The Sunshine Makers

I have a very good friend that once told me that he was happier unhappy than happy. I know that that wasn't really the truth. He was going through some challenging times and just kind of felt that way, on a temporary basis. I told him that he reminded me of a cartoon that I had watched many times as a child and that the slogan, "I don't want to be happy, I want to be sad", had always stuck with me. I remembered the fight at the end between the happy guys and the sad ones, and little else. I probably hadn't seen it in almost 60 years ( seeing that in print reminds me that I am so fucking old). I checked you tube and what do you know, there it is. Now for your viewing pleasure:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-tZKZiIn1Yg&feature=related

Thanks E for reminding me of this and causing me to find it again.

If You Play Poker You Will Understand The Sentiments Expressed

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch?e=20090222182227485


I have been living this for the last week.

(Ignore the warning about needing IE7 and just wait a couple of seconds and it will play)

Sometimes You Just Have To Vent

Stupid

Inconsiderate

Brainless

Lazy

Dumb

Simpleminded

Slow Witless

Unthinking

Uncaring

Foolish

Arrogant

Egotistical

Pompous

Know it alls

Haughty

Cocky

Careless

Rude

Self-centered

Selfish

Discourteous

Impetuous

Savage

Raw

Bad-mannered

Uncivilized

Graceless

Unappreciative

Barbaric

Wild

Insulting

Crude

Tasteless

Conceited

Boastful

Vain

Self-important

Showy

Dull

Unschooled

Unaware

Backward

Dense

Dim-witted

Witless

Thick

Slow

Moronic




And lest I forget: Dumb Motherfuckers

The Feel Good Video of The Week

I have written before about my propensity for crying. I am not really sure if I responded to what I was thinking about the singer, or whether this was just a further response to the loss of "Pinky"(before you know whether the baby you are expecting is a boy or a girl, you need some way of referring to the baby without calling it "IT". Massiel and I were lying in bed talking about the baby and she referred to it as Pinky and the name stuck. When we thought it was going to be a girl, it was Pinky and when we learned that it was a boy, for sure, the nickname never changed.) Anyway, I found this very moving.

http://entertainment.todaysbigthing.com/2009/04/13?utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=daily

N Family Classics (or, The 10 Best Movies Ever)

In order to qualify as a N family classic a movie must be good enough so that even though you know exactly what is going to happen you can watch it again and again and again. If you have seen it so many times that you have memorized the dialogue, all the better.
Soap Dish
Big
Field of Dreams
Parenthood
Get Shorty
When Harry Met Sally
Second Hand Lion (With an * as Michele has never seen it)
Michael
PulpFiction
The Jerk
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
L.A. Story
The Princess Bride
Annie
Sleepless In Seattle
History of the World, Part I
Lost in America
You've Got Mail
The Producers
Stripes

Meatballs


Same Time Next Year ( I don't remember this movie, at all. I told my daughter that I was


creating this list and she told her mother. Michele told me that this was


Bonnie's suggestion and I vetoed it. Bonnie was at her house and swore


we watched this movie time after time. Even though I probably haven't


seen this movie in 20 years, I vaguely remember it and am including it


with an *)

You Can't Buy Teeth By Mail

I have an older sister and a younger brother and their smiles are so bright and their teeth so perfect that they could be the stars of a tooth paste commercial. I had a childhood friend who's teeth were a horror and I remember that when he had to open his mouth to laugh he used to cover it with his hand. He was embarrassed. I am closer to my friend than I am to my siblings. Not horrible, but not great either. I have had some extensive work done down here and have been very lucky to have found two excellent dentists. They are both more for bridgework than they are for tooth work.
Imagine that you go to a lawyer who shares his offices with his partner, another lawyer who you have never met. Your lawyer's specialty is business law, and several times he mentions that he has never been involved in a criminal trial. He has a secretaryand as far as you can tell she is there primarily to do personal errands or housekeeping. At least whenever you go to see him that is what you notice that she is doing. Now, through a case of mistaken identity, you are accused of a serious crime and you find out about it while you are in his office and he tells his secretary to find out when you can see his partner. She comes back and tells you to come back tomorrow at 10:00A.M. When you arrive the next morning they bring you into the partner's office and the next thing you know the secretary comes in closes the door and starts to ask you about the case. You don't want to offend her, but you are wondering when the partner is going to come in, until you realize, through something she says, that SHE is the partner. Holy Shit. What now? You don't want to offend her, but at the same time your ass is on the line.
Yesterday I was having a problem under a denture that gave me excruciating pain. I went to see my dentist and he did a little work and told me what I should do to help the problem. I showed him another problem that I noticed was starting to develop with one of my front teeth. He said that I would have to make an appointment with the other dentist with whom he shares his office. Every time that I have gone to this dentist he has been assisted by a girl of about 25 or so, who he originally introduced as one of his graduate students. My dentist, Dr. Madera, is a teaching dentist. Every Thursday and Friday he goes to Santo Domingo where he is a professor at a university. He has always shown her everything that he was doing and explained the what and how of it.
I was told to come back at 10:00 and when I arrived I was ushered into the other office, seated, and waited for the other dentist. Of course by now you know who came in. I'm thinking to myself, "Hmmmmm, is this what I wanted? Has she ever done this before? Am I her first live patient?" These doubts were quickly reinforced. She obviously had very little experience with the chair. She kept pressing buttons on the control panel until she finally found the right button to make the back go down. It took 4 or 5 tries, at least. Then it was too far down and it took a while to find the button that made the back go up. Next came the problem with the salive sucker ( I am sure that there is a technical name for this thing but really, what else does it do other than to suck saliva?).Then she seemed to have some doubts about the drill. I'm sitting there thinking whether I should stay, or should I think of some excuse for leaving. After all, this was a front tooth and if she fucked it up, I would spend the rest of my life having to cover my mouth like my friend, Bob. I decided that I trusted Dr. Madera and felt that he wouldn't turn me over to an imcompetent. My faith was justified. Before I looked I asked her, "How did you do?" and she seemed a little surprised by the question. She had her mask off and I could see her smiling as she repeated my question. "I did very well", she said. I checked out her work in a mirror that she handed me and sure enough, she did really well.

