23 Observations Used In Attempt To Tell My Life Story, In No Particular Order
I- When I was young [young enough to have an active imagination but not old enough to form any logic out of it] I would always pretend that I was someone else. There was a 6-7 month period in my life in which I envisioned being Michael J Fox. The man had it all, humor, charisma, good looks, I mean he WAS Doc Holiday. He seduced his own Aunt. He went backwards and forwards in time on more occasions that I could wrap my 4 year old head around. The man was an enigma to me. I figured to myself that if only I could be Michael J Fox, I would be set. I would no longer need anything out of life, and I would never be unhappy. I would walk around aimlessly in my backyard, envisioning my own Michael J Fox movies in my head. One of my magnum opuses involved a talking cat [because growing up in the early 90’s, nothing is cooler than a talking cat]. I don’t remember very many plot details, but I vividly remember the final showdown scene. It takes place in the middle of a terrible lightning storm, and as Michael and the cat run for their lives, a tree falls on the cat. The villain, which I recall was some sort of pirate, gained an upper hand. This is when I (Michael) pick up the tree with my bare hands and throw it at the pirate, thus saving the day, and my feline companion. Every day, Michael J Fox would save the world, just in time for supper. It wasn’t until years later when I found a bigger connection to him. I became familiarized with Parkinson’s as my mother explained to me why my Grandma couldn’t hold a conversation. I remember thinking to myself, “Just like Michael J…”
II- I was at a party, because this is a normal thing to do on a Saturday night. I am led to go outside, so that I can “help pick up some cinder blocks”. I figure to myself that we are the proprietors of the cement chunks, so I follow. We go further down the open alleyway, and a sinking feeling forms in my gut. This doesn’t seem right. Maybe they’re in someone’s car. No. Nobody’s car is out this far. We stop by a fence. It is THE fence. The one with the scary dog. One guy grabs 2 cinder blocks, and the other grabs the third. At this point in my life, I am not familiar at all with the act of stealing. It’s just not something that I am able to do efficiently. Hoping to get away with physically stealing nothing, we start heading back to the house in a hurry. Even though I have nothing in my hands, I could still feel the rush of this mischievous act. We stop by another house on the way, and I am told to steal one to the right of me. I freeze in my tracks. My lower lips starts to curl and quiver. There’s no way I can actually do this. How much does a cinder block weigh anyway? I probably can’t even lift it. I’m going to look like a damn fool. No, I surely can’t do this. Why would they expect me to do this? As I frantically muse on the situation, a car starts coming towards us, down the alleyway, like a dark phantom, or the cinder police. I start booking it. I can see the whole situation in my head. The cop will get on a megaphone and shout “Hey you! With the cinder block!”. The car turns away, and I still sheepishly go back into the house. I’m not cut out for the life of crime.
III- I used to have friends that lied a lot. I was at the same time extremely gullible. This is what made me such a good friend. In this particular scenario, one of them claimed to have a 20-disc Dreamcast game based on The Simpsons in his backpack. On top of that, I could even borrow it. The thought of this made me drool for the rest of the school day. I spent 2 and a half hours spaced out, imagining not only what a 20 disc game would be like, but also one based on the Simpsons. Pure fucking gold, it must me. At the end of the day, I meet up with my friend, and of course his bag isn’t on him. It’s in the principals office, because for some reason, students had an option to do that. So I go digging through a pile of backpacks, and finally find the right dirty side-bag that contained my weekend. Of course, there’s nothing but books in there. I go to find the guy, and I turn the tables on him. Instead of telling him that there was nothing in there, I told him that the only thing in the bag was a note that said “Sucker!”. This turned into a brief side story in which he believed that his game that doesn’t exist was actually stolen.
IV- One night I couldn’t sleep, so I went into the living room. My parents were watching Jaws on late-night HBO. My dad was half-asleep on the couch, and I laid on top of him, because he made a good breathing mattress. During one of the scenes that Jaws pops out of the water, my dad rolls to his right, thus crunching me in between his body and the couch. From that point on, I was afraid of sharks and my dad’s back.
