Everyone Loves Me

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I’m a man on a mission. My sanity depends on my success. Failure is not an option. I’m on a mission to help La Flor discover her rightful place in the alt ego universe. If she finds it, her two puppies, Little Carmen and TT will follow her. I will be out of rough waters. I’ll have crossed the bridge. I’ll have parachuted and landed safely. I know I’m mixing metaphors faster than a Ninja blender makes my smoothie; if it makes you nervous, try it, it’s soothing as a mountain stream. Thought I’d toss in a simile.

La Flor and I sat across from each other at the table sipping coffee. I made my own. Little Carmen and TT, her two puppies, did a Starbucks run because La Flor wanted a specialty drink, a caramel macchiato. Little Carmen and TT also sat at the kitchen table across from each other. Little Carmen fixated on his dripping biscotti dunked into a cup holding four shots of espresso. TT sipped a chai latte. They promised not to speak while La Flor and I talked.

“Excuses me,” said Little Carmen holding his biscotti over the top of TT’s chai latte and watching the slow drip, drip, drip of espresso into TT’s drink.

“You promised not to talk,” I said.

“Use didn’t start. I recollected use said, once I starts to speech, no interpreters. Am I right? Besides, I wants to give use a heads up. TT will soon have the bee hives because he is allergics to espresso. Right, TT?”

TT scratched his arm and the back of his neck, then nodded.

I need an interpreter to decipher what Little Carmen said. I said, “Don’t pick on TT. What do you want?”

“It makes TT feels like he is one of us, which he is as long at the beautiful, tough, and edgy woman agrees. Now, use asks what I wants? Nothing. I was seeing if use started,” said Little Carmen. Then he put out his fist to TT for a fist bump. TT initially winced thinking Little Carmen was going to hit him.

I mouthed the words, ‘fist bump’ to him. TT stuck out his skinny forearm with what appeared to be a ball peen hammer at the end. The sledgehammer bumped the ball peen hammer and almost knocked TT over.

“La Flor, what you want to do with your life,” I said.

“Oh, finally getting to me after a bunch of paragraphs. I’m not important enough to start off the blog? And, may I add, only write about me? She said with an edge to her voice.

Little Carmen sensed her hostility the way a German shepherd senses a stranger is within a hundred yards of his home. His ears perked up. The hairs hanging out his large nose shot straight out. He began taking deep breaths and exhaled slowly.

“La Flor say something before I pass out,” I said.

She glanced at Little Carmen, “Easy big fellow. It’s okay. When you breathe, put your hand over your mouth and nose.”

Little Carmen’s ears dropped a notch, his nostril hairs retracted, and he placed his hand over his nose and mouth, thus deflecting his garlic breath.

“Let’s start La Flor, what are your strengths?” This was a good a place as any to start I mistakenly thought.

“Well, I am beautiful. Everyone loves me. Most of the girls are jealous of me. I set the fashion trends. I’m also smart, tough, and edgy. Did I mention, I don’t have an equal?”

“It looks like you qualify for anything you want to be,” I said realizing my mistake thinking an interaction with La Flor was to be meaningful.

“I need to go shopping, let’s get this done, close the chapter, cut to the chase, get out of here, I’m getting the willies cooped up in the slammer,” she said reaching into her handbag and pulling out an emery board and began working on her nails.

I’m usually good on my feet. I can go with the flow. Jump hoops. Wing it. I wondered if I should title this blog Mixing Metaphors.

“Tell me what you want to do with your life besides shop, be adored, have people cater to your every whim,” I said.

“Is there something else to life?” she asked sincerely, then worked on her cuticles.

I looked at Little Carmen, he shrugged. I looked at TT, he shrugged.

La Flor said, “I’m bored, Ray. Can we talk tomorrow? Boy’s tag along with me while I show off my new edgy look at the high-end stores and then we’ll scoot on over to Dino’s Vino. Dino always comps me with his best wine.”

