I’ve been thinking recently about what I find attractive in a man. Partly because as I age I’m gaining more and more of the qualities that I like to see in others. It really isn’t just about what’s swinging between his legs … no really.
Immediately I notice and am attracted to men with facial hair, but not really long beards or funky sideburns from the 70s. This attraction increases significantly if they have gray hair, it’s always been this way, just something about a man with a gray beard or goatee turns the right knob in my system… heh heh, I said knob.
If they have their shirt off I love to see a hairy chest unless he’s black, it’s the only exception, I love the look of a black man with a hairless chest, i think that’s weird but there you have it.
They can have a full head of hair or be bald or have a shaved head all that is good, but i’m not a fan of long hair on a guy – there are exceptions to this rule
1 exceptionyummy
Generally I’m a fan of barrel chested, hairy men – I don’t like them skinny bitches, I do not like them at all. The men can have a belly but no man boobies – that’s a big turn off too. Here is an example of the max amount of man boobies:
I’d be ok with this
in a more intimate setting their eyes matter, I love blue and green eyes; love some men in glasses and some men without. The feel of callused, a working mans hands, the smudge and smell of grease and sweat, thick build, tattoos, a rough half-smile, not too cheery, certainly not girly at all.
probably TMI, but it’s been floating around my head now for a week and it had to come out.
My best friend Suzanne is a vegan, she’s been a Vegan for a little over a year now. It’s a personal choice for her, I know she thought long and hard about it but ultimately decided that if she wanted to have a clear conscious about how people treat animals then she had to become a vegan. I’m sure there was more to it, I’m almost positive there is. She’s managed to become a vegan and still teach insane amounts of exercise classes that whenever I’m in town she drags me along to. So she gets enough protein, vitamins, sustenance or what have you to be totally awesome as a Body Step, Zumba and Body Pump instructor (for the record, I hate Body Pump and my body hurts so much after)… ok, really the vegan thing has little to do with the class instructing, but she can do that even without eating meat which I think is pretty amazing, because I live on meat. She even says that she loves the tastes of all the new vegetables and tofu she’s discovered on this journey.
She’s not pushy about being a vegan either, she doesn’t talk down to me because I eat meat, she just knows how she feels about it and lets me go on about being the person I am and she lives by example… that’s a novel idea isn’t it. She’s a pretty amazing woman for that reason too (there is a long, long list for why she’s amazing, I’m just focusing on a little here).
This weekend I was going to try some of her fake milk, but I forgot – someone somewhere is probably saying “It’s not fake, it’s ALMOND milk.” or “soy milk”. Whatever… the point is I really was going to try, but this morning I had the bowl of oatmeal already in the bowl when she reminded me and I don’t take milk in my oatmeal, so I didn’t get to.
So because I didn’t get to try the fake milk (let it go people) I decided to post these really cute photos of her dog instead.
More than a few men recently have commented on my tattoos (and piercings) and said that having tattoos means your into kinky sex. No really, this is what they keep telling me. This really kind of throws me, I’ve had tattoos much longer than I’ve been having sex. Also I’ve had sex with people who have tattoos and really – a few of those encounters were pretty boring.
In the gay community over the years they established lots of little tells to let other closeted gays know they were there or what they were into. Rainbow stickers are everywhere now, but 10 – 20 years ago and longer people had to be much more discrete about these type of things so they developed these markers for others. There is even a hanky code for what you might or might not be into – I should warn you clicking on that link might be TMI for you.
For me it’s about art, about expressing myself and the things I like. Each and every tattoo I have is based on something I like or something that means a lot to me. Superman, lightning bolts, Greek gods, AA, bear paw prints, old nicknames…
My first tattoo was done by my friend Ted or maybe his brother Tim (I was 14, stoned or drunk and my memory isn’t what it used to be) using a needle, some thread and india ink. That symbol was painfully put on one needle stick at a time and represented the 12 Greek gods. It was crude in comparison to what I have on my body now, but at that age it was pretty cool thing to have.
Since then I’ve gotten more complicated with what I want on my body – my first tattoo as an adult covered up that tattoo that I got when I was young, but I wasn’t very clear about what I wanted it to be and gave the artist too much leeway so it ended up being a question mark that isn’t really very pretty – it looks better now that I’ve surrounded it by a dragon (which was hand drawn on my arm by this guy at Jinx Proof, so cool. The next was the Superman symbol, then the lightning bolt, armband, bear claw print, tramp stamp (Zeus), AA symbol on my leg, and finally the ancient Greek Gods tat on my back.
