Thursday, December 31, 2009

Confessions of a white knight

Ever know a "nice guy"? You know...the guy who will drive you home when you've had too much to drink and not take advantage of the situation. He helped you move the last three times and never took anything for it. When you needed gas money to get to work but you had spent "more than you thought" at the bar on Friday, he was the guy who opened his wallet and handed you the last six dollars he had...he apologized for not having more and, somehow, you knew he really meant it. The nice guy is good looking, has broad shoulders you have leaned on in some of your most desperate times and he is your very best friend... when you are finished with your other friends.

HI... It's been a while since we spoke. A girl told me one time I was more than a nice guy...I was a veritable White Knight. I'm sure she meant it as a compliment but I happen to know about White Knights.

You see... a white knight is a guy who fixes things. When a king is in trouble, he calls for the white knight. When a damsel is in distress, a white knight will always be nearby to slay the dragon, burn the castle and take her back to her loving family and her fiancee...usually some fat, rich guy incapable of fixing anything for himself. When a white knight gets hurt, he toughs up and pushes on. When he gets beat down, he summons strength from somewhere and raises stronger than before. Nothing is more powerful than a white knight on a mission. People claim God is on the side of the white knight. It seems obvious because they usually always win but what they don't realize is every white knight carries a set of secrets. That is the purpose of this blog... my confession.

A white knight doesn't win because of divine intervention... he wins because he will not allow himself to fail.
A white knight is understanding of your flaws and tries to never be judgemental. He understands people are only people and they often succumb to the lure of the easy way out. A white knight holds himself to a standard he would never impose on anyone else.
A white knight forgives... always and honestly. Holding a grudge is tempting sometimes but never an option.
A white knight is sad when you are sad and happy when you are happy. He has come to understand and even embrace the irony that you are most sad when in his presence and most happy after he has fixed your problem and you are back with your loved ones.
A white knight will always be there...it is his mission and his calling. He could no sooner break this promise than stop breathing.

So much for secrets.... now for the confession. I hate being a white knight. Just once, I want to know the sensation of the sun glinting off my dark armor. Just once I want to collaborate with the dragon. Just once... just once I want to do something for myself, regardless of the cost to those around me. I know it will never happen. After all... it's a calling, but it is also a chosen path. I will never change but I will want to for the rest of my life.

I will not be signing this confession because it is the confession of every white knight and I have no rights to sign their names. If you are reading this and you are a white knight yourself, you already know this. If you are a person who knows a white knight personally... now maybe you know them a little better.

Have a fantastic new year.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Mad Mury and the last donut

Ok... I never in my entire life have known a Mury... not even a mad one. You gotta admit, the title is provocative, though. I have a sneaking suspicion there will be little discussion of dounts in this blog as well.
I have been living in Florida for about three and a half months now. Lots of reasons from economy to will to live forced my move from Pennsylvania. I don't regret a minute of it. Well, there were those minutes I spent driving through Alabama....those I kind of regret. Imagine driving five hundred miles to a place you've never been and they celebrate your arrival by digging up every freeking road in the state and hiding all the traffic signs. Not pretty. I have a GPS unit and I would beg the little darling to help me find my way through the state but all I got in reply was,
"In three miles...turn left...no...wait........recalculating.....turn right.....no...wait..... are they moving the roads? OK...try staying on this road for another five miles......wait....now this road turns into a dead end in six hundred feet...TURN RIGHT.... TURN RIGHT... FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TURN RIGHT NOW!!!!!"
I was sitting in a cold sweat in the parking lot of an abandoned fried food place that seemed to cater to people who might like....possum?
The GPS comes back on...
"Sorry about that...I thought I saw a black hole forming in front of us."
"It's ok," I said. "No harm done. Now...how do I get out of here?"
"Take first legal U turn and drive for sixty three miles..." the GPS responded.
I considered these new directions.
"But... that would take me north. I'm heading to Florida. I need to be heading south."
The GPS sighed. I know it can't sigh because it is a computerized device...but it sighed.
"Dude..." it whispered. "You're in freekin Alabama... If we can sneak sixty three miles north before they change the roads again, we can be outta this place and I can show you a sweet short cut through Texas."
"Texas doesn't sound like much of a short cut." I countered.
"It's a time space continuum thingy..." the GPS responded. "Trust me... detouring through Texas will feel faster than driving through Alabama."

