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.