Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dating. Show all posts

Friday, March 13, 2015

The Cereal Allegory...

 
Den of the Beastly Bear

Hi Folks!

Let's lighten up a little after those last 2 blogs.


Anybody else remember cereal variety packs from their childhood?
As one of three kids (sometimes 4 when my step sister stayed with us) we always found it hard to agree on which breakfast cereal we wanted.


My twin sisters were fond of the "Two against one, we win!" rule,
which I of course thought was complete crap!

This is where the variety pack would shine. Everybody could have what they wanted, and no-one "Won".


What was even better is you didn't need a bowl! That's right, any 5-year-old with a sharp knife and a spoon could eat right out of the box! And they were DESIGNED that way. They even had perforations showing you right where to cut. Hey, it was the 60's & 70's...don't judge!

As I got older and started dating and later married I developed a little thing I like to call "The Cereal Allegory". I try to impart this wisdom to men I meet that are thinking of getting married.

It goes something like this:

When you are dating, it's like you're eating from the variety pack.
You meet and date many different types of women.

Like "Rice Krispies". She's nice, interesting, but she just won't stop talking.

Or "Fruity Pebbles". She's colorful and sweet...almost too sweet and in the end lacks substance.


Then there's "All Bran". Kind of boring though you know she's good for you, you just need a little more excitement.

There's "Raisin Bran". "All Bran's" cousin...she's a little more put together, a little more hip drawing you in with her fancy clothes (Raisins). But in the end it's a soggy mess too.

"Frosted Flakes" may seem appealing. She starts out sweet, but underneath you realize she really IS a flake as she starts telling you about her first suicide attempt on your very first date. Yikes!

Then there's "Muesli". At first you get that really 'cool chick' vibe until you discover she's some new age hippie vegan that refuses to shave...

As a modern man of the world, you might even try "Coco Puffs"!

Eventually, you find what you believe to be the perfect breakfast cereal(woman), "Lucky Charms"!!!

Why is she perfect? Well, because she takes the boring every day(crappy oat cereal) and does special things(tasty marshmallows)
to make it all palatable.

What special things you may ask? Going to a movie she can't stand just because you want to see it. Surprise sex. Showing up at your place with a pizza, a six-pack, and a hummer because you've had a bad day at work. Those kinds of things.

So you say,"I'm In! That's it, I'm gonna sign a contract that I'm only gonna have "Lucky Charms" for the rest of my life!" And you Propose.

You get married and for a while everything is great, you slog through the crappy oat cereal because the tasty marshmallows make it all worth while!

But after a few years you start to notice there are more and more bits of crappy oat cereal and fewer and fewer tasty marshmallows.

Your single friends keep reminding you of the variety they are experiencing...how "Sugar Smacks" really likes that kind of thing and is all kinds of 50 Shades of Grey.

So you complain to management...

Management kindly reminds you that tasty marshmallows were not specified in your contract, and perhaps if you picked up your socks more often...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" you reply. "Tasty marshmallows were certainly implied if not exactly specified."

At which point she smiles, reminds you that you are free to break your contract at any time. It'll just cost you half of everything you own.
Plus child support.
And alimony.
And half your retirement.

So you suck it up, pick up your socks and move on.

Still wanna get married?

Thus concludes The Cereal Allegory.

Now, I'm sure there is a female corollary to all this...

Something to do with cards and flowers, moonlit walks along the beach and probably portion size.

But I'm a man and can only speak of that which I know.

So, before the hate mail starts to arrive please note this is all in good fun and not meant to hurt anyone's feelings nor are the specific girls based on anyone living or dead! 
Well maybe...but I'm not saying!

Hope you all have a great weekend!

Be Well Folks!

Beastly Bear




Thursday, June 19, 2014

The art of Disinformation...

Den of the Beastly Bear

Hi Folks!

The other night I was talking with a fellow Team Leader at work...we had experienced some severe weather in the state with a possible tornado touchdown near Hale, MI.

Jokingly I said "I'm a Yale man myself..."

He looked at me and said "If you went to Yale, what the Hell are you doing working in here?!?"

"No no, I was born at Yale Community Hospital...in YALE, MI." 

"Oh," he said "oh that makes more sense..."

This got me to thinking...I know, shocking right? Lol

About the art of disinformation. Not lying "per se", but presenting facts in a certain way. Saying or not saying something that leads the listener to make assumptions.

As an example, before I started dating Momma Bear...I dated a bit. At the time I was driving Semi's for Perry Drugs. An honorable, if less than exciting or profitable sounding venture.