“Yes, princes,” I muttered under my breath.

 

Life Is Difficult – Shake It Off

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M. Scott Peck wrote, “Life is difficult.” At times, one might wish life were only difficult with the burdens it places upon us. It often feels much worse. No one is immune from life’s challenges. When life’s challenges shake us to the core, our DNA waits for the green light to push the resilience button. The bounce back button. The shake it off, get up, and get going button. The following YouTube video will inspire you to push your resilience button.

They Can’t Make Me Wait

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At first, I started this blog, alone. Then I had the idea to create an alt ego, La Flor. She’d be someone to bounce ideas off, stimulate thinking, and enter into intelligent conversations. Wrong. Wrong. And, wrong.  I had another great idea, get La Flor a boyfriend. Enter Little Carmen, now there are three of us. Little Carmen stays until La Flor kicks him out, and then he returns when he grovels to La Flor. There are three of us until Thompson Thomas, Dr. Phil’s alt ego. He’s now TT because two last names as names are confusing.

The four of us are waiting to be seated at a popular San Antonio Mexican restaurant.

“Ray, use your pull, I don’t like to be kept waiting,” said La Flor, speaking while reading texts, viewing Instagram, checking out her Facebook page, and deleting photos on her smartphone that are not of her.

“I don’t have pull or push here,” I said thinking I made a clever joke. No one laughed.

La Flor glanced up from her smartphone, “Then let’s leave. We’ll teach them a lesson they can’t make me wait.” She turned to Little Carmen and TT and added, “Do you agree, LC and TT?” she expected the rapidly submissive and boot licking, ‘Yes, beautiful, tough, and edgy response.’

TT watched Little Carmen for his cue. LC looked at TT for his cue because he wasn’t listening to La Flor he was staring at the hot alt ego woman at the bar who was drinking a margarita and munching on chips. He had a headache from the continued placement of his eyes in the corners of his eye sockets.

“Well, LC,” La Flor demanded.

Little Carmen who, played cards with a deck of fifty-one. He was always a couple of bagels short of a dozen. And, he lit up like a twenty-watt bulb when a hundred watt bulb was needed. He said, “I thinks we gots to stay because the margaritas are hot.”

La Flor turned toward Little Carmen, giving him a full frontal. “Look at me, LC.”

“I am beautiful, tough, and edgy,” said Little Carmen whose face lined up with La Flor’s face with one exception. His eyes were still stuck in the corners of his eye sockets.

“Eye contact or you’ll be singing in the choir with TT,” said La Flor.

Little Carmen’s eyes shot to the front faster than the speed of light. “Is this better?”

“Those are not real,” said La Flor.

Little Carmen had a confused look on his face, “My eyes? Honest, they’re the only ones I have,” he said sincerely, yet one of the worst male moves I’ve ever seen.

I needed to change the subject because it was getting ugly, fast. “I checked, we’re next.”

“Please change our table preference to three,” said La Flor.

“Where’s TT gonna sit,” said Little Carmen.

“Right between Ray and me,” La Flor said.

I whispered to TT, “You got to think about buying a cup. It will be for your own good.”

TT turned his head to me, “From Starbucks?” he asked.

Where do these alt egos come from? Who is creating them? Why are they attracted to my blog? Vexing questions.

If La Flor hadn’t grabbed hold of TT’s arm, he may have fallen to the floor. I was certain he passed out. But, I was wrong, he was doing a poor job of faking he passed out because he kept peeking through narrow slits in his eyelids.

TT who never dated a hot woman, or a woman who was not hot, said, “He can sit on my lap if that helps us all solve the problem.”

TT will quickly learn he can’t please two masters.

Little Carmen pleading nolo contendere said, “I knows whats I was doing, but I wasn’t doing it. May eyes explain (yes, that is the way he said I’s, which baffles me either way).

“You have two strikes LC. Do you know what the third strike means? It’s the death penalty.”

