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Gomer's Pyle

Updated: 2014-10-04T23:15:02.939-05:00




Glad that's over. The surgery went fine and I'm back home and in servitude. It's not bad though...spending the next week with my wife will be a welcome change. I was joking with a friend of hers that I was going to get a little bell that she could ring to summon me. Right in front of Jodi, her friend says "Oh when I was sick, I used the intercom mode on the cordless phone to buzz my family whenever I needed something".

Thanks a lot Tracey (and NOT because it made my life any easier)!

When will women listen?


OK, so the "sprained ankle" turns out to be much more. Jodi sought the advice of an ortho Doc when she got home, and it turns out she has torn ALL the ligaments in the lower leg/upper ankle. She is now scheduled for surgery tomorrow (Tuesday) to repair the damage and align the bones with screws to heal. 6 weeks on crutches with no weight bearing, followed by intensive physical therapy for who knows how long. I can't escape the bite of coincidence...

"SHE" is a Physical Therapist who now needs therapy in the department she heads! "I" told her she was going to get hurt going skiing after a 20 year layoff from the sport (a prescience ability I have demonstrated in the past) and...Viola...she instantly proves me right! "I" have nothing but time to take care of her, and now that's ALL I will be doing for the next 6-12 weeks!

I really do hope the surgery goes well, and I really do feel bad for her, but I can't escape the irresistible urge to say "I told you so"!

Her nose was pepper sunlight


This is getting so fricken ridiculous. I happened to drink a mediocre '93 Bordeaux tonight in it's entirety, and found myself again immersed in my (admittedly awesome) Hi-Fi system. One of the albums I pulled to play was Jane's Addiction "Nothing Shocking", an album from smack dab in the middle of "her" time in my life (coincidence? you decide). Songs play such a crucial role in relationships..don't you think?

The track "summertime roll" flooded my brain with memories. The whole album is great, but I can't tell you how many time we made love to this song. I'll give you some hints. I was 20...and a model physical specimen with the appetite of a porn star. I was enraptured by this album, infatuated with a beautiful woman infatuated with me, and finally in my first apartment away from home. "Daily" could be the understatement of the century.

I'm so fucking hard on myself. Why can't I just listen to music and appreciate the memories? Why do I have to immerse myself in them to the point that I compound clinical depression? Why do the memories seem to affect me more now than the experience did 19 years ago? It's to the point that I can think of nothing else for long...long periods of time? If only I had known then what strikes me dumb now. BTW, I had a 3 x 6 poster of the uncensored album cover over the headboard of my bed which, as you might think, generated A LOT of questions!

Anyway, here's a link so that you and yours can get on with the business of lurve. It's a simple little diddy, but trust me when I say that you'll imagine (and want) your hips moving to the same tempo changes!
(image) Summertime Rolls by Jane's Addiction

I told her so!


Before Jodi left for Seattle, I warned her that I hoped she would not get injured. Let me explain. Susan and her family traditionally go skiing in Canada during the kids spring break. Jodi was visiting on precisely this week, hence their plans to go skiing, which now included Jodi.

Hence the warning.

Ergo the injury Jodi suffered two days ago. A SEVERLY sprained ankle (Jodi, being a physical therapist, is uniquely qualified to classify the sprain as "severe".)

She is now on crutches...and my life is forfeit the forseeable future.

Dammit all!

Two things


Jodi leaves for Seattle tomorrow for a week of visiting her best friend Susan. I'm not sure how I feel about her being gone for Valentine's Day, but I have already made arrangements for some roses to be delivered to Susans's house on Thursday. It's the least I can do for all my wife does for me. Love ya honey!

Jefe has apparently received his liver transplant, because he is again planning on coming down this weekend. If you'll remember not too long ago, the two of us consumed no less than 6 bottles of wine during an X Box marathon. I swore off wine shortly thereafter, but recently I feel myself getting older and more decrepid. So now it's time for another massive antioxidant infusion to counter the effects of the aging process. My free radical count is WAY too high.

I only have 4 bottles on that will have to do.

