Category: Social

The Man Who Brought A Tire Into the Library

Published on by jkblog2013Leave a comment

Lately, I’ve been going to my local library to check out books that pertain to the subject of metaphysics. Most of the books I have been reading are on the introduction of metaphysics or guidance on meditation. I recently had to return a book when I started a conversation with a former colleague. I was a librarian for 18 years and changed profession a few years ago. In this particular afternoon, I was asked if I miss working at the library. I was honest and said “Yes, at times.” I then shared an story about a patron who brought in a tire into the library.

I always found working in a public library to be interesting. There was never a dull day at the library because the staff and I would encounter all walks of life. It’s a public setting and everyone is welcome. When I became a manager, I had to be at the forefront whenever there were issues. I could be dealing with an issue regarding fines on a late item or items or worse, a problem patron.

I have many stories on problem patrons. However, the one that stuck out to me that afternoon involved a regular patron. This patron decided to bring a used tire into the library. I’ll call him Mr. Patron for this story.

I was in my office when I got a call about Mr. Patron. He was sitting at the computer desk and had a car tire laying next to him. This part of the library had a narrow hallway and his tire was blocking access to the other computer desks. I remember feeling puzzled. Why was he allowed in with that tire? I learned, as a manager, some staff members do not want to confront a patron. They would rather have the manager deal with it. To be fair, the staff member who called me, was very proactive but needed my assistance to de-escalate the situation. That staff member had just started her rotation at the desk. The previous staff member overlooked the situation.

When I arrived, I was shocked to see a pretty big tire laying on the ground while Mr. Patron was on the computer. The staff member who called me tried to get him to take the tire outside. Mr. Patron did not want to move the tire. I asked to speak to Mr. Patron privately and he immediately got defensive. He stated that he needed that tire because he and his friends at the shelter were buying a van. They thought it would be great to keep this tire as a spare for their future purchase. I listened to Mr. Patron until he was calm. Then I explained to him the rules of behavior for patrons in the library. I specifically referred to items that could interfere with access for other patrons.

To give some background on Mr. Patron, he was a regular at the library. Sometimes we had to ask him to leave for multiple reasons. He was someone who could either be receptive to being asked to leave or he would get very angry. I knew that I could not laugh or say anything that would be disrespectful to Mr. Patron. I knew that I had de-escalate the situation and I did not want to rush to call the police. I knew that if I spoke to him in a calm manner and listened, we could come to a resolution.

I was glad he wasn’t combative that day. To my surprise, he did seem receptive to moving the tire outside of the library. We had a lobby area. I suggested that he move it there. This way, he could see it from where he was sitting. He was afraid someone might steal it. I did not think the tire would be stolen. However, I was concerned that someone would report the tire to the maintenance crew for removal. I made sure to let my co-workers know that we were going to let Mr. Patron leave his tire there until he was done with his computer time. He sat at his computer for about 20 minutes and left the library. He took his tire and we did not see him the rest of the day.

Mr. Patron did try to come back the next couple of days with his tire. Again, I told him that we could not have him bring the tire inside. He was not happy about it but those were the rules. Eventually, he came back to the library by himself with no tire.

I looked back at that moment. I realized how much that tire meant to him. I did not invalidate his claim or logic. That is his truth and I respected it. I could have dismissed him without reasoning. However, I felt he needed someone to understand. I also knew that we had to come to a resolution.

Why am I writing about this?

For a week I thought about why I mentioned this story that afternoon. I was wondering, why is this running in my head, how does this relate to my last three posts?

I am starting to come to the realization on which direction I want to go on my spiritual journey. I am fascinated by spiritual gifts that people receive either through a near death experience or through another channel. I find that when someone tells me their story, I listen and I sincerely believe in everything they tell me. I want them to understand that they are not alone. If my purpose is to bring that information out, then that is what I would like to do. I want to help anyone who has the same experience but has no one to talk to. To bring those stories out and to create a community that helps with learning more about these gifts.

I will share more as I embark on this project. I hope to share this with anyone that reads my blog posts.

Routine Fly Ball

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A routine fly ball in a baseball game is one reason for my spiritual awakening. Not exactly the path that you normally hear about. A single baseball opened my eyes to something bigger.

As a child, I found sports to be a chore. Every fall and spring, my mother would sign up my brothers and I to play soccer. My older brother was very talented and would score goals. He was celebrated for carrying his team. My younger brother emulated him and he too scored goals. Me? I wasn’t scoring goals. The pressure to score was too much. I didn’t like it, so I pivoted to basketball and track & field.

Basketball and track & field boosted my confidence. Although I struggled with basketball, making a basket always felt good. Track & field is where I found my stride. I realized that I had quick reaction and a burst of speed. I enjoyed track meets as I felt like I could beat anyone.

My confidence grew with track & field so much so that I decided to give soccer another shot. I played better as a defender and my reaction was much quicker. I started to play other sports realizing that I could use my speed to my advantage. For the most part it worked but at times but would get frustrated in learning the fundamentals of each sport. Speed is only one aspect of each sport.

I’m not going to rehash everything about my sports career. However, I will say that when I was sprinting, there were times where I felt I was flying. It is hard to describe. My feet would touch the ground slightly for a gentle push. It almost felt like I was weightless during that movement. At times I would feel this and it felt like things would oddly slow down. I loved that feeling but if I happened to trip up, the fall would be long and painful.

Compressed with JPEG Optimizer 3.01, http://www.xat.com

The Animatrix’s World Record

Many people are aware of the movie, The Matrix. Before the sequel’s release, an animated movie titled the Animatrix came out. It had a series of animated shorts that provided some background to the story behind the Matrix. One of my favorite episodes of the Animatrix is World Record. I bring this up to give context on my baseball story. This episode always resonated with me and I always attributed it to running track & field.

In this story, the main character is trying to break the world record in the 100 meters. There is suspicion of cheating. He wants to prove to the world that he can break the record without doping. There is some discussion about the main character not running in the race. In the end, he decides to compete.

In the race, he starts off well but his leg muscles begins to tear as he’s running. Determined, he pushes through and continues the race. As he’s in the lead, he again deals with issues with his legs. However, he continues running. He runs to the point where he gets out of the Matrix. He wakes up in his pod and then he ends up back in his mind, running the race. Right before he crosses the finish line, the agents attempt to stop him from breaking the record. He wins the race breaking the world record but is clearly injured once he clears the finish line.

In the end, he’s in a wheelchair being pushed by a nurse. The agent who chased him, confirms that he will never walk again and that his memory has been wiped. At some point, the main character says, “Free” and starts to get up. The agent then says to get back down and the main character defies everything that the agent has said.

The Fly Ball – The Moment Everything Changed

I decided to start playing baseball at age 40. I love baseball. Even though I played softball in my 20s and 30s, I always felt empty for not attempting to play baseball. I signed up in a men’s recreational league and figured, why not take a chance now?

I felt like a kid again, but not in an exciting way. This feeling was similar to when I first started playing soccer. I was nervous to say the least. I always felt confident hitting the ball but playing in the field, I was lost. I tried to play right field. Right field is the area where the weakest defenders go to play. However, the manager wanted me in left field or center field. If the ball was in the air, mentally I would be freaking out about making the catch. If the ball was hit into the outfield and it was out of reach, I reacted with no hesitation. I would retrieve the ball and throw it back to the infielder. In other words, if the ball was not catchable, I felt relief.

Many times, I would either give up trying to catch the ball if it was in front of me. If the ball was coming in my direction, I would hesitate to attempt to catch it because I would be in my head thinking about avoiding making a mistake. If I did make an attempt, the ball would drop out of my glove when making the catch. It’s weird. I felt the pressure of catching a fly ball. It was made worse when I can see my teammates looking to see if I made the catch. If I did make a catch, I would feel great. My confidence would rise. But in baseball, everything is unpredictable. I always knew that the routine fly ball, would always give me trouble!

