Not Like Dan

 

11 Ways I Am Not Like Dan Halen

1.  I never hid facts about my possessions: No one ever asked me if my bone chess set was made of HUMAN bone or not.

2.  I have always been extremely generous. The fact its with other people’s money is irrelevant,

3.  I have never tried to cover up or conceal my age -  I do however find it offensive that no one ever considers is might be ANOTHER Maalac that signed Dan’s Yearbook.

4.  I do not constantly run around nude – Those charges were dismissed.

5.  Unlike Dan I have a large amount of  “junk”. My endowment is…ok you got me on that one we are just alike in this one way.

6.  I do not belittle or mock my fellow man. That I do not feel completely deserve it

7.  I do not attempt to play God or pervert the laws of nature for profit. It is strictly for entertainment purposes with me.

8.  Unlike Dan,  I have never harmed an animal. I am SURE there is an animal I have not harmed out there (just waiting to be discovered). That Dan has.

9.  I have never owned a slave. All of mine are temps.

10. I do not have a sinister laugh. Mine is more a laugh of malevolence.

11. I do not have a field of sheriff clones. I think the common man’s vernacular for mine is “kitty” or something like that I don’t keep up with the utterances you consider to be words that come out of those chitlin-smeared armpits that you call mouths..

"What is a Man? A miserable little pile of secrets!" Dracula

At first glace, you would think my situation consummate:

If you come to my house, you will find me behind a fine chess table, you'll see a $1500 hand carved set including a solid leather board imported from New Zealand.

I will serve you either Dan Aykroyd's "Crystal Skull" Vodka, or if your brave, my own home made 1800's formula Absenthe.
I will offer you a cigar from my humidor. The prize smoke being a Jamaican, rolled with aged vanilla, aged in old rum barrels, and stored in Spanish cedar. Or a bowl of my own blend of orange-vanilla pipe tobacco.

You'll find yourself surrounded by a couple thousand books, half on Chess and the other half on every kind of philosophy, history, and medical you can imagine. The only thing you won't find is fiction.

I don't watch T.V. except for company, I don't read the papers. When I get up in the morning, I turn on a DVD about Chess, or some "personal development" philosophy.

I dress well. Slacks, collar, pin, steel business card case, I even wear a wind up pocket watch I've had since I was 16. How many people you know wear a wind up watch anymore?

I give off all the impressions of being the kind of man that used to be called a "Dandy".

I was quite the player in my day. This is a sample of my "15 minutes":

http://yourcommunityshopper.net/archives/a022107/newsstory6.html

http://enewscourier.com/homepage/x1037403858/Learning-chess-strateg...

Playing Chess on 20 boards for a Boys and Girls club benefit, Teaching Chess and holding closed tournaments in the Summers.

But, as always, looks can be deceiving, and the contents of my book are certainly not what's on the cover.

Nothing will steal your sense of manliness more completely, than getting up in the morning and sending your wife off to work at a job she loathes, while you sit at home on your ass at home.

About 3 years ago I became disabled by an advanced case of Meniere's Disease. Never heard of it? Of course not. No Star, or professional athlete has ever complained of it, so it gets no research.

In short, I'm in a wheel chair, or on crutches, and have severe tinnitus and vertigo, and all that goes along with.

I can give you a great idea of how F'ed up I am if you have ever dealt with Social Security:

I got my SSI in only 11 months.

I've had lawyers look me in the eye and tell me "That doesn't happen." Yet, here I am.

I didn't have to see a judge, their Doctor, nothing. THAT is how messed up I am.

So what kind of man am I, to be so sophisticated, yet living off the backs of the taxpayers, and worse, off the tears and sweat of my "Princess" who I love more than ever even after 20 years?

My own opinion fluctuates between "complete Bum who should just expire and be out of the way" and "Doing the best I can with what I have to work with"

To my friends, to my family, it doesn't seem to matter The kids I'm teaching look up to me like some sort of hero, their parents say, to which I reply "What an imagination". My wife bravely says she's happy to do it for me.

But it hurts, every bit of it. From her going off to work, to when they strain to get my chair in and out of the trunk. I feel it and I make myself feel it. I never want that to go away. I never want to forget their pain, less I get lazy and quit struggling against my disease, less I give up and wind up living my life for nothing. Less an opportunity to do something to get myself off the backs of my family, and the government come along, and I miss it out of apathy.

I don't know if it's being a man or not, but I don't know what else to do.

comparisons

I tried to tell a story today, of something meaningful in my past.

Of course the person I was telling found a way to be offended.

They thought I was somehow comparing my experience with theirs, and as I was about to expound on my lead in they got snippy and said,

"Well I'm not perfect like you are!"

I'm standing there agast, in a "what the hell was that?" state.

I just wanted to relate a story about my life that was in context of the conversation. I did not know their experience, I was already well aware that neither of us are perfect, but somehow....

Like I said before, no point in having conversation - not only for reasons before, but because everyone assumes that any story you tell is a "pissing contest" that they feel they have to try to 'win'.

I'm starting to understand and appreciate blogging, and the geeks that lock themselves in the house and only relate through a computer.

Except for Yahoo.

People have a extraordinary gift for finding ways to be offended on Yahoo. They apply their own emotions to your words and are able to twist even the most innocuous statement into a perceived "blatant attack" and turn into online monsters right before your eyes...

and its all your fault somehow.

being hearing impaired, I depended heavily on Yahoo to be able to stay in touch with people, since I can't use the phone.

But now I hardly dare say anything using it for fear of saying "good morning" and getting"

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? HOW DARE YOU! " ect ect

which has actually happened btw.

on the one hand, I feel even more isolated from the world now. On the other....

who wants to be involved with a world like this?

Silence

I'm Tired.

I'm tired of living in the "Land of the Offended, and the Home of the Lawsuit." as it were.

The whole world has taken on a certain meaningless to it.

Everyone knows God, and they either love Him, or hate Him.

As for lesser things, there is nothing to talk about. Not that there is nothing worth saying, there is everything to be discovered, especially about ourselves....

But no one is listening.

Those that are hearing, are either assuming your lying, looking for some ammunition to hate on the world with, or, are looking to twist your words to serve the dark purpose of harming you, or harming themselves by finding a way to have what you say become an affront of some kind.

There's nothing pure anymore, there's nothing sacred, no one really wants to express, or feel the expressions of love. Not parents to children, not husband to wife, not neighbor to neighbor.

and still we talk, "gobble gobble gobble gobble". Why?

I don't know anymore. I don't even know why I try to reach out to people anymore.

There is no point in sharing ideas, everyone's is better than yours.
There is no point in exchanging philosophy, everyone knows more than you do.
There is no point in complimenting anyone, they assume your lying.
There's no point in telling anyone you love them, they don't believe you.
There is no point in mentoring anyone, no one is listening.

There is no point in conversing with anyone, they are ignoring you, only waiting for you to pause so they can start talking.

Maybe it's the Meniere's, maybe it's the drugs, in some ways I'm glad I'm going deaf....

But I really wish I was going mute.