My Mistake

Jack died a few years ago. Maybe it was quite a few years ago. I can't remember exactly because when he died we both worked for different companies. I only found out about his death through a mutual friend. "Oh by the way did you know that Jack died last year?" No, no I didn't . I would have liked to of known. I would have liked to have paid my last respect. Sometimes when you journey forward you lose touch with minor members of your past. To bad because I liked Jack. Jack always got up every morning and tried his best. Unfortunately for Jack his best was never good enough. Unfortunately for Jack most of what he did was very forgettable. I only remembered him recently because he suddenly popped into a dream I was having. In the dream he was having a heart attack and died. I looked at him saw that he was dead and decided that it wasn't worth the time to call 911. Sad as that sounds that pretty much sums up Jacks life. He lived with the saying: If it wasn't for bad luck I wouldn't have any luck at all. Too bad. He really was a very nice man. He just had that big red target on his back. Being a salesman at the same company I worked at I got to see much of this first hand. While most of our salesman would sleep in late or go on extended vacations, Jack would hit the streets early every day. Every single day. Most of the time the customers told him they didn't have time for him. He would smile say he would come back another day then log it all down in his little computer. He would never miss a return trip. If the same thing happened again he would smile and say he would come back again. And he always did. His persistence paid off once with a large distribution company. They asked him what he sold and he showed him his line of samples. The man said You know what we could use those. And promptly bought two truckloads worth. Next month they did the same thing. They soon became one of our biggest customers. So big in fact that the company said it was too big an account for one salesman and took it away from Jack making it what they call a company account. What that meant for Jack was no more commissions on their sales and a quick demand that he get out there and find new bussiness for the drop in his numbers. This finally led to his dismissal for poor performance. Jack didn't let that get to him and called a friend of a friend who sold boats out by the seashore. Got the job by telling the manager of sales that he had a lot of good leads. Now I'm not talking about little fishing boats or jet skis, I'm talking about 20' long motor cruisers. Perfect for that trip to the club on Catalina Island. Or a fancy cocktail party at the marina with all your Harvard buddy's. Who were his good leads? All his former co-workers. His Chevy driving , tract home mortgage paying co-workers. Tell you what Jack as soon as I pay off my kids braces I'll look into buying a boat that's worth more than my house. This job did not last. Nor did my contact with Jack. Oh he called once in awhile to give us updates. "No, no job yet but I've got a good feeling about my last interview. I think I really impressed them." "Well yes my wife left me but I really think we can work it out. I don't think her moving back east is gonna stop us from getting back together." Last I heard about Jack was just after the Northridge earthquake. His house had received the most damage on his street. His insurance didn't cover all the damages and I don't think he was ever able to replace the chimney or fireplace. I'm sorry Jack. Sorry that I never made the effort to stay in contact with you. Sorry that I never called and said hey let's go get a beer and play some darts. Or let's meet for lunch. Sorry that I acted like bad luck was contagious. Sorry that I didn't see you for you. A good man that always had a smile on his face and always felt with a little work, tomorrow will always be a little better. I truly do hope that you are in heaven and that God likes his new cabin cruiser.

A picture with me in a jail cell. Well you can't see me actually. 

PASS THE JOYSTICK

I truly am sloppy with the blog. Sorry to all who read this (all none of you). You'd think at my age I would be more mature and responsible. You know, set goals and keep them. Improve with each new minute. Waste time not (sorry Yoda). Nah. I'm as much a procrastinator now as I was when I was a teenager. Well at least now I don't have my mom pounding on my bedroom door shouting: "turn down that noise, get out in the yard and mow the grass". My wife took over that job. Well at least I can drive now. At least I can go to the mall and buy new video games. In teenage land, no money-very little fun. But now, more money-very little fun. Just kidding. Fun is just around the corner (and when you figure out which corner email me). Speaking of video games, did you know that 25% of all video games are bought by men in their fortys? That's me! Well I don't buy 25% of the games but I do like gaming a lot. Hey young ones. You see a man in his fortys acting all serious, trust me he's not. He's just trying to act like what he thinks a forty-year-old is suppose to act. He's really just a kid in a very used set of skin. Trust me you close the door and he'll be playing air guitar on the other side. I don't. Much too mature for that. But other old guys do. Isn't that sad. We have that kid attitude locked inside of us and we can only show it when doors are locked or when we're on our sixth beer. Maybe you saw us doing our stupid dance at the last party we went to. Or was it the last wedding? I forget. It was at the last event where we stood up in a rented tux and made that speech. You know what speech I'm talking about. THAT SPEECH. The one where the bride yelled "sit down dad". "We know your happy and we all love you too". "Mom please do something!" What the hell. If we're writing $20,000 checks for the blessed event then baby hand over the microphone. Those Swedish meatballs didn't grow on trees you know. Oh by the way, Re. The last entry. The old pope is still dead and the new pope is still old. Back to the liquor store. "Hey mister will you buy me some beer?