None of those, well except maybe the tramp stamp and the arm band, says anything about sex. Well not that I know of. Its like when I wear a cross necklace – I don’t wear a cross necklace because I believe in crucifying believers – I just happen to like how cross necklaces look sometimes.
Recently with the Sikh shooter the press has been throwing this statement out there:
An agent from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms told ABC News that the shooter had tattoos.
Tattoos don’t make a shooter anymore than sandals make a monk. That’s the motivation behind this post (even though I did have several men express that my tattoos meant I was into kinky sex – which I’m not…. well, what did you have in mind exactly? )
I do sometimes worry about my tattoos and them being misinterpreted by others. Lightning bolts, dragons and Superman can all be associated with the KKK and I keep my head shaved. But really, I’m just an ordinary gay guy that likes tattoos – I have no hidden agendas (well none that I’m ready to share with the world, my manifesto will be on the New York Times Best Seller list – I’m certain) or particular hates of any kind of people. I dislike humans in general, but I don’t target specific groups to hate, really it takes too much effort.
I just really don’t like when we associate bad/stupid/moronic/crazy people with what they wear or how they look. After the Aurora shootings movie theaters banned folks from wearing masks when going to the theater – the guy who shot those people didn’t buy a ticket, he came in through the back door. After Columbine schools across the country banned black trench coats. After the Amish school shooting in PA in 2006, our President expressed his concern of school violence (this last one I’m not sure which was the more bad/stupid/moronic/crazy – the former President or the shooter).
You know the old saying: don’t judge a book by its cover.
My roommates (Gary) mother passed away Friday night, she was just a few weeks short of 97 years old. She had been in hospice care for about three weeks and in the nursing home for 18 months. She had been unconscious for over a day and had quit being hungry or thirsty several days prior. Chances are she died peacefully in her sleep. I first met Gary’s mom probably 14 years ago and she was this frail little old woman with a beaming smile and a glint in her eyes. She was sweet and yet stuck in her ways. Even back then I remember her expressing her dissatisfaction with living as long as she had “no one should live this long” she would say.
I don’t want to live that long, hell I think I can accomplish most of what I want to do in the next few years. The older you get the more problems you’re likely to have, no matter what your physical fitness level your bones will start to strain more, your teeth will start to fall out (mine are already doing a great job of falling apart) your system starts to react differently than it has the previous forty years. Nature is saying, hey – that’s enough now, we need fertilizer. Who am I to deny nature, whose idea was it to want to keep living longer and longer. Foolishness.
I have a few friends that I’ve talked with about such things and we’ve even discussed the possibility of getting cancer or some other life threatening disease and not fighting it, I mean really why would you put all that poison into your system to maybe live another ten or twenty years – seems ridiculous to me. Friends who have had cancer say “You can’t say that, you haven’t been there.” I haven’t played ice hockey and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to do that too. OK, maybe that was a silly answer, but I’m pretty sure if the moment came I’d just let the disease have me.
If they’d let me.
See the fear lies in the people who think they know better, the ones that help to influence laws to say we don’t have a right to die when we’re ready. If I was faced with a painful life-threatening illness and wanted to end my life – there are laws that say “Oh No, you can’t kill yourself that’s immoral” or some crap. Remember Dr. Kevorkian? That guy helped people die, not people who were depressed or spent all the law firms money and were looking for a way out, but the ones that were actually dying or living in such pain that death was a solution. That man was sent to prison for 10 – 25 years for helping people die, for putting voluntary people out of their misery. We’re one fucked up society.
Anyway. I’ve talked to a lot of people about dying and coming to the end of their journey. One friend expects he’ll live another ten years max as his parents both died at that age. Several friends have no desire to be hooked up to machines that help them breathe or stay alive in any fashion. More than one friend has expressed interest in denying treatment if they were diagnosed with a life threatening illness. Most of these folks are happy with life as it is but have done what they wanted to do in life. These folks have lived their lives like they wanted to live them and are happy, surprise surprise.
I’m not generally happy, but I’m content with my choices, accomplishments and story. I’m ready.
