Saturday, May 7, 2016

Ming-ya!!! Were you sleepin'???

Unable to secure a job prior to his discharge from the US Navy, Stefano Ming-ya reluctantly returned to his hometown. As miserable as his 9yrs in the service had been at times, he always consoled himself with the fact that he wasn't living THERE anymore. Though he had left home at 18yrs old, it wasn't until he joined the Navy some three years later, that he finally felt free of the oppression of Momma Ming-ya. Now he was going back.

Finding an apartment ASAP, to minimize his contact with Momma Ming-ya, Stefano Ming-ya continued to look for work, hoping for the best possible scenario of a job out west, 2000 miles away.  His fate did not have a job for him out west, though and he soon started with the local utility company. Working hard and with many ex-navy veterans, Stefano did well and prospered.  The only draw-back, if you will, being the need to work rotating shift work.  Being much younger than he is now, it was much easier then, provided he got enough sleep.

Of course despite prospering at his job, there was always the distractions of family dysFUNction caused by Momma Ming-ya. Truth be told, she resents the success of her children, it limited her control of them. Why should anything be discussed at a family gathering, other than her latest illness or what her hair brained astrologer told her was going to happen to her kids. Needless to say nothing good was ever predicted, at least to hear her relate the stories. She really believes no one can do anything without her help and then they could do only as much as she decided they were capable of. Yes, she is also a Democrat.  

Always looking for a way to make everything and everyone revolve around her (that must be why she's as big as the sun, so everyone can orbit her), the phone became her favorite tool for dispensing dysFUNction. Constantly unaware of Stefano Ming-ya's rotating work and sleep schedule and ignoring his repeated requests NOT to call, she called. She wanted attention and by god (her god is a little-g, since her god is herself) she was going to get some and Stefano was going to give it to her!!!  How dare he tell HER when she can call and when she cannot!!!

Needless to say this day, Stefano Ming-ya was sleeping. Sleeping during the day because he was WORKING, while the rest of the world was tucked comfortably into their beds sound asleep. Groggily answering the phone, he wasn't greeted with a polite hello. No, he was greeted with a tirade and waterfall of words, complaints about her health, complaints about other family members who wouldn't give Momma Ming-ya the attention she demanded and complaints about him not calling often enough. As the trade continued unabated, Stefano Ming-ya attempted to interject that he had been sleeping, since he was on the Mid-night shift. Ignoring his interjections, Momma Ming-ya continued the waterfall of words. Realizing she wasn't listening, only talking (as usual) and that he would not be able to stop her, he hung up the phone then reached down and unplugged it. 

Returning to sleep, Stefano hatched a plan upon arising that evening. Arriving at work approximately 1115pm, he attended shift turnover, made his tours of the power plant and carried out his other duties required that evening. Taking a break about 215am, he returned to the office. Walking briskly past a co-worker to a phone on a desk. Tapping in the number, his co-worker was intrigued, too many numbers not to be an outside call. Who would he be calling at this hour?

Patiently, Stefano Ming-ya waited as the phone on the other end began to ring and ring and ring and ring. Losing count somewhere around twenty, Stefano continued to wait, until finally he heard the familiar and despised voice of Momma Ming-ya at the other end. “Hello, hello!” 

“MING-YA!!! Were you sleeping??? SO WAS I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  Stefano screamed into the phone before slamming back into its cradle. Calmly turning now to his other tasks, his co-worker looked up and asked, “Who'd you call???” 

“The woman formerly known as my mother.” Stefano replied with a smile. “Maybe now she'll get the message!!!” 


“Don't call me and I won't call you!!!”

Ming-ya... Another Mother's Day Post

da Ming-yas

They can't sing soprano, but they're da Ming-ya la familia that puts the FUN back into dys-FUN-ctional

Some of The Characters

Momma Ming-ya - the matriarch of this dysfunctional cast of characters and the chief source of the dysFUNctions they endure.  Momma Ming-ya thinks God has a special piece of heaven just for her, only if she makes the lives of her Ming-ya la familia members a big enough hell, while she's still alive.  Yet despite her stated self, assurance on that promised piece of heaven, she's terrified of her own mortality.

