Pessimistic Optimism

Life as I see it… sort of.

The Written Truth

My TomTom One steered me away from The Pessimistic Optimism path for a little while, but I updated it recently for a trip to Savannah and it now knows the route.  So here I am, world.  Be ready to read your balls off because I’m here to stay, I think.

The two children have aged a few years and had a thousand and one experiences since their dad has put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard about them.  Does this mean that their memories won’t be immortalized or just not scrutinized?  That’s the question that haunts my dreams.  Haunts might be a bit extreme, but it does find its way to the front of my feeble mind once in a while which causes me the need to fluff my pillow a few extra times.

So let’s see what the girl and boy have been up to.  She’s finishing third grade and he’s in first, again.  Just kidding, it’s his first go at it.

Enough said?

The older they get, the harder it is to write about them.  They’re old enough to refute what I say and I don’t want to be called a liar or more importantly, be sued again.

Back to my first question.  In the age of Facebook and Twitter, if something isn’t on video or written about did it really happen?  I think we all know the answer to that … NO!  If you can’t tell the world what you did, why do it?  If you can’t tell the world what you ate, why eat it?  If you can’t tell the world that you like something, do you?

As a responsible parent I vow to jump back in the writing saddle and start paying attention to what they do again.  I’ll see if I can re-immortalize and exploit the kids’ foibles and triumphs again like I’m supposed to.  I just need to find my voice.  I don’t remember where I left it so it might take a few more posts.

May 3, 2012 Posted by | Facebook, family, Humor, life, parenting, Twitter, Writing | , , , | Leave a comment

Raw Chicken and Then Some; A Year of Remembrance

One day ago was the one-year anniversary of my first post.  It almost seems like yesterday… plus 364 other days, which I decided to let the world have a peek at my writing.  In the past year I’ve hit the “publish” button 140 times, each one hurled my thoughts and meanderings into the depths of cyberspace for all to see and even scarier, to form an opinion on.  As the days went by and the posts accumulated it got easier to hit the button.  It went from indigestion to butterflies to anticipation to cockiness to apathy to butterflies and so on.

The decision for me to enter the blogosphere came easily after I talked to my nephew last summer about his entertaining blog manninchina.  For some reason, he validated the medium for me so thanks to him Pessimistic Optimism lives, in other words, if you don’t like what you see, he’s to blame.  Don’t upset him too much because I don’t like to fight with family… that’s bigger than me.

Writing somewhat true tales about my life as a father and husband came to me during a visit from an angel in my bedroom advising me that it was God’s will or it came on a whim.  Either way it’s difficult to remember what happened in my life before I started writing it down.  This decision was the most frightening one because I only wrote fiction before this and I wasn’t only putting my writing out there, my life would be on display, too… sort of.  After a year it’s easier for me to write about myself than characters I make up in my head, so I’m not sure if this is for the good or not.  It definitely hasn’t helped me further my fiction-writing career, but I intend to add a fiction page to the blog soon… hopefully.  That might get me in the right direction if the right person reads it.  Stephen or Nelson are you paying attention? 

If you’ve read this blog or others you probably noticed that some people like to comment on what’s posted.  So far, there have been 289 non-spam comments on this hopefully witty display of odd thoughts and stories.  I bet about a third of them came from my keypad, because I heard that acknowledging commentators is the proper thing to do if you want them to comment again or eat their freaking words in a shallow grave covered in chocolate sauce and maggots, but I digress.  One of these comments sent me into a tizzy that led to my most viewed, and probably stupidest post called Raw Chicken Good.  The comment from imhelendt was misinterpreted by my hypersensitive ego and sent me into an over-reaction because only I can pick on my parenting skills even though she really wasn’t.  The title of this post has made it my most viewed because people type “raw chicken” into their search engines just about everyday and my post is the seventh offering on Google as of today and has been as high as number two in the past.  This post has been viewed 804 times, which is probably about 700 more times than any other one yet to date.  It’s good to know that I can be associated with something of such great importance as raw chicken as opposed to world hunger or Quantum physics.

Aunt Weather is my number one commentator and for that she gets a great big wet one… from my dog which I know she’ll enjoy because he absolutely adores her and vice versa.  The person that gets a nod for being tied for the least comments is my beautiful wife.  She has commented here as often as almost every living person in the world, English speaking and otherwise, zero times.  I think she just doesn’t want to show me up, because she’s very funny and sexy and a great mother and wonderful spouse and whatever else give me brownie points.

Hits are something that a lot of bloggers like to watch.  It’s very sad and doesn’t mean a whole lot, but I like this, too.  My site received it’s 12,000th hit in just under a year, so I can say that I average 1,000 hits a month and I wouldn’t be exaggerating like I do in my posts, but I won’t get into what qualifies a hit to be a hit (just so you know, mine don’t count).  Twelve thousand hits might seem like a lot to a non-blogger, but some people get that in one day.  They must have a lot of friends or some kind of nudie thing going on, it couldn’t possibly be that they have an audience that likes to read them.  Some day I aspire to have at least three readers that aren’t reading my posts as an obligation, but that’s just wishful thinking.