P'owned you beiotch


I spent the other night getting my Xbox 360 connected to Xbox LIVE so that Jefe and I can play Halo 3 together whenever we want...him in MN and me here in WI. I gotta kinda marvel at the technology that allows two players to play and talk to each other just by signing into a common site. We have not played yet, but I'm sure it will be cool. On the other hand I can see myself in the kind of light Vince Vaughn was portrayed in the movie "The Breakup". A 30 something guy sitting with a headset microphone on in front of a big screen TV, trash-talking some 13 year old kid from God knows where, while I get my ass handed to me.

I AM just an overgrown kid. But I don't want to actually be SEEN as one!

When I think this...I think...I shouldn't think... this.


There is no pain in only hurts to die. My macabre fascination with my middle-age arrival, means I now think more than ever about my death. Friends my age are croaking. Friends my age have kids having KIDS. Shit! I've always maintained I will not live past the age of 55, so that gives me +/- 15 years to discover the meaning of MY life before it ends. That's not a lot of time when you consider the perpetual stumbling of the first 39 years.

Flor De "I've got a headache"


I'm pretty much finished cleaning the house. Jodi has to work all weekend, so I cleaned it to take some pressure off of her. It was to be a surprise, but she surprised me by coming home at lunch and scaring the bejeezus out of me because I had the ipod cranked and did not hear her come in. You look up and someone is standing there where there wasn't someone only a second ago? Freak out time. Now what to make for dinner? Tonight it has to be great.

The trifecta of a clean house, great dinner, and the 2003 Flor De Pingus SHOULD guarantee I'm gettin' jiggy wit' it tonight. But alas, as a married man, all I can do is my best to provoke it.

Cold luck


While ice fishing this morning, I got a terrible tangle of line in my reel. So I unscrew the front drag nut to take the spool off, and it falls into the hole in the ice and sinks. A 6" hole in a 4' x 8' shanty, and this little part magically finds it on the first bounce. I could have sat there all day and threw the thing at it and wouldn't have hit it once. That's the kind of luck I am getting used to...the bad kind.

Deflating the Pyle


A couple of hours ago I got the fastest response in my job search so far. Barely 3 days ago, I applied for a position as Director of Corporate Communications for a local company. Today I recieve an email stating that, though my qualifications are impressive, I am not being considered for the position. How do they know I would not be the best they ever had without at least talking to me? This one really deflated the ego a bit. Not only another rejection...but a goddamned fast one at that.

It's like those really, really, urgent bowel movements. The faster it comes on, the more definitive it is when it's over. Evidently after hearing from the Gomer, they could not wipe fast enough.



The white Russian is again my mixed drink of choice after an 18 year absence. I figure since I can't get the past (and her) out of my head, I might as well go one step further and revisit the drinks that made that period what it was. Damn! I forgot how good these things were!

White Russians at the Silver Dollar Saloon EVERY night...consume until broke. That was my college instruction manual.

What really sparked the mood was watching "The Big Lebowski" the other night. So I went out and got some Absolut Vanilla, Kahlua, and fresh cream; pretended I was Jeffery Lebowski minus the weed, and began a mixin'.

"Another Caucasian Gary" is my new battle cry.

Lil' Abner


A few weeks ago, my wife's running partner mentioned that the local Humane Society had taken in a stray Mastiff. The woman and her family were in the process of deciding whether they were going to adopt the dog. I was intrigued by the story of the dog, and decided to stop by the shelter to meet him, thinking that we might be interested in adopting him if they did not. When I saw him I was deeply moved to take him home right then, but my wife, out of respect for her friend, wanted them to have first chance. I was not very happy for a day or two...but I understood. Anyway, it turns out they did adopt him.

Guess who we got to dog-sit for on Saturday? None other than Abner the Mastiff. What a great guy he was, and now I am even more upset that we could not have him. He is an absolute LOVER and CUDDLER. I'm glad he went to a great home, but we missed out on a super dog. BTW; I can't even describe how big this guy is. My frame of reference was seriously deficient when picturing "big" dogs before I met Abner. Macy, our 73# black lab, looked like a puppy next to him. Isn't he just adorable?

Guitar God


Jefe and I drained some wine bottles Saturday while we got caught up on each others lives. The drinking always starts slow...just a glass or two to get us started as we do the "social thing" with wives and such...then the X box comes alive and the wine flows like a river. He had recently been given Guitar Hero II for the 360, so he brought it down for us to jam. Late, late into the night we had "john the fisherman" by Primus cranking over and over again as he played bass and I played guitar. Eventually, we were so drunk we were being booed off the stage on "Easy" mode, so we made the switch to Gears of War.

