Mother's Day!

It's been 6 months since my mother passed away.  I think about her and miss her every day.  I was going to sit here and write all of the prescribed things one would say about their mother on this special day, but my mother knows how I feel about her and our relationship.  What I thought I'd do is share a story from my childhood that represents what our relationship was made of.

I was maybe 9 or 10 and was starting to develop a rather colorful vocabulary.  Swearing wasn't an all day/every day type of thing, but it had gotten to the point where I would occasionally let something fly and simply not notice it.

Anyhow, it was a Saturday morning and I managed to watch my favorite cartoons and it was about time to locate some friends and get the weekend started.  I took my cereal bowl to the sink, rinsed it out and was going to put it in the dishwasher.  As I made the pivot towards the dishwasher, I hit my shin on the dishwasher door.  That caused me to drop the cereal bowl, and that caused me to drop the "F Bomb".

Right when that happened I heard my mom say "What did you just say?"  Now, she wasn't asking this question because she didn't hear me.  She was asking for clarification and I was just smart enough to know that.  I replied, "I said #@$%, mom."  I just stood there.  I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen.  In the past, things like being sent to my room or being asked to write a 200 word essay on the subject were potential punishments.  On the harshest end of the punishment realm was being grounded for the weekend and being forced to read children's books.  (The logic behind the children's books was, I wasn't old enough to use that kind of language so that meant I was too small to use the language.... and in order to use proper language, it was necessary for me to gain an "age appropriate" vocabulary.) 

Mom stood up and headed down the hall which was the total opposite direction of where I was standing.  This of course added to the suspense.  The pace in which mother headed down the hall showed intent. "What was going to happen?".  The "Wheel of Misfortune" is spinning in my head and I am hoping it lands on nothing more severe than a writing assignment.  There was always potential for what I referred to has the "combo platter".  It was the most rare of all punishment and was a combination of any or all of the above. 

As mom came into view, I could tell from the look on her face that this was going to be special.  She had something in her hand, but I couldn't quite make it out.  As she got close, she reached out and grabbed me by the back of the neck and took me to the kitchen sink... where this whole thing began.  She turned on the sink water and handed me a bar of Zest soap.  (My dumb ass thinks mom wants me to wash my hands.)  I started to wash my hands and when I worked up a good lather mom said, "Wash your mouth out with soap!" 

As some of you know, I was a bit of a hard learner. At first I looked at her like, "Are you serious?".  She was, and I didn't have to ask.  The look on her face screamed, "DO NOT MAKE ME DO THIS FOR YOU!"  I should trusted my instinct but for a second I thought I could sell it by washing my face paying particular attention to the area around my mouth.  No dice... Mom wasn't having any of that bullshit.

Mom grabbed the bar of soap and held it close to my mouth.  I kind of inched forward, opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out and made this lame licking attempt.  The attempt was enough for me.  Zest tasted like shit and now I knew that.  Mom said, "Take a bite!"   No way was this not going to happen.  My previous attempts to sell the situation were lame.  My pleas fell on deaf ears.  "Take a bite!  Do it now!" 

I opened my mouth and took a good sized chunk off of one of the corners.  As I chewed on the piece of soap trying not to swallow any, mom asked, "What do you think of that?"  I don't know what is wrong with me.  I smiled, nodded and said "MMMM-MMMM!  That is good!"

You know what's not good?  The subsequent ass kicking I took for being a smart ass! Now, I ate some soap, got my ass tore up, and got grounded.  The dreaded "shitty weekend tri-fecta"!  The weekend as I knew it was over but I'd live to tell the tale.

I learned a lot of things that weekend but the 2 most important thing were, "Zest tastes awful" and "don't be a smart ass when there is a pending ass whoopin!". 

In all seriousness, I feel like I am selling my mother short by saying that she was my everything, but she was.  I didn't know this for about 24 years, but everything I ever saw in my mother was going to be the criteria in which I measured all other women that came into my life.  I'll be forever grateful for that, mom.  I will also be forever grateful for my loving wife who managed to meet that criteria.  I don't know where I'd be without you, Honey.  Happy Mother's Day.

