Monday, February 22, 2016

Twitter WINS! (in my best Mortal Kombat Steve Ritchie voice)

I think I want to start blogging again. It was a bit therapeutic and I could use some more therapy. I am really not sure how I stopped blogging. It is one of those things. Like how you grow apart from a friend.

I am not a fan of facebook. I have been against it for a long time. Only lately have I done much of anything with it. I still tell people that I don't do facebook. And I don't. I don't want anyone contacting me there and getting mad because I didn't respond. And I don't really want to see what people are eating for lunch. I don't want to play games there either although I can see the appeal.

I have begun to understand a good that facebook can be. It is a good place to learn about and catch up with those that you don't see very much. It helps you "stay in touch" without actuall having to talk to the them. "Oh look honey, the Jones' son is now in high school". "When did that happen?". I believe, that is what it is good for.

I have decided that Twitter is better than facebook. For me.

Facebook is about friends and family. Twitter is about followers. Which would you rather have? Followers is the path to world domination. Friends and family are only a path to laughing and happiness. Who has time for friends and family anyway?!

But followers, now that I can get into. When you have followers you can do all kinds of things:

  • Start a militia  (Militia is a cool word because it has 7 letters including 3 'I's)
  • Form a cult
  • Start a ponzi scheme 

I think it would be fun to challenge other people and their team of followers in a game of whirlyball.

So I beg you, follow me to victory! (on twitter)

Sunday, April 28, 2013

I can see


I love to write.

I also love to sing. A couple people have told me that I should not sing. Maybe my writing is the same. I don't know.

I never really understood the need for poetry. I am still not sure I do. But I figure that some people like it so maybe that is all it needs to exist. I do like Haiku. but mostly I like creating them. I don't really enjoy reading random ones. They seem to be at their best if they are inside jokes. But that is getting off topic.

One day a couple years ago I was up late watching Def Poetry Jam (I think that's the name) on HBO. It was kind of a spin off from Def Comedy Jam. I think it has the same creators. It was a show where celebrities would take the stage and tell what would most certainly be a tragic tale through poetry. They would tell their stories well. With lots of passion and dramatic pauses.

As I watched them I thought that I could do that. I was / am confident that I could get on stage and tell a story with the correct amount of passion and drama. That between my performance and the content of the story I would move the audience a satisfactory amount.

The problem is that I don't have a tragic story to tell. Sure I have had trials and troubles. I have cried and lost loved ones. But when I look at my life with some real perspective its not that tragic. And a bit boring. Then it occurred to me that maybe those authors were performing fictional pieces they wrote. I really don't think so but maybe.

So I decided to write a fictional story in the form of a poem that I could perform on that show. On and off I spent a few months thinking up and writing a poem of a very sad tale.

At the same time I tried to write leaving as many of the details unspoken as possible. Leaving it to the reader to fill in the blanks and even piece some of the story together too. Poetry lends itself to this quite a bit and it was fun.

I have decided to publish the poem here mostly for safe keeping. Remember I wrote it about 2 years ago. Please let me know what you think.

-------------------------------------------------------

I can see
by Dwight Sullivan



I can see
The anger in my father’s stance
The rage in my father’s face
As tears ran down his cheek
Dents and holes in the drywall
All over the house

I can see
In the dark of night
Holes in the walls the size of fist

I can see
With the lights off
The relief on my little sisters teary eyed
and wincing face
Afraid one day it might not be a wall

I can see
With my eyes held shut
Her perched on the top shelf of the pantry
One of her favorite hiding places

I can see
With my face buried in my pillow
Her smiling and laughing face as she jumps
into my out-stretched arms
Pretending she can fly

I can see,
with my face buried in my pillow,
Sobbing
Green leafy trees going by on the long country road;
to the doctor’s office

I can still smell
The musty waiting room
as they took my sister away


I can see
with my face buried in my pillow,
crying,
The reflection of my face in the speeding car window
Leaves were now falling from the passing trees

I can hear
My father’s swear words to the nurses as we left
We took my sister back home and she was happy

I can still hear
A thump from the kitchen;
no wall this time

I can see
With my eyes held shut,
in the corner holding my knees
The shag carpet on the stairs
as I ran to stop him