An odd bonus of this blogging thing was that I hooked up with Humor-Blogs.com, which introduced me digitally to a few blogophiles that are hilarious, or on an off day, amusing.  One is known as Diesel at Mattress Police - Antisocial Commentary and various other sites, he also commandeers Humor-Blogs.com, and another is a chick from Zoning Out Again who is out there, in a good way.  Humor-blogs somehow lists Pessimistic Optimism  along side the heavy hitters of the humor blogging world without having a disclaimer on it that says only read this one if you are really bored and want to remain that way.  Another site and interesting person I discovered is a guy named Bill that writes a site called Dying mans daily journal, which is an in depth look at a person facing the inevitable.  That’s the uniqueness (word?) about blogs, they can be about anything whether it’s interesting or not as you can see by this site.

Thanks to everyone that’s perused my thoughts this past year and also to those that have read my blog.  I hope to post more often soon when my kids stop taking up all my time so check back in about twenty years. 

August 17, 2007 Posted by | All about me, Blogging, Buffalo, career opportunities, Dogs, family, fiction, Friends, Humor, kids, life, parenthood, Ranting, Writing | 6 Comments

Paris Hilton, the Space Shuttle and Harry Potter

Let’s get the least important stuff out of the way first, Paris Hilton’s in jail.

As for the space shuttle, Atlantis, it’s return has been delayed because of a problem with the Russian part of the international space station or so they say.  I guess if you’re going to blame a space station problem on someone, the Russians are as good a scapegoat as anyone.  I’m actually not sure what the problem is or if it’s delayed because of it or the rumor that NASA rented out Kennedy Space Center for the next month to J.K.Rowling for her Deathly Hollows catch and release program.  I think someone said she’s going to set books free by tossing them out of one of the unused shuttles, like Enterprise or Endeavour, while circumnavigating the globe.  If you happen to be one of the lucky people who catches one of these freebies, maybe she’ll visit you in the hospital and sign it, if she has time and you promise not to sue her for being responsible for a seven hundred page missile raining down on you. 

Before you spend all your waking hours staring into the sky take into account that none of this has neither been confirmed nor denied as of this posting.  For some reason I couldn’t find a listing for JK Rowling in the phone book to check my facts and NASA wasn’t in there either.

The posts have been few and far between as of late because of my kids and the great weather in Western New York.  For some reason they expect me to take them outside all the time and that cuts heavily into my writing.  I’ll try to spread my joy more often soon, but I’m not making any promises.

June 14, 2007 Posted by | fiction, Harry Potter, Humor, life, Paris Hilton, Ranting, rumors, space shuttle, weather, Writing | 3 Comments

Don’t Judge a Book by its Dust Jacket

Yesterday, while waiting on a friend, I sat on a barstool with a pen and paper and let the people there lead me along.  I knew whom to write about as soon as the aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap perfume enveloped me as she sauntered by and shouted merrily at the bartender.

“Give me a Coors Light bottle.  I don’t drink out of no glass.” 

Her gravelly voice sent chills down my spine.  At first glance she appeared to be a slightly attractive woman in her late forties, but upon further inspection her looks declined and I realized that she was probably about thirty and has taken a hard path in life, picture Charles Bronson’s blonde-haired identical twin sister without the mustache.

Hers was the only voice I could hear from the trio of lunchtime revelers.  I couldn’t make it out but I could only imagine what she said, so I did.  She bragged to the not as crusty redhead and the smarmy-looking nerd about her latest conquest in the dart league at the corner bar in her neighborhood all the while wishing that New York State hadn’t made smoking in bars and restaurants illegal.  They hung on every word either because she was a fascinating conversationalist or they feared a beating for not paying attention. 

I thought that she was running late for a smoke break, but she didn’t budge from her spot.  My guess was that her need for alcohol outweighed her desire for nicotine at the moment.  Whether or not this was true didn’t matter because on my paper she can be whomever I want.  For all I know in real life she might be a pillar of the community, a fantastic mother and wife, and a brain surgeon that just happens to like wearing tight sweaters with deer on them.  Who am I kidding, but my assumptions might be way off.   That’s the magic of writing; the writer makes all the rules.

This writing exercise squashed any fear I had about “writer’s block” because if it happens I’ll just need to venture out into the world around me and get some ideas from its inhabitants.  It also convinced me to make sure I always have a pen and paper on me in case I’m ever “inspired”.

December 15, 2006 Posted by | All about me, Blogging, Ranting, write, Writing | 3 Comments

Needy Writers

Are all writers needy or do they just act that way?  Am I needy or do I just act that way?

The children and I travelled to the mall last night to buy some X-mas gifts while my wife partied dined with her friends.  The boy was strapped into a stroller and the girl walked beside me either helping push (teamwork! see Is That Teamwork?) or holding my hand.

The journey was somewhat uneventful until we ran into a self-published children’s author that I purchased a book from a while ago.  I told her that my daughter enjoys the book, which she does, but only the pictures (I didn’t tell her this part).  This is when I saw the needy side of a writer emerge.  She showed the three-year-old the book and said, “I’m the one that wrote the words in your book.”  She might as well said, “I’m the one that poured the milk in your glass.” 

 My daughter looked toward me and asked, “Can I have a toy, Daddy?”

The woman looked offended and I explained that my daughter doesn’t get the concept of her writing the book.  That’s when the author and her husband said in unison, “she will.  She will.”

It was kind of creepy the way these people wanted reassurance from a three-year-old.  I hope I never get that way with my writing.  I wouldn’t expect that from anyone under twelve. 

November 30, 2006 Posted by | All about me, kids, parenthood, Ranting, Writing | 3 Comments