V- When I was in high school, I was a firm believer in the concept of moments that last forever. After a long night of drinking, I sat on the side of a garage, staring at the tire of a broke-down truck. I convinced myself that even though I was extremely messed up, I would always remember the frame of which my eyes are currently looking at. Somehow I can still picture that stupid tire, that had “Radial AL/T” inscribed on it. I remember extremely stupid things.
VI- My first crush was on my Kindergarten teacher. This crush was reignited when she taught Social Studies in 7th grade. To this day, I’m not sure why this was true, because she was kind of a bitch and occasionally taunted me in front of my parents. Regardless, this story takes place in Kindergarten. Every Monday morning, a few friends and I would re-enact last Saturday’s episode of X-Men. We had a Wolverine, a Cyclops, the occasional Jean Grey, and of course I was Gambit. In one of the episodes, Gambit gets seriously hurt. So I play off an injury pretty damn well if I would say so myself, then it was Wolverine and Cyclops’s job to carry me to safety. As this is happening, I am called to the front of the class to speak with the teacher. The guys drop me to my feet, and as this happens, my pants fall down. In front of my unrequited love, no less. This was the first time that she saw that I was an easy target. This led to a downward slope in our relationship. I got over her a lot easier after that.
VII- I held a grudge against Scott Kuchar for 8 years, and I really didn’t have that many good reasons to do so.
VIII- These days, it takes me about 20 minutes to get out of bed each morning. This time period is one of observation, in wehich I do nothing but stare out the window. Doesn’t matter what is going on outside, I will stare. And stare. And stare.
IX- On a cold winter night, she ran outside without a coat. She met me at the car door, and handed me a long tube. “Merry Christmas” she whispered into my ear, and she kissed me on the cheek. Although her grandparents were probably watching, it was one of the sweetest moments of my life. Too bad I killed it on the drive home with my music choice, because I was really into U2 at the time. Sucky way to top off a good feeling.
X- I ate a pineapple & ham pizza, and the Michigan Wolverines won the Rose Bowl. I ran to the bathroom and threw up for no reason.
XI- I filled myself up with nachos from Cheers. In a Wal-Mart parking lot, Jamie kicked a giant wet bag at me, which caused me to throw up.
XII- I showed up to Government class with a 2-liter of Faygo Root Beer. From the other side of the room, my buddy dared me to chug it. I do so, said “I feel pale” and threw up all over my desk. This story has attained legend status, as the teacher was an extreme germiphobe. He quarantined the class in the library, and all my possessions were put in a trash bag.
XIII- 2 weeks after tonsil surgery, I ate a cracker. 2 hours later, the bathroom was covered in blood and I was hospitalized for 2 more days. There were 2 episodes of shows in that 2 week period in which a character gets his tonsils removed (Bobby’s World and Home Improvement).
XIV- In the 4th grade, I gained the reputation of the “Wussy Psycho”. This was because I had mild attacks in which I subsequently threw chicken nuggets at people, stabbed a girl in the leg (but not really. bitch made it look worse than it actually was), and something involving a can of Mountain Dew. After these outbreaks, I would cry uncontrollably. For 5 years, the only people that were willing to be my friends would also make fun of me. I spent most of my time playing Sega Genesis and listening to the radio. Looking back, it still seemed like a good time, because 1996-9 were decent years for music.
XV- For the first 19 years of my life, I was convinced that Saginaw was the Michigan equivalent of Xanadu. My god was I wrong.