Everything changed in one game. I was in center field and I remember our pitcher was in a jam. There were no outs and he walked the first two hitters. The next batter hit a ball with a loud crack of the bat. It louder than normal and I failed to pick up on this. The ball was going far. I backed up and backed up. I misplayed the ball and fell down in the process. I remember the ball landing not very far from where I fell. I knew I was close but should have been further back to make the catch. The ball was catchable but I misplayed it badly and was embarrassed. I also could tell that the pitcher wanted the out and I felt worse.

The hitter ended up with a triple on that play. The next batter hit a line drive and ended up at first base with an RBI single. At that point, I was upset because I felt like I just allowed 3 runs on my mistake. So I told myself that I’m going to catch the next ball that comes my way. What came next was unbelievable.

I got in this weird space in my head. I was upset but also focused to make up for my bad defense. The next batter got into the box. I sensed someone was telling me to run to right field for the next play. The hitter was on the right side of the plate. Normally, when a hitter is on that side, as a center fielder you line up closer to left field. They tend to pull the ball. I played it the opposite as if someone was guiding me.

As soon as the pitcher threw the ball, it was like someone had told me to “GO!”. I immediately took off, the batter hit the ball to right field. I immediately saw the ball and thought it was out of reach. I took a sigh of relief. Then, I ran after the ball expecting to pick it up from the ground. The weird thing about this experience was that I ran at full speed and pivoted to run towards the outfield wall. After changing direction, everything began to slow down. I didn’t have any thoughts in my head.

I saw the ball from the corner of my eye. From the moment I pivoted, I was now chasing the ball. As I was running, the ball was getting closer and closer to me. It was as if the ball was floating in the air slowly waiting for me to catch it. I put my glove up and reached up to catch the ball. The ball landed in my glove and I stopped. Everything felt surreal. I couldn’t believe I caught the ball! I stared at my glove for a split second when the right fielder, immediately yelled, “GREAT CATCH!”. I was stunned just as he was. The runner on 1st base was running towards home plate not realizing that I made the catch. My second baseman also was stunned and didn’t realize I made the catch. I threw the ball back to him. He didn’t know what to do. Everyone on the field yelled at him to throw the ball to 1st base. He even said, “He caught the ball???”

I then realized everyone on the field saw something crazy. The batter was awestruck. The runner couldn’t believe it, the opposing team couldn’t believe it and my team was ecstatic! The second baseman threw to first base and got the double play. Everyone was like, “Great catch!” I was stunned and was like, what just happened??? Who told me to go? How did I know the ball would go into an area? Even the runner who was on 1st base didn’t bother to run back to 1st as he was rounding third base. He was so sure it was a hit, he didn’t hesitate to try to score, he just ran home.

Below is a diagram of the play.

Here is my hand-made diagram of the play. The red line is the path of the baseball. The blue line is how I ran towards the ball. I ran to right field and then made a mental sigh of relief when I thought the ball was not within reach so I pivoted to catch the ball. FYI – THIS IS NOT THE ROUTE YOU TAKE TO CATCH A BALL LIKE THIS!
I ran right after the pitch was thrown. I reacted once the ball was in the air.

I wished there was a way to see the replay. I wanted to see if it was just a regular play in my head or was it something more. I realized it was something more. The manager even told me, “Wow, you got on your horse for that one!” Everyone high-fived me when the half inning was over. I knew this would be a play for maybe a major leaguer. A very well-seasoned center fielder could make that catch if they knew the hitter would go opposite field but I ran as soon as the pitch was thrown.

Who does that?

That memory stayed with me. I didn’t react to the ball. I was told which way to go before the pitcher threw his pitch. I could have made a bad decision if that ball would have gone to left field or even center. I was stunned that the ball just hung up there and that I felt this weightless feeling again.

What was that?

Four years later, I now realize spirit was with me and helped me. It was like the movie Angels in the Outfield. I got an assist, maybe they even carried me to the ball or they purposely hung the ball up in the air.

I don’t know.

Maybe I somehow had the ability of an ascended master for a few seconds where anything is possible. I know something special happened and there were witnesses to see it. Did I become a great fielder because of this?

Nope.

I still dropped fly balls and had misplays on the field. I didn’t unlock a new skill. I understand that I saw something more. It is similar to the World Record episode of the Animatrix. I don’t have answer to it and I am not looking to solve it.

Even after the “Hand of God” catch, the manager benched me for the next inning. Everyone on my team laughed because they saw an amazing catch that was not rewarded. Honestly, I laughed it off. It didn’t matter. I felt something amazing. It was something I couldn’t really describe in the moment but it was amazing. Super human is the word that comes to mind.

I like to look back at this moment for my personal evidence that there is more to this world than we will possibly ever know. I also acknowledge it because the evidence is never where you expect it to be and this baseball game was it for me.

An SOS – Seeking Guidance on Spiritual Growth

Published on by jkblog2013Leave a comment

I’ve come to terms that God/Source/Spirit is with me. It is not easy for me to write this. I’ve held the idea of God at the back of my mind. It was locked away and never to be discussed. I’ve always thought of myself as an atheist. All of that changed a year ago. Since that time, I have changed my views with spirituality. I have neglected my website and it has been a year since I posted anything. I actually started to write this draft about a year ago. I thought I was ready to write about my spiritual awakening but I never got past four sentences. A year later, I realize I am ready to be honest about my introduction my spiritual journey. Because I am still at the beginning of my journey, I hope whoever reads this can offer clarity and guidance.

Near Death Experience (NDE)Videos

Believe it or not but YouTube was how my spiritual awakening unraveled. My wife was getting into her spiritual journey at the beginning of 2023. I would support her but I had no intentions to join her. I was very reluctant to watch some of the videos on topics regarding spirituality. She would share with me what she learned and how she wanted me to watch them with her as well. I initially watched these with a very low level of interest. She finally got me to watch interviews of those who experienced Near Death Experiences (NDEs). When I finally gave in and started watching some of the videos, the interviewees described journeys to places beyond Earth. They would all say that those places felt more “real” than life on Earth. More “real” than Earth? How is that possible?

Some interviewees talked about popping out of their bodies and seeing their physical body. They described seeing people around them during the near death experience. They could hear the thoughts of everyone around them. I thought, “Wow, how cool would it be to hear people’s thoughts and to fly around!” Then they would talk about transporting to another place. Either by a tunnel or by some sort of portal or white light. Of course, I was very skeptical at this time. I wasn’t really taking any of this seriously. However, I was curious. That’s what would drive me to watch the entire video. I also requested that my wife only show me videos that were no more than 15 minutes long. I did not want to watch long drawn out videos. I feared these videos were trying convince me to join a church or to lure me into joining a weird group. I also had the expectation of seeing some religious text. No thanks!

During these interviews, people would talk about their journey to a new plane of existence. Some would call it heaven, others just called it a connection to spirit or “home”. I would watch their stories. Some commonalities were that they experienced a “Life Review.” They would watch and re-live an experience from their past. They would experience perspectives from everyone involved. For example, if they hurt someone, they would feel the pain that they gave to the other person. Or if they gave money to someone in need, they would feel the other person’s relief. They would also feel the joy it gave them. For the most part, they re-lived the hurt they gave someone. And that was for a reason, for them to understand that they need to change how they interact with others. In these moments of the videos, I honestly thought about my life review. I questioned what it would look like. I realized that I don’t want to go through it. I also would mentally roll my eyes about the lessons that given. In this realm, the people with the NDEs, would talk to loved ones or would have conversations with their angels. They all said that they felt this immense love that could not be described. They were given information that was necessary and were given a choice of coming back to Earth. They all came back but they all stated that they did want to stay. I would get tripped out by the fact that they wanted to stay but knew they had to come back. But what stuck with me after watching the videos is that they seemed sad to be back on Earth. They couldn’t really share this information about their experience with everyone. Even those who would talk to doctors and nurses would get a cold shoulder which made me sympathetic to them.

My wife would find more videos for me to watch. I would either dismiss them or view them after dinner. She would convince me about how good the video was when she saw it earlier in the day. So I would watch. The one NDE video that struck me was that of an atheist who nearly died. His experience was very much the same as everyone else who had an NDE. I resonated with his story when he talked about his reluctance to religion and God. He talked about how dismissive he was to anyone who would approach him with any hint of religion or God. His experience in the other realm was similar with a life review and I believe he talked to an angel. He came back to Earth with a knowing that we are all a part of God. He mentioned how he came back to Earth with more compassion. Although he did not become extremely religious, he no longer saw himself as an Atheist. He knew where we come from and where we go after this life. He had a peace with him and I immediately started to look for similar stories.