I can still see
My sister’s body
Face down on the kitchen floor
Not moving
She had tried to fly again
and I wasn’t there

I can still hear
My dad sobbing, then the slam of the screen door

I can still feel
The eerie calm of the empty house

I can still smell
The rain at the cemetery
My sister was with her mom again

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Freaking Metra


Yesterday (Wednesday) I had a horrendous commute. I left the house about 5:50 AM. AM! I arrived back home at 8:50 PM. PM! I was gone from the house for 15 hours. The sad part, well there are several sad parts, was I only worked about 9 of those hours. So I didn’t get to see my family AND I didn’t get as much done at work as one would hope being gone all day.

The story of my commuting woes began when I got a new job. Yay! The main downside with my new job is where it is located. It is about 40 miles from my house and there is no one direct path. So before I began my job I started searching for the best path. I spent a great deal of time searching the various web-sites and figuring out what my different options were. The question became should I take the train or drive.

My first consideration was time. What was the fastest route that started with me taking the train. This is where I ran into the first huh; about the Metra. Trains often do not stop at all stops. It turned out that on my way home the train NEVER stops at both the station I need and the one where my car is parked. So to come home I have to ride a bus, then ride the Green line, then ride the Metra. All said it should take about 2 hours.

The week before I started I did a take-the-train test run; I drove to the train station, rode the train, CTA bus to WMS, then the same bus back to the green line (CTA train), the green line to Oak Park where I learn they have a manned Metra station. I will have to make a note of that. Then I rode the train (Metra) to West Chicago and then drove home. It went pretty well. It takes more time but its more relaxing.

I decided I would drive the first couple weeks so that while I was brand new I would have the most flexibility. Then I would spend a couple weeks taking the train. With the plan being that I would decide which is better once I have done both.

The next big HUH moment was a two parter. ONE - You can’t buy Metra tickets anywhere expect manned train stations. You can buy CTA tickets lots of places. TWO – You can buy them “online”. To buy tickets “online” you have to down and printout a form that you then have to fill out and snail-mail it back to them, then wait for them to mail you an ID in. THEN you can go online and buy tickets that you then have to wait for them to mail you!

Now lets fast forward to this week; my first week riding the train:

MONDAY –
The plan was to pay the full fare inbound and then on my way home I would buy a 10-ride ticket at the Oak Park station where they have a person on duty. The day goes well until, on my way home at 7pm, I get to Oak Park and see a sign at the ticket office: “OFFICE CLOSED; BUY YOUR TICKETS ON THE TRAIN”. A stupid hand drawn sign; a sharpie on a torn piece of corrugated cardboard. Something that one might do in an emergency if they had to leave in a hurry. I will learn later that the train stations are only manned from 5am until 1pm each day. So I get on the train expecting to pay the full fair and no one comes buy to collect my money. I don’t see a single conductor all the way home. BONUS.

TUESDAY –
I am resigned to, for these 3 days pay full fair on the train and I lament about this to my morning conductor while he takes my money. I tell him that I can’t buy any form of discount tickets and why. After a couple minutes he returns to me with a plan. He shows me a train schedule and suggested that if I show up a few minutes early Wednesday morning and ride the previous train I can then get off in Wheaton, where there is a manned station, buy my 10-ride ticket, and then get back on the next train, meaning my normal train, a few minutes later. This was a great suggestion by the conductor, Nick.

WEDNESDAY – THE DAY OF HORROR
I get up and hurry through my morning; I skip shaving and other things to get out the door early to catch the earlier train. I get on that train and the conductor comes by to collect my money. I tell him I am getting off in Wheaton, buying a ticket and then getting back on the next train. He charges me anyway for my trip to Wheaton which is about half my normal fare. I don’t care cause I am a man on a mission.

THRID HUH:
I get off in Wheaton and I am debating weather or not I should get two 10-ride tickets. One for my morning commute which is longer and cost more and one for my evening commute. (SIDE NOTE – I find it really petty that the Metra is all worried about how far someone is traveling. OH you are going 3 more miles than him 50 cents more please. They have a huge complicated chart to describe the different fares like you were going across country or something. The CTA is very clean and efficient. You pay to get on and then ride all you want till you get off.) The total for both will be about $80 so I pull out my debit card and the man at the manned station says “Sorry we don’t take plastic. We never have” WHAT! Isn’t this 2009? I don’t have $80 cash and there were no ATMs. AND what the hell do I care weather or not you ever have? What does that mean? “Well we never needed any of them new-fangled contraptions so I reckon we still don’t.” They do take personal checks though!

