Emu Education

I’m not sure if it’s my warped perspective or just all the extra time I have on my minds, but sometimes I just have questions that I really have no answers for and I really don’t know who to ask. Soooo…. I just thought I’d throw these out there and maybe somebody knows somebody whose cousin worked for this guy that knows the answer (which is probably similar to how John Kerry decided the answers to his questions). So here is the question that grabbed me today. (This was the second time I was grabbed, but there’s no need to mention my sexual escapades in this post *puffed up chest*)

1. At the pharmacy, and at several others, they sell this product that is similar to like Bengay (no, not recently…BAHAHA), it’s called “Heat Activated Emu Oil Sore Muscle Cream”. So my question is how do they get that Emu Oil? Do they like milk the Emus? Which begs the question, how do you get an Emu to stand still long enough to milk it? Perhaps that’s not the method though. Maybe there’s some kind of Emu Blender and you toss one in the blender and then boil it and the oil comes to the top and you can skim it off. Any ideas?


2. Why exactly do I need Emu Oil in my ‘sore muscle cream’ anyway? I had never really considered Emus to be especially useful animals, so who was it exactly that discovered that Emu Oil helps sore muscles? I mean really, how random is that? Maybe someone was doing the artificial insemination (like with cows?) and while his/her arm was up there, he or she was like,

“Wow! Hey Ed. Come here a minute. You know how I had been talking about going to the doctor for my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome? Well I swear it don’t feel just about 100% better now! So tingly and soothing. Hey, hand me that (either milk pail or blender) we’re gonna be rich!”

Just lemme know if you can offer suggestions! Thanks!

A Tribute and Some Tears

It's about 7:40am. Today just didn't taste right from the very start. Of course I knew it wouldn't. I went to bed with that sad taste already in my mouth. You know, when you can feel the clouds in the back of your head but you push them aside for the time being, but know that they will bring the rain. Well even though it's bright and clear outside, my heart is raining.

Today he would have been 24. The day when he could always brag that he was now 2 years older than me. The day when we'd put those silly cone birthday hats on, and shake all his presents to figure out what he'd (we'd) be getting. Lassie and Nipper or both would also be forced to don the hats and for a brief time they'd be allowed inside.

There will be no party today. There will be a absence at the table. There is a hole, an emptiness that will not be filled. If you are reading this today, please take this minute and say a prayer for Aunt Mary, Uncle John, Sussanah, and the rest of our family. I promise, they will be needed.

I wrote this in the days following the news that he had passed on. I had struggled whether I should share it with anyone but family. I decided that this would be my tribute, my way of giving special notice to this day. Maybe they have the internet in Heaven, and if they do I hope you know that I'm thinking about you. That I'm missing you. That I still get that sharp pain every now and then. I love you, and I'll see you soon, but not soon enough.
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For Wesley John Sides IV

**11/18/81 -- 3/05**

We were Mustang wild and Carolina crazy,
Tearing down a backwoods trail with six guns blazing.
Ten feet up in a chestnut tree,
We dreamed about all the things we’d be.
We were astronauts and real crime fighters,
With three cherry bombs and an old Bic lighter.
We hated girls, but we didn’t know why,
And even the biggest scrape couldn’t make us cry.
I wish I had some of that courage now, cause I’m not feeling very brave.
This time the cut’s much deeper and I can’t find a smile to save.

But if they’ve got horsepower in heaven,
I bet you’re spinning tires on the streets of gold.
And if they’ve got any good creeks up there,
Then save me a spot beside the best fishing hole.
Wait for me in arms of angels; I’ll be there as soon as I can.
I’ve got some more work to do; now I’ve got to be twice the man.

We were race car drivers except ours had three wheels.
We took daddy’s Buick and wound up in one of Mamaw’s fields.
You just never listened to the rules we were told,
They said you had a wild streak but I saw a heart of gold.
We’d ignore about half of what our parents said,
But at Bible School you still said sorry and bowed your head.
I can still taste Cheese-Puffs and Kool-Aid,
And a thousand other memories that we made.
I still hear the hymns we sang side by side on Sunday night.
And you know I’d still be beside you no matter how big the fight.
Been through thick and thin, thought it would always be that way.
This time I’m facing it alone, wondering why you couldn’t stay.

I know there’s no tears in heaven, but we shed our share that day.
The air was bitter cold, spitting snowflakes from a sky of dark gray.
This was not how I wanted to say my last goodbye,
Bent over a wooden box, just trying not to cry.
Picked a piece of fuzz off my jacket that you were wearing,
Tried to procure some peace from this last moment we’re sharing.
I promised to look after the ones you’ve left,
Who’ve lost so much to death’s cruel theft.
A weeping father, one brave sister, and a loving mother,
And I thought of how I’m losing my only brother.