“I would like to have an NDE!”

I found the videos inspiring and I found them cool. It made me even say, “I would like to have an NDE!”. My wife would laugh and told me that she would believe me if I did have one. Later, I saw a YouTube video where a woman had an NDE as a baby. She did not realize that she had one until her brother told her about that experience. After watching that video I realized I may have had one. I felt like it may have happened to me.

There was always a family story about how I fell down the stairs twice as a baby. My brothers would make fun of me for falling down. I was learning to walk and I was in a baby walker when I fell down the basement stairs. I don’t remember any of it. The first time I fell, my mother was aware of it and had freaked out. The second time, my mother was at work. My dad covered it up so my mom wouldn’t know about it. Some time later, my older brother accidentally told my mom. He revealed that I had fallen down a second time. Of course, she was angry with my dad. While telling my wife the story, I suddenly recalled something important. My family mentioned I had passed out in one of those falls. I came to the conclusion that that I may have indeed had an NDE! This was an ongoing story that I remembered as a kid and teen. I hated hearing these stories because it made me feel like such a klutz even though I was just a baby!

I became curious about that whole event. I called my older brother and he told me a version of the story I had never heard before. He said that I passed out during the first fall. My mother immediately rushed to grab me and he saw my body limp. My mother ran upstairs and ran outside of the house hysterical. According to my brother, she was screaming and yelling outside of the house. He remembers her saying, “They took my baby! God, please help me!” At some point, while I was in her arms, I came to. My brother stated that he saw me my legs kick out and that I had started crying at that point. My mother was relieved. So it was no surprise that she would be very upset knowing that this happened again. Sidenote, there is a door leading to the basement. My parents had rented out the basement room to my uncle and aunt. Someone accidentally left the door open, hence why I fell, twice.

After talking to my older brother, I called my mother about this story. She recounted it, she got very emotional talking about it. I felt bad for bringing it up. However, it gave me confirmation that I potentially had an NDE as a child. I was just a toddler! Of course, if I did have an NDE, I don’t remember it. In the YouTube videos, people who experienced an NDE would sometimes say they felt gone for a long time. This was even though they were gone for only a few minutes on Earth. So I wonder, how long was I gone for?

Dreaming – Is it a gift?

I came to the conclusion as to why I had very vivid dreams growing up. It was most likely the result of an NDE. Becoming aware of this event made me understand some of the things I dealt with as a child. I was always confused by my déjà vu dreams. These moments from these déjà vu dreams would happen within a couple of days. They were so vivid that I couldn’t understand why I was having them.

I remember as a 6 year old trying to explain them to my parents. I would dream about myself and the people I was around. A few days later, it felt like I had been here all along. I wanted them to help me. They weren’t bad dreams but they were dreams of the near future. As I got older, I started having fewer déjà vu dreams. However, when the moments would come to fruition, there was an intense dream recall. Almost a reminder that I still had those type of dreams. I would also have odd experiences that I could only attribute to the paranormal. Yet, I always knew I had something special. It felt like I can attract more that what’s in the physical plane. I kept these things to myself. Sometimes, I shared them with my siblings when they talked about certain weird things they noticed.

I could talk more about my experiences growing up in my parent’s house but I’ll save that for another time. Fast forward to now. I only remember having had one lucid dream when I was a teenager. I’ve had four lucid dreams this year and I’m trying to figure out how to “do” it again. In all four of these dreams, an event made me realize I was in a dream. I have tried to use some of the same triggers but they don’t seem to work. I have been reading more books than I ever have. In the past, I read only when it was necessary. Now I’m reading a lot of books about spiritual growth and how to heal. I have joined a metaphysical church and am learning about gifts that people have. I want to learn more about these gifts and to find my own gift. I’m guessing that my gift might be that of dreams or dreaming. Dream Incubation has been mentioned to me. I think tapping into that would be my goal as well as others. There are so many things that I have learned over the last year and a half. I will use this time to write and share with whoever wants to read.

I am sending an SOS. This is to those who have begun their journey like me. It is also for those who have been on their journey for some time. It is for those who would like to share some wisdom and knowledge. I am a believer that we are all the same and we are of love. I am loved, you are loved, we are all loved. With that energy, everything becomes better. I just want to stay in that mindset. I also want to keep my heart open. If you’re out there and see this SOS, say hello.

Heartbroken David Just Lost 7 Years of his life

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Season 4 of 90 Day Fiance: Before the 90 Days gets more annoying and frustrating week to week. Again, I’m stuck on this train wreck until after the Tell All. This week I’ll profile David who seems confused as to why his girlfriend Lana keeps standing him up. Why don’t his friends just tell him, “Hey David, she’s not real!” Or “Hey David, that chat room looks like it was created during the AOL chat room days and you shouldn’t trust it.” A part of me feels bad for him for traveling Pavlohrad but then apart of me is hopeful he finds Lana or some dude named Lana.

Who looks sadder? Drake or David? David because he just wasted 7 years. Drake wasted 5 years chasing Rhi Rhi. At least Drake got on Rihanna’s hit list. 😉

Last night’s show left us with a cliffhanger of David actually going to the address Lana had given him for their cruise that she never showed up to. I’m going to guess that it’s going to be an old lady who’s going to be like, “Who are you? No I don’t know that chick!!!” (in Russian) and slam the door in his face. Then David will go home and still try to find Lana on chat. Then say something dumb like, “I don’t get why Lana would do this to me.” Predictable right! Thanks TLC!

Here’s what should happen:

David takes a page from the movie Taken! He goes around Pavlohrad looking for Lana. He manages to find a number that’s associated with Lana. He speaks to a bad guy and says, “I’m going to find you asshole!” Then the bad guy will say, “Good luck American asshole!”. David reconnects with his tech buddies in the US who help him find the hideout of the Russian mob where he barges in with guns blazing. David finds the bad guy from the phone call, who confesses that Lana is not real and was a model he used from time to time. David doesn’t believe the bad guy and shoots him dead. As he’s about to leave the hideout, he sees a woman that resembles Lana. He begins following this mysterious woman then gets hit in the head. Fade to black. David loses most of his memory but remembers that he’s looking for his girlfriend Lana. A Russian cop helps him look for Lana. It turns out the cop uses David to kill people for him while fooling him that he’s close to finding Lana. Now if you’re like, this sounds like the movie Taken and Memento put together, it’s because it is! (Sounds like the movie Bloodshot as well)

Pretty much sums up David.

In conclusion, as exciting it would be to see David take justice into his hands, it won’t happen. Maybe he will meet Yolanda during the Tell All and they will hit it off. As sad and depressing it is to see Yolanda chase Williams, this would be a welcoming sight, David and Yolanda connecting based on their delusions! It worked in Silver Linings Playbook! Good luck David. One word of advice, next time give the roses and champagne to a couple that deserve it, don’t be selfish to wallow in misery. Be like Drake, get on the hit list first then chase her.

  • It’s 3:56pm.

Dear Yolanda From 90 Day Fiancé , REVERSE IMAGE SEARCH!!!

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The recent season of 90 Day Fiancé : Before the 90 Days is one of the most frustrating shows to watch on TLC and unfortunately, I’m sticking it out till the end. There are many reasons to get annoyed with the show but today I’m going to start with Yolanda. If Yolanda is not able to figure it out herself, I’m pretty sure that her daughter knows how to do a reverse image search. The problem, the producers! The producers of the show want to drag out this catfish for as long as possible. I am sure they can do a reverse image search and quickly figure out who the man in the pictures. So who is Williams and why drag it out?

Here are my two theories:

Theory 1: They are going to bring in the real person, the real “Williams” for the Tell All at the end of the season. Maybe Yolanda will finally snap out of it and realize that she’s been catfished. Reality will set in. Yolanda may not know how to handle the truth. She might go into full denial mode like Leonardo DiCaprio’s character in Shutter Island. Then TLC will do a show about Yolanda getting help on dealing with such a tragic reality in hopes of finding her a new love. Or they just might invite her back for another season like Darcey.

