The Grass is Never Greener

I've lived a pretty uninteresting life, story-wise. I couldn't regale you with tales of riding on car hoods, or getting drunk and breaking into some place. I've never been drunk, never even touched a drug, and married the same woman that was my first kiss.

The one stupid thing I did in my life, happened the night before my wedding shower. Some friends and I went sledding at the biggest hill in town, and noticed a ramp someone had built at the bottom of said hill. I guess this is where my common sense throughout life failed me, and I decided to jump that ramp.

I couldn't tell you exactly why I had that thought, perhaps I was seeking some last attempt at a ridiculous story to tell before I got married. I couldn't tell you exactly why I told my friend to stand behind it until I was halfway down the hill so that I could steer toward it, and I'm sure he couldn't tell you exactly why he listened instead of telling me what a stupid idea it was.

According to him, I had to have gotten at least 10 feet in the air. The problem here is, I didn't fall off -- I stayed sitting flat on my butt, on a sled that was well off the ground, and landed it perfectly... against the upward slope of another hill.

The rest of my night is pretty uninteresting; hobbling toward the car with my friend's help, getting driven home while lying in the back seat, and falling asleep halfway through "A Scanner Darkly" while my friends snuck out aren't part of the epic sledding jump tale I should be telling. But like I said, I've lived a boring life -- to me, this isn't a "Oh man! You should have seen it!" story. It is a reminder of why I love the life I have chosen.

Like probably everyone else, my mind wanders sometimes. I start to think about the experiences I may have missed out on in life. I am not my Uncle Andy, able to talk about the time he was hiking through Scotland and ran into Phil Collin's property caretaker, who said he was welcome to stay the night at Phil's mansion if he needed a place -- no, he wasn't there before you ask. I am not even my brother with, I'm sure, countless stories about roommates, and bartending, and parties, and traveling the US to do bird counts, and past loves.

But everytime I stop and think about not having those stories to tell, my tailbone aches. A bitter reminder of the one time that I did do something worthy enough to talk about, and I regret it constantly. I may think that living on my own, and traveling the world, and getting completely wasted, would have been fun experiences to have, but they aren't the life for me.

I've found a woman I'm completely in love with, and had a daughter that brightens my day the second I walk in the door. I can handle not having any epic stories to tell. But whenever I think the grass may have been greener on the other life path, my tailbone hurts like hell, and I remember that I'm happy exactly where I am.

Ripped from the Headlines

A brisk October morning in New York City. The elevator door opens on the 17th floor of a swanky apartment complex. Out steps Chip Dipson, detective extraordinaire.

His rich brown, sturdy, leather dress shoes clap on the thinner-then-paper carpeted hallway floor. His perfectly creased black pants and the ends of his tan trench coat, sway around his ankles and hips respectively, as he confidently strolls past each apartment. He briefly adjusts his tie, and his black button-up shirt as he opens the door to apartment #29.

Inside the studio apartment, there are police officers standing in every corner. Pizza boxes are cluttered around the reclining chair that sits in front of the 36" HDTV. A couch with pullout bed is against the hallway wall, trash strewn about in the sheets.

In the kitchen, a massive pile of dirty dishes is stacked in the sink and cigarette butts are scattered across the counter top, as well as the entire apartment. On the outside wall, sits a computer desk, with a large, flat screen monitor, combination printer/fax, and dead man slumped over the keyboard.

"Alright Jim, what'd you get me out of my nice, warm bed for?" Chip says as he slides his left hand into his pant pocket and takes off his sunglasses with his right, a hint of frustration in his voice, like he's too good to be working this case.

"Well Chip, Oscar Madison over here seems to have gotten himself shot in the back of the head." He says nonchalantly, motioning toward the dead body laying on the computer desk, blood running from the bullet hole in the back of his head, down the side of his face.

"There a Felix, or Mrs. Madison?" Chip asks, still holding his sunglasses in front of him, open, as if ready to put them on at a moments notice.

"Doesn't look like it, he seems to live alone. Not that any roommate or spouse would ever put up with a mess like this." Responds Jim, as he precariously picks up a moldy, half-eaten piece of pizza from a pizza box balanced on the arm of the recliner and tosses it back down with a disgusted look on his face.

Chip, having tossed up the ends of his trench coat and perched the tips of his thumbs into his belt loops, strolls over to the dead man. He leans over his body, examining the bullet hole in his head, then turns back to Jim.

"This whole thing reminds me of the case we had last week," He declares, holding up a picture of another dead man on his LG Dare cell phone, "You notice any similarities?"

"That guy was equally trashy. Life didn't seem to be working out for either of them." Jim replied distractedly as he held up a porno mags sideways with one hand, eyeing the centerfold.

Chip was peering around the dead man, at the trash strewn about the computer desk, looking for some kind of connection between the two murder cases. His eyes panned across the desk, and stopped abruptly at the tray of the printer.

"Hey Jim,"

"Yeah Chip?"

"Didn't the last victim have an unemployment check in the mail that he was holding when he was killed?"

"Uuh, I think so." Jim said, as he tossed the magazine back down on the bed and began to walk over to Chip.

