You think your life is fucked up? Try living a piece of mine.
The past couple of days have been somewhat of a blur. So much has been going on here and in the world that I don't know where to even begin. We finally left Hong Kong on the 28th and just when I thought everything was all good, Mother Earth decided to play a game of hardball with the world. The earthquake in the Indian Ocean that caused a massive tsumnami to travel all the way from Sumatra to Thailand and on to Saudi Arabia, destroying everything in its path.
And to think, This Man was smack dead in the middle of enjoying Kwanzaa!
Needless to say, I had to put the lighting of candles on hold and pay attention to what was going on in Asia. The stories were pouring in every moment. At current count there have been something close to 80,000 deaths not to mention those that are missing. You can't help but see the stories on the news and on the Web. It's unbelieveable!
Mahalo!
TG_H
And to think, This Man was smack dead in the middle of enjoying Kwanzaa!
Needless to say, I had to put the lighting of candles on hold and pay attention to what was going on in Asia. The stories were pouring in every moment. At current count there have been something close to 80,000 deaths not to mention those that are missing. You can't help but see the stories on the news and on the Web. It's unbelieveable!
Mahalo!
TG_H
For once I did something great--and had absolutely nothing to gain from it.
Published Monday, December 27, 2004 by THATGUY_HEATH.
Greetings once again from my brief stay in Hong Kong, courtesy of the United States Navy. This morning began with a bus ride to Kwai Chung in the New Territory region of HK. Five of us from my ship participated in a community relations (COMREL) project and we basically embarked on a journey with no ideal what was to be the outcome. We ended up working at a home for the handicapped and mentally retarded, called the Lan Yi Adult Training Center. Initially I wanted to scream and my good friend for persuading me to participate in a COMREL, but at the same time I wanted to run away.
Only, This Man didn't know where the hell we were!
Needless to say, I did stay and as it turned out, we had a pretty fantastic time. The coordinator, Elise, was very fluent in English and she was very helpful in addition to the arduous job of overseeing the patients. Our group was to clean the rooms of some of the patients and to provide some entertainment. Well, believe This Man when I tell you that I have a tin ear and I can't keep a tune to save my life! But we did sing for the patients and they were happy to see our smiling faces and seem to enjoy listening to us sing Christmas carols--even though it was two days after Christmas. And I have to admit, it was kind of nice.
Then we commenced to doing the dirty work.
It's never been a real thrill having to clean up after anyone, but just knowing that we took the time out of our day to come and help the patients and the staff seems to have made it all worthwhile. So we cleaned windows, sinks, toilets and picked up a bit and I'm sure the work that we did was small in comparison to what's done on a normal basis, but I left feeling somewhat like I'd done something great for once and I had absolutely nothing to gain from it.
At the end of the morning, the five of us finished our cleaning and bid the patients and staff a big farewell. I have some pictures that we took with the two supervisors and I'll post them as soon as I get the chance to upload them. I hope the patients will remember the day some sailors came to sing and spend time with them because I sure as hell will never forget it.
But just as easily as that warm, fuzzy feeling took over my inner being, I received an email later this evening informing me that my son's pet fish, Jacob, had passed away. Let me tell you, it didn't take much for my normal selfish, heartless old self to return. You see the real story behind my son's fish dying is quite a simple one.
I'll start from the beginning.
There once were two fish who lived in my house, Jacob and Martin. Both were betas--Jacob was blue; Martin is red (note the tense of the verbs). These two fish were opposites in every way. Jacob lived upstairs, Martin downstairs. Jacob's fish bowl was a small round thing while Martin's was a square vase. My son took care of Jacob and I took care of Martin. While that's where their differences ended, it doesn't take a medical examiner to point of the cause of death of the dearly departed, Jacob. It was due to his not being cared for. You see, my son left his fish in a dark area of the house. He never changed his water or cleaned out his bowl. And once, when he was attempting to feed poor Jacob, he spilled the food and Jacob received more food in his bowl than would last him a lifetime (as you, dear reader, have now discovered). As a result of gluttonous living, Jacob's homestead was a slime-infested, bottom feeder's paradise! Meanwhile, downstairs Martin, who's more of a home accessory than pet, is living the life of luxury (he's on display with a spotlight on him--he loves it, trust me). So this evening, reading the email that L sent, I showed the least bit of sympathy. Upon responding to this tragic news of the death of a fish, I decided to send poor Jacob one last letter from the deepest of my unsymapthetic heart. At this time, I shall share it with you...