The real “Williams” will show up at the Tell All. Yolanda will be like, “But it’s you Williams, you’re the man I’ve been talking”, only to slapped by the host.

Theory #2: My hope is with theory #2. I hope TLC sets up Yolanda with David. They both live in Nevada, they both love emoji’s, and they both were smitten with the idea of meeting a model. These two belong together and TLC should do a spin off of these two fallen love birds only to bring them together and hopefully to marriage. If that’s not in the plans for TLC, then what are you doing???

This is the prequel to the Yolanda and David love story.
TLC’s next big hit!

In conclusion, end Yolanda’s story because there is no love at the end of this tunnel and quite frankly, it’s annoying and SAD!!! Let’s shine the light on the other couples that are becoming dumpster fires.

The Tragic Fate of the Writing Group

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I mentioned in the Pandemic Blues blog that my passion for writing stopped while I was living in Texas. There were times where my writing would come back and then I would abruptly stop. In 2006, I had moved to a new apartment in Southwest Houston. It was the first time I was living on my own and I remember it was a very lonely period in my life. I had no family in Texas and most of my friends were through my ex-girlfriend or co-workers. I was still communicating with my ex-girlfriend and we kept tabs on each other for a few years until I moved to Washington D.C. She had always suggested I get back into writing and suggested using Meetup.com to meet with a writing group. After procrastinating, I went on Meetup.com and met with a writing group that focused on poetry. The organizer of the writing group didn’t live too far from me and I was curious to see what this writing group was going to be like.

When I first moved to Houston, my ex-girlfriend got into the Creative Writing program at the University of Houston. Meeting the professors and other student writer was intimidating. I felt outmatched and didn’t understand why. Now, I realize I didn’t have the life experience and dedication to the craft as those students. Most of the students in her class were older and seemed to have had lived in independence for some time before being accepted to the program. I wasn’t ready for the program in 2004. Fast forward to the meet up group, I met John, the organizer, in the summer of 2006. John was a blue collar worker who had retired and was looking to start a writing group that focused mainly on poetry. He had the meet up at his home and introduced me to his pets. His dog was named, Mr. Dog, and his cat was named, Mrs. Cat. lol. I am not making that up. I thought it was interesting that he hadn’t given them a nickname or just a name outside of Mr. Dog or Mrs. Cat. John was very direct and had taken a poetry class prior to starting the meet up. John had confessed to me and the group that for the first time in his life, he was embracing his creativity and wanted to explore poetry. I thought it was admirable and I connected to John because I wanted to regain my lost creativity. There were three other people who jointed the group. There was another gentleman from Miami who wanted to write again and was okay with doing poetry as a medium. He had written poetry but never shared with a writing group. There was a woman who was a fan of Rumi and wanted to express her poetry to a group. There was another young guy around my age and had wanted to give poetry a try.

In the first meet up, we introduced each other and then we gave copies of our first poem to workshop to the group. Outside of that, I don’t remember much of our first meeting outside of feeling good afterwards. I remember looking forward to writing something new for the next meet up and for the first time, felt empowered to speak up with this group. I am not sure if it was because I didn’t feel intimidated with them or that this meeting felt less structured than your typical college writing workshop where the professor dictated the rules and regulations. I kid about the regulations, but I do remember one poetry professor getting angry at a student for writing poetry in essay form with paragraphs. I remember she flat out told him, we weren’t reading his work because of his formatting. I digress. I started to get to know everyone in the group and I remember John loved to do rhymes in his poetry. Although it was forced and a basic rhyme structure, it did make me want to incorporate some rhyming structure to my poetry. The guy from Miami loved to do poetry that was based on settings and the feel of being by the beach. The lady who loved Rumi was good at performing her poetry. We did have a discussion on how her performance was great but it didn’t translate on paper. She seemed annoyed with my criticism. I don’t remember much of the other guy who was in the class but he seemed pretty cool. We spent the rest of the summer meeting at John’s house. We all took turns in bringing snacks and even found snacks for Mr. Dog and Mrs. Cat.

Enter Lady X! I looked up angry old lady and this picture reminded me of her.

Everything was pretty cool until the Fall of 2006. A new member showed up to a meet up in late September. She seemed very friendly when we introduced ourselves to her and seemed very motivated to share her work with us. We began our workshop as usual, passed around the snacks, and then things went downhill really fast. I believe we were workshopping John’s new poem. I believe it was the Rumi lady that said, “Oh John, I would totally steal the line.” and shared with the group how much she loved it. We all understood what that meant except for the new lady, whom I’ll call, Lady X. I remember everyone was impressed with John’s improvement until Lady X raised her hand and said something that shook the group. She said, “Well I hope you wouldn’t steal his line! I don’t think that’s right at all.” Rumi lady clarified what she meant by “stealing the line” meant. I also defended her and stated it was a good line, nobody was actually stealing her line. Lady X seemed to calm down after that. Once we got to Lady X’s turn, she read her first poem, and we all took turns criticizing her work. I remember it being constructive criticism. Lady X took it personal. Lady X started to be defiant and stated that she didn’t feel comfortable sharing her work with her group. She then went on to let us know that if anyone “stole” her work or lines, would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. She then told us that she was a “published” poet and took out a certificate from Poetry.com. I wanted to laugh at that moment. She was so serious about her published work. I then told her, “You know, you have to pay to publish your own work on Poetry.com right?” She was insulted by remark. I then started telling her that anyone can call themselves a published poet by paying for it. She then began to insult the rest of the group and said she didn’t feel comfortable with the group. She felt attacked and immediately left the house. We were all in shock. Her tirade lasted about 10-15 minutes. The rest of the group were shocked by everything that had happened and how it escalated quickly. We all left that John’s house that night and none of us thought this would be the last time we would ever see each other. The next day Lady X had emailed the group repeating the same sentiments from the house. John tried to diffuse the situation and unfortunately that enraged her more. As a group, we were shocked and thought she would have stopped but she continued.

John decided to stop the meet up. He didn’t feel comfortable meeting at his home and Lady X seemed to point her vitriol at John. I always wondered if she thought John was me because John never said anything to her in the house but who knows. Nobody stepped up to take over and I didn’t either. I could have looked at meeting rooms in libraries near me but I never got proactive. It all stopped with Lady X. Looking back, I feel sad that we never continued. I did invite John to my 27th birthday party. I had a kickball themed party. Very much like a Texan, John came to my birthday ready to play and made sure to bring his 6 pack. He didn’t mind playing kickball with people twenty years younger than him. He was the last person from that group that I saw after that. 14 years later, I sometimes wonder if things would have continued had Lady X not showed up or if I stepped up to take over. I wonder if it have jumpstarted me to writing again. For that brief period, I remember feeling the joy of writing and not feeling alone.

Finding an Audience

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In 2014, I would go to an open mic named Hot Broth just about every Thursday night. It was a small black box theater in a deteriorating 90’s era mall. I had started going to this mic in 2012. Very far from a good open mic but it had it’s charm. It had the potential to be a great spot for comedy but many factors prevented it from being close to decent. The mall was so desolate and nobody would even come to the AMC movie theater next it. The open mic was was in a very hidden area of the mall. There was a main stage that was bigger and allowed passerby’s to stop in if they saw a show going on. We were never allowed on the main stage. The improv students used it on some open mic nights. If the open mic had been in the main stage, we might have been able to start a following but as much as we lobbied, it never happened. Hot Broth was the perfect starter open mic for anyone looking to do comedy. Aside from not having an audience, there wasn’t a bar to get liquid courage, but you could get some beer at the CVS and sneak it in.

