Come on Man...I'd do it for you

NOTE: I mentioned that I would be reviewing some of my "drafts" and that I might be post a few of them in the future. This is one of them. It was originally written during the last week of 2010

December 2010
I have been posting to this blog for over two years now. In many ways it certainly is not what I thought it would be and on the other hand it is. I have tried to take a lighthearted look at many things and have muddled my way through never really thinking too much as to how it played out. In a strange way, I feel that it is becoming a quasi autobiographical introspect. From the very beginning I have attempted to avoid using actual names of people I write about. I have assigned nicknames to many of them. Most people who know me, can readily identify to whom I am writing.

With that said, let me state this as clear as I can. This is my blog and no one else contributes to it, I have never intentionally written anything that I felt would truly be harmful to anyone, living or dead. Yes, from time to time I express my opinion and I sprinkle in some wry sarcasm. What I write I do so with tongue in cheek. I would never lie on purpose. If someone believes anything I have written is a lie, I guess there is nothing I could write here that would undo that opinion. If one does not care to believe what I write that is his or her prerogative. Although I sometimes use a bit of hyperbole, everything I have written is truthful. Sometimes you have to read what is written "between the lines". If you feel offended, betrayed or insulted then read it over again. Perhaps you did not truly understand what I was trying to say. Or perhaps, your cerebral limitations or your predetermined beliefs, interfere with your ability to truly understand what I am attempting to say.

I have always strive to give each of my postings a positive and affirming spin. I would never want anything I write here to be construed as spiteful, malicious or vengeful. In a bizarre way I write my postings with a positive light.

I am one who is not with out sin. Although I do not live in a glass house therefore I still tend to not throw stones. Those who know me know I am talk way too much and that if you give me enough time I will eventually put my foot in my mouth. Although I usually try to keep a watchful eye on what other think, I also admit that other peoples "petty feeling" matter very little to me. I am confounded that they "simply do not get it."

I think most people consider me a "good guy". I feel that my good nature does not garner me the respect of others. I do not think that I distinguish myself enough, I feel I am perceived as one who sort of goes with the flow.

As I have written before, I played baseball for the Mighty Lakeshore Baptist Bees. One of the teams we would play twice a year was the team sponsored by one of the local Catholic churches, St. John's. At each of our contests, the announcers would state who was at bat as well as who was"on deck". As a small boy child, it was sort of special to hear your name announced. One of players on St. John's had the same last name as me. Of all of the teams that we played each year, St. John's actually had a person who I was actually related to. The two were not the same person. My mother's cousin had a son who played St. John's. After each game with the cheating bastards, mother would drag me over to introduce me to her cousin and her son Bucky my third cousin. It was on one of those occasions that Bucky introduced me to his friend and teammate Bill Sullivan. I think we were either nine or ten at the time.

Several years later while attending Louisiana State University, I was assigned a new roommate. His name was Steve. Steve was from the same home town as I was and had graduated from the local Catholic High School (Jesuit). Steve and I became fast friends. He knew many of the guys I used to play football against back in high school and yes he was friends with both the aforementioned Bucky and Bill. Bucky ended up joining the Army and died in Viet Nam. Bill began attending LSU and he and I hung out a lot. He was the second youngest out of 11 children. He did not have a car and I found myself driving him around. He would show up at my room and ask me to take him somewhere. Usually I would tell him I did not want to go or I did not have time or some other excuse. He would say " Ahhh Come On Man, I'd do it for you." Most of the time I relented. Back in Shreveport we actually had several people convinced we were actual brothers. We even won a trophy as the best Foos Ball team in town. It seemed that no matter where I went, I tended to cross paths with Bill. Eventually I began to see less and less of Bill . In 1974, the Plaintiff and I were married on August 17 at 4:00 PM in the afternoon. I learned the next day that my friend Bill Sullivan had been married at 7:00 PM later that night at the same church......St John's Catholic. On a Saturday in 1981 I along with my Aunt Mary Nell were have a winning day at the local race track. I was standing in line to redeem a winning ticket when someone directly behind me spoke into my ear. "Come on Man..I'd do it for you.". It was my friend Bill. He was drunk as a skunk and he proceeded to tell me how much money he had lost that day. We spoke for about five minutes and made plans to get together soon. I have not seen or heard from him since.

I do not recall Bill doing one single favor for me. But I truly believe it is because I never asked him to. I am confident that he would have. He taught me that if you are truly willing to do a favor for someone, you can truly ask them to do a favor for you.

Recently I submitted a posting concerning my son in law bringing some beer back to me. I wrote it to point out the various beers I was hoping that he would retrieve for me. (which he did by the way) I detailed how I took the steps that I could to make his "favor" for me to be as painless as possible. Upon his return to Hooterville he informed me that the whole process took less than ten minutes of his time; that he only drove a mile or so out of his way and the the sales rep even carried the seven six packs outside and placed them in his truck.