Momma Ming-ya has spent her entire adult life passing as many phobias and neurosis’s as possible down to her kids and other members of da Ming-ya la familia.  Always resorting to the almost never fail method of injecting just enough guilt into any situation necessary, to control the thinking and actions of da Ming-ya la familia.  After all, it's how she ensures they all "love" her. 

The fact that best way for her to show "love" to the rest of da Ming-ya la familia, would be to let them learn to make their own decisions, does not enter into her thinking.  Since giving them the freedom to do that would mean taking the chance they'd choose not to be around her any more.

You're killing me!!!!  Being the most effective way of casting fear into the members of da Ming-ya la familia, who having intimate knowledge of all of her latest maladies, don't want to be the one or ones responsible for sending her to her self assured reward.

During the few times she has been challenged, she's resorted to injecting her own brand of guilt into da Ming-ya la famila grieving process.

“I hope you break an ankle dancing on my grave!!!!!!”


Of course never assuming that someone might trip over a rock as they dig her up attempting to drive a stake through her heart!!!!

Thanks Mom...

Well... Tomorrow being Mother's Day... I thought I would re-post something I wrote following the death of Robin Williams... 

Thanks Mom…

It’s been a few days now and many things have been written and said about the tragic passing of Robin Williams… I have provided links to several articles and quotes from each… I found them all to be very interesting, introspective and sadly relatable… I urge everyone to read them and not to skip ahead to something I wrote many years ago about an incident in my own life… An incident almost forgotten, but remembered with pride upon reading these articles…


Sure enough, according to their book Pretend the World Is Funny and Forever, the analyses revealed that most of the comedians grew up in chaotic households with critical, indifferent mothers, leading them to become obsessed with notions of good and evil, angels and demons. As the Fishers note in their book, “We would propose that a major motive of comedians in conjuring up funniness is to prove that they’re not bad or repugnant. They are obsessed with defending their basic goodness.”

“I'm not saying anything science doesn't already know, by the way. Find a comedian, and you'll usually find somebody who had a shitty childhood.”

Read more: 
http://www.cracked.com/quick-fixes/robin-williams-why-funny-people-kill-themselves/#ixzz3AUrCKBDg


“Comedy is a strange beast in that sense. Our job is joy. We make people laugh. For a brief time, we allow the audience to escape from their lives through laughter. We are jesters to the kingdom of life. Yet, so many times, that joy that we provide is masked in tragedy and comes with a price. The stereotype is that comics are fucked up in the head. We're crazy. We're nuts. We're full of tragedy. Our lives must have been fucked up. And I'll be damned if that stereotype doesn't ring true a lot of the time. We're the sad clowns of the world. All of the greats that you have seen come and go were fucked up. Drug addictions, alcoholism, destructive behavior...why? Because we are destructive. We thrive on adrenaline rushes and chaos. And we do it because we have something inside us that needs it. Was it a shitty upbringing? Did we get our asses kicked as kids? Did we get bullied? Have we been fucked by the world around us? Whatever the tragedy is, we find it and make all of you laugh at it. We bottle it down and turn it into humor. It is a coping mechanism that affectively bottles the emotions away at the same time. It is a vicious cycle that, often times, ends in an ultimate tragedy.”


“Comics are fucked up people. That's just a fact. We ball up our "mess," write jokes about it, and we get on stage with it seeking love, acceptance, and connection from total strangers. There is nothing normal or sane about who we are or what we do. We comics, just like everyone else, deal with our lives and our shit in different ways, as best we can...”

Ming-ya!!! Were You Sleepin’???  


It’s been many years now since we’ve spoken… And though that isn’t going to change… I’d like to say here… Thanks, mom…

I don’t wish you dead… Every day you’re alive is another day you suffer the inglorious truth that your now adult children don’t speak to you and honestly hate you… Death doesn’t scare those who have lived a good life… The fact that’ll you will die someday scares the hell out of you…

The fact that you die without six friends to carry your box means they’ll have to bounce it down the church steps… You’re in for a bumpy ride to hell…   

I’ve got a bottle of laxative just waiting for the day I shit on your grave… I want it really liquid, so it soaks right down to your box…


The harm you meant to cause is going to make me famous… Didn’t plan on that did you??? 