The small black box theater could seat up to 50 people. A lot of comics would come to this open mic first as it started early. They would go there to work on new jokes or to prepare for a later show in the area. The only people in the audience would be other comics waiting their turns and possibly a friend or two. On a good day, we would get someone doing stand-up for the first time who brought an entire group of friends to support them. Of course, the host would put them on the list right after the veterans, so the vets could have a semblance of a real show. Then the newbies would perform in front of a dwindling audience due to every comic leaving after their routine. The worst part of this room is that it would really deflate your ego. Once you figured out the inner workings of this room, you knew you needed to go up aggressive and try new jokes and really let yourself go. You couldn’t go to this room with some clever material that would be ideal for a politically correct crowd in DC. You came here and pulled no punches to get some respect. It was very entertaining to see new comics hit a brick wall with their jokes or seeing a random veteran throw their “A” material to the regulars, only to realize it’s a room full of comics. You’re not going to make any connections here but thanks for showing off your material. Comedian Ray Williams said it best, “If you make the audience laugh at the Hot Broth, it’s the only place that joke will land. If you take that same material somewhere else, be prepared to get no laughs. This place is weird and twisted and gives you a false hope of getting better. You learn to suck. As bad as it is here you can’t help but want to come back at this train wreck.”

That year, I befriended this young college kid named Matt. He had a lot of energy and it seemed like he really fed off of the vibe there. I have to admit, this kid was downright hilarious. I always enjoyed seeing him up on stage because as a newbie, he learned the ropes quick. Before the end of the year, I began hosting gigs there and it was humbling. I definitely learned a lot and it was good to lean on Matt for advice. We always talked about the potential of this room and how it had the power to compete with other shows around the city. We would agree that talented comedians would venture to this room for curiosity but would never come back due to a lack of audience. This room would range from the great comic who’s up in coming in the area to the veteran riding the coattails of great comic, to the downright terrible newbie. Newbies were terrible but watching them level up was always amazing. The support was there. Once you started noticing their names move up on the list, you knew they had earned respect from the vets. The funny thing about these newbies is that they really wanted to earn the respect from the vets at this location. It wasn’t like these comics couldn’t move up on their own but they looked at Hot Broth as a room to make it in. That just made Matt and I laugh hard. We would tell them, there are other places to go, better than Hot Broth but I guess it would require them to travel somewhere new and be surrounded by a new set of local comedians. All was good until it was announced that the entire theater would close for business in March of 2015.

  • Comedy Class without Steve Martin. A comedy class from the local library.

I quickly concocted a plan to bring an audience to Hot Broth. I decided to talk to my supervisor about starting a comedy class for the library. I had always enjoyed talking to new comics and would guide them to different rooms in the city. I figured I could translate that into a class. Now when I came into this project, I expected 5, maybe 10 people to sign up. I never expected to get over 75 people to sign up for this class. The local TV news announced this “free” class offered by the library and people took to the streets! Not really but I had to cap the registration for the class at 50. My first run at the workshop was awkward, crazy, and awesome. In the first class, most of the 50 people who registered showed up. I had an informational session, followed by guest comic, and then off to the mall we went!

The first time the “students” or “audience” showed up to Hot Broth, all of the comics waiting for the show to start were awe struck. It was the first time most of the seats in the black box theater were taken. All the comics were hyped and as was I. Matt was happy and I was happy to surprise all the regulars with a chance to perform in a show type venue. I was happy that the newbies who kept coming and were always at the bottom of the list week in and week out, finally had the opportunity to perform in front an actual audience. Even the first comic was excited, he was an out of towner from Boston who had done something with Comedy Central, and was like what an introduction to the DMV!

What happened next was totally unexpected. The 50 or so students, did not laugh at any of the jokes thrown at them. It’s as if the Hot Broth stayed the same and was now laughing at the comedians in the worst way. There’s an audience here for comedy but fuck your humor, fuck your jokes, fuck everything about you. Nobody got laughs and the few laughs came from a handful of veteran comics who brought in their “A” material, which they almost never did in that room. The mood of the comics went from excitement to disbelief. But in the midst of all of this, every comic felt like they could turn the tide, even the newbies. We were all wrong, even me.

The following week, some of the students said they wanted to try comedy since what they saw was very “amateurish”. I’ll never forget thinking the students in this workshop were very cocky. Luckily, I had brought in an OG as a guest speaker. I brought in my friend Jamel who used to do Hot Broth but moved on to bigger and better stages. He pumped up the workshop and took that same energy to Hot Broth. For Week 2, it was a different story. Less comics showed up this time around and the ones who were there, were coming to exact revenge for their poor showing the week before. Jamel kicked off the show and literally kicked the stool off the stage. I hosted that night and I remember seeing the names of some of my students ready to perform towards the end of the show. To my surprise, all of the comics, veteran and new, killed that night. It was a great feeling seeing each of them go up and make the audience laugh. It felt like the aura of the room was transformed to something I knew we all had inside of us. We worked the shit out of the room that night. Without being told to do better, here they were showing the same audience members from a week ago that we weren’t just beginners, they were fucking comedians. It was like all the comics banded together and just gave each other the juice. The JUICE! lol I don’t know what that means but it was special. The students who signed up on the list didn’t go up on stage that night. Cause they knew better!!! THEY KNEW BETTER!!! Talking all that shit and then backing out like punks! Fuck y’all losers. lol

Juice! Do you remember this Tupac classic???

In Week 3 of the workshop, some of the students admitted that they felt intimidated performing that evening and decided to try another time. It was the validation I wanted for my comedian friends but at the same it put my workshop into perspective. Oh shit, what the fuck am I teaching here? lol. The next two workshops were more defined and I made sure to bring in a Powerpoint presentation, which the students appreciated. The last two shows at Hot Broth were a mixture of the first and second week. I saw more comics pop into the show because of the audience and it was fun while it lasted. Once the workshop was over, it was like word got out that Hot Broth was actually worth going to. It was fun to see it go back to its normal state with a whole bunch of outsiders thinking they were getting an audience. Nah, man, this was a month long adventure mainly for the ride or die Hot Broth-ers!

My Forrest Gump Moments

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(I started a draft of this blog in 2017, I’ve decided to publish some embarrassing moments and will add more in the future.)

Sometimes I’ll be deep in thought and an embarrassing moment will pop in my head.  These are the type of embarrassing moments you would want to forget but somehow your brain has just decided to make millions of copies of such awkward moments so that you NEVER FORGET!  I wish I could forget some and every time one of these memories pops into my head, I just want to disappear.  It could have been a memory that happened 20 years ago, but it still makes me want to disappear.  I guess I think that someone who may witnessed that moment may still remember it and the thought of that embarrasses me. Weird.  Sometimes I forget that most people don’t have good memory, but still, that might be a moment that they have never forgotten.

This will be an ongoing blog as I’m sure I will have the guts to write out some of my most embarrassing moments in hopes that they will disappear from my memory banks once they are out.  I’m guessing that’s something a therapist would say. lol.  Glad I didn’t spend any money for that advice.  I write, “My Forrest Gump Moments” because I call myself an idiot looking back at those moments as if I were Forrest Gump.  Does that make any sense?  Well let’s get to my highlights, shall we?

Turtle Hook Jr. High School – Soccer – Fall 1992

I was a defenseman on the Turtle Hook Jr. High School soccer team.  We were a very good team that year.  I think we went undefeated?  I don’t remember.  So we had a couple of preseason games and in one game, we were playing against a pretty good team and every time we scored a goal, the other team would score.  It was a very close game and we ended up in overtime.  After a 6-6 tie, we scored again.  We were up by 1 goal with 2 minutes left in the game.  The coach told everyone to do whatever you can do to stall the game.  One of the older kids said, “Yeah if you can, kick the ball out of bounds!  Hell, kick it into one of the backyards!!!”  He kept yelling the same thing. “Kick it into a backyard!!!”  I took that advice literally.  I somehow ended up with the ball near our goal and turned to someone’s backyard and kicked the ball 50 yards into someone’s backyard.  It was blatant and looking back, I felt like that’s not what that kid really meant.  I took it literally and I remember after the kick everyone looking at me with shock, like they didn’t think I would actually do that.  The opposing team’s coach was furious and the referee called the game.  I guess he didn’t care to use a replacement ball since the clock was winding down.  My team won and my team cheered.  But then everyone kind of looked at me like, “Did you really just you do that?”  I shrugged it off and scratched my head because I did exactly what my teammate was yelling about.  Some of my team took it in stride and others were like, “He literally kicked the ball into someone’s yard on purpose!” It took some time to think about but I remember thinking, I should have just kicked the ball to the far end of the field.  I mean, if I can kick a ball 50 yards, then it shouldn’t have been so blatant to kick the ball out of bounds when I’m standing near the out of bounds line. Oh well. This memory randomly popped into my head recently as I had really forgotten about it until my brain was like, “Look at what I found!!!”