I'd also like to wish a Happy Mother's Day to both of my grandmas.  Never were there ever two sweeter ladies on the planet.  I can't believe I was lucky enough to have them both in my life.  Happy Mothers Day to my mother in law, Katherine Davis.  She and I had a special relationship that I'll never forget.  Happy Mothers Day to my Step Mother, Hagan Dudley for filling the gaps during some difficult times.  Happy Mothers Day to Teri Sharkey, Trudy Fleming and Bev Shaw for being surrogate mothers at different times of my life.  Even though I was just some kid from around the neighborhood or ball field, you always made me feel welcome.  I'd like to wish my little sister Tara Sodin a Happy Mothers Day.  I'm proud of the person you became despite me efforts to make you stick around so I could pick on you.

There are far too many important women keep that up, so I'll close with this.  Anybody that reads this and is fortunate enough to still have their mothers with them, make sure your momma knows how much you love her.  Really come to terms with the kind of relationship you share and honor it every day, not just this day.

Peace....

I've got a problem...

I've got a problem.  Well, I have a lot of problems.  When I notice a problem, I tend to write about it.  Somehow, some way, writing about my problems helps me sort them out and make better sense of it all.  I have 2 problems I'd like to try to sort out today and perhaps you will lend me the time to do that.

First problem:  Floss picks....

Yeah, I said floss picks.  I don't really have a problem with floss picks, per se.  In fact, I find them very useful in order to maintain some kind of oral hygiene.  Anything from a pesky popcorn kernel to a piece of beef jerky tends to find itself jammed between my teeth and there is no better way to rid oneself of this problem than with a floss pick. 

In general, when I think of all of the potential floss pick users, I envision people who are concerned with their appearance.  I think of tidy individuals, perhaps with fresh breath and whiter than normal teeth.  I think this type of person appreciates the floss pick because of its convenience and simplicity.  You know, the back breaking process of opening a container of floss, pulling out the required amount of floss to properly do the job, wrapping the floss around a couple of fingers then actually having to do the flossing procedure is just often too much.  So this handy, convenient, efficient product makes everything about said product/procedure such a pleasure.....

So, why in the fuck is it that I find used floss picks just lying around wherever I go?  People care enough about their personal hygiene enough that they will bust out this device, dig around in their nasty ass mouth, probe around their jacked up gums and fish around between their nasty ass mouth, then throw the god damned thing on the ground!  Look around, you'll find 'em.

Here's the kicker.  In all of my research on the subject, used floss picks are normally found within 7.65 feet of a proper trash receptacle.  The majority of used floss picks are found on the ground in parking lots.  I've found them dexterously resting upon window sills, shopping cart handles and even salt and pepper shakers in some cafes.

The once fastidious individual I had imagined has turned into this puss oozing, canker sore having, jacked up grill sporting troll who has nothing better to do than litter....  If you are a floss pick user and you just leave them lying around after use, you're an asshole.

Second problem:  Walking around in public, digging around in your crotch....

Guys are mostly responsible for this activity, but every once in a while you'll cross an extra special female individual whom you bust knuckles deep in their innermost outers.  What in the world has gone wrong in your day that would make you feel that this activity is socially acceptable?  I don't think I've ever heard anyone say, "I really enjoy watching someone scratch their nuts." 

Folks, this is a matter of cleanliness.  A little soap and water goes a long way down south, if you catch my drift.  If you're walking around with itchy nuts, it's time for a hot shower.  If your lady bits are irritable, perhaps a soak in the tub is essential at this point.

How can you not care enough about your naughty bits to not take proper care of them?

I was in the bar business for nearly 20 years and I've been witness to a lot of shit, most of which I wished I had never seen.  I can tell you this with the highest degree of certainty.  I have never seen an individual (male or female) walk around in a bar, trying to entice someone of the opposite sex, start to scratch and itch their private parts and then pick up someone from the other sex....  It doesn't happen, people. 

Witnessing this on more than one occasion led me to the creation of one of my favorite bar games.  It's called, "Crabs or Worse".  The game is played by catching some uncouth individual partaking in his/her favorite past time and then you get to decide if it is "Crabs or Worse".

Honestly people, take a damned shower.  If soap and water can't cure it, I think they make an ointment or something.  if you can't scrape together the money/time/whatever, go to the damned corner and scratch...  what in the hell is the matter with you?  Oh, and pick up your nasty ass floss picks while you're at it.