Jump in and enjoy the story that gave me my start…Zomblog. When I wrote this, I actually wrote each entry day for day. This book took me months to write. Funny, but sometimes that how it feels on some of my new stuff.
And now…back to the story…
Sunday, January 6
My mind is still sorta flashing back on my visit with Paul. Tomorrow, I‘m gonna spend a day watching a Bowl game with my daughter. I wonder what Paul will be doing. We played football together and I know he loves the game. Crazy. Megan has left about twenty messages on my machine. I really don‘t care. I mean, I did. That was until I drove by her place last night after I did my route. She musta forgot that I‘m out and about in the middle of the night. That car in her driveway behind her ugly little Prius was parked next to her ugly Prius at work just about five hours later. No, I wasn‘t stalking. Just looking. I barely even slowed down as I drove by. Besides, she‘s the one leaving messages on MY answering machine.
Monday, January 7
Last night was one of those nights that you only hear about. It becomes like an Urban Legend. I was almost done with my route and, as I am prone to do, I pulled into a 7-11 for a refill on my coffee. Sitting at the light waiting to turn left and then hook into the store‘s parking lot, I can see inside the store very clearly. Two guys with hooded sweatshirts are at the counter…with guns! I flip my cell open and punch my emergency button. The 9-1-1 operator answers and I give all the information, including the make and model of the car idling in front of the building. I sat there on the line as the two guys run out, jump in their car and peel out in reverse. About the time they almost pull out onto the street, a pair of squad cars squeal in and block the parking lot exit. I watched the whole arrest. Then I ended up spending half an hour giving a statement. Mr. Singh, the guy who works the counter on the graveyard shift, told me my coffee is free forever! He even gave me this laminated card that I can use in any 7-11 for a free cup! Tonight, my daughter is coming over for the big game! All in all, I‘d say this is a pretty good day. Only five messages from Megan on my machine when I woke up. Maybe she‘s getting the hint.
Tuesday, January 8
Crazy world! I got a call from the regional manager for 7-11. They want to give me a reward. The company has some sort of policy. What kind of world is this that there is a ‗Company Policy‘ for rewarding ―people who assist in the apprehension of the person or persons‖ who rob their stores? I had a blast watching the game with Beth. We each started with a stack of quarters and bet on everything from who would convert a 3rd and long situation to who would score last. She‘s gonna make some guy a great wife one day. It‘s strange how worked up fathers get over their daughter dating, yet gush over what a great wife or mother they will grow up to be.
Wednesday, January 9
There is a bit of a co-worker type relation with my fellow Muses. To be honest, music might take a lot of work but it ain‘t ―work‖. I love it. I enjoy playing. Sometimes we get in a groove on a song and will jam for twenty to thirty minutes straight. Music is something you feel. A job is something you do. I respect all you folks who park yourself in that cubicle and grease the American Wheel. I just choose not to join you in your slow, death-by-boredom lifestyles. Sure, I may not be loaded, but I pay my bills, tend to my support obligations, and that is something a
lot of those nine-to-fivers can‘t say. I mean I just never got caught up in the ―gotta have the newest, biggest, brightest toy‖ sickness that is so prevalent in our society. On more entertaining fronts, I‘m going to watch my daughter‘s basketball game tonight. Erin was sweet enough to warn me that her boyfriend, Brandon, would also be in attendance. I think she‘s gonna marry the guy. He seems nice I guess. It is funny to watch him get a little irked when Erin hugs me in her normal greeting. If the guy paid attention, he would notice that Erin hugs everybody ―hello‖ and ―goodbye‖. I do think that guy makes her happy, and Beth says he is a good listener and helps with homework…all that stuff.
Thursday, January 10
I had to go to this ―ceremonial‖ thing to pick up my reward. They gave me $1000 and a plaque for my wall. A lot of fuss in my opinion. I just called 9-1-1. Well, it was a really nice gesture, and I‘m glad they felt that the officers who made the actual arrest deserved wall plaques as well. Plus, to sweeten the deal, Mr. Singh‘s manager gave a Free Coffee card to each of them. That was nice. Beth was mad that I hadn‘t told her. Then, Erin called and chewed me out for pretty much the same thing. Now, they want to take me out to dinner. THAT is why I didn‘t say anything. Now I gotta sit through a whole meal with Brandon trying to pretend he‘s not totally uncomfortable. That, in turn, makes me uncomfortable. By the way…my daughter‘s team lost. However, Beth scored nine points and had six rebounds. She‘s pretty fierce on the court. She must get it from her mom; I was a band geek in high school.
Friday, January 11
Erin called this morning. She wants Beth to stay the weekend. The hospital she works at is getting a planeload of some of those poor Indonesian folks that survived a series of big mud slides a couple of weeks ago. I guess they have to prepare a whole floor for those people. Also, a bunch of the rescuers are getting sick. Erin says that there might be some nasty virus involved. She said that this weekend her entire nurses‘ shift was selected to prep the floor, and I guess a couple of the doctors are going to go over some sort of battle plan. I realize that we are the wealthiest nation and all that. It‘s just, we run around and help these poorer countries, and what does it get us? The world hates us. I bet if we cut off all our aid and pulled all our troops and just sealed off the country, then these countries would be at our door begging within a year. Maybe not Iraq or Russia. Seriously, we have our own disasters to deal with. Starving children for one. Sure, they can play football in New Orleans again, but what about those poor folks who still don‘t have a place to live? How about all those sick first-responders from 9-11? I don‘t mean to sound heartless, but until there are no children going hungry in Detroit, gang warfare is ended in South Central LA, and you can actually eat a fish you catch in the Columbia River without sucking in more mercury than you would from a gross of old-fashioned thermometers, we need to focus our attention inwards.
Saturday, January 12
Brandon—Erin‘s boyfriend—called…I guess this Indonesia thing is nastier than the papers say. Of course with the NFL playoffs rolling towards the Big Game, the election politics, and the insanity that is the Middle East, nobody is talking about Indonesia. I‘ll bet almost nobody heard about the ―Lost World‖ find in a jungle never touched by modern man. Mudslides and volcanic activity are just grinding that place. Hospitals all over Europe and the states are preparing to take in a whole slew of people. The CDC is overseeing the United States‘ participation by having representatives at each of the approved wards. I guess there was some attempt at quarantine, but too many relief workers had come and gone. Whatever these people have is already popping up all over the place. They (the CDC) are hoping to gather as many people as they can and try to control the mess. I thought they were bringing in people from Indonesia. Turns out they are scooping up our own people who have been exposed by returning relief workers. I guess Beth will be staying with me for longer than the weekend. The band has a gig next Friday at some frat party. She wants to come and help with set-up. So, my choice is to leave her home alone for an entire day on the rare opportunity I have to spend a large block of time together, or bring her to a frat party.