So should I meet a young lady in a bar and she asked me what I did for a living I would say that I was an 
"Interstate Pharmaceutical transportation Engineer" for Perry Drugs.

"Oh my..." She might answer, hearing "Pharmaceutical" and "engineer" in the same sentence. "Tell me about that."

"Well," I'd continue "I get a company vehicle, because I travel all throughout Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin. When I have to be out overnight the company puts me up in a hotel room, and pays for my dinner. I check routing, visit stores, interact with vendors from multiple companies. I check and verify the security of the drug shipments on the route I'm on any given day...it's time consuming but very rewarding."

Now technically all that is true...but it certainly gives a different impression.

"Wow, where did you go to school?" She'd ask.

This one was a little dodgier...
"Ever hear of M.I.T. ?"

"Oh yes..." She'd say breathlessly.

Here I give a slight nod of the head, along with a minimalist shrug and raising of the palms as if to say "There you have it..."

"Cool..." She might answer...come on, this was almost 30 years ago....cool was, well...cool! Lol

Again, I never said I went to M.I.T....I merely asked if she'd ever heard of it.

Now before you all jump on my head for being a player and a Cad...I never kept up the charade longer than a few minutes...gently teasing them about being perhaps a little too trusting(gullible).

There was a time though when I used the art to confound an idiot, and send him sputtering out of my life forever.

After graduating High School I went to work for Gell's Sporting Goods full time...the military wouldn't take me, so why not?

After a couple years I was promoted to Assistant Manager myself after one of ours quit and Steve returned to Manage the Livonia Store.

I almost never had problems with customers, even belligerent ones seldom fazed me...but there was this one guy.

Let me preface this story thus:
I am a hunting/shooting/reloading nut. Rifle, pistol, shotgun, bow and arrow...you name it! Have been since the age of 12 or so. Read every magazine/book/article about the subject I could lay my hands on. I memorized ballistics charts and reloading manuals like other kids did batting averages. At 15 I was the youngest person Gell's ever hired to work the gun counter, I was of course too young to do the paperwork but I did everything else. The depth and breadth of my knowledge of the subjects was attested to in that if the older guys didn't know the answer to a question...they asked me.

One day two fellows came in to look at reloading equipment, an obvious "newbie", accompanied by an
"expert" read as "know-it-all".

I'd seen this before...

Newbie wants to "try it out" for a minimal outlay of cash.
The Expert trying to impress the newbie with his vast and superior knowledge tries to oversell his "friend" things he neither needs, nor is likely to use or use properly. Reloading is definitely an area where a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

As they walk up, the expert jumps in an starts to run the show...telling me what he wants, how he wants it, and so forth. The newbie is obviously uncomfortable.
So when the expert was done, I politely asked the newbie himself a couple points of clarification. With his answers in hand I began assembling for him a "beginners" beginners kit. One that would give him an introduction, at minimal cost and maximum safety.

Every step of the way, the expert had a comment, nothing was right, nothing was good enough....at every comment I stopped, explained my decision...gave the pro's and con's of going a different way...and each time the newbie trusted my judgment.

Finally the expert says to the newbie in exasperation:
"Don't you hate these fucking smart ass kids that's think they know every fucking thing!?!"

"Excuse me?" I said, not sure I'd just heard what I thought I just heard.

"You heard me..." He said.

"Sir if your recommendations are any indication...they show your knowledge to not only be limited, but dangerous for a beginner."

"Fuck you" he snarled.

"Sir, if you're not happy with the level of service being provided the door is located at the front of the store. If you can't find it on your own, I'd be happy to show it to you."

"You can't talk to me like that you fucking asshole, where's your Manager?"

"I AM my Manager sir..."

"Then I want to talk to the owner!"

"My Dad won't give a shit what you have to say..."

"Fuck this!" He sputtered "I'm outta here!!" 
And out he stomped, leaving me alone with the newbie.

"I'm sorry about my buddy." He said apologetically.
"As you can tell he's a bit of an asshole..."

"My apologies to you, I shouldn't have let him get under my skin...but that last comment was just too much!"
"You've got a good safe kit here, I started with one just like it when I was 14. It will do what you want with a maximum amount of safety. And if you decide you like it and want to upgrade, you're out a minimum amount of money"

"One question though..." He asked leaning in conspiratorially "Is your Dad really the owner?"