XVI- Life is never fair when you’re a kid. I learned this early on. One night, dad got my sister and I Happy Meals for dinner. This was during the promotion of which you could get either a Barbie toy or a Hot Wheels car. Of course, one is supposed to specify what toy is desired when ordering. My dad decided not to do this. He came home and gave me my “Un-Happy Meal, featuring Barbie”. I was close to losing it. I threw a full-on tantrum. My parents ignored this, because I was spoiled rotten. In retaliation, I stuffed my hamburger (which was supposed to be a fucking cheeseburger!) down the vent. Don’t ask me how I was able to get it to fit, as my eyes were swelled in tears. This was my ultimate revenge. My parents would never treat me badly again! But in reality, they didn’t even notice. Apparently it was found like a week later, but I never caught any heat for it, and my parents don’t even remember it happening anymore.”The shit you guys remember”, my mom always exclaims whenever my sister and I mention it.
XVII- I wrote a version of the previous story in the 6th grade, and it was read aloud to the whole class. It was the first time I made a large group of people laugh. This was the start of me breaking out of my shell. Instead of being awkward all the time, I discovered that comedy could be utilized to better myself. With that in mind, I was able to turn myself around. Going into High School, I was still that painfully strange kid who was sorta-decent at the saxophone and had this strange and obvious crush on Mallorie Vrable, to being somebody actually worthy of being considered Class Clown. And that’s what I became. Every time I go back home, people still expect me to tell the same jokes. After 5 years of living in a different city, I have grown farther and farther away from my roots. After all, why should I embrace a place that shunned me for 10 years more than they loved me? To them, I’m a walking disappointment, when really, going back home depresses me more than they’ll ever know. Either way, I will never forget how great it felt to finally hold them in the palm of my hands, after years of rejection. That’s the shit movies are made of. Shitty movies. On ABC Family.
XVIII- All I needed was for things to stay the same. I know I can never ask this out of life, but this was necessary for a proper success. Just give me 3 weeks of emotional stability, and I can fight this fucking addiction. 9 days deep, I’m cruising along swimmingly. Some minor attacks, but nothing that some Powerade and positive thinking can solve. 10 days in, I partake in a debaucherous night of vanity and excess. Day 10 doesn’t count. On Day 11, it all crashes on top of my face. I was 16 hours into my day, feeling completely fine. I could see storm clouds coming from the night before, but I danced off the bad vibrations. I was strong and invincible, and damnit, things were going good for me! That was, until I got the text. At first I shook it off, as I was already ready for some “freelancin’ dancin'” After some time, the spelling and punctuation of the message started to get to me. If something meaningful and hurtful is being said, you would think there’d be attention paid to these details. Not with this situation. Butter fingers on the small keyboard are rampant. Some of these letters aren’t even close to the other ones. How are these errors happening? Why do I feel like shit? Oh no. Oh god no. Give me a cigarette. That tasted good. Give me another. That’s fucking great! These things! Why did I quit these things? It makes me feel so much better! I mean, of course I feel like dying, but these cig buzzes are fun as shit! The following days have been a mixed bag. Some days I will feel free and empowered, and others I will be the scum of the earth. People keep on asking me if I’m having a bad day, and I can do nothing but zone out and mutter “I’m having…trouble” (and I can’t even laugh at the Robocop 2 reference). I could have been safe and secure rolling into the third week of nicotine sobriety, but now I’m stuck on having 1 or 2 a day, depending on how “on edge” I become by the end of the day. The thing that scares me is that immediately after smoking, I want another one. It’s only going to take me being at the wrong place at the wrong time, and I’ll become a full-blown smoker again. I’m fucking around on thin ice. Although I remain angry that this situation happened in the first place, I don’t blame anybody except myself. I allowed myself to become attached to another during a risky period in my life. I know that when I see her again, I will want a cigarette, and after I smoke it, I will have another, and it will go on and on until I decide to torture myself again. Life just…works like this. The funny thing is, all of the problem’s I am currently happening can be attributed to my punishment for something that happened years ago. I am more than likely doomed to be single and miserable, until some higher power forgives me. So, I’ll say this now, and I’ll never say it again: Robbie, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do to take back what happened, or how shitty I feel about it to this day. It went against all of my morals, and if you didn’t know then, then you must know now. I’m truly sorry.