Ode to Jacob,
I know it's a bit too late to bother with this message, but I feel that I may have been a bit
unsympathetic after hearing of your recent demise.
I really want you to know that even though, Martin resided in better quarters than you and received
a bit more attention than you did, you were loved.
Just not by me.
You see, I would only pass you from time to time, whether I was leaving the bathroom or in
transit to D's room.
And maybe, just maybe I would peek through that murky water that you would swim in
and see that you were still with us.
Of course I would marvel that you were able to survive so long when D practically
allowed you to live a life of gluttony when he attempted to feed you and spilled the bottle of
beta food in your bowl and on the desk.
How that moment brings a bit of laughter to my eyes!
So Jacob, I think the only person saddened by your passing could quite possibly be the
person who may have provided some assistance to it.
Your loving master, D.
So while I send this message to you with my face is covered in crocodile tears, just know that the
time that it took for the flushing sound of the toilet to quiet, D was over you.
Respectfully,
Mahalo!
TG_H
Only, This Man didn't know where the hell we were!
Needless to say, I did stay and as it turned out, we had a pretty fantastic time. The coordinator, Elise, was very fluent in English and she was very helpful in addition to the arduous job of overseeing the patients. Our group was to clean the rooms of some of the patients and to provide some entertainment. Well, believe This Man when I tell you that I have a tin ear and I can't keep a tune to save my life! But we did sing for the patients and they were happy to see our smiling faces and seem to enjoy listening to us sing Christmas carols--even though it was two days after Christmas. And I have to admit, it was kind of nice.
Then we commenced to doing the dirty work.
It's never been a real thrill having to clean up after anyone, but just knowing that we took the time out of our day to come and help the patients and the staff seems to have made it all worthwhile. So we cleaned windows, sinks, toilets and picked up a bit and I'm sure the work that we did was small in comparison to what's done on a normal basis, but I left feeling somewhat like I'd done something great for once and I had absolutely nothing to gain from it.
At the end of the morning, the five of us finished our cleaning and bid the patients and staff a big farewell. I have some pictures that we took with the two supervisors and I'll post them as soon as I get the chance to upload them. I hope the patients will remember the day some sailors came to sing and spend time with them because I sure as hell will never forget it.
But just as easily as that warm, fuzzy feeling took over my inner being, I received an email later this evening informing me that my son's pet fish, Jacob, had passed away. Let me tell you, it didn't take much for my normal selfish, heartless old self to return. You see the real story behind my son's fish dying is quite a simple one.
I'll start from the beginning.
There once were two fish who lived in my house, Jacob and Martin. Both were betas--Jacob was blue; Martin is red (note the tense of the verbs). These two fish were opposites in every way. Jacob lived upstairs, Martin downstairs. Jacob's fish bowl was a small round thing while Martin's was a square vase. My son took care of Jacob and I took care of Martin. While that's where their differences ended, it doesn't take a medical examiner to point of the cause of death of the dearly departed, Jacob. It was due to his not being cared for. You see, my son left his fish in a dark area of the house. He never changed his water or cleaned out his bowl. And once, when he was attempting to feed poor Jacob, he spilled the food and Jacob received more food in his bowl than would last him a lifetime (as you, dear reader, have now discovered). As a result of gluttonous living, Jacob's homestead was a slime-infested, bottom feeder's paradise! Meanwhile, downstairs Martin, who's more of a home accessory than pet, is living the life of luxury (he's on display with a spotlight on him--he loves it, trust me). So this evening, reading the email that L sent, I showed the least bit of sympathy. Upon responding to this tragic news of the death of a fish, I decided to send poor Jacob one last letter from the deepest of my unsymapthetic heart. At this time, I shall share it with you...
Ode to Jacob,
I know it's a bit too late to bother with this message, but I feel that I may have been a bit
unsympathetic after hearing of your recent demise.