I am so livid. I don’t buy any tickets and then my train comes. I get on it and there is Nick. I tell him his plan was great except YOU DON’T TAKE PLASTIC. I actually didn’t yell at Nick. “I have worked here 35 years and we have never taken plastic” WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?! (Should an emotional sentence end with a “?!” or “!?” ? I think the first one.) How is not moving into the 21st century a good thing?! Ugh. Then he reminds me that since I didn’t buy a ticket at station where there was a manned man he normally should charge me the $2 surcharge on top of my normal fare but he decided to let me off this time. He also said “You should have bought a full the first time and told the guy you were just hopping off to get back on the next train. Then I would not have had to buy two tickets. Ugh.

I made it to work without anymore incident.

I decided to leave 30 minutes early to get home in time for dinner with the family for a change. On my way home the wait for the green line was longer than their scheduled 7 to 10 minutes. When it does arrive I get on and I look at my watch. I had just enough time to get to the Metra station to catch my train. There is nothing I can do about it either way since I am committed. Just before we get to where I get off the CTA train comes to a stop and we sit there. An announcer tells us that we will be going again shortly. I then see my Metra train pull up along side us, stop, and then pull away. I now have 30 more minutes, yay!


(This next part is not the Metra’s fault. I take the blame.)
So I grab a Danish, a Pepsi, and a bench near the bottom of the platform. About 6 minutes before the train is due I hear what I think is the train but while I was waiting I heard many trains come and go so I am not sure. I start heading up the ramp to the platform when someone at the top opens the flood gate and dozens of people are now headed my way. The ramp is very narrow and its difficult to get through. Right as I get to the top the train closes their doors and pulls away. I now have 60 more minutes to wait for the next train. I cant believe I just missed the train twice.

Before I started this process my expectations were that the Metra would be excellent in all things and the CTA would not be. I also expected the train would be cheaper than driving and its not for me once you figure in everything.

On one side they have a really haphazard way to collect the money. If the conductor walks past you before you get off you have to pay them. If he doesn’t then it’s free. On the other hand these people are so worried about you tricking them with internet shenanigans.

Carpe Diam

Friday, September 12, 2008

Missed Opportunities

I spend a great deal of time taking care not to miss an "important opportunity". I have gotten really good at seeing them coming. This is not to say I am great at this. I think I used to be pretty dense and only in the last decade really begun to develop this skill.

For example. The other night I was at a basement poker tournament. It was approaching 2am and we had been playing for 6 hours. Only 9 people were going to get paid from this tournament and there were 10 of us left. I was currently in 10th place.

The host told us we were to take a break before all starting the final table. While we all stood around stretching our legs and getting some refreshments, it was brought up (maybe by me) that we could just chop the prize pool 10 ways. I said it half joking cause it was pretty clear that without a miracle I would go home a looser. To my surprise no one laughed and a couple people said "that’s not a bad idea". Even the host said "We can do that if you guys want". No one said it was a bad idea. Mostly people just looked at each to see if others wanted to.

When the break was about half over and most people had fallen into small talk, I asked the host to figure out how much it would be to chop the pot. The answer was $210 each. This started the topic again. It seemed like most would go for it or at least go with the crowd. I asked the crowd "Should we take a vote?" and that is when it happened. No one answered the question, but as I looked around the room time slowed down to almost a stop. My mind was racing. I knew that if just pushed one more time I would get my chop and leave a winner. All I had do was follow up my question with "Raise your hand if you want to chop".

I didn't do it. I let the moment pass and time resumed. A few seconds went by and someone said "let’s just play it out". Three poker hands later I was out and everyone remaining at least moneyed.

In that frozen moment I decided that it would be pushy. That people were there to win yes but they were also there to see if they could win. I know that if it were reversed I would not want to chop but would have gone with it if the crowd wanted to.

I do take away from it the knowledge that I saw the opportunity knocking.

Carpe diam.