Turtle Hook Jr. High School – Fall 1992

After soccer season ended, I was enjoying this new found freedom of junior high school.  In elementary school, you are stuck in the same class, same teacher with the same group of kids all year round.  In junior high, I now had new sets of classmates for every period.  Granted there would be some kids you would have the same classes with but this was a whole new world for me.  There were six elementary schools and two junior high schools in my district.  So having kids from two other elementary schools, meant getting to know another part of my town that I hadn’t known about. I enjoyed making new friendships and possibly having my first girlfriend.  (I smiled while writing that sentence because I seemed bent on accomplishing that goal.)

It didn’t take me long to develop a crush.  I happened to notice a girl name M.  She was very pretty with jet black curly hair. I remember looking to see if she had a boyfriend.  She was a year older than me and I would scout her locker and sometimes would catch a glimpse of her going to class.  I would follow her routine from a distance, just like a creeper, never giving myself away.  One day, I remember leaving my last class at the bell and rushed to get on the bus. I guess I did it to be cool and slick. I left early to get out of the homework assignment.  That day I noticed that M was one of the first students to leave school.  I think it took a few weeks before I approached her but I always felt like this was the time to say something to her.  What do I say?  What do I do?  How do I react to what she says?  I had played this simulation in my head for weeks.  Sometimes I was determined to say something and my nerves, my anxiety would shoot up.  Sometimes she wasn’t there or I chickened out, only to beat myself later for not having the guts to say something.  Then one winter afternoon, I decided to say something to her.  I remember walking right behind her and I thought about backing out like I had done previous times but this time, I said this is it.  My hands started shaking visibly and I remember being startled by that.  I asked meekly, “Excuse me.”  She didn’t hear me, then I said it again louder and she turned around.  I froze and didn’t know what to do. I then said, “What’s your name?”  She replied, “M”.  I was so nervous that I remember saying, “Oh….ok.” and walked away to my bus.  I felt so stupid and was like great, that’s how I’ll be remembered, “The guy who came up to me and asked for me name and walked away. lol”

A few weeks later, I told my friend Tonya about my crush to M.  I was embarrassed in making that confession and I remember Tonya laughing at me. I remember feeling the pain of embarrassment again and just decided to forget about that situation.  Spring would start and then I would go onto the start of running track and field. While changing for practice one day in the Spring, a kid named James announced in the locker room, “Hey Kerby, you have two girls looking for you in the hallway.” All the guys in the locker room cheered and jeered me.  I thought it was a prank as I didn’t know any girl, let alone two girls looking for me. So I asked him if he was playing around.  He said he wasn’t, so I got ready and went to the hallway.  As soon as I got to the hallway, I saw my friend Tonya, and became annoyed.  In that moment, I forgot about the second person. A little annoyed, I said, “What do you want?” until I saw M standing right behind her. Tonya had said that I had blushed. I remember smiling but looking down. I sometimes wonder if it’s the same look my son makes when he’s a little embarrassed.  His checks get bright red.  So I remember sheepishly saying, hi.  She then said, I heard you like me.  I said yeah.  She said, you’re cute and I would like to go out with you but my parents won’t let me have a boyfriend right now.  I remember smiling because it didn’t feel like an immediate rejection.  It was a good rejection. I even asked her, “So if you’re parents would let you have a boyfriend, you would go out with me?”  She was like, yeah.  I felt good but sad at the same time.  She would say hello to me from time to time and I always responded back.  One day as I was rushing to Science class, a piece of paper kept falling out of my text book and I kept jamming it back.  As I got to class, the paper fell out and landed right as I was taking a step and I fell on my ass.  Everyone in the hallway started laughing.  Getting up in embarrassment, I noticed M.  She laughed at me but then winked as she went into class. After that year, her family moved away and I never saw her after that.

Turtle Hook Jr. High School – Soccer – Fall 1993

A year later, I was captain of the soccer team and some of my teammates did not like my style of play.  I played hard even in practice but there was one time when I took it too far.  Looking back, I should have never done this to my own teammate.  The offense was running 2 vs. 1 drills against the defense.  I knew what players to take it easy on and which players to play with a higher intensity.  I was on defense for this drill and from a distance, I saw a girl I had a crush on.  She was with her best friend, who’s younger brother was on the team.  I felt the need to showcase my skills as a soccer player.  So when the 2 on 1 drill started, I immediately took off and chased the player with the ball.  The kid was a year younger and a hell of a lot shorter than me.  I didn’t give that poor kid a chance to dribble with the ball 5 yards before I decided to barrel into him and pushing him into the ground.  It wasn’t a football tackle but I laid into that kid so hard that he had grass and dirt all over him after he flew in the air and rolled on the ground a couple of times.  The kids who didn’t like me immediately jumped up and down and were yelling at the coach to do something.  They were all mad at me and was like, “This is fucking practice!!! What the fuck are you doing?!?!?”

They were right. I had no reason to put that kid down like that.  It was stupid and for what to impress some girl?  When I looked at the sideline, I could see she felt bad for the kid and I tried to shrug it off like it was practice.  The coach sided with me but I think that’s because I was one of his favorite players but there was no way I should have knocked that kid down like that.  The size advantage alone should have stopped me from doing it but unfortunately, that girl came by and well…it was stupid.  Not like Rudy playing his heart out like in the movie Rudy but some idiot like Forrest Gump.  FORREST WHAT ARE YOU DOING????  I have always looked back at that memory and it still makes me feel bad.  Even after all these years, I regret that and I hope I can make that apology to him. I may get, “Man, that’s no big deal, I forgot about it.” I truly wonder if that’s the case because I still think about that till this day.  I hope to make amends one day and when I do, I’ll write and update the blog.

Washington D.C. – April 11, 2013

I decided to skip ahead and give an honorable mention a moment from adult life. I was getting my first paid comedic gig on this date.  I was heading to Bethesda, MD to perform at a show at an Irish bar called the Harp and the Fiddle.  I was nervous because my name was on the flyer and had no idea what to expect at the show.  I started to get my bearings in the comedy world at this time.  I got off of work, got dressed, and drove to Union Station.  I took the Red Line up to Bethesda.  I remember feeling cool and calm heading to the train station.  It was a warm day but it wasn’t hot.  Once I got on the train, I remember starting to get nervous.  I was feeling very tense and was thinking about my routine. I don’t remember if the lady directly across from me got on at a stop after Union Station but she noticed me at some point in the trip. She was an older white lady, who looked like she hit the gym after work and was finally going home.

She asked me if I was okay.  I said I was alright and tried to play it cool even though I was sweating profusely.  I decided to tell her after a few seconds of silence.  I told her that I was going to perform at my first paid comedic gig.  She was excited and was like, “Wow you’re a comedian? That’s great! Oh you’ll do fine.  You have nothing to be nervous about.”  I felt comforted by those words and was expecting her to ask me a question about how I got into it or who I identified with in the comedy world.  Instead she didn’t say anything after that.  If I had headphones, I would have put it on to focus but I didn’t bring them with me. After another stop, she asked me another question. With a sly smile, she ask, “Well, aren’t you going to tell me a joke?”.  I was caught off guard and wasn’t sure what to say.  I was caught up in repeating my routine that I didn’t even know if I should try my routine with her or give her one joke.  After thinking about it, I was like, okay fine. I started to tell her about my brother’s Facebook post about his cancer.  I then dropped the punchline of my joke.  It was the one joke that no matter where I said it in the routine, it had gotten laughs 99 percent of the time.  The one time it didn’t was in the room I hated the most on U Street.  Luckily, a comedian bursted out laughing in the silence of a packed house and took it as a win that night.  I guess I was feeling like I was going to get, “Oh that’s funny or that’s good.”  Even a flat, “That’s good.” would have been fine.  Instead, she got very upset.  Her smile disappeared and she looked at me with disdain.  She was like, “You shouldn’t joke about cancer! I hope you stop telling that joke. I survived cancer myself and if you keep telling this joke after today, I hope you get hit by a car.”  The silence was deafening at that point.  I should have walked away but I didn’t.  Now I really felt nervous about the show.  We sat across from each other in complete silence for a long ride to the next stop.  She got off at the next stop and I felt relief for a brief period.  I smiled at the fact that I had not expected that reaction but when you’re in comedy, you need to prepare for all types of reactions.  At first, I felt like I should have had a quick comeback but then I realized, this was not the place to do such, had it been a show, I would have had to say something back. I went on to perform at the bar show that night.  There was a large crowd of people at the bar but one the show started, it dwindled down to a small group.  It’s the way of life for a comedian.  Get hyped for a big crowd only for it to dwindle to a handful. I performed and it wasn’t great but it wasn’t a bomb either.  I got my first $20 for a comedy gig and didn’t feel like it was deserved. I did feel it was deserved for the train ride. lol It was a $20 I always kept in a drawer until one day Jennifer spent it without realizing its significance.  If I ever hit the stage again and somehow get paid, I’ll make sure to frame that fucker.

