06.29.09
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:48 am by wmrj
So, I was taking a one mile hike to pick up my car from the mechanic the other day. Apparently cars need routine maintenance and they get very upset when you don’t do stuff like change the oil or give them gas. Well, you learn something new everyday. Now, I could have called a friend to have driven me, but I’ve always tried to be independent. If I can do it on my own, then that’s what I do. Also, I thought it be a good opportunity to get some exercise. You know, get the blood pumping and the sweat pouring so that maybe I’d fit into the super-sized trunks I bought by the end of the summer. Hey, I have goals. Anyway, I had my earphones on and was in my own world enjoying the music when the unthinkable happened. I was involved in a drive-by.
They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you’re involved in potentially deadly situations. I can confirm that this wasn’t the case when a red SUV passed me at about 40 miles an hour and pelted me with a water balloon and kept going. No harps began to play sad music as a montage of fragments of my life came and went. And I didn’t see God, Jesus, or the Pearly Gates. Instead, there was the initial shock of it all, then the embarrassment, then confusion, and then the feeling of water—or what I hope was water—running down my leg.
At the time, I didn’t know whether to laugh or be upset. Fortunately, I was just picking up my car and wasn’t on my way to do something important where it wouldn’t be in my best interest to look like I’d wet-wet on myself. I mean, how would I have explained that on a job interview? And would they have believed me if I told the truth? Actually, if I were on my way to an interview, I could have said, “You see how dedicated I was to being here? I didn’t even stop to use the restroom?” Oh, and did I mention how badly it hurts to be hit with a water balloon hurled at you from a moving car? I’m sure the impact was nothing in comparison to the atomic bomb or anything, but it did leave a bruise which will probably make me loose my modeling contract with Flaws-R-Us.
After making sure that my cell phone had not gotten wet, I decided not to be upset. It really wasn’t worth the energy. By the time I awakened from the stress induced coma, the car was long gone so there was no one to shake a fist at—or a select finger—and I just would have looked dumb if I started yelling “Why?” in slow motion like they do in the movies. Instead, I counted my blessings that it was just a water balloon and not a glass bottle, or a rock, or a tarantula for that matter. In fact, I began to feel presidential as I wondered if what I felt was anything like what President Bush felt when that guy flung shoes at him. Fortunately, in my case, the assault with a deadly balloon wasn’t replayed over and over on CNN and YouTube—at least not yet. When Barbara Walters comes calling, I will say, “No comment.”
The incident reminded me of how sometimes life literally tosses things your way and you just have to adjust. Sure, I’d rather the assailant had thrown something more useful like a sausage biscuit, pair of Nautica jeans, or a wad of cash, but they didn’t. As opposed to letting it ruin my day, I stopped waving to all the cars and yelling out “Jesus loves you” as they passed by and kept it moving. In fact, I stayed as far away from the cars as I could and used a twig, a Sprite can, and three blades of grass to build a shield to protect myself from any future assaults. Once I got home, I used that shield to make an awesome pair of pants and a matching hat. Hey, it’s a recession. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. Don’t judge me!
As I move forward with life after being involved in a drive-by, I will continue to keep my head up no matter what life hurls at me. I will also continue to find the humor in every day events because it is my belief that this simple act will help keep me sane—or so my shrink says. Imagine how stress free the world would be if we smiled instead of cursing someone out because they cut us off on the highway or took the last biscuit at the buffet. In those instances, you just have to wonder what the most powerful being in the universe would do. As a matter of fact, I’m going to send Oprah and email right now to ask her.
Permalink
06.22.09
Posted in Uncategorized at 1:51 pm by wmrj
Having a blog is like having your own reality show, except you get to do the editing yourself. Fortunately, you don’t see what I look like when I wake up in the morning, and you don’t have to experience the after effects of me eating something that doesn’t agree with me. Come on, we’re all friends here. You can tell me if you have disagreeable bowels. If we can’t talk about that, then what can we talk about. And if you think about it, you having irritable bowels is what’s helping keep all those wonderful people at Charmin and Scott employed. You have to at least be able to see the benefits in that. But I digress.
