Confession: I Am Grumpy.

I really needed a little extra humor today so I wrote the following...

It was suppose to snow last night. But instead of enjoying a nice day indoors, being lazy and watching TV, winter slapped Abilene with its frozen dandruff that was scratched off of its bitter cold scalp, lightly dusting our streets, sidewalks, and front yards (places that should have been the glorious containment receptacles of the reason why I should have been able to sleep in). After realizing that I had to go to work today, and ruining my plans of world couch domination, I made the decision to sleep late anyway. This decision came in spite of the incessant nagging of the female who was next to me…my clock radio Mrs. Clockington. Mrs. Clockington use to be Miss Clockington but one day I found her on the floor next to a my wristwatch…and …well…it was the respectable thing to do, even though she is much older. I got out of bed at 7:14 and had to be at work by 7:30. The only thing worse than a nagging female “clock” is a nagging female “clock” that is always right.

To make my mood so delightfully better (sarcasm…thickly laid) when I woke up, I had a headache; one of those recurring tards that has manifested behind my right eye. Though my wife has repeatedly assured me that I am a paranoid hypochondriac, I am almost positive that my headache is caused by a benign brain tumor that is also the reason I have been smelling so much blue as of late. I think it is pressing on my auditory nerve causing me to randomly hear people calling my name behind me. Surely it won’t be much longer before there is an MRI app for my iPhone. Then I could wave over my head and finally know…that I am right and my wife is wrong (times infinity). “Wwaoown waoown waoown KAK KAK KAK!” – This is the most accurate sound description of an MRI that has ever been articulated in a blog, and possibly the most accurate ever put into sound words (I could have written for the original Batman – BLAZAMOH!)…prove me wrong I dare you!

My wife says I can be grumpy and while I would like to argue and tell all of the reasons why I am a delightful and happy person who enjoys kettle corn, a friendly bumper pool competition, and soaking up sunshine, she is right…I am grumpy. But I am not the Grinch grumpy or Ebenezer Scrooge grumpy (It is a well known fact that Christmas grumpy is the absolute worse kind of grumpy. People who are Christmas grumpy are also the same people who hate puppies, like the taste of English food, and scream at infants). I just like things a certain way (FOR THE LITTLE SANITY REMAINING IN THE WORLD!, will someone please tell me why Jersey Shore is still on the air?!) and I am most certain that most people (there are a few exceptions) are not as intelligent as me (politicians, people who work for or are involved with the news media, Mrs. Clockington, the list goes on). I am more of a Carl Fredricksen kind of grumpy. All Carl needed was to befriend a chubby Asia kid that stowed away on the front porch of his house that had been converted into a flying contraption due to the attachment of thousands of balloons, fly to a magical land filled with mystical creatures and talking dogs that he and his late wife had always dreamed of visiting, and defeat his childhood hero who seemed to be the same age as Carl even though he was already an adult when Carl was a small child. Carl really warmed up by the end of the movie...I just wanted a little extra snow last night.

The Better Life: Roadside Assistance

I don't know much about cars. When something is going wrong with a car, that I happen to be in the same vicinity of, I will look under the hood, nod my head, agree with the closest male (who is also looking under the hood) and say something in agreement, "Yep, I agree. Definitely the alternator." The only time I am of any help to a stranded motorist is in the unfortunate situation that their battery is dead and they need a jump. In most situations I really don't feel like helping but feel obligated because, of course, no one else ever seems to have jumper cables in their car (I should really take those out). While I can change a tire, and once changed my own brakes (I made about 30 phone calls to my father-in-law that day), I use my expertise of having no expertise as an excuse to drive by people I see having car difficulty on the side of the road.

In all honesty, I don't want to be "that guy," the one that drives by a person in need. I don't want to have have my son or daughter sitting in the car with me while I blatantly ignore someone that I could help. I want to stop and offer to change a tire, give a ride, or jump a battery, with a smile on my face. I want to be better. Tuesday was a better day.

With the winter storm apocalypse covering most of the Eastern United States. Tuesday I found making a fifteen minutes to take my wife to work (half a mile away). After dropping her off at the entrance to the hospital I noticed two men standing outside of a Mazda CX-7 attempting to push it out of a parking space, while their friend manned the drivers seat. While it has already been established that I do not possess much knowledge about cars, I do posses a pair of Timberland boots, and the ability to push (an ability I have honed on many occasions after running out of gas, once while on a date) I quickly (but really it was slowly) found a place to park my car and offered my help. None of the men spoken English, they seemed to be of middle eastern descent, but I managed to give them enough guidance and muscle that they were quickly unstuck and on there way.

I got back in my car and started making my way back home when I came across another motorist in need of assistance. With stoic control, I edged my Mitsubishi Eclipse close to stranded Ford F-150 (no, the make and model irony was not lost on me). I put my car in park, turned on my hazard lights, got out, and told the man behind the driver's seat to ease on the gas and I would try to push him to a spot where he could get traction. Two other men soon showed up to help and after a few minutes the truck was free and I was on my way back to my house.

Over the past week, while taking up residence on Hoth, I have had the opportunity to push a few more cars (for those of you who do not get the Star Wars reference Hoth is a snow planet). It hasn't been a grand gesture of my abundant greatness, it has just been a nice thing to do, and I am better for it.