Jim's quiet musings . . .

I just changed this to a public blog. I had initially intended to keep it among friends and my main worry was placing it out into cyberland where people who use four letter expletives in every sentence or every other word exist. Now THERE is a subject. What do people think about individuals who talk like that? I tend to have a rather colorful tendency towards profanity at times and usually utilize the rationalization that it goes with the clientele I work with (prisoners). An excuse and a justification at the very least as I really don't like reading the . . er, uh . . . crap. It tends to give me an image of some neandethal on the other side of my computer screen and certainly does nothing to impress me regarding the individuals inteligence. I am much more impressed with a blinding riposte than a constant drolling on of four letter or profane expletives. So why, might you ask, am I making my blog public? Risks. I've learned that you have to take risks in life in order to get anywhere in life. Besides, this is not an online message board, although I am considering making it so . . . if I can just delve into Blogback and determine how to make it one. I realize that I may get mail. Well, good. I like mail. Which brings me to a totally different topic of discussion that has been weighing heavy on my mind lately. Speaking in general terms, I recently received an e-mail from a close friend on the internet that disturbed me greatly. I hesitate to give the details so will keep it in general terms . . . to do that, I will have to tell a brief story. When I was a kid, I was one of those curious little buggers who went over to your house and got real nosey. I pulled out drawers and looked under beds cause I wanted to know, "Whacha got?" I'm a recovering medicine cabinet looker also. Just gotta see how the other half lives. I'm not rationalizing when I say it is harmless but lately I've been chastised for the way I am. Seems I ask too many questions. Hummm. Actually, hearing of this pissed me off (that was six letters by the way) to no end. I am many things, but I'm not a stalker or a weirdo. I also refuse to be somebody I'm not. This e-mail, although seemingly harmless, was just a big mistake. One of those things like . . . . so-in-so said such-in-such and perhaps you should do so-in-so. God how I hate third party bullcrap (eight letters)! I'm one of those people who says what I think no matter who it hurts, embarrasses or tee's off. That is the other person's problem. If ya got a problem with me, then PLEASE have the cajones to address me, not go crawling around my back and dribbling to some other fool about me, who then decides to address it with me . . . Do ya know what I mean? Jesus! Have the audacity to address it with me, don't drag some other person into it. Whew! I know I have to look at this for ME, cause I'm really carrying it with me . . . gotta let it go. The e-mail COULD have been just this other third party person taking it upon themselves to do the dirty work, which infuriates me even more. Do you know how I handle that stuff? When some third person takes something to me like that, I tell them they should tell the other person that it is THEIR problem. Cowardice pisses me off too. Enough. I'm just getting myself all worked up over this. It's the principle of the thing though. My dad used to always say, "Anyone can bitch son. If ya got a complaint, write your congressman." He would get a piece of notebook paper, sit me down, give me a pen or a pencil and make me write letters to some political figure. I often wonder what the congressman or senator thought about getting a note from a little kid complaining that the secret decoder ring he ordered from a bubblegum package never showed up. When I was married (Hell in living color) to Terry, she used to chastise me about my friends. She would always talk behind their backs and never liked any of my friends but was never ballsy enough to tell them what she thought. Always into that third party stuff. I eventually told her that it was none of her damn (sorry) business as they were my friends, not hers. I know, I know . . . there are those of you out there who live in that dream world that exists between some married couples . . . the old, "What is yours is mine and vice versa" bullcrap. Well, if experience speaks for itself, marriage is NOT what it is knocked up to be. It is not a license to control the other individual or even to have a say about how they live their life. Co-existence is a VERY WIDE topic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons I wince at marriage. Too many women have wanted to change me. My office mate, Wanda, and I have discussed this to know end. She marvels at how I am so independent and we have laughs about women who castrate their husbands or partners. Not this guy. You got a problem with how I act or what I do, we'll talk . . . . BUT, if it is not something that I care to change, there is the door honey! Okay . . . I feel a lot better now. Blogged out. What a treat to be able to voice your opinion freely and then place it out into cyberspace for all to read. A bit scary I will have to admit, but such a freedom. Stay tuned for a link that I know all you guys will love. My friend Henry from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada and the author or the game, "Scrupples" is probably the worlds most vocal opponent of male castration as any I've met. I will find his site and then place the link here for all to ponder over. Till then, stay in touch my friends . . . . -Jeeem-