It was just a few weeks ago when I came up with the idea of having this blog and I’m excited about how much it’s grown. Believe it or not, there’s a huge demand from my one reader for me to continue adding installments—which also could be called episodes—on a regular basis. In a sense, it’s kinda like a job. If I don’t perform well, my reader may toss me out on my keister and get a new Michael Rochelle to replace me, and we wouldn’t want that would me? So here it goes.
Every now and then, I try to impart a few pearls of wisdom to those around me. This is one of those times. Maybe I’m getting older—actually, I’m almost certain that I’m getting older—but I’m beginning to look at life a little differently than I did when I was young … uh, younger. As some of you may know, this will be a big year for me. I’ll graduate from college, finish my book, and reach one of the few age milestones I have left. Though I won’t confirm or deny any allegations regarding my alleged age, let’s just say that I foresee discount coffees in my very near future. But anyway, I’ve done a lot of thinking about my past and where I’d like to go moving forward, and as scary as it is to delve into the next chapter of my life, it’s just as exciting.
Before I divulge this revelation, I’m going to need you to come a little closer to the screen so I can whisper. Closer. Just a little closer. There are some nosey people in the world and this is just between you and me. Ok, can you hear me now? Good. The truth is, I’m not perfect. I know it comes as a shock, but I am flawed. I don’t have it all figured out. I make mistakes. I trip. I stumble. I fall down and sometimes I lie there for a second before I brush myself off and get up. Sometimes this is because my back or my knee has given out, which comes with age, but sometimes it’s because I’m human, and as a human, I’m fallible.
I wish I could say that I had all the answers, but I don’t. Career wise, there is this big question mark as to whether I should continue the accounting path or step out on faith into a writing related field once I graduate in December/January. School wise, I want to move on to a graduate degree, but I’m unsure as to whether to continue the writing path, which is in my heart, or to do the smart thing and move on to something more business related in case the writing thing doesn’t pan out. And with love, or the lack thereof, I’m tired of seeing myself make the same mistakes over and over again. And even if they aren’t exactly the same mistakes, why am I overlooking all the signs—and sometimes the tattoos—that spell things out clearly when the person doesn’t see the beauty in all that is Michael Rochelle … cause I’m special damnit!!!
Although I know I won’t be able to find a quick and easy answer to the meaning of life overnight, I know there are some things that I can do to make myself an overall better person. Ok, since we’re friends, let’s all promise to not get stagnant, to keep on progressing, and to make wise choices. Let’s look challenges in the face, hold our heads high, and laugh as we tackle each and every one of them. However, if the challenge is your spouse, manager, professor, parents, or slumlord, you may want to alter the laughter part until you’re safely at least two states away so they won’t catch wind of your gloating.
Seriously though, since we’re right in the middle of 2009, why not make the latter half better than the first? Even if you had a horrible day yesterday, tomorrow is a new one, right? We are people of value and potential to do and be whatever we want. The sky is no longer the limit. Instead, the limits are set within our own minds. No matter what other people see in you, it’s about how you see yourself that’s important. That being said, let’s free ourselves from the bondage that has been self imposed and bestowed upon us by others. I believe we can all do this. I know I have your support and you, my one reader, have mine.
Here’s to bigger and better things moving forward!!!
Permalink
06.08.09
Posted in Uncategorized at 2:14 pm by wmrj
Now that the weather is warming up, it appears people’s hearts are too. Relationship statuses have been changing left and right. Over the past week or so, I’ve had one friend get engaged, and another to stop calling her situation a “situation” and is now proclaiming to the world that she is in love. And though I usually am against having relationships with lesser beings, I have one friend who is sure that he and his ferret are meant to be together. Personally, I’m happy for them. It’s 2009. Who am I to judge? Maybe there’s really nothing wrong with a little bit of ferret lovin’.