How Playing Roblox With My Kid Gave Me A Seizure

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My step-daughter is currently obsessed with the online game Roblox.  Even when she’s not playing, I can see her envisioning what she’s going to do when she gets back online, like a chess player planning their next move.  I find it interesting that when I ask about Roblox, she immediately lights up and tells me about all of the drama that is going on in the game.

I love video games but when I first saw the game Roblox, I immediately thought of the game Minecraft.  If you don’t know Minecraft, it’s a game designed to look very pixelated and if you want a visual, Google “Minecraft” then Google “Roblox”.  Roblox is the catfish version of Minecraft.  It’s like back in the day when you asked your Mom for Oreos and she brought back a box of Hydrox cookies instead.

Hydrox
Remember Hydrox cookies???  Looks like Oreos but didn’t quite taste the same.  I don’t think I’ve seen a box of Hydrox since the mid 90’s.

Roblox gives you the impression that the game is incomplete and not very challenging.  I decided to give it a try and figure out the appeal of playing this game.  I also wanted to get involved in the drama!  I needed to see what these little punks are up to so I took the time out on a Saturday night to play the game with her.  This is what my Saturday nights have become, playing Roblox with a bunch of pre-teens!

roblox
This exactly sums up my initial reaction to Roblox.  Thank you Patrick!

And It Starts…

I created my own account and avatar.  My screen name is LittleJK41 which is a play on her screen name, LittleOG14.  I wanted to secretly surprise her in the game, just to see what type of player she would be in this Roblox world.  Unfortunately, even with my impeccable research skills, I could not find her. My wife even tried to help me out but we both couldn’t find a way to sneak into her game.  So like loser adults, we had to tell her what we were doing and she helped me get to the game she was playing in.

Now to give you a little bit of background on the game, once you sign up, you have the option to set up your avatar.  You’re avatar is very plain but you can change his or her features.  There are free items to choose from but if you want anything unique to your character, you have to buy it with Roblox money called Robux.  I didn’t really care to make my character unique because I definitely wanted it to look like a new player.  I wanted my character to be considered a “noob“, another term for a new player, usually associated with a lack of skills for the game as well.

robloxnoob
This is what my character looked like but I gave him a spiky hair dew!

In the Club! WHAT! WHAT!

Once I created my “noob” character, off I went trying to find her in a game called Club Red V4. Club Red V4 is a game where you go to a club listening to the latest beats while socializing with other players.  I joined her and immediately chatted her in the text box which all the players can read.  She was hanging out on the poolside of the club, which was funny to me. I jumped into the water and of course, I couldn’t seem to figure out how to get out.  My step-daughter sent someone in to get me out because I couldn’t figure out how to use the ladder.  Turns out my step-daughter is the ring leader of the group and all of her friends welcomed me.  I asked her, how do you dance, and she showed me the list of dance moves that came up.  So I did the dab, the robot, the sizzle, and whatever other dance moves I was able to choose from.  She was annoyed that I was dancing in the middle of her circle of friends.  She was like, “Dad stop!!!”.  What amazed me is that all of her friends believed I was her dad.  My guess, the kids believe the phrase, “If it’s on the internet, then it must be true!”  So I would say things like, “I am your father LittleOG14!“, “Help your Dad! LittleOG14!“, “I’m the coolest LittleOG14!“, or “Hello, I’m a Noob.”  I would have thought that her friends would have thought that we were being sarcastic but they believed us.  Her friends let me be part of her circle.  It was amazing to watch and see her lead her group of friends in and out of the club.

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“He just ran off” “lol” “YOLO” – A little bit of what to expect in Club Red V4.

The club was interesting because I found it was very depressing like a real club.  But to a pre-teen or teen, this is fun stuff.  Most people were not on the dance floor and some characters were just trying to talk to each other in private, off in some dark corner of the club.  I would interrupt their conversations.  I would say hello and tell them how new I was to the game. I thought it was funny but my step-daughter was annoyed with my antics.  Eventually, we moved on to Prison Life.

Things get real in Prison Life!

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Now Prison Life was a much better game because unlike the club game, there are guns, tasers, and other weapons involved with the socializing.  Before you start playing, you get a choice of joining the prison guard team or the prisoner team.  We joined the prisoner team and my step-daughter lead the revolution.  I kind of watched and followed her for 2 seconds then I decided to punch her out and as well as the other inmates.  I had fun punching random players but then the officers would shoot me dead.  My character crumbles to the ground and then re-spawns in a prison cell.  I then started talking smack to all the prison guards and of course they would kill me or handcuff me.  My step-daughter seemed so embarrassed by my gameplay that she would often say “STOP DAD!” “WTH DAD!” but I continued.  Eventually she and her friends escaped the prison and became “criminals“.  Apparently, they get better guns as a criminal.  When she became a criminal, she tried to get me to come out to the prison yard to help me escape.  I was so busy punching everyone inside the prison, I stopped paying attention to the text box.  They were waiting for me to come to the yard to play so they could shoot me but I never came out to the yard.  I was too busy trying to get a gun from the prison guard home base.  I kept getting killed but I was having fun.

Her friends found me to be cool, just like my step-daughter.  They all said that she likes to bark orders to her crew but they liked helping a “noob” like me out.  One of her friends helped me escape the jail only to be killed by someone else. I saw one player was constantly chatting with my step-daughter and told him that if he wants to date my step-daughter, he needed to buy her a ring.  He immediately logged off and unfriended her.  What a wuss! I had fun playing with her but after an hour, I was getting tired of getting killed and quite frankly, I felt odd talking smack to a bunch of pre-teens.  I’m too old for this.

Online Games = Old Online Chat Rooms

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Oh CompuServe. I only used you because I couldn’t afford AOL.

I now understand why my step-daughter loves this game.  It reminded me of the old chat rooms on AOL or CompuServe.  Remember CompuServe???  That was for the people who couldn’t afford AOL, the gold standard of the internet in the late 90’s early 2000’s.  Just like the chat room, you can see who’s there, pick and choose the theme of the room you want to go into and socialize.  In Roblox, same thing except you get to play games one another.  You choose different games with different rooms, and you get to socialize.  This game appeals to pre-teens as the game play is very simple and honestly, for someone who immediately thought the game was stupid, it’s easy to ignore your kid playing it because you don’t immediately see the inappropriateness of the game right away.  As a parent, I saw some games that were not appropriate for a child to play and were very adult themed.  With online bullying increasing, I can see this game as another way for kids to gang up on others.  So after a lengthy discussion with my wife, we both talked to my step-daughter on the do’s and don’ts of playing this game or anything else she does online.

By playing with her, she has opened up to me more, specifically about the game but she talks to me about her friends.  She tells me what goes on in the game and I’m glad we are able to have something to talk about it and I don’t feel like there’s a wall between us.  Hopefully, she’ll continue to chat it up with me and eventually move on from Roblox but only time will tell.