My GPS is very smart...and I found a nice donut shop in Texas that didn't serve anything remotely related to possum. Come to think of it... the guy who ran the donut shop was named Mury and he was pretty pissed about all the traffic coming from out of state. Seems he felt people from out of state were bad drivers with very little consideration for the local folks. He was quite blunt with his accusations and for a few minutes, I even considered not purchasing my donut because of his attitude.
It was Boston cream... odd to get Boston cream in Texas, I guess, but I really wanted the donut so I paid the guy his $1.19 and took my sugary treat away. In an effort to show not all out of towners are jerks, I paid careful attention to signaling and watching my mirrors as I slowly back my large moving van out of the main lobby of his donut shop. I even managed to ease around the pesky power pole that had fallen across his parking lot and crushed his 4x4 pickup truck when I hit it while driving in to the store.

Florida is a great place to live. The sun shines daily and the beaches are among the most beautiful in the world. The people are, for the most part, quite friendly and the food is fantastic. Almost none of it tastes like possum.
It's difficult to get depressed in a place where women routinely wear bikini's to Wal Mart. I have to say, after all that happened to me in Pennsylvania, the move to this beach paradise was the smartest thing I've done. Anyone who might be interested in checking out my status can visit my site at www.davidwaltersdorff.com for current info and maybe even some humor. I also have a bunch of coupons for Murys Donut shop in Texas but I don't know if I can recommend sending people there. The guy kind of has an attitude problem.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

I just gotta know

Why, Why, Why,
Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are getting dead?
Why do banks charge a fee on 'insufficient funds' when they know there is not enough money?
Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?
Why do they use sterilized needles for death by lethal injection?
Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?
Why does Superman stop bullets with his chest, but ducks when you throw a revolver at him?
Why do Kamikaze pilots wear helmets?
Whose idea was it to put an 'S' in the word 'lisp'?
If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes?
Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use the bubbles are always white?
Is there ever a day that mattresses are not on sale?
Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized?
Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance?
Why is it that no plastic bag will open from the end on your first try?
How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?
When we are in the supermarket and someone rams our ankle with a shopping cart then apologizes for doing so, why do we say, 'It's all right?' Well, it isn't all right, so why don't we say, 'That really hurt, why don't you watch where you're going?'
Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table you always manage to knock something else over?
In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer when we complained about the heat?
How come you never hear father-in-law jokes?
And my FAVORITE.....
The statistics on sanity is that one out of every four persons is suffering from some sort of mental illness. Think of your three best friends -- if they're okay, then it's you.

Friday, June 20, 2008

The Cable Company Saved My Life

As some of you may or may not know (or care) I am getting divorced... One of the side effects of this process involves dividing up the bills and deciding who pays what. During this stage, something always happens so I suppose I should not have been surprised to come home one day to "Dad... The cable doesn't work."
"Damn Comcast... Charge me a freekin' arm and leg but they can't even keep their stuff in working condition..."
Dialing my phone...
"Welcome to Comcast Electronic Voice Mail Hell!" The cheery automated voice answers the phone.
"I will be doing everything in my automated power to make this call as frustrating and unproductive as possible. How may I ruin your day? Please listen to all the possibilities before selecting a choice as our methods of destroying your day and self esteem have increased greatly with the addition of our new automated voice mail hell."

"If you are experiencing trouble with your phone...what are you calling us on? Press one for a list of possible devices you may currently be using to make this call."

"If you are experiencing trouble with your (I know I heard a distinct giggle at this point) High Speed Cable or High Speed Cable Internet connection, Press two now for further abuse."

Press Two:

A voice comes on to tell me three different ways to contact this faceless entity on line. An interesting choice because I already indicated I was having trouble with the cable that provides my online service.

"To check your balance or pay your bill... please have a copy of your statement with you."

What? I am trying to find out if there is an outage in the area!

"Please enter a series of 7000 random numbers in the order I am imagining right now to verify you are still on the phone."

"I need to speak to a human being...!" I scream into the phone.

The automated voice turns decidedly evil and says "That option does not exist. By the way...one of those random numbers you punched in was your account number and I ran your records. You're about a million bucks in the red, pal, and we're cutting you off!"

The phone went dead. I dialed a new number.

"Yeah... Comcast says they discontinued our service because we haven't paid our bill. Yeah... I know you say you paid it but... Look... I'm just telling you we have no cable or Internet because we are three months behind in the bills... Uh Huh... Uh Huh... Uh Huh... but what happened to the money?"