Just an upfront disclaimer: this is how I perceive things. You may not perceive things the way that I do. You might be offended or butt hurt at what I’ve had to say, if that’s the case you really shouldn’t be reading my blog…
When I sobered up I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by Big Book Thumping, Tradition Practicing, Service oriented old-timers. I was told on a few occasions to take the cotton out of my ears and put it in my mouth until I knew what I was talking about – that was usually during a step meeting where they were discussing a step I hadn’t done yet… you know, any of them. From that group, I think it was called the Sunday Serenity Group, I not only got to hear about the Steps and Traditions of Alcoholics Anonymous I got to see people actually putting those principles in action in their daily lives. This was my first “Home Group” and I made it there every Sunday night for a year, just like I was told to do. That meeting wasn’t a Big Book Study Group, it was a Step meeting with the last meeting of the month the Tradition of the month. What I did get at that meeting was a sponsor who had been taken through the Steps as laid out in the first 164 pages of our text-book, Alcoholics Anonymous – and he was willing to take me through that same process which gave me the tools I needed to not only find a power greater than myself that would relieve me of my alcoholism, but also provide the tools to be a productive member of society.
One of my other regular meetings was the 5:30 Monday Night Big Book group, there we went through the book; every week reading a couple of pages out of the Book and then folks could share their experience with what was read – if they had any. This group would get to the end of the 164 and turn around and read it again. The Book, the Steps, the Traditions – were everywhere that I went to meetings. I couldn’t have escaped if I had wanted to.
I was also a member of the Eau Claire Pacific Group that meets every Thursday night. An open speaker meeting with thirty minutes of call-up before the speaker. Great enthusiasm, lots of service work, experience strength and hope each week from the podium. It’s where I learned to feel comfortable introducing myself to strangers, where I learned to shake new people’s hands and where I learned the importance of suiting up and showing up.
When I moved to the DC area I tried to find meetings that were similar to what I had gotten sober with. I looked for a good Step Meeting that met regularly, I sought out a Big Book Study and I also hoped to find a regular speaker meeting. I didn’t find things that were like home. This is typical, and something I should have anticipated but did not. In hindsight upon traveling all over the country in the last ten years – every region has its little traditions that are specific to the region and as you may know each group is autonomous except in matter affecting other groups or AA as a whole.
Every Big Book meeting I encountered was focused more on reading the stories in the back of the book (after Page 164) then they were the meat of the deal. The directions, the prayers, the actions in the front of the book weren’t read at all – unless it was to read the Promises, How it Works or the end of A Vision for You. Every step meeting I encountered focused more on the steps as laid out in the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (the argument here by those with more time than I have is that when Bill wrote the 12×12 he had more experience and knew better what to say for how to stay sober – but I’ve not found in that book anything like the specific direction and suggestions that I find in the Big Book so I nod and smile at them).
A few months before 9/11 I started a Big Book Meeting using the format I grew up with in WI, but between 9/11 and the honest belief by attendees that AA is about coming to complain about your day – it didn’t last. So I officially gave up trying to find or create meetings that were similar what I had been brought up with. I still went to meetings just to occupy the chair, not much more. If I shared, which was rare, it was because of something I had heard that was just that outrageous that I couldn’t contain my anger or disappointment. That’s not really a good way to share the message – brow beating people who have managed to NOT pick up a drink today or for the last 10 – 20 years is no way to win friends either. So I settled on continuing to read my book, listening to speakers via Round-Ups and Conferences, Podcast or CD of the month clubs – while still attending meetings regularly.
First Edition Big Book
Then I met my tattoo artist, who’s been in DC a few years now from Houston, TX (there is a Houston WI or MN just a FYI) who talked to me over long tattoo sessions about his sobriety, the book and the difference in meetings here in DC vs meetings in other parts of the country. He invited me to come to a Saturday meeting he attends where he said was attracting people interested in the book. I honestly just didn’t give it any real consideration – I had given up on meetings here after all. Then a person heard me share at a meeting I regularly attend and he thanked me for sharing and ALSO invited me to that group, so I figured maybe there was something to it – never saw that person again btw.