The headlights lined up and crept out a little after five:
The hardest 6 miles I’ve ever had to drive.
Past that winding driveway where we lost our training wheels,
Past the shop where we shaved our heads to see how it would feel.
Past the station where we’d get jerky and a Mountain Dew.
Past the creek we’d fish until daylight was through.



Silently it ended beneath the last hill we’ll climb together,
The wind was icy and raw, ready to clamp down and close this chapter forever.
But as I stood staring tearfully over the trees, I suddenly felt bolder,
I thought that I felt two strong arms and a full head of red on my shoulder.
I smiled just a little and thought about that wind,
How surely one day surely it will bring us together again.

The Return to Raleigh (Part 1)

Welcome to the weekend. You’ve worked all week, doing the 9 to 5 so you can still participate in the game of Life. Now you’ve earned yourself two days to do as you want.

I can’t think of a more sadistic way to spend it than taking those 48 hours and devoting 8 hours to driving interstate 40, 18 hours to LSAT classes which last from 8am-9am, and about 12 hours to sleeping. Take away about 4 hours to eat the 6 meals for the two days, and I wind up with about 6 hours to get the rest, relaxation, and recharge needed for the next week…Yay for weekends.

Am getting to see the old Raleigh Folks. And Raleigh Folks if you’re reading this call me!!! 828-208-7717! My old cell phone broke and I didn’t get most of my numbers copied to my new phone. So don’t get mad if I haven’t called you.

It’s really weird being back here, that’s for sure. This is the first time I’ve been back in a long time. A lot of things have changed since then. Drastically changed. Yet the places look the same. The must be what the Stars think when they come out at night. Wow, the land looks the same, but what the F*** happened to that guy.

You know that song that we used to sing as kids? “God’s still working on me, to make me who I oughta be…” I guess periods in time like this is when you’ve built something onto your life that wasn’t in His plan of how it should shape out, so He gets the chisel out and breaks you back down to where you need to be. Well I really wish He’d finish, cause it’s hurting. A lot.

Well The Indian has requested more information about the two dates from last week…so here is a synopsis. I hope it doesn’t offend A or B.

Girl A:
Miles traveled: 106 miles.
Money Spent: $48 on food, $11 on parting gift, estimated $8 in gas = $67
Result: Planned on meeting in 4 doors. Called her cell phone, dorm phone, IM’ed, and E-mailed to inquire as to when/where….Recieved an email reply approximately 4 days after the suggested/planned/whatever meeting.
Conclusion: Yeah, probably not gonna work. Apparently she is not interested in dating me. That being just about the only criteria needed to be filled in order for me to date, we have a miserable failure.

Girl B:
Miles Traveled: 136
Money Spent: $54 on food, $2 on cute ‘hello’ present, $9.31 in gas = $65.31
Result: Good meeting, good conversation, then I spilt my glass of ice water on my pants, freaked her out by showing her the guns I was working on (see previous post), and the evening ended with one of those one-armed half-hugs that kind of says “I realize that I’m obligated to make physical contact to complete this transaction of your time and your money for my enjoyment, but the more awkward and less actual touching that it involves the more I solidify the point that the awkward silences, blank stares, and continual typing on my cellphone have been trying to tell you for quite some time.”
Conclusion: *Beep beep* You have 1 New Message: You Lose. Or as she so succinctly put it, “You’re a really great guy. You’re so sweet. I just don’t ever see us being more than friends.” Upon consulting Webster’s Let-You-Down Dictionary, I have translated the message to this, “I can tell that a lot of people probably think you are a great guy, I’m just not seeing it for myself. You seem sweet, in a kind of “awww, look at that Mama Bird regurgitating into its baby’s mouth. Isn’t that sweet?” way. I just don’t look for that in a date. I just don’t ever see me being in a place where I would have low enough standards to need you around.”

So there you go Ben. I have bared my soul to cyberspace. I’ve dropped trousers on my heart. All in all, it was two dates that I spent too much money on and felt like I had not accomplished anything for myself or for either of the girls. It probably took me a step back actually. Getting your hopes up for something, inevitably leads to disappointment, and I understand that. But getting your hopes up for something that other people just take completely for granted and having to pay to lose, is real disappointment.