It’s funny when friends share their new relationship statuses because then the tables inevitably turn and they wonder how things are going for me in the love department. Well, last I checked, the CEO of Wal-Mart explained that there is no such thing as a love department and requested that I stop calling. And we all know, if you can’t find it at Wal-Mart, you won’t find it anywhere. Thus, I had voted love off the island until further notice. Despite this, I am truly excited to share that I may have found my soul mate in the least likely of places.
I was minding my own business, trying to purchase an iced coffee and a sour cream donut at my local 7-Eleven. Of course, because it was me, the iced coffee machine was out of mix and needed to be refilled. The ironic thing is that there could be 30 thousand people in front of me getting iced coffees, but when it’s my turn, suddenly the machine decides to take a smoke break or turn in its two-week notice. Anyway, once I found the one employee in the whole store who knew how to get the machine back up and running (did I mention that I know how to do it and offered to do it myself?), I headed over to the register and prayed that some unseen force would ensure that my $2.50 purchase would go through on my debit card. Hey, it’s a recession. Don’t judge me!
Right in the middle of my prayer, and before I got to the part where I had to vow to spend the next few Sundays in church and feed the homeless on my lunch breaks, I noticed a set of eyes sizing me up. In my opinion, it was an off day for me in the looks department—and I have confirmed with Wal-Mart that there IS, in fact, a looks department. That day I didn’t really put any effort in to my appearance. At the most, I’d probably only spent about two hours picking out my outfit, ironing, showering, shaving, etc. Thus, I immediately began to feel self-conscious. I blew into my hand and did a breath test. Although I didn’t pass with flying colors, it was tolerable. I then smoothed down my mustache, tried to tame my eyebrows, and strolled over to the door where the love of my life was waiting patiently on the other side. It was one of those moments in the movies where everything happens in slow motion. However, although I was moving slowly, everyone else was moving at normal speed. This caused me to get a few dirty looks and someone yelled out something about me being crazy, but they were just jealous that I’d finally happened upon the love of my life—a ducky.
I have never believed in love at first sight. But when I looked into those little eyes, I just knew that that moment, right there at the 7-Eleven, was what this life was all about. Everything I’d ever done, the joys, disappointments, and tears, were all just preparing me for when I’d meet the duck of my dreams. She (I checked) moved out of the way as I opened the door. I thanked her for being so hospitable. I looked at her longingly and expected her to take flight just like the other loves that had come and gone over the years. Instead, she followed me to my car.
I explained to her that I’d been hurt before and that I wasn’t sure if I had anything left to give. I was damaged. And if I were an article of clothing, I’d most certainly be a clearance item in the bargain bin at a thrift store. She looked at me reassuringly and my fears just melted away. I knew what I had to do. I didn’t care who saw us. And I was no longer concerned that I was 7 hours late for work and would make it there just in time to punch out and go home. For that moment, I’d forgotten about the nickels worth of gas in my tank. All I wanted and needed was to love and be loved by Ducky Jenkins-Smith—that’s her name.
I sat on the curb beside her. We shared my donut. I told Ducky about my hopes and dreams, and she told me that the weather could be a real bummer when you live outside all your life. My heart went out to her. She said she didn’t understand why humans always wanted to go to the pool. “Being wet all the time is overrated,” she said. We both took a bite from the donut. And for the record, I was a complete gentleman. I did not ask to take her home.
After a few moments, she suggested that I go in to work. She’d had her fill of donut and she didn’t want me to get fired. I told her that if I did, I’d send her the bill—get it, bill. After a few moments of silence, I said, “I don’t want to leave you. You don’t have to live like this.” But we both knew it was the way it had to be. Though we loved each other more than mere words could begin to explain, we had different lives and timing was not in our favor because she was expecting a litter of puppies any day now. We parted ways with the promise that one day we’d reunite somehow, someway. I miss her already.
Ducky, if you’re reading this somewhere out there, I love you. And no matter what you go through in life, Big Daddy—she liked to call me that—will always be here for you. I’m always just one quack away. In the words of Michael Jackson, “Just quack my name, and I’ll be there.”
Hugs and Kisses,
Michael
Permalink