That first Saturday Noon meeting I met two or three more people, relatively new to the area who also were brought up on the Big Book and were desperately seeking a solution based meeting. The next week, I met another two people and before you knew it there were six of us that really wanted to start a new meeting that would “study” the book. We started mass texts, long chains of emails, discussed formats, laughed at one another, ate lots of food and became a group – sooner than we’ve become a meeting.
Our book, our text-book, says in There is a Solution page 29 “Further on , clear-cut directions are given showing how we recovered.” It’s my belief, and the belief of this new group, that people need to be shown these directions. It’s my belief that if they follow the suggestions as written in this book they will be “rocketed into a fourth dimension of existence of which we had not even dreamed”
So on Tuesday nights at 7:15, starting on July 31, 2012 at the Dupont Circle Club we’re going to start reading the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous. The format of the meeting is reading a small section of the book, then allowing all those who want to participate a chance to share – lather, rinse, repeat. Once we get to page 164 we’ll start all over again. If you want to discover a design for living that really works, a way of life that is immensely greater than you ever imagined… come join us.
This time I’m not creating a meeting alone with no one else knowing what I’m talking about, this time I had to compromise on several things that I wanted, this time … well, this time it might really work. I’d love that.
If you’re looking for a meeting to talk about your bad day or complain about your spouse… this is probably not the meeting for you, fortunately for you there are plenty of those type of meetings and we can probably direct you to one within walking distance.
Recently I’ve read two older books that I wouldn’t normally have picked up to read: The Godfather by Mario Puzo and Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury.
Below this line there may be significant spoilers, if you think you want to read these books and never have before just stop reading now.
——
I read Fahrenheit 451 after a friend posted on Facebook that he’d never read it, having never read it myself and having Mr. Bradbury die recently I thought I’d better see what all the fuss was about. I hadn’t read any synopsis of the story and only went into it with the knowledge of Ray Bradbury being a sci-fi guy so I had an open mind – I’d learned long ago that just because it’s science fiction doesn’t mean it’s good. What I found was a world where firemen don’t put out fires anymore, they start them. They burn houses that have books and if there are people inside those houses that wont move then the people burn too. It’s the story of one particular fireman who starts to think… that’s it, he meets this strange girl who proposes silly questions to him that start his mind working again. When he goes home that night his wife has taken a bottle of pills and the emergency crews come and resuscitate her and tell him they deal with a few of those each night, nothing to be worried about, sure enough the next day the wife has no idea what he’s talking about and just wants to watch her series in the “room”. There is a lot more to the story, but that’s where it starts.
The story is really quite good, very short and I recommend you pick it up if you’ve never read it. For me it was a reflection on modern times of all the brainless zombies watching TV and longing to be entertained but unwilling to think for themselves and those that do think for themselves are taken away and made to conform to the norm. It touches on all aspects of society today – young kids with no supervision, government officials and media squashing the truth, millions of brain addled glued to the TV. Go pick it up, you’ll thank me later and you know what? You might see something totally different from I did, and that’s perfectly OK. Authors love that, well I think they do anyway, I’d rather someone see what they want to see in one of my stories instead of seeing only what I want – your imagination could make mine look like a nanobyte.
—-
Also on Facebook I saw a link listing top movies of all time and realized I’ve never seen The Godfather so I posted that and asked if it was a necessity. Quite a few folks said I should see it, and my friend Chip said: “The movies.. especially the first are great.. The book.. is wonderful.. Read it.. you’ll thank me later..” So I purchased it on my Kindle app and entered a rich world of characters, stories, connections… it was beautiful the way it was laid out and each piece fit so well together. I went in expecting to be bored, I mean what do I care about mobsters? The storytelling was just phenomenal and I kept wondering what was going to happen to characters with each turn of the electronic page. I didn’t want to like any of the characters to start out with but I ended up really just being a part of the story. I started it on a Sunday and was finished on a Thursday – I was in the middle of a hundred different things and only had a chance to read most of it at night before drifting to sleep.