You can guess the rest of that conversation.

Well... I need Internet for work so I call Comcast back. Turns out if you are willing to give them money they have a direct line to a human being. I spoke with a woman who was probably used to pattern the automated voice hell. She couldn't care any less about my predicament and she made it abundantly clear. I gave her my account information and paid the back bill and she tells me,
"We should have your service reconnected next Sunday."

"That's a week off! I need Internet for work!"

"Well...you should have thought of that before you got so far behind on your bill."
(By the way...she actually said that)

I thought for a moment. This is an expensive investment in a time when I have very little money.
"Hey... would it be any quicker if I only reinstall the Internet?"

"Why would you want to do that? What would you do without cable TV?"

"I really don't watch much TV and the channels I like most are streamed online anyway... How much for Internet only?"

"You know...If you want to...I can give you a special package that includes Internet, cable and a premium channel you didn't have before for about a third of what we were charging you before."

"What? How can you disconnect my service and then tell me if I want to cancel you'll lower my rates? Don't you realize it's the high rates that make it so difficult to keep up? I'm paying four bucks a gallon for gas and eating pictures of food I cut from my neighbors Sunday paper and you as well as admit you've been screwing me on my rates for the last ten years? Screw this! I want Internet only...and I only want it until I can find a competitor that I can take my business to."

Feeling incredibly self righteous, I finished the call and soon realized I was in a house with no cable or Internet connections for at least a week. The first night was weird but by the second night, my daughter had rounded up all the VHS and DVDs we've had scattered throughout the house and organized them on the coffee table. We realized many of them were still unopened. For the next week we watched all our favorite series including Scrubs and Futurama along with all our favorite movies and we kept remarking on how much better the picture quality was and how much better the show was when it wasn't edited for time or content or riddled with commercials. We watched those movies we "always intended to watch" and time passed. When the Comcast guy showed up on Sunday, he wanted to verify that a mistake had been made. He was prepared to hook up the cable as well as the Internet even though the paperwork specified Internet only.

"Nah..." I told him. "In the last week I've watched movies I had forgotten about and spent time talking to my family. I've ridden my motorcycle more often and I've noticed I feel less like I wasted a day when I fall asleep. You know... Comcast gave me a week without commercials and I found out I liked it. I need the Internet for work and I'll be glad to be able to check the weather and the local news again but I don't think I'm ever gonna have cable TV again."

He looked at me like I had just grown a third eye right in front of him. See...that's the kind of reality you can't get on TV.

Tuesday, May 20, 2008

It is Saturday evening...I have ELO in the background and sake in my glass and the day was only eight and a half hours long so I suppose it could have been worse.

I was reading an article about evil...a different subject , I admit, but an interesting one none the less...

The author wanted his readers to believe that evil does not exist but is simply an expression of the lack of good...in short...the amount of evil can be quantified by the lack of good...

In his argument...he stated that god was all powerful and that some people believe that since god is so...that god must have created evil...he made the argument that god would not create evil but man would see evil as an absence of gods love and interaction...

I read the paper this morning...among the headlines was a spot about a man who beat his girlfriends child to death because it would not stop crying...a man was finally caught and charged with raping two teenagers in his basement outfitted to resemble a dungeon...the federal government is spending millions to track down people who are raping children live on the internet because the child porn industry is growing stale and simple snap shots are not bringing in the revenue they used to...

they tell me god is all knowing and all powerful...he knows every sparrow that falls...why would he not know your name...

they tell me god spoke the world into existance and granted life to man because he willed it to be so...

they tell me god knows EVERYTHING...
god...

if you really knew about these things and still allowed them to happen...

evil is not a lack of god...

evil is god

I think I need a drink...

Man...talk about white paper fear. I'm just gonna start rambeling and hope something comes out. This is kinda weird....Usually, I can't wait to get a few minutes to start writing. I have all these thoughts...little ideas trying to grow.

I'm trying to do an alcohol free weekend. One of my employees turned 21 last week and in true friendly fashion, all the guys in the shop decided to get together and give him a bit of brain damage. I don't even know when we left the bar...I'm really thankful there were people there who were smarter than us and generous enough to offer rides.