“Not the death penalty. Please, please, please beautiful, tough, and edgy, not the depth penalty (yes, he said depth instead of death). I’ll do anything use wants me to do.”

“I’ll make a list, it starts with a foot massage tonight,” said La Flor.

Out of curiosity, I interjected, “Death penalty, can I have a bit of clarification?” I asked. I glanced at TT who was still jumping around. I pointed to a sign that read “El Bano.” He shrugged. The boy needs to pick up a few Spanish words around here.

“Oh, Ray. You are so knave (I think she meant to say naïve, but then again?).”

“How so?” I asked.

“I will take LC off speed dial. He’ll get lumped with you and everyone else.”

“I’m not on speed dial?” I asked incredulously.

“You were on speed dial, but you got bumped by TT.”

“TT?”

“You don’t suck up to me like TT does, Ray. That’s your problem. TT is really good at sucking up. Right, TT.”

“Yes, beautiful, tough, and edgy,” he squeaked while dancing on one foot.

I thought he hit high C.

 

 

 

Our Place In The Cosmos

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There are times when we may think we are the center of the universe. We place an enormous sense of importance in our work and words. Every once in a while it is good to have a healthy dose of humility. This YouTube video produced by IBM is a lesson in human perspective and our place in this wonderful Cosmos.

We Belong On TV

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La Flor, who’s on again with Little Carmen, had the stray puppy follow her throughout one of San Antonio’s outdoor mecca shopping malls. Little Carmen had to enthusiastically like everything La Flor liked. He was the designated bag carrier. And, according to her set of ground rules he signed, he can’t complain. He only can flirt with her.

As for me, I found an Italian trattoria, had a very tasty leisurely lunch, and after lunch, I did this and that, which I will not divulge because La Flor reads these blogs and counts the number of times she is mentioned. If I divulge this and that, she will know this and that and I will have no getaway places. If La Flor does not have the highest name mentioned count, all hell breaks loose, the bleep hits the fan, and the familiar saying, ‘You haven’t heard the last of this’ is repeatedly repeated.

I returned home around three thirty. I walked into the living room and froze. I wasn’t ready for what I saw. La Flor and Little Carmen sat in swivel chairs, about a foot and half apart. That’s not what stopped me.

They are staring at a camera on a tripod. Operating the camera is Thompson Thomas. He’s the Dr. Phil alt ego who looks like a pencil, receding hairline, has a high-pitched voice. It wasn’t always high pitched. It started sometime after Little Carmen found out he was gaga over La Flor. Little Carmen persuaded him, after a bit of twisting and turning and his voice rising with each twist to let go of his fixation on La Flor. I found this unusual, but not out of the ordinary as far as La Flor is concerned.

I looked at La Flor, frozen in my tracks and said, “What are you doing in a sports bra and bikini bottom? Do you have a sand volleyball game in your future? And, what is Little Carmen doing bare-chested in a bathing suit next to you? He looks like a wooly mammoth.”

“Is that a good look?” asked Little Carmen.

La Flor nodded her head, and said, “We are so adorable and cute, right, Ray?”

“Remember, this is a family blog,” I said.

“We belong on TV. I have a new career and LC is going to the top with me.”

“That’s right, Ray-mo. The beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster said, I’m a hanger-goner.”

“Sportscaster? Hanger-goner?”

“You called Little Carmen a hanger-goner?”

“That’s right, Ray. I have high standards. He misses making one compliment to me, he’s a goner.”

“I got to agree with the beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster. How’d I do?”

“Perfecto, LC.”

“I gots to learn, Spanish,” said Little Carmen.

“How many TV sportscasters look as good as LC and me? Don’t answer. The answer is obvious. Zero, zero, zero,” La Flor said, making a zero with the thumb and forefinger of each hand, then looking at Little Carmen until he made the third zero.

“How is this going to happen? How will you be discovered?” I said.