Now, having read it I thought that I’d probably better see the movie to see what all the fuss is about. I’ve made it through half of the movie so far and I really am not very happy watching. There are so many rich details from the book that didn’t come through the parts I’ve seen. So many scenes that defined a character or a reaction that weren’t there at all before a pivotal scene. I know what you’re thinking… The book is always better than the movie. But this was really lackluster in comparison to what I’ve seen done with movies – the Lord of the Rings Trilogy for example was a beautiful transition from page to screen and I felt I could state word for word the lines I expected to be coming. The Watchmen is another story that was done really well (yes, they screwed up some of the stories for odd reasons, but) it stuck remarkably well to the book. I guess that’s what I was really hoping to see. If you’re going to name a movie one of the top 10 of all time, I would expect more than what I’ve seen so far of it… Some have said “you have to watch the second one, that fills in a lot of what your talking about” Well, that’s not really what I had hoped to do… I think the first one made the list, not the second one.
Maybe someday I’ll try to watch the movie again when the book isn’t so fresh in my mind, but I think it’s a shame that this much goodness wasn’t better. Some might be offended, but hey it’s what I thought so bite me.
I flew out to Wisconsin this time for the wedding of very dear friends, Eric and Rosy. Eric and Rosy dated back in high school and like most high school romances it came to an end and they went their separate ways. A few years back they rekindled the love they felt and I was fortunate enough to be the best man for the ceremony. They got hitched in Wisconsin Dells at a little hotel called the White Rose Inn. I had never been to Wisconsin Dells before and was amazed at the traffic, tourists and teething toddlers.
The Happy Couple
I stayed at the Great Wolf Lodge, Eric picked it I think, a family friendly resort with it’s own water park – let me say it was more expensive than a very nice hotel in DC would have been; Eric is no longer allowed to pick hotels. I was given an accessible room (there was a wheelchair symbol on the sign outside the door) that wasn’t fully compliant, I notice these things now that I’ve worked for Jim for six years – I’ve sent them an email about the issues I noticed. Eric and Rosy managed to pick one of the hottest days of the year to get married, and I’m amazed we all survived the sweltering heat. It was very sweet and I finally got to meet all of the kids and had a great time.
On Sunday morning I left the Dells for Galesville, I told my Ma I’d be there about noon so she wouldn’t skip church or her regular Sunday routine, I really don’t want her to go out of her way. Rhonda, Michael and Michelle were at the house when I arrived. Ma returned from lunch and Cory and Danielle came over with Charlie and Patrick and we had pizza. Mostly at Ma’s Ma and I read while Rhonda went to work and Michael worked on demos or what ever. At the suggestion of my best friend Suzanne’s dad, Chip, I started to read The Godfather and couldn’t put it down – after reading it I started to watch the movie but it really is watered down so I don’t know how much I’m going to enjoy it.
Tuesday night I had dinner with my sister Amy, her daughter Joplin and Amy’s long term boyfriend who’s name escapes me for whatever reason. Afterwards we played Cranium for a while which was fun.
Wednesday I headed up to the Chippewa Valley. Pat and I went off to see The Amazing Spider-Man which I really liked. Pat, Brenda and I went out to dinner at Texas Roadhouse and then headed back to my hotel where we all partook of the swimming pool. Did I mention this was the hottest week of the year? Thursday I had lunch with Nicholas at Taco John’s, swam for a while in the hotel pool, napped and finally headed out to the Eau Claire Pacific Group where I was the main speaker – I did ok, nothing to get excited about, just ok. After the meeting I joined the guys for food at Perkin’s before heading back home to bed. Friday I had breakfast with Pat and Brenda. Friday afternoon I met my brother Ryan for dinner at Texas Roadhouse and then we went to see the movie Savages, which was ok.
Saturday morning after dropping in to say goodbye to the Isenberger’s I drove down to Galesville and used my GPS, which was a huge mistake. The GPS on the way down to the Dells had me leave the interstate to go off on a county road for a few miles only to put me back on the interstate – it also had me drive through the Dells to my hotel which was two exits up and would have been easier to get to had I stayed there… had I remembered all that I might have not even thought of following the GPS. But I did and ended up on several back roads but finally did make it to my Ma’s. Ma and I went to Winona for dinner. Michael was brough back from canoeing and was passed out in his truck until about 1:30 a.m. Sunday morning Ma, Rhonda, Greg, Michael and I went out to breakfast and around noon I headed off to the LaCrosse airport.