"Well, if so, then we may have found our connection." Chip said confidently, holding a freshly printed resume up for Jim to see.

"Are you saying we have a killer out there targeting people who've been laid off? With the job market the way it is right now, probably half the city is at risk!"

"It looks like it could not only hurt to have your resume up to date, but it may even kill." declared Chip smoothly, as he slid his sunglasses back on and strolled out the door to the apartment, rock music blaring.

Suddenly everything went black.

In a double wide trailer, somewhere in Ohio, the every man gets up out of his reclining chair. He mumbles obscenities to himself as he stumbles to the kitchen, limping slightly.

"Stupid fuc... CEOs and big-shot Hollywood writers... think they have a clue about what we're going through." He grumbles.

The factory where he works has been shutdown for four weeks now, and he's too old to keep doing roofing and construction jobs to make ends meet -- his leg is already crying foul. He grabs a half eaten ham sandwich out of the refrigerator and takes a bite as he limps down the hallway to his bedroom, still cursing big-wigs and television networks under his breath.

DEVO was Right

DEVO was Right is a regular post in which I will give absolute, without a doubt proof that we are in fact de-evolving. We are growing more stupid everyday. What is wrong with the world today? Everything in this column is wrong.

For my first ever DEVO was Right, I'm going to post some videos that say it all much better then I ever could. These videos are from a special episode of Countdown with Keith Olbermann on MSNBC. He dedicated the entire episode to healthcare reform and the idiots fighting against it. It's a subject close to my heart because I am paying out the ass for my own health insurance coverage and it's becoming increasingly difficult to continue doing so. So I beg you all to listen to Keith's words and understand the issue. Don't just assume they are taking your coverage away. Think.

This is a playlist, so be sure to watch all 5 parts.

A Profile in Pictures

I made this profile of sorts for a video game site I frequent. Thought I might as well post it here. I like to call it a profile in pictures.





He REALLY likes video games.



And music.

His birthday is September 8th, and he is 23 years old.

He lives in Michigan.

The first thing he remembers wanting to be was an astronaut.

Then an inventor.

Then a writer.

When he was in middle school he would write pages and pages of stories based on ridiculous anthropomorphic animals that he created, fighting other anthropomorphic animals that he also created.

They did not get raped by tentacles.



His entire life is spent making this woman happy...



...as well as this one.







She will be molded into a nerd.



He delivers newspapers, which means he uses and abuses his car everyday.

And listens to a LOT of podcasts and music while he does it.



He always leaves every single one of his systems plugged in just in case he wants to play an old game at the spur of the moment. He's been on a Starfox 64 kick lately.



He would prefer to display his video games, but hasn't won that argument yet.



He hasn't yet lost the argument for his dvds though.

The big one in the upper right corner is his most prized possession (Shaq is a god).

His most recent life goals include:

being an electrician (He has very little experience),

owning an arcade (He's not sure why he thinks that this would be successful),

and writing for a site that pays him. Be it his own, or anothers.

That's probably all you care to know. He's glad to have shared.

The Proverbial Stick Up Your Ass

What has become of our beloved society? It used to be that people treated each other with kindness and respect. Nowadays it seems everyone has a stick up their ass and is looking to cuss out the first person they see in order to make themselves feel better.

I started a new paper route this Monday. When starting a route, the first day or two usually go pretty badly but then things get progressively better. On my first day I had a friend come with me to help and he was a lifesaver. On the second day however, I was on my own. But things went pretty well except for half of the route that I still hadn't gotten a list typed up for. So I was left to flip pages on an alphabetical list and try to number things as I went along.

I thought I nailed it, I had no extra papers left. When I started to type up that second part of the route though, I realized I had forgotten a street with 2 houses on it. It was already somewhere around 7 at night and like I said, I had no extras so I just added them to the list and took what would inevitably be a complaint. Little did I know it was far more a complaint.

You see, this man was one of those previously mentioned people with sticks shoved so far up their asses that they can taste them. When I pulled up the next day he was getting out of his car, so I drove up to hand him the paper directly.

He immediately launched into a stream of vulgarities that ended with something about the paper always being left in the rain. I kindly told him that I had just started on Monday and since it hadn't rained that it couldn't have been me that ever did that. Then he demanded to know where his paper had been the day before. I apologized nicely despite having already been swore at excessively and told him I was still learning the route. This still wasn't good enough for him and he kept demanding to know where it had been the day before, as if I hadn't already explained and apologized for it. At this point I was fed up and yelled back "Do you have any idea how hard it is to learn over 200 addresses in a day?!"

This left him with an angry grimace and he just walked away. I told my manager about it and he said that it should be fine because the guy probably feels like an ass now, but the whole situation leaves me wondering. When did the entire world become raging pieces of shit? What has made your life so terrible that you feel you need to take it out on the first person you see? Doing that just simply spreads the anger around more and eventually everyone is yelling at everyone else.

So anyone who is reading this, please do me a favor. Go and be really nice to someone today. Tip your mail or paper carrier and tell them what a great job they've been doing. Thank the kid at McDonalds who takes your order and tell them to have a wonderful day. And if you aren't willing to do any of these things, then just stay confined in your house and yell at the TV. It'll do the world good.