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Captain's Log Star Date Friday 4/22/16

With a nod to the fact that, yes I need to sit and write regularly again... Each day... By hand and electronically... I sit this Friday morning following coffee and chores... Outside with the boys... Jay finishing his breakfast outside as is his preference... As I do my reading and writing while listening to the too close noise of life in the "city"... Preferring instead to be sitting outside amid nature this will have to suffice for now... 

At least the air is fresh, the breeze light and cool... No one nearby to interrupt with incessant talking... 

Work continues on the RV... Most of that in my ability to complete being done, it will soon need to be removed somewhere for additional work/repair... Hopefully at limited expense and be ready again for life on the road... 

Sadly, no that's not the word... For I am thankful that while repairs to it and my finances are underway I have shelter and a home for myself and the boys... 

So that while we repair, it will be prior to next winter before we go... Lest we experience a windfall to facilitate an earlier departure... 

The extent of my ability to facilitate repairs limited by experience and tools is shown in the astetics(sp???) of the job... Which is outweighed by the functionality of my work... The water leaks are stopped... The inside is and will stay dry... While looking disordered... It works... To stop the rain and my compulsory disorder... We (the boys and I) are happy with it...  

Looking upon it as a metaphor of our life... Patched... But still working, surviving, even thriving in our new reality... The freedom from stuff unnecessary to our happiness... Happy to be free of the need for "stuff" and with the point to remember... Don't fill the apartment with stuff we don't need or can't fit into the RV... 

We are abundant in our necessities for life... And grateful for them... Food... Shelter... Each other... Time... Appreciation of life... Sunrises... Sunsets... Breezes... Peace... Quiet... Un-rushed walks... Books... Friendships and family that count... While abundance of these latter two may mean something to some... We choose the ones that truly count as abundance... 

Life is good this morning and every morning... So to avoid the risk of repeating myself... I will put down my pen...  

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood and time for another walk... 

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Story at 11

What does it mean when you talk to your dogs??? What does it mean when having “discussions” with your dogs... You answer for them??? What does it mean that while you are answering for them... They win the "discussion"???

An early start to the day had us out for a walk at first light… Breakfast, journaling, another walk, a trip to the gym, shower, lunch, more walks and cleaning the RV… 

Emails, phone calls and apartment complex paperwork while watching Spring Training Baseball on the Internet…

On an after dinner walk with the boys… Their dinner not mine…

Realizing I still needed to cook my dinner… I mention this and the fact to Simon that Dad’s work never seems to be done… Followed by the question… How come???

Simon’s reply… “Don’t tell me you’re tired… I do my job 24/7.”

Really, what’s your job???

“Being cute, Dad… Being cute.”

I laughed, called him a creative genius and told him I’d have to write this story tonight…  He just smiled and took a shit.

So what does it mean that while you are answering for them… They win the “discussion”???  

Sunday, March 6, 2016

DISGUSTED!!!

So disgusted with the ability and ease that the human race can sink to the lows it does…

Working 11pm to 7am shift Friday night at the hotel… I thought the drunks and druggies I was forced to deal with then were enough for now…

I was wrong… Drunks and druggies… I feel no compassion for… They make their choice… Live and die with the consequences… I don’t give a fuck as long as innocent people are not hurt…

Today… My disgust for human indifference to innocent life has hit a new high… A knock on my door early this evening… My neighbor informs me there’s a pet carrier in the dumpster with a dead dog in it… WTF???