I had a long lay over in Minneapolis, three hours, and then the head flight attendant was pretty grumpy on our plane. She had us turn off our electronic devices 5 – 10 minutes before the door was closed and came on the loudspeaker a few times to insist that we turn off our electronic devices so we could depart on time, meanwhile folks were still coming on board and we were subjected to listening to children crying an obnoxious laughter. Any time she made announcements you could here the frustration in her voice, obviously she’d had a long day and been subjected to annoying passengers, but at the end of the day you still have to treat your customers right. As we were landing there was some turbulence before the initial decent and she had us turn off our electronic devices much sooner than we normally would and then when the pilot announced we were beginning our initial decent she came on to say something about us not following crew member instructions – really if she had been even a bit nicer I’m sure it would have gone better for her.
Then I arrived home and the kitty was very happy to see me, and she’s interrupted my writing this several times for love… so I’d better go see to her.
Tonight at dinner I bit into my salad and found an unexpected treat. A twist tie from a bread bag or something had somehow ended up in my salad. I took it out and showed it to my waiter who then gave me the meal free, which was nice but not necessary, these things happen – I did continue to eat the salad, hell I love that thing. What was interesting was a memory got tugged out of the nether and put back into conscious thought of a time that had happened to me once before.
*activate wavy screen effect to simulate a warp back through the time-stream to see the story Jamez is talking about here*
Probably twenty years ago now I used to stop at the Kwik Trip on Main Street in Whitehall after spending countless hours at Dave’s Bar. Fortunately for me at the time not only was Kwik Trip open 24 hours a day, they cooked food… which was nice if you’re a drunk on a winter night in WI with no home of your own. On many a night I would stop there after running out of drinking money, or to pick up a cheap case of beer to take back where ever I was staying – usually just had enough for a lottery ticket or a burger.
(A completely different story at this quick trip I had one dollar left in my wallet – was out of booze and cigarettes and I decided to purchase a lottery ticket, that’s the logical thing to do in that situation if you’re a drunk. I scratched away and got three TV’s that means I won $100 and a chance to be on the Wisconsin Lottery TV show in Milwaukee which I think netted me a little over $400 – not that that was helping me get beer or cigarettes at this point, the $100 wasn’t instant and I was more pissed off than I was excited. On another note, recently that Kwik Trip sold two 1 Million Dollar lottery tickets, that would have likely pissed me off too as it wasn’t instant booze).
So I was pretty drunk the night I stumbled into the Kwik Trip, someone had probably pissed me off as I can remember being a little mad just getting there. Where were my friends? Hell I don’t know either passed out or still at Dave’s drinking away. I ordered my usual burger at the counter and waited at one of the tables until they brought it out to me. I was likely talking to myself, likely reeked of beer and might have smiled at the lady who brought it, but that might have taken too much effort.
I was eating away at the burger and fries and washing them down with a Dr. Pepper most likely – you can’t drink beer in the Kwik Trip, silly rules… then it happened, I bit down into the burger and bit something hard. I pulled it out and sure enough it was a twisty like the ones used for bread packages and such… My alcoholic mind did something like this:
Wow, I could have died.
I wonder if someone is trying to kill me, does that girl know me?
Where am I? I thought I was at Dave’s?
I could sue, I wonder how much money I could get?
If I sued then I’d likely not be able to buy beer here anymore, or maybe I could buy beer here but they’d probably find a different way to screw me over.
It’s too late to buy beer at the store, damn it I hope there is some left at the house.
I might have a beer or two stashed in my room.
Why is this twist tie in my hand? Oh yeah…
What should I do now?
I managed to get my head straight enough to figure out I should talk to someone at the store about this and got up and went to the counter. I told them I had found this twisty tie in my burger and I think I actually said “I should be mad about this I think” and then I’m pretty sure I said “Shouldn’t I be mad about this?” and “My burger should be free or something, I could have been hurt” probably a “this is unacceptable” as I always thought things were unacceptable. I tried very hard to be very upset but a part of me realized how drunk I was and I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep it together long enough to get the story straight. Most of me was convinced they’d accuse me of lying and placing the twist tie in there myself for attention.
I think I did actually get my meal paid for and I honestly forgot all about the incident until this night when I bit into the twisty tie in my salad. Anyway, I just had to get that out of my head and on “paper” so to speak before it disappeared again.