“We will be discovered. TT is filming our demo. He’s going to send it to all his contacts. Dr. Phil for one. Dr. Oz for two. And, he knows Bobby Filet. He quit Dr. Phil to work exclusively with us.”

“I think it’s Bobby Flay.”

“No, it’s Filet,” she said.

“I turned to TT, “You did?”

“Uh huh. La Flor promised to set me up with one of her hot girlfriends. She only has hot girlfriends.”

“Let it go, Ray. TT you ready to record our demo?” said La Flor.

“Yes, beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster,” said the soprano voiced TT.

“TT not to worry about the voice, it returns to normal in a day or three,” said Little Carmen.

“Thanks, LC. Ready, three, two, one, action,” squeaked TT.

“Welcome to the world’s hottest and cutest sportscasters,” said La Flor.

“Yah, welcome. Check out how beautiful the beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster looks today. Can I say you looks more beautiful than you did ten minutes ago?”

La Flor does a half turn, gives Little Carmen a big smile, “You may.”

“You looks more beautiful than you did ten minutes ago.”

La Flor turns back toward the camera, “Here is breaking sports news.”

“Yes, breaking news,” said Little Carmen.

“I am going to the spa tomorrow and getting a seaweed wrap, facial, and massage.”

“That’s terrific beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster. Can I gives some breaking news?”

“We only have time for one quick item, LC. Make it a good one.”

“Okay. Breaking news. Tonight’s special at Carmen’s Pizzeria is a double topping of Uncle Gino’s homemade sausage. Use gets a large for eighteen ninety-five and if use says LC sent use, use gets it for five ninety-five.”

“What do you think, Ray? Awesome, right? We’ll probably be leaving here as soon as the sports networks see the demo.”

“You going to take TT with you?”

“Please take me,” squeaked TT.

Broken But Not Defeated

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An irony of life is that often it is in our brokenness where we discover life’s goodness. It is as if our suffering becomes a teacher of life’s great lessons. In the following YouTube video, a soldier suffering from PTSD and a service dog come together to tell a beautiful story.

Only After He Crawls Back

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Twenty-four hours later, the max for La Flor’s attention span. I can forget about her wanting to use the blog for whistleblowing. Besides, who’s she going to blow the whistle on, Dr. Phil’s alt ego? Her mystery writer friend? Big Carmen? I decided to write a reflection on the meaning of life. . . .

“Ray, Ray, Ray! You promised I could be the whistleblower today. You promised. You promised. You know what happens to people when they break their promises to me?”

“No, what?”

“I won’t let you forget it, ever. I mean longer than ever. I mean I will remind you when you wake up. I will remind you every five minutes. I will remind you when you go to bed. I will keep saying it over and over while you sleep.”

“Won’t you get tired of reminding me?” I asked.

“Never.”

The beautiful, tough, and edgy whistleblower knows how to get her way. I said, “It’s all yours, La Flor. Try not to make it too long. WordPress has a thing against long whistleblowing blogs.” Okay, I admit I wasn’t telling the truth about WordPress. Don’t tell her, por favor. I’m only trying to help you.

La Flor sat in front of the laptop. She said, “I’m all over this like perfect eyebrows on me. Like perfect pouty lips on me. Like the way I fit into the edgiest of clothes.”

“I get the point,” I said. I began to silently pray.

“Will I bother you if I speak aloud while I’m writing? It helps my creative spirit.”

“What you’re writing is all true? You’re not creating anything, are you?” I asked. A bit timidity in my voice.

“Every word. Make sure all the doors and windows are locked. Turn your smartphone off. I want no interruptions, especially from you know who.”

“Your mystery writer friend? Dr. Phil’s alt ego?”

“No. No. No. LC.”

