Don't Blog and Drive

 I was so excited. I never knew I'd have a chance to actually buy an iPad...one of technologies newest gifts to the 21st century. I was cool. I was hip. I had an iPhone, naturally. Now an iPad.
 My enthusiasm couldn't be contained. I wanted to shout to everyone in the store, "Looky, Looky! I got me a new iPad! I'm cool!" But the cashier was older and the other shoppers looked like English wasn't exactly their native tongue, so I bit mine and kept a lid on my exuberance.
 That is, until I got to the parking lot. My mind was awhirl with all the new things I could do with my new gadget. I could view the Internet bigger than from my iPhone. I could... blog!
 Yeah. I blog. So, here goes nothing. If I can't share this landmark mountaintop experience with others in person, I'll tap out the blog about it to the world on my flashy new screen...
 I noticed the time. Late again. Better hurry. Just a few more witty sentences. I started the car. I didn't mean to pull out, but my foot was on the gas and I had shifted into drive with my knee while tapping my blog on the screen.
 I was creeping out of the parking lot, blogging and driving like a 21st century multitasking machine. I had the world of technology in my grasp. I was master of the cyberverse...
My blinker was on. I swear. I pulled out on green. I did. Why that old lady in the 1979 Ford Fairlane thought she had the right of way I'll never know.
 Mistubishi Galant damage: $1,099.87 for new bumper and front panel and left headlight.
Ford Fairlane damage: Scratch visible on chrome bumper if standing two feet away and staring hard, looking for it.
 Not a fair fight, Fairweather Fairlane!
 Good thing my iPad is insured... at least it isn't damaged, actually. It saved my life. In mid blog, at the point of impact, my iPad shielded my face from the steering wheel as my head slammed down. Unfortunately, my left eye collided with the corner of my iPad and nearly caused a blood vessel to burst.
The eye doctor was polite enough, until he heard what had happened. Then he acted like insurance wouldn't cover eye injuries while blogging and driving.
I think he's just jealous, since he doesn't have an iPad. Well, now I'm one up on everyone. I have an iPhone, and iPad, and now, an iPatch...

Friar Francis Part 4

 Hello again, always good to see you. A fact of the matter is, it is a surprise to see you on here. Watching me. I mean, not that I am not interesting or entertaining, it's just that... well, I'm not so interesting, or entertaining.
 Ahem, well, again, this is Friar Francis, as you may know, I am a 16th century Franciscan monk magically and tragically transported to 21st century America.
 So, here I am going on my first adventure outside the monastery.
 OPENS DOOR TO REVEAL A BEAUTIFUL FIELD.
Hmmm. So peaceful. I thought the outside world was full of strife and anxiety.
 SITS TO ENJOY THE SURROUNDINGS. SOMEONE DRIVES BY AND THROWS A McDONALD's WRAPPER AND EMPTY CUP AT HIM.

Friar Francis Part 3

 Hello again, Friar Francis, YouTube sensation here. For those of you just tuning in, please refer to parts 1 and 2 in earlier blogs.
 I am Friar Francis, a 16th century monk magically and tragically transported to 21st century America. Don't ask me how. I am not even sure why this has happened to me at this junction in my lifehood.
 Please forgive also my lack of good communication skill sets in the American English languague as I am a new beginner to such communication skill sets.
 Also, realize I am not familiarizated with the 21st century YouTube generation, so if I come across rather 16th centuryish, please understand it is not intended to offend so please accept my advanced apologizations.
 I am speaking to you in my very best authentic Mexican Spanish Monk accent this day. I hope you are available to understand.
 Today is the first day I am going out to see the modern world. I am leaving my monastery and the peace and tranquility it offers to see the lost and dying world around me. I have been instructed as a monk to help those in need, so if you need anything, please don't hesitate to call onto me. If I have a telephone number, I will find it out and immediately and will let you be informed of the telephone situation and how to contact me at a convenient time.
Thank you again for your dignified patience as I learn the English American language barrier and fight for helping those who are not in help at this time.
 PAUSE
Thank you.
PAUSE
I am finished now and can now stop the video.
PAUSE
I do not understand technology or how to finish the video at this time, so please bear with my shortcomings.
PAUSE
Stop the video.
GETS ANGRY
Stop the video NOW!
WALKS OFF ANGRILY.
(A few seconds of empty room, then video stops.)

