's business.
The reason for this is simple: corporate management has refused to authorize anyone in our building with a ceiling high enough to approve the payout. So I have to seek approval for every payment from someone in a different city.
Anyways, this person didn't bother to inform me that he was "leaving the company". And IT didn't disable his email. So for two weeks, I called, emailed, did everything short of hop on a f*cking plane to fly to where he was, wondering why he didn't approve the payment. Finally, we figured out what had happened, we found someone else to quickly sign off on the payment, and got it out the door.
9 days late.
So ... go figure, when the sh*t hit the fan Wednesday afternoon ... upper management unloaded on me. Just absolutely threw me under the proverbial f*cking bus. Because clearly, this is my fault.
I got home from bowling Wednesday night, and I read all the fallout (while working from home for three freaking hours, of course for no pay since I'm "salaried" ...), and I went from angry to enraged. And when I'm enraged ... I'm going on a bender.
Thursday was brutal. By this morning, I'd finally had enough of the email attacks. We had a regularly scheduled month end meeting anyways, and of course, the entire focus was on this missed payment.
If you worked with me at "former employer known for a neat building in the Bay Area", you know that me and Mary, my former boss, had some legendary verbal throw downs. Culminating with that magical verbal screaming match in August 2005 that (literally) the claims department a block away could hear every word of. (Because Brett and JoAnn came over with a "holy f*cking sh*t, they're going to kill each other" look on their faces. That was also the final straw for me in that department, and less than a month later, I was gone for compliance, the single biggest mistake of my life).
Anyways, my point? Yeah, me and my former boss could get into it.
(And yet, the "loudest" we ever got, was when I asked for a meeting with our upper manager regarding Josh. I literally wrote up 18 pages of what I wanted to say (my job was basically hired out from under me because they wanted to move me into a new position, but of course they didn't bother to tell me what their plans were, they just expected me to go with the flow) ... only Mary beat me to the punch, and it was literally a 2 1/2 hour "you're a f*cking idiot to hire him! You f*cked us over! He's a f*cking idiot!" bitch slap of our upper manager. She had my back when it counted. Its probably why we still email all the time. And yes ... I am strongly considering her offer to move to where she's at now and work for her again ...)
OK, so, end of tangent for now. Today was worse than anything me and Mary ever did. At the end of the meeting, we pretty much got everything resolved, but not before I finally snapped and told a divisional manager to "go f*ck yourself". I've never heard a room quiet down so fast. In a "no, he did NOT just say that" kind of silence. And yes, I dropped the "what, do you need me to repeat that?" follow up.
(Follow up: the best part was afterwards, when the VP of our area came up and basically said "I'd have done the same thing. He's an ass". Steve shoots ... and scores! Just not how I really want to at this point ...)
So ... its been a rough week at work. So rough that, knowing I was going to "drink heavily" tonight, I backed out of going to a BBQ tonight because "former roommate" would be there, and given my current financial crunch, the fact that he owes me hundreds of dollars I will probably never see, the free booze, and my week at work ... well, my brother works for the company putting on the BBQ. No sense risking an ugly scene.
Because for me, this weekend is as rough as it gets.
I knew, at some point, that the Chiefs had to play on October 5th. Maybe we'd luck out and get a bye one year, it'd fall on a Monday another year, but eventually, we had to play on this day.
October 5th is a day that just sucks. It absolutely freaking sucks.
October 5, 2004, is a day that I will never forget.
Its the day we officially lost Randy.
I didn't really get to know Randy until I started sitting in section 132 for games 9 years ago. I obviously knew him; he was one of my best friend's dad, he single handedly saved our business plan project junior year in high school when my rambling style of writing would have tanked us. (And we're still waiting on that Neutrogena soap supply ...) But once I moved back here, and moved over to 132 a year later, I got to "know" him.
And what a man he was. Sure, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. We joke to this day in our area about when the Chiefs reach the "Nance, we're out of here!" moment. (For the record, I think he'd have stayed for every second of Sunday's game ... and been there standing, crying right along with me, when the losing streak was snapped. Yeah, Randy hated crappy football from his team ... but he knew the magnitude of the moment when it presented itself. If that makes sense).
The man was the definition of the word "die hard". In the glossary I mention the "When Will Randy Call" game. Didn't matter what the weather was, what our record was, they were in line to get in usually before the Bus arrived. Unreal. I still remember the Lions game in 2003. Its 6:10 in the morning, in the middle of December. Its snowed overnight, its maybe 14 degrees outside. Ridiculous weather conditions. I had just woken up, and was trying to get the coffee pot going. The phone rings. Its Randy --
(steve) (half asleep and hung over) hello?