The Fantasy:

You're laying on a bed on your back and a veiled woman with beautiful eyes is touching your face. Every so often she suggestively touches you, sometimes gently, sometimes more forcefully with her breasts, but you notice that each time there is gentle contact at the same time in some way the contact is always hard. You look at her eyes and you know what she wants.

The Reality:

Dr. Lora needs to use a softer bra and she's a pretty good dentist.

I Wanted A Son

I realized that when I decided to marry Massiel that since she was young and I was going to be her first husband ( knowing the age difference that is the correct way, first husband, to say it) that she wanted to start a family with me and not wait for husband #2. In spite of my age, I decided that this was a good thing. Maybe I had to sell myself on the idea, but I don't think that it was a tough sell. I have always loved children and kind of welcomed the idea. As I mentioned previously I felt that having a baby around was going to help me to age more slowly. To say stay young doesn't really apply. When you are not young it is very hard to stay young You can stay young of mind and of heart, yes, but young only, no. I was convinced that having a new child would make me want to take better care of myself, not that I abuse myself in anyway these days, but I just knew that I would be more inclined to do positive things, eat better, exercise more, and even work harder, knowing that I had to provide a good future for my new child. When we found out that Massiel was pregnant we were both quite happy. As always happens people, upon finding out that we were expecting, would always ask what I wanted, a boy or a girl. I always gave the politically correct answer, " I don't care, as long as it is healthy". I lied. I knew what a little girl was all about, having raised one of the great ones, and to be honest, the thought of a little boy scared the shit out of me. I really thought that Massiel would be a great mother to either a boy or a girl. Generally speaking, I would think that a boy needs his father more and a girl needs her mother. My daughter is an anomaly. I am the reason that she turned out as she did, although I never did get her to be a Poker player. The idea of having a son kind of frightened me. When we learned from her doctor, through a sonogram that we were going to have a daughter I felt a huge sense of relief as well as joy. Little girls are always cute, they are fun to hang around with and usually gentle. Little boys, on the other hand, are tigers. They are rough and they are tough, especially the little boys that I see here. Massiel was really happy also. I can understand a woman preferring a daughter as their first because not knowing what to expect, at least they feel that they can draw on their own personal experience and childhood. Let me make this more simple. I don't know a whole lot about the menstrual cycle of a woman, other than that it can interfere with my plans and I am sure most women don't know a whole lot about hard ons, other than what to do with them.



As I am writing this, however, I am thinking back on the sexual counseling that I received from my father, so maybe that is not entirely correct. I was probably about 11 or 12 and we lived in a house in Mount Vernon, New York. Our kitchen, which was in the back of the house, and had a door that led out to a good sized patio. My father called me outside one day. I can still remember seeing my sister and mother standing by the sink, which had windows over it, so that they could listen to my father discuss the finer points of sex with me. I remember the talk verbatim:



My father: Is there anything you want to know about sex?

Me: No

My father: OK, if you have any questions, you can ask me.

Me: OK, thanks

That was it.



I should mention at this time that I was lying. My father had some sort of book that had "dirty" cartoons in it that I found in his drawer on one of my "inspection" visits. One cartoon had a stick figure man with the prongs of an outlet cord in the front, chasing a woman with an electrical outlet in the back. I thought, up till I saw this, that "IT" was done facing each other. This had me thoroughly confused, but I never had the nerve to ask. So maybe the sexual instruction part is not that important, but there are lots of things that are better mother to daughter or father to son.