JCPenney, Sears...

...My job hunt continues. I feel like my buddy Darren, who told me at church tonight that his kids each got a deer in youth season, but he failed to bag the big one this year himself.
 Sears. Just past women's underwear, buried in the corner around the side. The door says "Human Resources". It's open. I walk in and ask about work to the lady at the desk.
 She rises and shows me where the computer kiosk is to apply. It is back in the main part of the store just before women's underwear.
 I have to look down at the screen since there is no chair and I am taller than the average applicant.
 I click on job titles. Can only choose one, so choose wisely!
 First choice, sales. Then I go to the next screen, and the red letter pop up with a message. NO SALES POSITIONS OPEN AT THIS LOCATION.
 I go back a screen and select MANAGEMENT.
 Same red letter message. Nothing available.
Go back and hit the next category. And the next, getting the same red letter message that no positions are open.
Every category is a strike out. No need to burden Sears with my work history. Next!
JCPenney's, here I come. Got to Penney's where I searched each quadrant of the second floor in my quest for the kiosk to apply. None found, I asked an employee (I hate to bother them with such trivial matters).
 Third floor, I was told. Hmm. Forgot they had one.
 I take the elevator to the third floor and, sure enough, a kiosk awaits. I enter the code, and listen to a short video of an executive explaining the benefits of working for JCPenney.
 I take a simple survey, and answer the questions, whether Strongly Agree, Somewhat Agree, Neither Agree Nor Disagree, Somewhat Disagree, or Strongly Disagree.
 Wonder if I passed the quiz?
 I may never know. But for now, I entered my information and click "Finish." My fate is in your hands, JCPenney. At least until tomorrow.

"Job-ba the Hunt"

 My job hunt continues. I suited up in my only power suit ("borrowed" from a previous employer) since I am otherwise unsuited for suits because they cost money I don't have.
 In the mall. Christmas rush. Gotta find somebody hiring here, right? All the jewelry shops. I hit every one.
I look the part. They like me, but don't have any openings until "possibly January". I haven't had much money since "possibly May"... well, OK, since December 2008 when my big bucks employer didn't get a contract for '09, but who's counting?
 Next on the hunt are the big retailers. Dillard's is big.
 Me (to Dillard's employee): Where do I find out about employment?
DE: The main store on the other end of the mall. (Looks at me like I'm doing poorly in junior high or something.)
Me: Thank you. (Leaves quickly, with purposeful steps toward the exit.)
I arrive at other end of the mall. Other Dillard's entrance. I instinctively go up the escalator. All big companies bury their HR departments in a corner.

 During the escalator ascent, I check my flawless appearance in the mirrored wall. Looking sharp! Lookin' employable, yeah!
 Nice older lady employee upstairs: Hi! (Wants to sell me something really badly...?)
 Me: Hello. Where can I find out about employment?
NOLE: Down that way, take a left at Christmas and go through the  trees. Can't miss it.
 As a career journalist, I never thought I'd end up my age, being directed through Christmas trees to find the answer to "do you have a job?"

 I find Christmas (and it's only November!) and find the two trees (can't miss 'em, they're big, they're bright!) and I look around a dark little corner with a restroom and drinking fountain on one side, and a desk on the other. I go toward the fountain and decide I'm thirsty, contemplating. Will this be $9 an hour? That's only $6 an hour short of my "break even" expenses for a family of six...
 I go up to the desk.
Nice guy at the desk: May I help you?
Me: I'm checking to see if you have any job openings.
NGATD: No. We're not hiring until January.
 (Strange, most people go shopping BEFORE Christmas. Who hires in January? What a put off! At least learn to lie better...grrr...)
 I retreat through the trees, exit Christmas, take a right and smile "phonily" at the eager older lady employee as I find the descending escalators for JCPenney.