In DC I get a jury summons every two years. On most of these occasions the case has been a drug related offense and once I mention that I’m in recovery they excuse me, they never say “Oh you’re in a twelve step program you can’t be impartial” but they’ve never let me stay. I think I could be impartial in a drug or alcohol related case, I can differentiate between my own experience and events in other peoples lives… right? On a few of the times I’ve been called I was dismissed almost immediately with a group of other potential jurors, perhaps a judge was on vacation that day. I was even called once to be a member of a grand jury, I think it was, where each night before 6:00 I had to call a number to see if I had to be present at a jury the next morning – that was like two weeks and I’m glad I didn’t get chosen for that.
This time I was hoping for the usual result, maybe get released no later than 3:00 – but that was not to be. When the second group of jurors was being called my number was selected and I got in line with everyone else and waited, and waited some more. Then they sorted us by some means that was not apparent to us and marched us into the court room. I was seated in the jury box in seat number 9 and never moved from that spot, I kept waiting and waiting but they never asked me to move to the audience. The judge, avery efficient no nonsense type lady, asked us ten questions that might get us excused from the case. I can’t remember most of the questions but they were like: do you recognize anyone on the witness list? have you or anyone in your immediate family been charged within the last ten years for resisting arrest, property damage, reckless endangerment or …, and if there were any reason you felt you couldn’t serve on the jury (sick kid, wedding, whatever). I honestly couldn’t answer any of the questions “yes” so I didn’t. The judge still called each member of the jury up to the bench, one by one for about an hour and a half to ask if they had any of the questions answered yes – in that time I did get to go out to lunch after I talked to her. That afternoon they played musical chairs with the jury, pulling this person out and replacing them with another they shuffled folks about five times before the judge finally let us know that those of us in the jury box were the “winners”.
My fellow jurors (12 with two alternates) and I all listened intently to the judge explain all the rules as the trial started, she was telling us to turn off our electronic devices when her own cell phone beeped and she smiled and said, this is exactly why. She explained that the lawyers could say lots of different things in their opening and closing statements, but those were statements and beliefs not evidence. We were to judge the case based on the evidence and while the attorney might believe that what they are saying is true, if it’s not presented as evidence then we should not consider it to be so. I could be messing this up, but this is what I interpreted her saying. The judge then read off a long list of charges for the defendant, a young looking african-american male, evading arrest, property damage, reckless driving… there were a lot.
We then heard the opening statement from the government, the prosecutor seemed nice enough, talked clearly and smiled an awful lot. The defense opted not to give an opening statement, which is their right. Before we knew it we started to hear testimony from the first witness called by the government. A police officer one of two that were involved in the incident came and answered the prosecutions questions amidst the objections and questions from the defense and occasionally prompted by the judge who could probably tell we (the jury) were already getting tired of the mundane nature of the questions. The defense questioned the witness next and did manage to poke holes into his testimony. The defense attorney was an older african-american woman who took a few minutes to get out of her chair and a few more just to get to the bench for private discussions – all the jurors mentioned it or giggled when talking about it in the jury room.
We had a break and when we came back there was a new officer on the stand who’s answers to the same questions were remarkably different from the previous officer. There was even a large map where the first officer placed stickers where the suspect was first seen, where he jumped a fence and where he was apprehended but the second officer placed his stickers in different spots blocks away. One officer said it was too dark to see in the vehicle, the other said he saw three or four people in it…. it was really kind of funny and it took a bit of effort not to giggle.
Then the day came to an end and we were asked to return the next day for a 10:00 a.m. start, getting into the courthouse through the security line can take a good 30 minutes if its backed up.
All 14 of us were there by 10:00 and we sat in the jury room for 45 more minutes before we were called into the courtroom. Once there the judge apologized for keeping us waiting and then explained that all but two of the charges were dropped from this trial. All we had left to rule on was reckless driving and evading arrest. We had heard the judge talk to the attorneys at the bench – we could hear in spite of the white noise machine and she had berated the prosecutor for trying to prove charges without any evidence to back it up.
We then were treated to closing arguments from the government then the defense and then a rebuttal closing from the government. Lots of statements that had no basis in the evidence that was presented, lots of boasting and such but nothing that told me this kid was even in the car.
The judge then revealed that the two alternate jurors were to be excused now and that those two jurors had been picked at random before the jury selection process had even begun. The two jurors were #11 and #9. So that was it, I was excused and sent home, they told me if something were to happen to one of the jurors in deliberations I might be called to fill their place.