La Flor turned her attention to the blog. She began writing her whistleblower piece, “Your so vain, LC. You probably think this post is about you. Don’t you. Don’t You. Well, I hear you went to Vegas. You played craps and naturally, won. Then you flew up to Chicago to see how deep dish pizza is done. Then, you strolled into my party like you’re walking on air. You had one eye on your smartphone, the other on the girls wanting to be your partner. Your so vain, LC. You probably think this post is about you. Don’t you. Don’t you.”

“Stop. Stop. You’re plagiarizing,” I shouted.

La Flor turned to me, “No, I’m not. I got permission from Carly Simon’s alt ego after I told her all about LC flirting with two of my competitors. I’m blowing the whistle on that two timing, sweet talking, hunk of muscle, and all man.”

“It sounds like you’re talking your way back to him,” I said.

“Only after he crawls back to me on all fours and begs me to take him back,” said La Flor.

“Then you’ll take him back?” I asked.

“No, I just want him to crawl back. Besides, I’ve got another guy.”

“You do? Who is he? Where did you meet him?” I asked.

“I don’t have trouble getting guys. They’re always hitting on me. It’s a curse I have to live with since I’m beautiful, tough, and edgy.”

“Somebody has to do it,” I said.

“I decided to go with brains over looks and muscle.”

“You’re using him, right?” I said.

“How did you know?” asked La Flor.

“Just a feeling. Do you think it’s fair?” I asked.

“Yes. Next question,” said La Flor getting ready to hit the publish button.

“Do you think Little Carmen will be jealous?”

“That’s the point, Ray. What planet do you live on?”

“Will Little Carmen confront your new faux boyfriend?” I said, think La Flor’s game might be dangerous for the unwitting guy who fell for her.

“All I can do is hope.”

“Why?”

“Survival of the fittest, Ray.”

“Is it Dr. Phil’s script writer? The skinny, geeky looking guy who’s very shy?”

“Perfect choice, don’t you think? You forgot to mention, receding hairline, and has the shape of a pencil.”

“A lamb being led to the slaughter,” I said.

“I like to think of it as the most meaningful thing he’ll ever do in his life.”

“La Flor don’t hit the publish button.”

“Too late.”

 

 

Don’t Quit – Give It All You’ve Got

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I’ve always liked sports. I enjoyed the competition, comradery, and the discipline participation taught me. The athletes who participate in sporting events often offer great metaphors for us. In the following YouTube video, the athlete could have easily quit, no one would have noticed except her teammates. She could have given less than full effort. Instead, her 110% effort becomes our metaphor to never quit, no matter how dire the circumstances. The only time failure is certain is when we quit. Don’t quit. Don’t give up. Give it all you’ve got.

Tell Me They’re Zirconium

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I’m putting the finishing touches on my blog. I’m quite taken with my brilliance. My ability to twist facts into fiction. My complete understanding of human nature and its nuances, until . . .

“Ray! Ray! Ray!” The voice. The blaring, unceasing tonal demand. The refusal to take no for an answer. To cop a phrase, “She’s more beautiful than a runway model. She’s tougher than a tank of barracudas. She’s edgy enough to pull off any look. It’s La Flor.

“What’s up?” La Flor. I said softly and calmly. I watched a PBS special where I learned speaking softly and calmly works wonders on others.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop. Stop! Stop!” she shouted. So much for soft and quiet.

“Do you mean what am I doing now? Or, do you mean what was I doing?” I’m learning with La Flor. I want to get this right. If I don’t, we’ll carry on for four or five paragraphs.

“Tell me it’s not too late. See, I used too correctly. Please, tell me I’m not too late,” La Flor is pleading with me.

“Too late for what? Dinner? Coffee? Desert? Your favorite reality show? Give me a little help,” I said.

“If only LC were here. He would have reached you on time. I can’t run as fast as LC when I’m wearing stilettos.”

I looked at her feet, “Nice stilettos, how much they set you back?”

“Nothing, I used your card.”

“How much did it set me back?” I asked.

“Not as much as my earrings. Like them,” she said placing her palms behind her ears and pushing the lobs a bit forward.