In the same posting I referred to an instance a year earlier wherein I had requested a former coworker to retrieve some beer from me. I mentioned that I felt that he "owed me". I pointed out that he was "too tired" to "hook me up" even though I believed it would have been very easy and convenient. I supposed it could be construed that I betrayed my "friend" as someone who was a loaf or someone who would not honor a debt and even steal money from me. I mentioned a vehicle I sold to him and I inadvertently misrepresented the actual selling price. The fact is that he did indeed pay for the vehicle (over the course of several months). I even provided him a written affidavit to attest that he had paid me in full. I actually never directly gave to him forty dollars. I had actually given the money to another employee with instructions to give the forty dollars to him along with directions to the local beer store. I never consulted with my friend and coworker concerning his willingness to acquire the beers for me. I suppose my history with the aforementioned Bill Sullivan led me to believe that my "friend" would "hook me up". I mean "I would do it for him". Finally I want to state that the person to whom I actually gave the forty dollars to informed me after the fact, that he, not the "proposed beer mule" had my money. It was he that never gave my money back to me.

The "mention" in my posting was never intended to impune my former coworker. It was written as filler and in passing. I have since edited the posting to insure that little or any reference is made to him.

I realize that very few people actually read my blogs. One of the few that do (I realize) is the person who I had hoped would bring the beers back to me back in 2009. He now feels as if I insulted him or as he states "I placed a shank in his back". he states that I use "my blog" to lie. I differ with him that I lied.
I sincerely hope that I have sufficiently addressed that matter. I do not intend to concern myself with it further.

e·lat·ed  [ih-ley-tid]jective

very happy or proud; jubilant; in high spirits: an elated winner of a contest.

Back when I was in my early teens we would occasionally visit a A&W Root Beer Stand. Near the store was a family named Webb. I would see the Webb kids on our visits to purchase root beer. As fate would have it, the oldest Webb boy and I became very good friends. In fact I will go as far as saying we were indeed best friends all through Junior High School, High School, College and even later. We each were in each other's "first" weddings. We were close. I loved him and I know he loved me. I would have cut of my own hand if I thought it would have hurt him. In 1976 The Prodigy was born. a few months earlier, as tradition dictates, a baby shower was held for The Plaintiff, The Third and our soon to be born child.
Each gift we received was needed. We were grateful for everything we received. Of all of the gifts we received only one of them was actually hand made. It was a hand stitched blanket given to us by my dear fried mentioned above. His wife had spent nearly two months making the blanket for our baby. When I first saw the blanket I actually cried. It was special that it was handmade but it was really special that my best friend and his wife gave it to us. A few days later I met with my friend and I told him that I truly loved the blanket. I expressed to him how special if was to both me and my wife. I told him I was elated.

Two months after The Prodigy was born, my friend came to my home and confronted both my wife and I. He informed me that I had stabbed him in his back. he expressed how disappointed he was with my reaction to the gift. He told me that I had a lot of nerve to tell him face to face that I was "elated" about the gift.......Now let me stop and explain something here. My friend Gary was not what you would conceive as being real intelligent. Somehow he was under the assumption that the word "elated" meant something other than what it actually did. On that night he essentially called me everything except a child of God. I have asked myself why. He left my home in a huff. Our friendship had ended. A few years later he and I visited each other and he admitted that he then realized what the word elated actually meant. But unfortunatley, the damage had been done. I suppose both of us had hoped that we could rekindle our friendship. Too much water had passed under that bridge. I miss Gary very much.

In late 1999 my father called me and informed me he would be coming to where I lived and he wanted me to put him the hospital to help him off of alcohol. He flew into town and I admitted him to the local hospital. A month later he died. Many of my friends came to comfort me. About a month later as Grand Knight of the local counsel I address my brother knights. I told them that although I no longer had a blood brother, that they were indeed my brothers. I expressed my gratitude to all of them. I told them that too many times we underestimated the power of a friend. The next night I learned that one of those friends had lost his twin brother in an automobile accident. He was devastated. I called to speak to him. I spoke to his wife and she informed me that all he could do was cry. To be honest, I began crying as well. A day or so later The Mrs The Third along with two other of our friends showed up at my friends departed brother's Rosary. It was over a hundred miles away from where we lived. To this day I do not recall being hugged harder than when my friend Darrell hugged me. I too had lost a brother to an auto accident. All we could do was sob as we held each other. A few weeks later he told me that all he could think about was what I had said that night as I addressed my brother knights. His belief that he had all of those brothers comforted him as he grieved his actual brothers passing.

Second Note: I tend to try to have a summary of each of my postings. I pulled this one out of my "draft files" and frankly I a not in a mood to summarize. I leave that up to you.

The Third, aka Los Gatos Grande