Grabbing my jacket to go check it out in the rain… I ask her to call 911… Can animal control come tonight??? Sadly, they won’t be here until morning…  

Fortunately, I know whose dog it was and hopefully they’ll be cited for animal abuse… Low life’s on public assistance… Fat, disgusting and not a shred of personal respect…

They had mentioned the puppy was sick… I didn’t think much about it at the time… It’s normal for puppies… They outgrow it… IF they are properly cared for… IF they are seen by a vet… IF they are properly immunized…

None of these “IF’s” pertained… So today a happy, friendly and at one time full of life puppy is dead because dirt bags didn’t do the “IF’s”… No respect for themselves… No respect for the one person in their home who I enjoyed interacting with… No respect for innocent life…

I am totally disgusted… An innocent life ended because of neglect… Don’t get the damn dog in the first place if you have no intention or no ability to do what is right…

Then to callously just bag it up and throw it in the community dumpster like the piece of trash you actually are has me so pissed off… I can’t find the words to express it…

We’ll see what morning brings… It best bring some animal abuse charges for these pieces of human shit…

And people still wonder why I long for the mountains and to speak to no humans… 

Monday, February 22, 2016

Hell, It's Always Been About the Adventure...

The excitement accompanying decisions made this past weekend and tonight’s full moon... The boys and I are sending full moon manifesting adventure vibrations out to the universe… A special thank you for tonight’s full moon blog pic provided by the best guitar player I know… My cousin Dave Viterna…
  
Continuing my literary journey through “Walden”… It becomes more real to me with each turn of a page… “Life simply and wisely is not a hardship, but a pastime…”

As the weather continues to warm I’ll be getting the RV ready… Cleaned and doing a few repairs… The boys and I will be geared up for our next off the grid adventure… Five months in the Montana Mountains… We’re leaving mid-May…

Sharing this news with my best friend of 45yrs earlier this month… He made the comment… “What a life you’ve led.” Replying with… “It’s all about the adventure now.” I quickly corrected myself by adding… “Hell, it’s always been about the adventure.”

Maybe I should change the name of this blog… Ok, I just did… Sometime the titles comes before writing… Sometimes it comes while writing…

There’s still a chance we’ll be heading to Garnett, Montana… A 19th century ghost town… To work as a tour guide… A job that will still leave time for quality time alone in the mountains… I’m waiting to hear… But we leave as soon as it’s warm enough… Mid-May regardless…

No drunken assholes walking in the hotel lobby after midnight on the weekends… No apartment tenants to baby sit… No traffic… No noise…

I am listening to the neighbor’s kid scream like a banshee at 930pm, as I write this… There’ll be none of that to hear either… Fuck you, Mormons… Have some more ‘cuz your bishop told you to… Turn all your homes into baby mills… WTF???

There’ll probably will be no internet connection or cell phone service as well… Who cares??? Unlike many people today… I can read and write cursive… Yeah, that’s a shout out to my Catholic school education… I’ll fill up notebooks in lantern light by hand again…

There’ll be campfires... And star filled night skies like no one from NY has ever seen… Stars so close you’ll think you could touch them…

There’ll be apple pie moonshine to sip beside the fire… One batch is made two or three more to be put up before we leave… Thoreau and Emerson to read…

Long walks, mountain streams and pictures to take which will sadly not do the beauty justice…

Asked often if it bothers me to live life alone in the wilderness… I can only reply… Life alone in the city is what bothers me… I never feel alone in the mountains with my dogs…

I almost always feel alone even in this small city…

Surrounded by people and unnatural noise… Cars, sirens, screaming babies, rude and entitled people… Phones, TVs… Idiots sharing shitty music at stop lights with the bass turned up so high… Potato fed Idaho white boys wanting to be gangster… How about you try to be better than that instead…

I’ll be listening to the music of a crackling fire and instead of car exhaust I’ll be enjoying the wonderful smell of a campfire every night…

I will be making some videos to post on you tube if/when an internet connection is available… I have already filled a notebook with video skit ideas and characters… If I’m lucky… I won’t have one until September… I would prefer not to have the distraction…

Can you tell the boys and I are excited to go???

What happens in September??? Well, there are several options… None of which need to be discussed now… We’ll see how this 5 month adventure plays out before we decide…

Yes… WE… The boys are a part of every decision… Sadly, Riley will only share these adventures with us in spirit now… But share them he will… As he chases slow rabbits in doggie heaven… His picture the only one currently gracing the walls of our apartment… We’ll leave a marker on his grave on our way out of town…

Well, it’s time to get this posted before headed to bed… Dreams of campfires dancing in my head… I’m counting the days…