(randy) Hey! Where you at?
(steve) uuh, at home. Why?
(randy) figured you'd be ready to be out here with us to celebrate already!
(steve) huh?
(note: The Chiefs / Lions game, if we won it, would give us the AFC West championship. I thought that's what he meant).
(randy) really? you're still at home?
(steve) what the hell do you think? Its (looks at the clock) its 6:15 in the f*cking morning!
(randy) then turn on your f*cking TV! (click).
So, I did. Not surprisingly, FOX News was the first channel to appear. And the "Flash" bulletin said it all: "US Forces Capture Hussein".
I just stood there for a solid minute, in awe and amazement. We'd gotten the son of a bitch. I finally started pounding on Gregg's door --
(steve) (pounds on door)
(gregg) (finally wakes up, p*ssed off) WHAT?!?!
(steve) we got him!
(gregg) got who?
(steve) Saddam! We f*cking got him!
(gregg) (sprints out of bed, opens the door, and in record setting speed, heads for the TV in the main room ...)
The tailgating that day was just surreal. Everyone in the parking lot had the radio, or the TV, tuned to ... news. The music wasn't blaring. The pregame show wasn't blaring. It was ... news. (I can't believe I'm about to say this ...) some things are bigger than the Chiefs winning a division title. Catching a thug who murdered a million plus people, is one of those things.
(Guess I just officially dropped the "D" off my voter card ...)
I could dwell on the depression games, but I'd rather remember his final game, the Texans in 2004.
After the previous two tailgates, when he was withdrawn, distant, very reserved, not what we knew ... the Texans tailgate was the Randy we knew and loved. The game itself, was the Randy I knew and loved.
I should have known. I should have seen it coming. I commented to my dad that night after the game "Randy seemed like Randy today". I should have known by his exit.
Yes, he finally reached the "Nance, grab your stuff, we're leaving" moment. Only ... it wasn't with the usual anger, frustration, "why did I pay $70 plus dollars to watch this sh*t" frustration.
He took the time to say goodbye to everyone. He purposely said goodbye. He'd made his decision.
The last time I ever spoke to him was driving home after the Chiefs road win at Baltimore on October 4th (a Monday night game to temporarily save the season). He called me as I was driving home from ... amazingly enough, the place I live today, Dusty's. I wish I could recall the specifics of the phone call. I vaguely recall I took the call close to State Line and 435, and said goodbye and good night around K10 and K7. So I think it was a good final conversation. But wow. If I'd only picked up on it. If I'd only known.
The next day, October 5th, was a beautiful early fall afternoon. High 70s and sunny as I recall. It was at least decent. I was talking with Vineet on my cell when the house phone rang at 7:49pm. I saw it was Gregg's mom on the caller ID, and told Vineet I'd call him back, and answered the call. Bonnie asked for Gregg. She sounded really upset. Fearing it was Gordon, I got Gregg and left the room, heading down to the hottub part of the deck, in case the worst had happened to his dad and he needed a moment or three.
I had half of that right.
I heard a pounding sound, like someone smashing their fist on the counter. I headed back up, prepared to offer my condolences ... only, for the wrong person.
Gregg just looked at me, tears in his eyes ... and I guess I just knew. Randy was gone. By his own choosing.
G headed for Jasson's that night. To this day, I wish I had. Its my biggest regret in life, that I chose to reflect, rather than react. I saw Jasson the next day, and all I could do was hug him and wish him the best. I couldn't bring myself to cry yet.
The rest of the week ... from every tragedy, can come triumph. That Friday night, at Nancy's, just the "core group". Nance, Gregg, me, Jasson and Tara, Russ and Mona. If I remember right, Jenni was the 8th person there. Weather was an issue that Friday night, it was supposed to be a "friends only" night to remember Randy before the services that weekend. The rain delayed everyone coming in from elsewhere. To this day ... I thank God it rained that night. I mean that, sincerely. I'm not a religious person ... but God clearly had a hand on that night. We needed a night to grieve. As a "family". Which "we" are. And God gave it to us, as only he could.
The night ended at about 2am. I was meeting Anthony to go to the Busch race in the morning. I still had not shed a tear. Even after hugging Nancy, embracing my buddy Jasson ... on the drive home with Gregg, I even noted that. I haven't cried yet. What the hell is wrong with me?
The race was ... a boozefest. I drank far more than I should have. (shocking). So much that I missed KU finally beating ksu that night in football, on John Randle's 3 touchdowns.
Sunday was the wake. I had never been to anything more depressing in my life ... and my buddy James (as recapped in the quiz answers) had died 6 weeks earlier. Still, not a tear. Not one tear out of my eyes. I was beginning to think I simply had no heart.