After our six bottle of wine...and at 1:45 AM...I said "uncle" and told Jefe I was spent. So ended another session of working out the meaning of life. Happy to report, further work on the problem is needed, so we are planning to get together again as soon as our livers have healed.

Two for one special


I've got a line a job with the local Medical center. I'm checking into it Monday, but I'm not sure about working at the same place as my wife. One reason is that when I had my own business, I made it a point NOT to hire husbands and wives in case I ever had to fire or layoff one or both. I broke down one time and did it...then ended up having to lay both of them off. I felt terrible.

Funny that I have not asked HER how she would feel about me being there. I suppose I should explore that out of fairness.



Jodi and I went to a banquet tonight thrown by her employer honoring years of service of various employees including her. One particular retiree was honored for 44 years of service, but here was the catch. The department head who introduced her and gave the "recognition speech", went on and on...and on...and on...and on. I seriously thought the elderly lady had a good chance of dying prior to being finally asked to come up to the podium and accept her award. The speech introducing her was delivered in a scatter-brained, seat of the pants fashion that ended up casting a shadow on her wonderful career because it was so fricking long. I was embarrassed for her to have to listen to such a painful retelling of her ENTIRE life story in such a numbnutz fashion.

People...if you are ever asked to perform such a function, please keep in mind a couple of things:

Not everyone in the audience gets inside jokes.
Too much detail is just that...too much.
Keep the physical comfort of your audience in mind.
10-15 "funny stories" in an introduction ends up being anything but.

Last but not least, if your honoree is above the age of 70, do not make them wait for 42 minutes to accept an award while you display your lack of organization and public speaking skills. Can I get an Amen brother!

Drivel (a kind of very cold dribble)


I might have to move my computer if this weather does not improve. This machine is sitting in a 12' x 12' sun room that is 3 sides floor to ceiling windows. Outside these windows it is now close to -18, and feet are getting damnned cold. The room is in fact freezing, even though the thermostat is set to 68 degrees. I would hate to have Xcel Energy come out to do an analysis of this room. I bet most of my heating bill goes up the chimney right in this very spot.

On the ipod is "Freezing Process" by Quicksand. Would that be irony or coincidence?
I C A N N O T S T O P P L A Y I N G T H I S S O N G ! Get outta my head!

Today marks an attempt to start thinking, acting, and blogging more positively. I looked back on some of my archived posts and came to a revelation: when I'm not crying about being so screwed because of all the crap that has happened, I manage to post some very readable material. Maybe I can work my way back to being witty, intelligent, funny and controversial. Obviously, it starts sometime after this post.

Welcome to the New and Improved Pyle


Don your personal protective gear and dive in.

You're HOW old?


Yes, today is my birthday. You can say "Happy Birthday" if you want, but it will probably be anything but that. Number's cold. I mean it's F#@$%*# COLD! The temp this morning was -14 when I got up, so that kind of puts a little damper on celebration activities. There will be no ice fishing today. No thank you! This Arctic blast has been going on for about a week now, and I'm sick of it.

Secondly, well...there's all that other stuff going on. The significance of the B-Day is that I have managed to ingest another year of it. Tomorrow, the cup will start to fill again with my 40th year of shit, which I will Jonestown-like consume next January 22nd, all the while proclaiming myself wiser and stronger for having done the previous 39 doses. Unlike the Rev. Jones though..I have no followers. Not a SINGLE B-day card in the mail! It's like Molly Ringwald in 16 Candles...except there is no one to "forget"...there is just "no one".

Contrary to popular opinion, there is a bit of good news around here. Jefe is making the pilgrimage to my house this weekend for some wine and X-box. Should be fun. I have not tied on a good drunk in about 3 days, so I'm due.

Oh God, I really don't want to do this


I'm almost scared to post about new music I discover...with my only reader in love with Edith Piaf and the cast of a 70's comedy show labeled after distant primate relatives...I feel sadly misunderstood. I feel I missed the boat somehow by not being a nerd. Ironically, that might make me one. How odd.