It's an interesting rite of passage when you consider the implications of a 21st birthday celebration. He's finally old enough to be considered an adult in every way.
Five years ago, he was old enough to navigate a two and a half ton vehicle along the busiest streets with no supervision....but he could not drink.
Three years ago he could legally buy the cigarettes he has been smoking since he was fifteen and he could join the military, get a gun and die in a war...but he couldn't drink.
At eighteen years of age, he could vote in any election and help shape the destiny of his country. He could go to a federal prision if he got out of line. He was legally responsible for all his debts and he could get a credit card with a simple signature...no alcohol, though.

No...to be truly an adult...the finest show of maturity...the ultimate evidence of his coming of age...
Well...
I guess the only thing left is to gather with the rest of his "adult" friends and try to drink himself into a coma. God it's so good to see the kids grow up!

I'm sorry...I don't even know if I'm being sarcastic or not! I think I need a drink.

An Oldie but a Goodie

Subject: Ted Nugent
A while back, Ted Nugent is credited with appearing before the Senate and reading a speech regarding a number of issues including Gun rights, Hunters rights and the general Disposition of the American People as he saw it. It happens to fit my general view of the subject to a T so I am passing it on to anyone interested. I know this has passed through the internet more times than most viruses but it is still quite pertinate so...enjoy.

Dave Waltersdorff 2003
from Ted Nugent...

I like big cars, big boats, big motorcycles, big houses and big campfires.I believe the money I make belongs to me and my family, not some governmental stooge with a bad comb-over who wants to give it away to crack addicts for squirting out babies.

Guns do not make you a killer. I think killing makes you a killer. You can kill someone with a baseball bat or a car, but no one is trying to ban you from driving to the ball game.

I believe they are called the Boy Scouts for a reason, that is why there are no girls allowed. Girls belong in the Girl Scouts! ARE YOU LISTENING MARTHA BURKE?I think that if you feel homosexuality is wrong, it is not a phobia, it is an opinion.I don't think being a minority makes you a victim of anything except numbers. The only things I can think of that are truly discriminatory are things like the United Negro College Fund, Jet Magazine, Black Entertainment Television, and Miss Black America. Try to have things like the United Caucasian College Fund, Cloud Magazine, White Entertainment Television, or Miss White America; and see what happens. Jesse Jackson will be knocking down your door.

I have the right "NOT" to be tolerant of others because they are different, weird, or tick me off.

When 70% of the people who get arrested are black, in cities where 70% of the population is black, that is not racial profiling, it is the Law of Probability.

I know what sex is, and there are not varying degrees of it. If I received sex from one of my subordinates in my office, it wouldn't be a private matter or my personal business. I would be "FIRED" immediately!

I believe that if you are selling me a milk shake, a pack of cigarettes, a newspaper or a hotel room, you must do it in English! As a matter of fact, if you want to be an American citizen, you should have to speak English! My father and grandfather didn't die in vain so you can leave the countries you were born in to come over and disrespect ours.

I think the police should have every right to shoot your sorry self if you threaten them after they tell you to stop. If you can't understand the word "freeze" or "stop" in English, see the above lines.

I feel much safer letting a machine with no political affiliation recount votes when needed.

I know what the definition of lying is.

I don't think just because you were not born in this country, you are qualified for any special loan programs, government sponsored bank loans or tax breaks, etc., so you can open a hotel, coffee shop, trinket store, or any other business.We did not go to the aid of certain foreign countries and risk our lives in wars to defend their freedoms, so that decades later they could come over here and tell us our constitution is a living document; and open to their interpretations.

I don't hate the rich.

I don't pity the poor.

I know pro wrestling is fake, but so are movies and television. That doesn't stop you from watching them.

I believe a self-righteous liberal or conservative with a cause is more dangerous than a Hell's Angel with an attitude.

I think Bill Gates has every right to keep every penny he made and continue to make more. If it ticks you off, go and invent the next operating system that's better, and put your name on the building. Ask your buddy that invented the Internet to help you.

It doesn't ! take a whole village to raise a child right, but it does take a parent to stand up to the kid; and smack their little behinds when necessary, and say "NO!"

I think tattoos and piercing are fine if you want them, but please don't pretend they are a political statement. And, please, stay home until that new lip ring heals. I don't want to look at your ugly infected mouth as you serve me french fries!

I am sick of "Political Correctness." I know a lot of black people, and not a single one of them was born in Africa; so how can they be "African-Americans"? Besides, Africa is a continent. I don't go around saying I am a European-American because my great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather was from Europe. I am proud to be from America and nowhere else.

And…if you don't like my point of view, tough.

Amen