Burning Bridges

Dear You-Know-Who,

Our situation has not yet come to a conclusion. Things need to be said, and so I'm going to say them here. I am not sending this to you directly because it is not about you, it is about me. I'm tired of thinking about it and I want to be done with it, so I will say what I need to say now. If you truly care at all about what happened, you will find this, though I can't guarantee that it will matter anymore.

Let's get this out of the way. My entire childhood I looked up to you, I wanted to be just like you. In fact before all of the events of the last year or two took place I still looked up to you, though maybe not in a wanting to be like you way. We went in our own directions and that was fine, but you were still like a brother to me.

At first it was great having you around, a constant companion. We always had the same sense of humor, a lot of the same taste in music and video games, so it was like having a best friend always there. I miss that, but you took advantage of it.

I am not sorry for anything that happened. If I had that night to do over again, I would do the exact same things. Know this one thing, I will never apologize for anything I've done. But if you think an apology will make anything that you did right, then you are mistaken.

I gave you access to everything I have. I let you be around those who I would protect with my life, and you endangered them. I gave my word to the people who've given me everything I have, that you were trustworthy. You lied to them, and you stole from them. If anything hurt the worst, it was that you seemed to be unaware of what I knew. I'm not an idiot.

All I ever asked for was honesty. I knew the whole situation would be hard, but if you had been honest about it all we could have worked through it. You wouldn't have slipped into old habits if you had just talked to me openly, and nobody that truly wanted to change would have kept their past with them. For all the times we talked about not burning bridges, you sure burned a lot of them.

The best part of this whole situation is that Emmy won't remember you, and I don't ever want her too. If she goes her whole life without knowing you then it will be for the best, because she wouldn't know the person that I knew. Maybe one day that person will return, but I'm not holding my breath.

Let me be clear, this is not the opening to a dialogue. This is what I need to get off of my chest so that I will stop thinking about what I would say if I ever saw you again. This is me ridding myself of the situation. That's it, it's over now. I've said what I've needed to say, and if you care then you'll find this. The ball is in your court, but I'm done with the game and am moving on with my life. There are only two words with which you can start a further conversation with me, but getting me to trust you, believe you, talk to you, or even want to see you again will be a much greater task.

Emmy 18 Month/Family Pictures

Emmy just turned a year and a half, so we went to get new family pictures as well as ones of just her. Thought I'd make a slideshow of some of them and post it here. Theres one of them that we call the "Hulk picture". See if you can guess which one it is.

Finding My Place in the Gaming World: Is There a Place for an Arcade Today?

This is sort of the journal entry of a soul searching individual. You see, I have no idea what I should do with the rest of my life as far as a job goes. I'm happily married, and have a beautiful daughter, but keeping the bills paid has become more and more an exercise in repetition. It's come to the point that I've decided I need to find something I enjoy doing, instead of just doing whatever comes along. My only jumping off point in this search, is my love of video games.

The world of video games is a big beast though, so where do I fit? Since I was little, I loved writing. I would create characters and tell stories of their adventures, I would even plot out and write sequels to my favorite games (not the perverted kinds). Around high school that all died down, but now I wonder if I could find a place in the struggling video game journalism field. It's the reason this whole website exists actually, so that I can get as much practice writing as possible and maybe get noticed while doing so.

Whether or not that pans out, there's another side of games that I want to explore. My family has the small business owner spark running all through it. From my fathers athletic store, to my uncles men's clothing store, to their fathers painting business, the Young's have always tried their hand at owning businesses. I definitely have that spark, and in searching for a business that I would want to run, I thought of video games.

My small town has very little to do in it, in fact most Saturday nights during high school were spent hanging out in 24 hour gas stations for my friends and I. If you weren't uncool like us though, you drank somewhere, or did worse. I would love to combine my fondness for video games, with a business that might give kids in my town a place to hangout, and an arcade is my best idea to do that. The only question is, can an arcade thrive in this day and age?

Before I got married and my income was still expendable, I got right to work achieving this dream. I hopped on eBay and before long I had a coin-op pool table and 4 arcades, Space Invaders Part II housed in a Space Invaders Deluxe machine, Captain America stuffed into a generic 2 player cabinet, a 1970's OXO pinball, and the unique but failed experiment that was Hyperball, a blend of video game and pinball that I can't get enough of.

But now I'm forced to pay bills instead of buy new machines, so the next step is a much harder one to make. I need to go back to school, as well as start searching for a better paying job that affords me some amount of extra income, and once I have that to fall back on, dive in head first by getting a loan to get a ton more machines and a building for them to go. I'm just not sure if I can take that step with the sinking feeling that it will ultimately fail.

I could bail out now and just sell Captain America on eBay and OXO to my dad (he's a nut for pinball machines of that era), and then keep the others for myself, but I'll always kick myself for not trying. So its do or die time. I don't know how it will work out, but I have to at least try. Let's just hope my town appreciates me trying to keep their kids out of trouble, and supports it.