About 5 weeks after finding out that we were having a girl, I went with Massiel for another sonogram. This time the technician told us that it was a boy. I can understand this kind of error. When you don't see a penis you think its a girl and when you do, you think its a boy. It's possible that the penis is in a position where you can't see it, so you think its a girl, but when you do see it, there's no question that its there. Now I had to adjust my thinking and deal with my disappointment. I resigned myself to a son. As time went by I got more and more used to the idea and soon I accepted it completely. I was going to have a little boy. The only special instruction I knew, although Massiel and I were reading the newest version of the Dr. Spock book, was that you had to put a pamper over his penis, so that he didn't pee all over you when you are changing diapers. This didn't seem like a big deal to me.



Massiel had as difficult a pregnancy as you could imagine. She suffered from heartburn, nausea, and gas. She threw up, couldn't eat properly, and all strong smells bothered her. Did I mention the belching? If Massiel would have been in the 6th or 7th grade and was able to belch like that she would have been the most popular kid in her class. You remember the kid that could always rip one off on demand? That was Massiel. She snored. That didn't bother her, but it was killing me. She sounded like a freight train going through a tunnel. I didn't get a good night's sleep for months. Every hour or so Massiel, who is a romantic sleeper who likes to cuddle, would roll toward me and start to snort or snore or something. I don't know exactly what it was, but it woke me every time. I felt badly for her, she was really suffering. At the end of the first three months she started to feel a little better, but that was the best it ever got. She felt better, but she never felt good. When someone would talk to her about the joy of pregnancy, Massiel wondered what they were talking about. As her body grew and stretched she started to have ligament pains. Bonnie had them once, with Michele, and ran to the hospital, screaming in pain. Massiel endured them for weeks. Massiel was a trooper, she never really complained a lot. You knew to look at her that she was uncomfortable, but she kind of quietly endured it.

Then last Thursday she started to have some bad pains in her abdomen. They continued Friday and I insisted that she go to the doctor. Let me vent here. This was her second doctor. She changed because the first one she went to had so many patients he had no idea who he was talking to. He has the reputation of being a very good doctor. He has a lot of patients. Massiel and I came to realize that here in the DR a doctor's reputation is based on the number of patients he has, rather than his ability. In other words, if you ask someone to refer you to a doctor they will say," Go see Dr. Killsemall, he has lots of patients". We got a reference for a new guy. This guy was worse. When Massiel called him on Friday to tell him of her problems, she was bleeding a little and had made a disturbing discovery in the ladies room, he told her (it was 12:30) to meet him in his office at 3:00. He was in no hurry. I told her to check with him at 2:30 to make sure that he didn't forget and he told her that he was eating and he would be there shortly. He showed up at 4:15. He told her that the baby was starting to come out and he was going to induce labor. He sent her for a sonogram and the technician, not her fucking imbecile doctor, the technician recommended that she be allowed to rest, be given a medication that would strengthen the baby's lungs, on the off chance that the baby would stay in for a few more weeks. This cocksucking doctor made absolutely no attempt to do anything save the baby. Nothing. He just gave up.

They followed the technician's suggestion and put her in a room, with an IV and put the suggested medication in it. Massiel's aunt slept with her that night. I was not allowed to stay in the room overnight. Here's why; apparently one or more of our finer citizens (male) discovered that if they slept with their spouse (female) during the night they could roam the halls and assault and rape other patients. I live in a combination Fantasy Land and Bizzaro World.

I didn't sleep well on Friday and I waited a while to call Massiel Saturday morning because I hoped that she was sleeping late (nobody sleeps like Massiel). When I finally did call, Massiel asked me to bring a few things to her, so I went shopping first. I called her from a store to find out exactly which sanitary napkins to buy (there are hundreds of brands and thousands of styles). There was no answer so I rushed to the hospital only to find her room locked. At the nurse's station they told me that she was in surgery. I went down to the second floor and was told that she was still in surgery. About 20 minutes later they told me that she was out and that I could go in. I must mention at this point that I have seen bathrooms in trains stations that are cleaner than the hospitals here. When we had gone to the surgery area the day before, while waiting for a room to open up, they gave her a filthy bed which they then proceeded to cover with a dirtier sheet. Of course, when they allowed me to go into recovery area (the same place they had us waiting the night before for a room) where they put her after the delivery, they made me put on a disgusting hospital gown over my clean clothes, cause them's the rules. Massiel was laying on a gurney, a little drowsy, and told me that after I spoke with her the pains, which were actually contractions, although no one was smart enough to realize that, had started to get stronger and more frequent and some genius finally realized that she was going into labor, which was why they had brought her to surgery. The baby was still born. We were shattered. Our little boy was dead. I cried for a while and then did my best to console Massiel. I believe that nothing was done to try to save the baby. This asshole doctor probably had a tee time that he didn't want to miss.



It is now Sunday, Massiel has come home, and I want my son.