I leaned in as well "I never said he was. I said 'my dad won't give a shit what you have to say' which is true. 
I never implied my Dad owned the store...he made that assumption."

He got a big smile on his face and stuck out his hand.
"Rick" he said.
I shook his proffered hand.
"Joe"

"Your secret's safe with me...damn I wish I was as fast on my feet as you are!"
He gathered up his booty and walked off chuckling.

A month later Rick was back, enjoyed it so much he wanted a "real" set-up...asked for me by name.
Became a loyal customer, right up until they closed the doors due to the owners retiring and their kids not wanting anything to do with the family business.

Never saw Rick's buddy again...not that I missed him!

Be Well Folks!!!

Beastly Bear





Saturday, April 26, 2014

First loves...

Den of the Beastly Bear

Hi Folks!

Some guys and I were talking at work tonight about first loves...

Tom told me about his, how when he first laid eyes on that body he was transfixed!

Matt told me of the way his made him feel, she excited him like nothing ever had!

I had to tell them how mine got away...and how it made me sick to my stomach! Angry and hurt, and I never got over it...

Let me tell you how we met.

After my car accident, I was driving a 1970 Dodge Dart Swinger in Olive Drab paint...imagine if an army tank slept with Grandma's sedan, their offspring would have been that car. With a 1 barrel, 198 c.i. slant-six it couldn't get out of it's own way! We paid $50 for it, from a guy whose Mother was too old to drive...yeah, it was one of those.


Embarrassed of my crappy car, I wasn't dating much...

A guy my Mother worked with, said he knew a gal that would be perfect for me, and she should bring me over to meet her. He told my mother of her unsurpassed beauty, classy and mild mannered...a perfect match for a young man. Mom asked if I was interested...

Well, Duh!

When the day arrived I was excited, I couldn't believe my luck...ladies like her were few and far between. Normally out of my league, I couldn't believe I had a chance with her...

As we pulled into the driveway he came out of the house to greet us, he told us she was in the barn with the horses and he'd take us out to meet her.

We entered the barn, which was dimly lit...shafts of light showing swirling dust motes, and smelling of clean hay.

He led us around a corner and there she was...the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in all my 17 years!

A 1974 black on black Pontiac Firebird Formula!
Oh My God!!! I was in Love!!!

My Mom didn't know a lot about cars, she told me it was this fellows wife's car. She didn't like the normal hood so he'd gotten a fiberglass hood in an "L Eight Eighty" style she told me. I could see now it was in fact an L88 style hood, like on hot rod Corvettes!

He'd removed the original exhaust and replaced it with 4" flat black sidepipes that ended just before the rear tires. He'd also replaced the standard gearshift with a Hurst short throw shifter, on the 4-speed manual tranny. My Mom couldn't remember what size engine was in it "but it ends in two letters, like O.H., or H.D. or maybe H.O....

When I popped the hood, it was in fact a 455 c.i. H.O. (high output for you non-car folks) that he'd dressed up with chromed valve covers, chromed air filter housing, even a chromed master cylinder cover!!!

His wife wanted a new car, and he was willing to make us a deal on this one, for $3,700.00! Quite a bit of money for a guy with a $3.75 an hour job, but if Mom would co-sign a loan...
Oh MAN, I'd be the King of my High School!!!!

"Whadya think?" he asked...as if he didn't know.

"She's a beaut!" I said "can we start'er up?"

"Sure," he said and tossed me the keys.

Herein lay the problem, while I knew in theory how to drive a stick at that time I'd never actually driven one.
But I DID know how to start it!

As I pushed in the clutch and moved the shifter to neutral, he told me:
"Put in a competition clutch too, when it needed a new one, higher lift cams and a 750 cfm double pumper carb...she drives and shifts like a dream..."

I turned the key and she rumbled to life, and I couldn't keep the grin off my face...

"I don't know what all that means," Mom said "but I think he likes it!"

"I do Ma, I really do!!! Can we get it?!? Please?" I begged, yes I begged! I'm not too proud to admit it.

"We haven't even driven it yet, and you don't know how...I'll take it for a drive to make sure it drives OK, and everything works..."

"There's not a thing wrong with this car, I wouldn't do that to you..." My ally told her.

"Still, I'll feel better if I drive it first...to be sure." Mom said.

"OK, let me get the door...I got some other goodies I'll let you guys have, I'll show your son what all I've got until you get back.  I got receipts and service records, the original window sticker...all kinds of stuff."

He began the "show and tell" as Mom eased her out of the barn, down the driveway and out into the street. Oh what a sound she made as she accelerated down the street.