Monday, the funeral. I was asked to be a pallbearer, along with Gregg, Bill Turner, Anthony (different from the race buddy), and two people I forget. We arrive at the funeral home in North KC. Hugs, handshakes, greetings exchanged.
My dad took the day off to attend. I saw him walk in, and for the first time, I had some emotion. Russ and Mona embrace my dad, as do Gregg's folks. As we head off into a "huddle", I simply say this:
"I don't know what's wrong with me. I haven't cried yet".
Mona ... puts it all in perspective:
"You will. When its your time, you will".
The service was just an amazing tribute to an amazing man. Yet I still didn't cry. Somehow I got through Danny's unbelievable, uplifting eulogy without shedding a tear. (And he did as well. I have no idea how he held it together, other than "God had mercy on us". His eulogy was just inspirational. He totally captured the spirit of Randy. God love ya Danny. And for once, I'm not dropping the Biden God Love Ya line as a joke ...)
As the final moments approached, and the mourners comforting the family commenced, "Amazing Grace" with the bagpipes played as the background music.
I saw my dad console Nancy and Jasson, and kind of choked up.
I saw Gordon pause at the coffin, and release his emotions ... and started to get choked up.
I embraced Jasson and Tara, and Austin and Ashton, and Nancy ... and choked up again.
I saw Randy for the final time ... and choked up again.
But still no tears.
Until I walked past the coffin, made the left turn back to the main aisle, entered said main aisle ...
And there was Mona waiting at the end of it.
It was my time to grieve.
I literally started bawling the second I saw her. I didn't stop crying for a solid 15 minutes. Me and Mona, just consoling each other, at the end of the aisle. Eventually others joined us.
My point, as depressing as it is ... I guess, is this:
To this day, when I walk into Arrowhead, and reach my seat, the first thing I do after exchanging greetings with the neighbors, is pat Section 132, row 25, seat 1's, uuh, seat. Pat it like I was patting someone on the back. I don't know why. Actually, I do know why. I'm welcoming my friend to today's game. I've done it every game since the first one without him, the Falcons game in 2004. Its one of those traditions that just makes sense to me, I guess. Like Gregg sticking gum underneath his seat to start the season, or sitting in 22 even though his ticket is for 21. (Or the inverse of that, I forget which it is).
So to close ... I think its probably fitting, that on the drive home today, right as 435 hits its usual parking lot status between Nall and Roe ... that I was flipping through the channels on the Sirius receiver. I started on Hits 1. I don't remember what was on, but junk. StarLite 2 wasn't worth it. I almost never stop on Love 3, and just jump to Movin EZ 4. And just starting was the opening of what I consider to be the single most depressing song of all time, "Same Old Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg.
I know, I'm a freaking sap, and you can start the "Steve's gay / Steve's a loser / Steve's a (woman's body part that rhymes with "sussy")" jokes now ... but I always tear up listening to that song. That song just gets to me.
It seemed a fitting start to this weekend.
I guess some things matter more than football. The memory of Randy, our friend, our pal, our tailgating buddy, our Arrowhead neighbor ...
my second father ...
That's what counts in this life.
If this whole post depressed you, I'm sorry. But Sunday, its personal for me. October 5th is personal for me. For a lot of you as well.
So come Sunday, keep the amazing, incredible, indefatible Nancy in your prayers. (And please. Call her. Let her know we not only remember ... we care). Keep the "old" generation in your prayers. Gordon, Bonnie, Danny, Debbie, Phil, Christy. Keep Russ and Mona in your prayers. Keep those of us of the "next" generation, Gregg, Jenni, Jason, Steve, Conrad. Sadie, Ivan, Drew, in you prayers. Keep the generation coming up, Luke, Trent, (the amazingly awesome) Ayden, in your prayers.
Some things matter more than a football game. As some of us so painfully found out 4 short years ago this weekend.
Or as Dan Fogelberg put it:
"We drank a toast to innocence,
We drank a toast to now;
We tried to reach beyond the emptiness,
But neither one knew how;
We drank a toast to innocence,
We drank a toast to time;
Living in our eloquence,
Another Old Lang Syne ...
The beer was empty, and our tongues were tired,
Running out of things to day ...
She gave a kiss to me as I got out,
And I watched her drive away ..."
Randy ... I will always miss you. I will miss the phone calls. I will miss the cones saving spots. I will miss you telling the parking folks they "majored in asshole 101".
I will ... miss you.
My friend.
My friend. What more needs to be said.
My friend. I thank God you're someplace better than where we are, (the highest compliment I can pay someone ...) I thank God you are someplace better than we are, tito ...
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