Not quite sure what I’m doing now. I’m done chasing, that’s for sure. If one happens to run me off the road somewhere between work, my house, and the video store, then by all means I might give it another try. If one were to offer some encouragement with some real evidence behind it, then maybe I’d build up enough Hope capital to be proactive again. But my Hope meter is laying dead on the red F. I don’t really even care anymore…yeah I know I’m lying. I’m trying to sound callous and macho. Just play along.

Goodnight

Update on Hal's current status

Well I guess it’s been a while since I checked in, so for all of you who were just dying to know what I’m up to but forgot my phone number, here yah go!

Still working about 30-35 hours a week at the pharmacy, studying for LSAT, and selling stuff on Ebay. I guess the only new time killer has been two wildly unsuccessful dates, and some gun restoration. Since the former was entirely unproductive (barring the possibility of a producer making a romantic comedy/ horror film), I’ll only elaborate on the latter.

It started with an old gun of my uncle’s that he left at my grandmother’s house. I could always remember it sitting in the cousin of the closet when I was growing up. Wes and I would sneak in and look at it, completely in awe of this obviously forbidden fruit to 7 year olds. The stock was beat up and the barrel had several deep rust spots, and I thought I’d see what I could do with it. I start with disassembling the gun, which can be quite complicated. I’ve done about 7-8 now, and I’ve only had one that I couldn’t get back together but neither could Chris McIntosh so I didn’t feel so bad. That was a 45$ mistake, but I’ve gotten better. Then I start with 80 grit sandpaper, then 100, then 150, then 220, the 350, the 440, then OOO Steel Wool. Then I put somewhere between 1 and 3 coats of Walnut stain, depending on what wood the stock is and what color I’m going for. That has to dry 24hrs, then it’s time for the Tru-Oil which is basically an expensive lacquer that seals the wood and eventually gives it a nice shine and glossy look. If you like that, you leave it there. If you like the more matte finish you follow up with Stock Conditioner. It’s really a lot of fun…well maybe not FUN, but definitely more fun than going on a date and dumping a glass of ice water on your pants on a first (and last) date.

My cousin Jennifer and I have been hanging out a lot recently. She’s a really great girl who’s had an extremely tough run of bad luck. It’s been nice to get to know her better and to have someone to complain and share with. We seem to have obtained a similar disillusionment with ‘love’ so it’s comforting to have a friend who knows where I’m coming from. Seriously, it’s all one big F’ing game and, for me at least, it’s not worth it. Some people are a lot better at the game, and I don’t hold that against them. Congratulations. I’m not. Miserable failure, and I’m tired of getting hurt, so I’m out man, just out. Now, if I can convince my heart to do it to. I’m such a hopeless romantic, I just really enjoy having someone and treating them like a princess…it’s just been a lot more hopeless than it has been romantic. So I guess I’m just going to just use my time to concentrate on the more substantial things that are going on. Which brings me to the biggest news…

I met the opponent of the sheriff in Mitchell county this week and I couldn’t be more excited. When I was so heavily involved in College Republicans (those of you who really know me, know how much I was), I really just put it all out there and completely burned myself out on the whole subject of politics. You can only endure being called a “nazi”, “racist”, “bigot”, “Warmonger”, etc for so long, even if you do know that the cause you’re fighting for is just. But meeting this guy, Victor Hollifield, has completely reignited that passion. For those of you who know about Wes’s death, you probably know how I felt about the ‘authorities’ who handled the investigation. Blatantly incompetent. The more I learned, the more upset and angry I got. I finally came to the conclusion that despite how helpless that the family felt, that this was one area where I could pursue justice and make sure that the idiot wasn’t re-elected. If I make a promise, I WILL follow through on it. Standing beside Wes’s grave I swore that I would do everything in my power physically, mentally, and financially to ensure the sheriff’s defeat. I would have supported a pile of rocks over this overgrown ape, or even worse I would have supported a Democrat. However, it just so happens that the opponent is a really great guy! He’s had experience in the DEA, ATF, attended several training sessions on drugs, and is currently the chief patrol officer for Mack-Dowell County. The incumbent has experience smelling burnt flesh (Maybe you’ve heard of the Bakersville jail fire where 7 inmates where burnt alive when the jail which did not have sprinklers and only had one key for all the locks caught fire), a lot of sleeping, and hiring pedophiles.
I’m already gearing up for the fight and I couldn’t be more ready. Like I said, ANYTHING that needs to be done will be. I don’t take my promises lightly and I certainly don’t take graveside oaths lightly.

If you wanna know more than that, I’ll just remind you: 828-208-7717. Hope you all had a great weekend!