I really want you to know that even though, Martin resided in better quarters than you and received
a bit more attention than you did, you were loved.
Just not by me.
You see, I would only pass you from time to time, whether I was leaving the bathroom or in
transit to D's room.
And maybe, just maybe I would peek through that murky water that you would swim in
and see that you were still with us.
Of course I would marvel that you were able to survive so long when D practically
allowed you to live a life of gluttony when he attempted to feed you and spilled the bottle of
beta food in your bowl and on the desk.
How that moment brings a bit of laughter to my eyes!
So Jacob, I think the only person saddened by your passing could quite possibly be the
person who may have provided some assistance to it.
Your loving master, D.
So while I send this message to you with my face is covered in crocodile tears, just know that the
time that it took for the flushing sound of the toilet to quiet, D was over you.
Respectfully,
Mahalo!
TG_H
Finally! An outlet for the voices in my head to vent.
Published Sunday, December 26, 2004 by THATGUY_HEATH.
Almost instantly, when I came across this site, I knew I had to sign on and get to pecking
at this keyboard. You see, for the longest time, I've had so many essays and writings that
I've had stored in spirals, on Post It notes, napkins--you name it, and I've used it.
So now, as I sit here the day after Christmas listening to Eminem's Encore (you gotta admit, it's a great CD) for once, I'm at a loss for words. I finally have an outlet for the voices in my head to vent and what happens, I have absolutely nothing to put down that could even be misconstrued as interesting so I'll continue to type until something good comes along.
I could start off by talking about myself, but I'm sure no one wants to read about a guy who spends countless minutes in a day trying to avoid responsibility. Maybe I could entertain with some jokes or countless humor but then I've learned that what I find funny--others find offensive. And the last thing this world needs is someone who offends. So I'll start by talking about myself and what I plan to put on this site.
I live in San Diego but at this moment, I'm in Hong Kong on a deployment courtesy of the worlds' finest Navy (that was typed with sarcasm and you'll know why later on). I was at one time in a happy marriage that lasted for almost 10 years to which I have an 8 year old son, whom I'll refer to as D (he would prefer Tony Hawk--but I'm typing this, not him). The marriage was going great until one crazy evening when I realized, "Wait a minute, I'm a homo!"
Then began the spiral. But miraculously, everything remained intact. I didn't die. I didn't suddenly get the urge to wear a feather boa or anything like that.
So now, I have an family that's still in love with me as I've always been with them. On this page, you'll see the humor that goes on in my life and pretty soon, you the reader, will be just as convinced as I am, that my life flows like a bad, bad episode of Seinfeld.
Mahalo!
TG_H
at this keyboard. You see, for the longest time, I've had so many essays and writings that
I've had stored in spirals, on Post It notes, napkins--you name it, and I've used it.
So now, as I sit here the day after Christmas listening to Eminem's Encore (you gotta admit, it's a great CD) for once, I'm at a loss for words. I finally have an outlet for the voices in my head to vent and what happens, I have absolutely nothing to put down that could even be misconstrued as interesting so I'll continue to type until something good comes along.
I could start off by talking about myself, but I'm sure no one wants to read about a guy who spends countless minutes in a day trying to avoid responsibility. Maybe I could entertain with some jokes or countless humor but then I've learned that what I find funny--others find offensive. And the last thing this world needs is someone who offends. So I'll start by talking about myself and what I plan to put on this site.
I live in San Diego but at this moment, I'm in Hong Kong on a deployment courtesy of the worlds' finest Navy (that was typed with sarcasm and you'll know why later on). I was at one time in a happy marriage that lasted for almost 10 years to which I have an 8 year old son, whom I'll refer to as D (he would prefer Tony Hawk--but I'm typing this, not him). The marriage was going great until one crazy evening when I realized, "Wait a minute, I'm a homo!"
Then began the spiral. But miraculously, everything remained intact. I didn't die. I didn't suddenly get the urge to wear a feather boa or anything like that.
So now, I have an family that's still in love with me as I've always been with them. On this page, you'll see the humor that goes on in my life and pretty soon, you the reader, will be just as convinced as I am, that my life flows like a bad, bad episode of Seinfeld.
Mahalo!
TG_H
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- I'm THATGUY_HEATH
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