darren wilson. tony stewart. both men have been on my mind this week and not just because i’m in the badlands. both men are in the news and have had their lives destroyed by events that took place within just a few minutes. i don’t think either of them are bad men but they will always be known for their bad act.
by all accounts, darren wilson was a perfectly ordinary suburban cop with nary a disciplinary action taken against him. he encountered michael brown on a ferguson street and within minutes he had shot michael dead. rioting, outrage, and possible murder and federal civil rights charges against him.
tony stewart ran over and killed racer kevin hart as hart walked out onto the track to confront stewart. prior to this incident, stewart was known as an aggressive driver but offtrack was considered a teddy bear.
i feel sorry for both men because both will always be thought of as murderers. they played by the rules most of their lives, well, at least aside from the few minutes of crazytown. wilson is in hiding with his family. even if he escapes legal consequences, he’s going to have a permanent crimp in his neck from looking over his shoulder. tony hasn’t raced since the accident and lives for the moment in seclusion. i can’t imagine him ever having the focus and courage to drive again.
let’Das say you are a professional in a position of trust–like, say, a lawyer or investment advisor–and let’s say you use your client’s money as if it were your personal checking account. do it once, okay, that’s troubling. do it twice, whoa there! do it three times and we get to call you bernie madoff!
.i don’t feel sorry for the madoffs of the world, but i feel sorry for tony and darren. but i gotta ask–
for an agoraphobic, i sure do get around! today, i’m heading into des moines and from there i’m striking north for canada. i’ll be out of the country for close to a full month with a catch me if you can schedule–
in 2011, i made a new year’s resolution to spend facetime with every one of my then 325 facebook friend within the calendar year. it was an adventure and in one 17 day period, i circumnavigated the globe and visited friends in 11 countries. my passport is a mess.
so how do you pack for a month long trip? i do it in two bags, one that serves as my office and one for my clothes. i buy hanes three pack t-shirts and good news is that they are cheap enough that i consider them disposable. i am a huge fan of reversible clothing. i like baby wipes for everything, including the inevitable disasters. . . .
i always take with me my william clark doll. william clark was a fearless adventurer, famously traveling from st. louis to the northwest coast with his friend merriweather lewis and the lahmi shashone woman sacajawea charbonneau. i bet he was a big believer in baby wipes, especially since sacajawea had her son jean-baptiste with her!
some of my friends are very much like me and are afraid to leave the house. jeez, i spent most of my life with anxiety attacks that kept me trapped in my house. in the year 2011, i learned to get out of the house. when someone asks me how i did it, it’s very simple: you have to make your car your home. you have to make your seat on the plane your home. you have to be exactly where you are and make that part of the universe yours. you are entitled to peace and calm and a sense that you are welcomed by everyone.
robin williams is upstairs at the comedian’s club, hanging with chris farley, john belushi, tony hancock, doodles weaver and freddie prinze. . .
NOT the freddie prinze having a bitchfest with keifer sutherland. nope, i’m talking about his father, the star of the popular seventies show “chico and the man” which was canceled when freddie prinze shot himself to death. in front of his manager dusty snyder. who must have been in therapy for years.
robin had family–children and a loving wife susan. he had success–well, except for the very unfortunate movie patch adams. and he left four movies in varying degrees of completion. including a sequel to mrs. doubtfire and another in the night at the museum franchise. he was a spokesman for st. judge’s children’s hospital. family, creative success, purpose–he had it all. and then on sunday evening, he tried to kill himself by slitting his wrists. unsuccessful at doing anything more than inflicting superficial wounds, he used a belt and a closet door and hung himself.
i have struggled, particularly this past year. with thoughts that i have no purpose, that i have lost some vital connections with my family, that the world would be quite a bit better without me.
in other news, this particular snake was counting on me. i fed him mice, gave him water, but he died. wow, disposing of his body was quite an enterprise. the apartment smells to high heaven because the blowflies deposited larvae before i got the courage to pick up mr. snake and put him in a garbage bag.
i know what it’s like to wake up and think “i’m still here. it’s not time to die. God, can’t this end?” but i have always known that i wouldn’t do anything to harm myself because i don’t want to harm my sons, my stepson, my stepdaughter, and my exhusband that way. and sometimes, just that is enough to keep me going.
so i gotta ask. . .
we miss you, and i’m sorry that there wasn’t anything that could make you stay. . . what is it about the funniest people hiding the greatest sadness? maybe comedy is a compensation for sadness.
i hope you’re having a wonderful time hanging out at the comedian’s club.
yes, i’m roughly your age so i definitely identify. you split with the hulk and then you felt a little lonely, a little less than the beauty you once were, a little lost and vulnerable. and then you met charlie.
charlie hill? everybody told you it was a big mistake. he was eighteen years old and he didn’t get with you because of your pretty hair or your delightful smile. it was all about the benjamins, baby! and ps his hair is a big mistake too.