“Tell me they’re zirconium.”

“Seriously, do you think La Flor is going to wear zirconium?”

Opps, back to speaking in the third person. What am I going to do? Get upset over it. Not a chance. I’ll report the card stolen, I thought.

“And, don’t you dare report the card stolen or lost,” she said.

What is she a mind reader?

“I’m listening to mind reading podcasts, and it seems to be working.”

I needed to change the topic, “Is this an emergency?” I asked.

“Of the first, second, and third order. Maybe the fourth, fifth and sixth orders. Maybe a takeout order,” she said.

Remember, I’m a sensitive guy. At least in my own mind. “Sit down La Flor. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Something stronger, por favor.”

“Diet Coke?”

“What I would give for a sensitive male,” she hollered.

“That’s me,” I said.

“Get real,” La Flor answered.

What choice did I have? I brought La Flor a glass of white wine and handed it to her. She took a sip. “Where did you buy this? What did you pay, a dollar seventy-five?”

“Hold on. It was on sale for three ninety-eight.”

She set the wine glass down, reached into her expensive leather, made in Italy, handbag, pulled out a tin of breath mints and took at least a half dozen out and chewed them as if she hadn’t tasted food for six weeks. “I’ll never lose the taste. If you ruined my wine tasting buds, I’ll, I’ll ….”

I finished her sentence, “Tell Ray about the emergency.”

Fortunately, La Flor’s attention span is a tad better than mine, that’s not saying much. She said, “Did you publish the blog?”

“As soon as we’re done I’m going to publish it.”

“I’m in time. Hold it. Keep it in draft. Save it for a slow day. Give it away.”

“Why?”

“I’m turning whistleblower,” she said.

“Whistleblower?” I am happy Little Carmen has to deliver pizzas today. I can only imagine what he would have done with the word whistleblower.

“I’m going to tear down walls. I going to bring the big shots down. I’m going to be famous. Maybe I’ll win a Pulitzer Piñata.”

I knew it was too good to last. The doorbell rang.

“Get it, Ray. It’ll be LC. I asked him to bring me an iced skinny latte while on his pizza deliveries.”

I didn’t have to answer the door. “Hey use guys, I gots your skinny, ninny, latte beautiful, tough, and edgy make me drool all over myself. BT, I can never remember the last letter. Anyways, I made this pie all by myself except for the dough, sauce, cheese, and toppings. Oh, I think it was S.”

“S? No, it’s W,” I said.

“What’s W?” a confused Little Carmen said.

“A letter. BTW, we didn’t order a pizza,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s already paid for. The guy paid by credit card. I think use got it wrong, Ray-Mo. It’s BTS.”

“He won’t get his pizza,” I said.

“Not if he wants this one,” Little Carmen laughed.

La Flor stared at Little Carmen with a cross between a sense of awe and awful. I couldn’t quite make it out. She said, “Come over here and keep me company LC. Don’t talk while I’m talking. Did you know Ray gave me cheap wine?”

Little Carmen had a look of horror on his face, “Ray-mo. Cheap wine. You gotta nerve.”

La Flor put her forefinger to Little Carmen’s lips, “That’s enough, have a piece of pie and play with your smartphone. Ray, where was I?”

I wanted to say ‘the fourth level of insanity but didn’t. “So,” I said, “You are going to be a whistleblower.”

“Is that like those guys with the striped shirts at the football games?” said Little Carmen.

“LC!”

“Sorry, beautiful, tough, and edgy whistleblower.”

Come back tomorrow for the whistleblower’s story.

 

 

 

Hold On To Your Dream

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How many times have you felt like giving up? The dream, which once grabbed hold of your heart, lost its pull on you and faded away like the morning dew. Hold on to the dream. Hold it tight with both hands. Hold it so tight that even the jaws of life couldn’t pry it loose from you. The following YouTube video illustrates how never quitting, never giving up, and giving it our best every second turns a seeming defeat into triumph.

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