Oh and about that seizure?  That’s some good ole’ fashion use of click bait.

The Cello

Published on by jkblog2013Leave a comment

I bought a cello in 2007 and have probably played it twice.  At home, in my closet, collecting dust.  I’m not a complete novice to the cello, I played the cello for 6 years growing up.  I guess the cello at home is just a reminder of when I did play the cello.  It probably would be better used as a big ass paperweight at this point.  Now that I think about it, it’s more of a reminder of why I stopped playing the cello.

I played the cello from 2nd grade up until 8th grade.  I stopped playing the cello in 9th grade for a couple of reasons.  I was never fully vested in the cello so that was reason #1, the Addams Family Values movie, reason #2, and the summer of 1994 broke the camel’s back. No more cello!

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Elementary School

My older sister and brother played an instrument from elementary school through high school.  My older brother played the cello in elementary school and eventually switched over to the trumpet.  My sister played the violin and the flute.  My mom wanted me to play the cello just like my older brother.  I thought it would be cool to play an instrument so why not follow big brother. I’ll never forget the day I brought my cello home, my mom was so proud.  I remember her crying and dragging my little brother to the side door of the house, and saying how I reminded her of Freddy.  In elementary school, I had to bring in the cello once a week and it was annoying to bring on the school bus.

I picked it up really quick.  I remember my music teacher giving me homework and I hardly practiced at home.  I would practice when my mom would be like, “Why is that cello in the closet!  Get it out and practice!”  Reluctantly, I would practice.  Sometimes in front of my parents, siblings, or some friends of the family whenever my mom would want to showoff.

I remember enjoying the cello in elementary school because it got me out of my class once a week for an hour and I remember my teacher being impressed with how well I played even though I hardly practiced at home.  I liked the comradery with the band and chorus kids.  One of my fondest memories was during a practice for a winter concert, during a repetitive piece, I would play a different part of music on the sheet, only to get back in-sync with the orchestra just because the repetitions were boring me. I did it for the challenge and to make it interesting.  My partner would notice it and sometimes the music teacher would notice it but when it came down to the concert, I made sure not to deviate from the music sheet.

Jr. High School

Orchestra became one of my main classes in junior high school.  Unlike elementary school, where it was more of a one on one lesson, this was a group playing every single day.  The seventh graders practiced together, the 8th graders practiced together, and the 9th graders practiced together.  Once it was time for a concert, we all joined forces to destroy the universe.  Just want to check if your still reading.

Anyways, we practiced every day, I had one cello for school and one for home.  So I no longer had to carry around my cello to and from school.  Since we played every day in school, I no longer practiced at home.  I played my cello and eventually became cello #1, the coveted leader spot.  My teacher was impressed how quickly I rose to that spot without private lessons.  All of that would change in the Spring of 1994.  In preparing for the spring concert, all the students had to bring in their home instruments to the concert.  I didn’t think anything of it until the first day of practice.

I unzip the case and see a massive hole in the cello.  There were pieces of the cello inside the hole!  I was like, WTF!!!  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.  I never use this instrument so how did it break???  I couldn’t believe it and was scared to tell my mom.  I had no choice but to tell her since she was driving me up to practice. I got yelled at, of course.  I would too if Nik did the same thing.  What made my mom even more upset is that I kept telling her that I don’t know how it broke.  She was like, “What do you mean, you don’t know how you broke it!”  I was like, “I didn’t break it, that’s the point!”

Either way, I was responsible for the instrument and had to come up with an excuse.  My younger brother, Kenny, came up with a nifty excuse.  He said, “Why don’t you tell the music teacher, you were walking up the steps with the instrument and you tripped and fell on top of it.”  I was like, that’s fucking good!  I was a little surprised to see him having sympathy for me rather than tease me for my misfortune.  I told that excuse to my music teacher who wasn’t buying it.  He told me that I would probably have to pay for a replacement cello.  He lectured me on how instruments are not cheap and that this was going to cost me a lot of money.

Summer of 1994

My parents got a bill of $600 for the cello.  My mom was like, now you’re going to have to get a job to pay for it.  Your fault, your responsibility, now you go to work.  My father got me a job at a local deli.  I worked the weekends all summer.  I stocked all of their fridges with sodas, juices, and 40’s.  40’s were kind of a big deal back then.  I learned a lot with that job.  I learned that you can’t spill grease on your clothes because it will never go away.  Carrying grease buckets took a lot of skill!  Even spilling grease on a sidewalk would permanently stain it.  I learned that mopping floors before closing would annoy customers, so I did it anyway. lol  I always kept the basement clean even though my co-worker would get it all messy just so I could clean it up.  My first lesson on having co-workers that don’t always pull their weight. lol   I saw co-workers brawl inside of the walk-in fridge only to be cool the next day.  Every paycheck went straight to my mom.

By the time school rolled around, I had finished paying off my debt.  I decided it was time to quit the cello.

Before I get to that part, let’s go back to the Adams Family Values movie.

Adams Family Values

addams-family-values_still1
That’s my cello burning in the background. Cara Mia!

Towards the end of the school year, there were no more concerts to practice for.  The band and chorus teachers would let their students hang out during the period and would sometimes put a movie on.  These were the VHS days!  Watching a movie in school was a big deal!  Even if it was a movie you had seen before.

My orchestra teacher didn’t care.  The band and chorus kids would be laughing, eating, and doing homework during the movie, while we continue to play our instruments.  My classmates banded together against the orchestra teacher and asked why weren’t we getting free time.  His response, “We keep playing.”  Who was this Bill Belechick???  What the hell man!  Then one day, the band and chorus were watching Adams Family Values, which had just come out on VHS.  We were so bummed and I was upset because I really wanted to see that movie.  We were playing music just for hell of it.  So naturally, I kept this in mind when it was time to quit the cello.

Sidenote: The last week of school, the music teacher did give us a break and my first inkling of comedy came out.  “Yo Momma Jokes” were in at that time and I remember I was annoyed at the music teacher that I told my friends a joke.  I said, Mr. Insert Name is so fat, that when he drives his van, he can only make left turns.  lol I got some chuckles and even one kid thought about it and started laughing while repeating the joke.

In Memoriam

I quit the orchestra and the cello in 9th grade.  Carrying grease buckets, dealing with ladies from salon who were upset with me for not putting the cold drinks at the front of the fridge, and mopping floors for small paychecks were fresh on my mind.  Not watching The Addams Family Values movie, right behind it.  My teacher tried his best to convince me to play again and I just kept saying no.

Instead of orchestra, I took an art class and found it to be much more relaxing than orchestra.  I loved watercolors and drying my artwork on the rack.  It was cool and different.  Plus I now got to hang out with kids who were not part of the band, orchestra, and chorus clique.  I saw a whole new world!

I can’t say that I missed playing the cello.  Sometimes I would rib the kid who took my spot and tell him that if I came back, I would still be #1, kind of like when Michael Jordan came back.  He would laugh but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he caught up to my cello skills.  I never looked back at it and was glad I didn’t have to drag my parents to another boring winter concert.  How many times do you want to hear Jingle Bells or some other holiday song?

WAIT SO HOW DID THE CELLO BREAK???

brokencello
This sort of looks like the broken cello but just imagine a bigger hole.

Oh so in 2003, I came home from college and saw my brothers laughing hysterically.  I was like, what is so funny?  Kenny, my younger brother, says, YOU!  I was like, “Hahaha.  No what’s so funny?”

Kenny: Remember when that cello broke?  Well, Freddy and I were wrestling and he body slammed me into your cello.  The cello broke and we didn’t know what to do, so we put in the smashed pieces in the hole and let it sit.  You didn’t notice it for weeks until the concert. So now you know how it broke!

Me: You guys owe me $600 plus interest.  Not funny.  No wonder you came up with that excuse!  No wonder you were all sympathetic! You two are fucking idiots!!! I gave up playing because of that broken cello.

They just laughed.  That’s family.

So why did I buy a cello after all these years?  I was browsing on Craigslist and saw a brand new cello for $250.  Do you know how cheap that is???  I actually thought about flipping it for more money but I kind of like it as a memory piece, that is currently at home, in my closet, collecting dust.