Blue Friday

We'd been working since midnight, stocking shelves and putting away boxes. There was hardly time to look up. The biggest shopping day of the year had arrived, and our isles brimmed with bargains in anticipation of the 5 a.m. opening.
 I was shocked to find a small crowd already huddled in the outside the locked main doors when I showed up for work.
 "It's gonna be a busy day," I said to Jimmy, a temporary worker.  I liked the young man, maybe because his nickname, "Jimmy" is the same as my actual name. He was big as a football tackle, but a teddy bear. Jimmy was always ready to help. He helped me put up some last minute displays. As we walked toward the front of the store about 3:30 a.m., we heard it. A sound like a distant waterfall. We peered through the front doors. People were standing with their faces pressed against the glass.
 "Wow," Jimmy commented in his Dominican accent. "Lot of people. Lot of money coming in today."
 I smiled. "That's one way to put it," I said, but I felt something strange. Should I call security?
 My manager had already done that. Her face looked grim. I overheard her talking about the crowd gathering outside.
 "No need to call police," another manager said. "We'll just have our people line up in front of the doors and slow the shoppers down. This is a good sign, let's not overreact."
 By 4:30, all the employees were talking about the mob at the doors. Though only illuminated by parking lot lights, they looked like hungry wolves pressing to get in. The din they emitted was an undulating cadence of chaos.
 I swallowed hard as I looked at Jimmy. He wasn't smiling now. He was big. He'd take it better than I. We were positioned ten feet back from the main doors like two fish in a tank surrounded by an ocean of humanity.
 But this wasn't humane humanity. It was wild-eyed, first in line, get outta my way humanity.
 Other employees flanked the front area, forming a human chain. Would our simple line deter that mob of thousands? As far as I could see, faces bobbed before the entire length of the store.
 The chanting began. My blood chilled. I couldn't make out the words at first.
"Take down the door!" "Break down the door!" 5:45 a.m. Fifteen minutes. Could we hold out?
 Managers' radios squawked. Now there was talk of calling police. I fingered my cell phone, considering a 9-1-1 call. But what would I say? Shoppers are going to overwhelm us? Who would believe that?
 I turned to comment to Jimmy when terrifying explosion ripped the doors off the hinges. Glass shattered and feet were pounding. Jimmy was down. An onslaught of rushing feet transformed into instruments of death!
I reached for him, getting sucked into the maelstrom.  My hand grasped his, but the feet wouldn't stop. "Get off him! Get off me! Get outta the way!" I screamed. My panicked mind raced. We were an ineffective human speed bump on a racetrack to discounts.
 It kept coming, I was on my feet, too shocked to realize how to help Jimmy. I heard him gasping for breath. "Slow down!" I heard other employees shouting. A pregnant woman was on the ground. Other shoppers lay moaning.
 My eyes saw the carnage, but couldn't comprehend it. We were in a war zone, not a Wal-Mart.
 I saw police and medical workers respond, but it was as if I were watching a movie. But it really happened. Jimmy was dead.  His real name was Jdimytai Damour. He was 34.http://nytimes.com/2008/11/30/nyregion/30walmart.html?

Saddest sound

 The sound of the zipper closing the suitcase is the saddest sound when you're the one closing it because you have to leave your family against your will.
 My suitcase zipper made that sound. Now I'm in another house, living out of that lonely zipper sounding suitcase. In this other house, not my own, I'm held captive by thoughts of regret. I sleep on a couch in my clothes and get up to leave as soon as possible. Sometimes I even sleep in my shoes. The change in my pockets rattles as I toss and turn. I collect it every morning off the couch and return it to my pockets.
 I am alone in the dark in the house not my own. I squeeze my eyes shut but I can't shut out the sound of the zipper closing me out of my familiar space. It is a prolonged lonely sound.
 I never wanted to close that suitcase and hear that pitiful zipper moan. If I could have done anything to avoid this living nightmare, I would have. But I didn't.
 I created my own nightmare and now I'm forced to live it wide awake. I eventually fall asleep. I dream I am home in my bed with my wife. Sometimes I am at my home, watching my kids, waiting for my wife to come home. I fall asleep on my own couch and when I wake, my wife is home, but I must go. It seems so backward. Seems so out of place. I walk away into the night.
 I look at my house from the outside. I imagine myself inside, warm and laughing and cuddling with my family.
 I look at my life from the outside and see the lights going out on the inside.
As I walk away from my home in the night, the sound of the zipper closing me out haunts me.