But I must alert the world to a groundbreaking band that past me by. Apparently, this band was a huge success out East in the early 90's, but never caught on around here. I can vouch for that...because I have never heard them. They are called "quicksand" and they are simply great. They don't move me, there are NO rhapsody links here and no musical reviews for me to be basted later about. Just the fricken name this time around, just like the good old days. You know, when you told your buddy about a band and he said "I'll have to pick up the album".

Do the damn work yourselves...just like I had to. HA!

Can you all sense that I am on edge lately? I find myself walking around wishing someone would pick a fight with me.

Great News!


The high paying job I was being considered for is NOT going to be created! Isn't that just so exciting. The company decided not to make personnel changes until next year! To top it off, it only took a three week vacation for someone to decide that, and another for them to let me know! I am now free to continue my downward slide, complete with dangerous laziness and growing marital destruction. What a relief. That was a close call.

Sometimes I just want to check out...for good.

Past, Present, no Future


Still no word on the potential job I'm waiting to hear on..."future boss" must be a procrastinator, and therefore I shall fit right in. Maybe this week.

Not much is happening around here. My daze of nostalgia has waned some in the past week. I can't really describe the feelings I was having; partly because I don't know who might be reading this, and partly because it was so darned unusual for me. I live for the "now" and always have. I can describe how it started though.

I was doing an honestly unrelated Internet search and happened to find an article that shocked me senseless...about an old girlfriend. Now I know what you're thinking, and it's not true. It was almost pure coincidence. Nevertheless, the article was about her brother who unknown to me, had suffered a skiing accident last year that left him a quadriplegic. I could not believe it, and it affected me quite profoundly.

Since I read that story, I have been living in 1990. Back in College, no cares, no responsibilities, and a bright future. It really has served to point out the vast gulf between what I thought would happen and what actually has. Similarly, I keep thinking about her being in a landslide of change. I wonder how she is coping?

Anyhoo...that is what set the brain to wandering. It might as well have been a hundred years ago.

Another year...another dissapointment


You know damn well you are a pessimist when you can be depressed about a New Year on the second day of it. There just isn't much to look forward to. More death and destruction in the Middle East, an election year, job worries, my melancholy demeanor.

I seem to be in a funk. My mind is completely engrossed in the past recently. It's becoming dangerous. I can think of nothing else. The ease of regression is so much greater than the urge to move forward. Is this the mid-life crisis? I thought I already went through that? That was what the blue Corvette was for, wasn't it?

At least my path...however rocky...extends into another year. For that I am thankful.

Happy New Year to you eternal optimists.

Christmas Meat


The whole fam-damnly is coming for my Christmas dinner today. I decided to fall back on old reliable instead of experimenting this year. Last year I had an over abundance of venison, so I think I made a venison loin roast with cranberries. I don't really remember, but several people told me last night that I had. It was, therefore, memorable. But for reasons I'm not sure were good or bad.

Merry Christmas to all resident microbes in the Pyle. I KNOW there is more than one, and remember, it would be a great Christmas present for you all to finally post!

Ancient History


I did something very hard today. I apologized to someone I have not seen or spoke to in 18 years for something I did to them that still haunts me. Nothing illegal or criminal mind you...but hurtful, thoughtless, rude and uncaring nonetheless. I often think about that situation with deep regret.

Now I have finally acted like a man and set it right. Maybe I will sleep a little better tonight.

Holy Crap!


I made the discovery of a lifetime at 2:30 AM this morning. The new iPod nano (as shitty as it is), has turned me on to iTunes as a new source of downloads. While checking the depth of their library, I ran across a previously unknown-to-me live EP by the band Shiner. The first song is called "Fetch a Switch", and the live version has become since last of my favorite songs of all time! One of those things you hear and just know that 40 years from will still be captivated by.

Dark, brooding, and with the slowgrind KC MO sound Shiner had perfected, this song has particularly simple and personal lyrics, no doubt a reflection of songwriter Epley's terrible childhood. Absolutely painful to contemplate while listening, but requiring continuous dissection afterwards, it's brilliant stuff from a brilliant band.

The song starts like this:

Brian Epley says to the crowd "Evolution is just...a theory" and the music starts. Slowly, the first verse unfolds.

Stop your crying boy / I'll make you scream.
Fetch a switch for me.
Dance for Mama boy / and get some smokes.
Don't let your Daddy see that smile.
I'll make you pay for it.


Listen NOW!: "1. Fetch a Switch (Live) - Shiner"