I didn’t get to discuss the case with my fellow jurors, I’d like to think that they also hadn’t seen any actual evidence linking the defendant to the crime. I’d like to think they remembered it’s “innocent until proven guilty”. But, I know that people perceive things very differently and what I saw as Keystone cops they might have thought of brilliant work… you just never know.
I’m glad that I got to serve. Was it inconvenient? sure. But I hope that if I’m unfortunate enough to end up on trial for something (it’ll likely be murder) that people would have an open mind and examine the evidence before deciding my guilt or innocence.
For a while now I’ve had super sensitive sense of smell. I think it’s getting worse… better… more intense maybe is the word I’m looking for here. Sometimes it affects what I’m tasting or maybe it would be easier to say that I can taste things in foods and liquids that others don’t. A few examples are listed below in no particular order.
Mildew on towels (fresh from the dryer or clothes line or hanging on the towel rack for however long)
My cats litter box is on the second floor of the house, I can smell if she’s used it from anywhere on the first floor or when I first get home
friends and strangers have bad breath that I’ve asked others about but they say they didn’t smell anything
perfumes and colognes can be detected strongly from a train car length away or a good block if the wind is blowing properly
something in my house smells like chicken, I can’t find it and I’m not sure what it is but I have lots of scented candles and odor eater things placed about to make the smell less evident
there is a tree near my house that smells horribly like stale beer
I can’t walk in the middle of the prepared foods part near the deli of the grocery store the smells of the foods in the buffet part is well, too smelly
dogs and cats – just touching them and I can smell them on me for hours after and I LIKE dogs and cats
sometimes when I’m sitting or standing next to someone I can detect that they’ve either been wearing the same underwear for a few days or don’t wipe well
there are things that I would have never considered to have a smell at all that have a smell
feet, gas, fish, body odor – none of these things would I consider to smell good anyway, but they seem to overpower my senses
If that’s not disgusting enough for you, some of the taste things include water or tea where I can taste sewage in them (what does sewage taste like? just like what it smells like) and milk starts to go bad to my tongue a week before the expiration date. I can actually taste when food I’m eating has been touched by something that isn’t on my plate – onions, peppers, fish – or maybe the preparers didn’t wash their hands in-between touching the items.
The smell of things can be so intense that I’ll stop walking down the street to avoid scents coming from someone, or move to entirely different cars on the Metro. At meetings I try to distance myself from smells. If someone comes into a restaurant and their perfume or cologne is too strong my meal can end up tasting like what they are wearing. It’s not every scent, it appears to be just some scents and I’m sure there is a pattern I’m missing somewhere. It sounds crazy.
When I smell something so strongly I often look around wondering why none of the people near me seem to notice and ask others if they can smell it – they say no. If you were Superman or Wolverine you’d go crazy being able to smell the things they can smell hell, I’ve been crazy a long time and I know this is driving me crazier. When I talked to my doctor about this he actually suggested I might be turning into a superhero – sniffing out crime… I like my doctor, he’s funny.
Friends have suggested I might be pregnant as they’ve experienced an enhanced sense of smell then, but the condoms have been intact – I know they are only 99.9% effective, but I’m fairly certain I’m not pregnant.
So after my doctor and I talked he talked to colleagues who didn’t know what this was either and then I had an MRI last week. The results of the MRI were normal or “non specific white matter change in some part of the brain, which is normal and doesn’t explain the smell symptoms” – but it does confirm that I actually have a brain in case you were wondering.
So if I offer you a breath mint or a stick of gum – you should really take it, especially if you want me to keep talking to you. If I don’t want to shower at your house or spend the night – it could be that I don’t like people but really it’s probably that your towels smell mildewy or that you have a pet who’s smells overtake all my other senses.
You might see me breathing out of my mouth a lot – yes I’m a mouth breather. I’ll be a mouth breather when I have to be and apparently I have to be a lot right now.
Immediately I notice and am attracted to men with facial hair, but not really long beards or funky sideburns from the 70s. This attraction increases significantly if they have gray hair, it’s always been this way, just something about a man with a gray beard or goatee turns the right knob in my system… heh heh, I said knob.
unless he’s black, it’s the only exception, I love the look of a black man with a hairless chest, i think that’s weird but there you have it. 