linda, everybody thought you were pathetic. they thought he was a gold digger and that was certainly true. you gave him an allowance, you bought him cars and watches, i bet you paid for every meal. and when you got engaged, you were the one to buy the ring.
you guys split up and you were generous with what you let him keep–some cash, the bentley, and the engagement ring. it was humiliating and painful, i’m sure. but then there was worse to come. he has sued you for 1.5 million dollars, claiming that you forced him to work for free on your property and on your boat for nearly four years. one point five million, four years, that’s $375k per year of charlie’s time.
here’s a picture of charlie working on your boat. i have photoshopped out the gun to his head.
please, linda, you did what you did because you weren’t doing the one thing you needed to do, something my mom taught me about being independent and loving yourself.
i sure do feel for you. it’s tough when you reach the age when the bag boy at the grocery store doesn’t even bother with a bit of a flirt. but no more charlies. a vibrator and a joel osteen positive mental attitude video should be sufficient.
i never used to pay attention to cars. they were merely receptacles for people, pets and my cosmetics case to get around in. then i fell in love–
i bought my car, a 350z with a chromillusion finish, from a kid in naperville. dude was holding back the tears when i gave him the cash. of course, anybody would feel that way saying goodbye to this sweet ride. but it takes a lot of tender loving care. only the finest handwash for this baby!
now that i’m pretty much living out of my car, i really appreciate it all the more. the past several saturdays i’ve been taking my sweetass car to shows.
people who are just as in lust with their cars gather together to ogle each other’s rides. my car is not technically a supercar. in fact, it’s a cheap ride that has a fancy paint job. but the folks at supercar saturdays and v12 automotive have invited me to the bannockburn show on this coming saturday!
generally, car shows are a guy thing. but my friend carolyn quinn is coming in and we will be the thelma and louise of the joint. minus the finale–
a friend, a true friend, might just be willing to hold your hand in the toughest times. thank you carolyn and thank you to all my friends!
ryan is suffering. today’s my birthday and i’m not spending it with the most wonderful ex-boyfriend in the world.
he’s always sending me these messages because a perfect ex is very supportive! my exhusband maximillian is exactly the same way which makes him the second best ex ever!
today is my birthday. ordinarily, i would spend it with my ex husband just because he’s wonderful. unfortunately, it didn’t work out this year and so i briefly considered ryan. . .
ryan, really, we both have to move on especially now that you and eva are becoming parents. the arlynn presser t-shirt isn’t going to make her feel strong and confident as she should!
one wonderful thing about facebook (and twitter!) (and email!) and (text messaging!) is that people can say happy birthday without having to make a trip to the post office or even getting on the horn. i’ve had so many messages that i am only sad that i haven’t been able to keep up. but the messages make me feel loved and special and very much like i was wearing a tiara all day long! it made me realize that i should never pass up the opportunity to send a birthday greeeting. so thank you for making my day and this is coming to you from my heart!
i guess fifty cent now has grounds to sue me for butchering his song. sigh. or maybe you’re going to sue me for hurting your ears.
warner brothers owns the rights to the traditional “happy birthday to you” song and will until 2030. in the european union, the copyright extends til 2016. which is why the waitress at outback steakhouse won’t sing happy birthday to you. please mr. fifty, don’t sue me!
the anna karenina principle of relationships goes roughly like this:
don’t get me wrong–i appreciate a russian literary minded dude just as much as the next gal.* but i think tolstoy had it wrong. sure, unhappy families are interesting and exotic and make for great reality television. but happy families? well, they can’t all be the same because my facebook friends lane and sheila wheeler and their daughter star are, well, not the same as any other happy family.
there is no holiday i know that doesn’t get kicked off without an email from lane. he compiles and creates the best jokes and observations that whets your appetite for halloween right around october fifteenth and st. patrick’s day on march 1. the family is the one you know at the end of the block whose halloween decorations inspire selfies on the front lawn and christmas stuff creates parking jams from people who put out a single wreath on the front porch but aspire to more. the wheelers are happy precisely because they reach right out and grab life for a bff hug.
this july i was delighted to join the wheelers for their traditional christmas celebration. there was a tannenbaum, a viewing of frosty the snowman, seasonal sweaters, christmas cookies, revelers, and white elephant gifts.
i took home a funnel cake maker. i had been hoping for diamonds, but i think that’s the point of white elephant presents.
and of course, there were carols. . .
i felt festive and gay as i left the joint. and also, just a teeny bit envious. the wheelers are happy. and not the same as every other happy family. i would like that for myself. and for everyone else.
so my thank you note to the wheelers (all right you can watch it too) is enclosed herein. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sj0Vl2t2p_4
*maybe not putin. i’m not clear on whether putin has written any novels or plays, but he’s a bit of a rennaisance man, what with his karate and bear wrestling and singing. just the sending missiles to ukraine to shoot down planes is not a hobby i appreciate.