I was collecting quite a bit of loot as Mom pulled back in the driveway some 15 mins. later. 

I knew something was amiss as soon as she got out of the car...

She held the keys out to her friend, and he put out a palm to accept them.

"Well?" He said "nice ride huh?!?"

She looked past him, to me...looked back at him, in the the eye and slowly said:
"No...Fucking...Way! No Fucking Way you're selling him that car!!!"

I was stunned...I'd never heard my Mother use the "F word" in anything less than in the peak of utmost anger before...never conversationally!!!

"Why not? What's wrong with it?" I asked

"You'll kill yourself in that car...or worse yet, someone else! That car is WAY too fast for you...and YOU, " she said rounding on the owner "you should have your fucking head examined for trying to sell that, that... BEAST to a 17 year old boy!!!"

With that, she turned on her heel and marched back to our car...

He looked at me "Sorry chief, looks like that's a no sale" he said, and shook my hand.

And that was the last time I saw her...I loved her, and lost her, before she was even mine...and I was sick over it!

I've never forgotten her...even now, some 34 years later I can still see her sitting there, a black beauty beckoning me to a life of thrills and adventure!!!

It's true, you never forget your first love...

Be Well Folks!!!

Beastly Bear




Friday, January 24, 2014

It's just not right...

Den of the Beastly Bear

Hello Folks!

IT'S FRIDAY!!!

It has recently come to my attention, once again...
That I'm getting old!
I don't feel old...I mean aside from a couple aches and pains, in my head I swear I'm only about 28!!! Lol
NOT 51, it's just not right!!!  :-)

The other day I was talking with a fellow at work, he's been dating this girl for a while and they've been having some problems. He was kind of asking a "what would you do?". Which got us to swapping war stories about dating. He had asked me how long I'd been married, to which I replied 26 years.

So I was telling him about this girl I dated, and more precisely why it had ended.
Long story short, we had made plans to go out, I had called her to say I was out of work and was going home to shower and shave and I'd be right over.
She said she was going to lay down for about an hour as she hadn't been to bed yet (she worked nights). I told her we could certainly take a "rain check", no she insisted "I want to see you...just give me a call when before you come, just to make sure I can do it!"
When I called, her phone was busy(she had her own phone in her room), repeatedly. Finally after calling for a half hour I decided to just drive over, if it turned out she didn't feel up to going out, I'd just come home.
When I pulled up to her house her car was not there.
When I rang the bell, her mother answered the door with a quizzical look on her face.
"Hi Mrs. X, is Sherri ready?"
"Ummm, she went to a party Joe..."
My turn to be confused.
"A party? A party where? We had a date..."
"Well, it's at Steve's."
"Steve as in ex-boyfriend Steve?!?" I asked
"Yeah, that's the one...I'm so sorry Joe" (Mom liked me)
"Have her call me when she gets home." I said, and left.
She never called, so neither did I! I felt I was owed an explanation at least, if not an apology! So ended our relationship.

So after listening to my tale of woe, this guy says.
"Well that was dumb, why didn't you just call her?"
"Because she ditched me for her ex...she should have called me!!!"
"No," says he "I mean at the party, why didn't you call her RIGHT THEN?"
"Because I didn't know Steve's number, and I doubt he'd have put her on the phone."
He looks at me like I'm particularly stupid and says slowly as if speaking to a child "On.....her....cell....phone"
"Well Einstein, because it was 1984 and the only people with mobile phones were CEO's, doctors, and high end lawyers. AND they were permanently affixed in their car!!!"

Another gaze into the generation gap came playing cards with some buddies at work a few years ago.
At lunch we were playing poker, for quarters. One of the guys we were playing with was trying to get all the state quarters for his collection, so if he saw one he didn't have he'd snatch it up. 
So as we're playing, I happened to ante in with a Bicentennial quarter.
His eyes lit up as he snatched it out of the pot.
"What the hell is that???" He asked studying it closely.
"That's just a bicentennial quarter, not a state one."
"What's that?!?" He asked puzzled
I'm said "Come on man! The 'Bicentennial'? 1776-1976?? County's 200th. Birthday??? Parades, fireworks, speeches, special editions of every damn thing???? How can you NOT remember the Bicentennial?????"
I admit to sounding a tad condescending...
He just looked at me and said:
"Dude, I was born in '77!"
Well played sir...well played!

Hope you all feel younger than you are!!!

Be Well!

Beastly Bear