XIX- 1994-95- The Chargers make 2 playoff appearances, including a trip to The Super Bowl / I am still a fun-loving kid who enjoys being with friends
1996-1998- The chargers start to slip in the rankings, with a slow decline into the 2nd worst record in the NFL / I gain a shit ton of weight, and start to develop emotional problems
1999-2002- After the Ryan Leaf bust, the Chargers continue to propel as being the laughing stock of the NFL / I am the laughing stock of CMS
2003-2006- The Chargers vastly improve to elite status, with the help of QB Drew Brees and LaDanian Tomlinson / I break out of my shell and have the time of my life
2007-present- The Chargers remain top contenders, but always seem to blow it in the playoffs. At this point, many of the veterans are starting to go elsewhere. / I am enjoying life to the fullest, but still have voids that need to be filled. At this point, I have a lot of friends that are going elsewhere, in location and in life.
XX- July 4, 2008.
XXI- I used to be afraid of: Bees, Semi-Trucks, The Buffalo Bills, My Basement, Chucky, The Hamburger Helper Hand, The scene in that one Police Academy movie when the shark attacks the beach, burglars, talking inanimate objects, dogs, storms, the dark, the Cryptkeeper, Bill Murray in “Quick-Change”, the VHS box of “Happy Birthday To Me”, The Lawnmower Man, Virtual Reality in general, heroin users, my uncles, the scene in Overboard when Goldie cuts off the scarecrow’s head, sirens of all kinds, guns, the song before every movie on HBO, my own shadow, windows at night, the trolls in Ernest Scared Stupid, talking toilets, and falling. I am still afraid of 4 of these things.
XXII- One of the happier moments of my life took place in the video section at Frank’s Supermarket. Zach and I anxiously perused the Sega Genesis games in search of the holy grail. It was nowhere in sight. Our weekend was over. We would have to settle on Sonic 2 again. That was until Zach screamed “Oooh! ooh! Ooooh!” like a monkey and pointed to the very top shelf. There it was, in all of it’s glory. Mortal Kombat 2. We both jumped up to try to retrieve it to no avail. After some brief teamwork, the box was in our hands, and thanks to my unsuspecting parents, the game was our for the weekend. “You see? THAT’S why I wear glasses!”, Zach exclaimed. It made me wonder if I also needed glasses, and 2 months later, I found out I was right. If there was any carefree time period I would go back to, it would be that one. The summers seemed to last forever, as Zach and I huddled around my TV in the dark, watching Beavis and Butthead with our finger on the channel-up button (because with one hit of channel up, my mom would think we were watching the discovery channel. Fucking clever, right? Probably not), or the occasional swimming swimming in Aunt Nancy’s pool, as we would laugh endlessly at the obscenities coming out of our older cousin Mandy. Although we didn’t do too many stereotypical “kid” things, that is what childhood means to me when I think of it. Something to do with walking to the Little Giant to buy Warheads or Lava Candy.
XXIII- I’m going to be 23 in a few days, and I figure it’s about time I start the rest of my life. This is why I plan to join the rest of the BfD crew in Brooklyn on June 1st. Whenever people ask me why I’m going out there, they’re expecting me to talk about the film connections I probably have out there, or just the general abundance of fine employment opportunities. However, whenever I’m raised with this inquiry, I simply answer “I’m going out there to live.” And that’s all that really matters to me. I want to be somewhere else, so I can experience something else with someone else on some other day that wouldn’t be spent the same way as it’s done in Michigan. I’m not looking to “shoot for the stars”. Sure I would like to get back into film production again soon, but really, i am focusing more on keeping myself happy, experiencing new things, and living life to the terms that I want to live them. If that involves me moving out to a foreign city to work a 9-5 job for a year and burn out, so be it. At least I am making an attempt to change my life and my habits, and everything else about myself. And if you made it this far, then you probably already understand where I’m coming from.
You know, I always wanted to be in one of your fucking plays.
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