Youth and Truth

When I graduated college I thought everything was going to be okay. I thought I was going to get a great job, a good woman, and have the overall stability and consitency in life that you always see around you...

But when I graduated, it was the exact opposite. There was no good job. There was months and months of applying, trying to get something quick before my life went into financial disarray, which it did by the time I finally got a job. There was the anxiety of letting my parents down. There was the terrible feeling of not being able to take care of a family member of mine who lives with me, who just moved down here for a experience (if I lived in Lexington for four years and was hitting such hard times, what was she to expect when she moved?). I was also in love at the time (and still am), and it went unrequited (and still does). It wasn't the post-college fairy tale I thought it was going to be. Life seemed so difficult and the pressure seemed to build and build. Slowly depression kicked in, and in a response to that, and experiemented with different types of drugs to numb myself out and make the pain go away. All summer I did this. All summer I tried and tried and nothing ever seemed to go my way.

Here's what I believe:

I was told and raised to be a good student and a good person. I did well in middle school so I would be prepared to do well in high school. I did well in high school so I could be prepared to do well in college. I did fine in college and even managed to graduate within four years, a feat which is not as common nowadays as it used to be. I have did everything that was asked of me without question. And in the end, during that summer, what should have been a summer of celebration, ended up being one of the worst times of my life. I would even consider August of '08 to be the worst month of my life.

We are told as children that if you play by the rules and be what to our parents qualify as "good," then we will succeed. I don't nessecarily think that's true and it makes me wonder if I am going to lie to my child about the future and tell him everything is going to be okay. Now, I'm not just putting this on my parents. I love my parents and would not trade them for anyone in the world. I am just saying them, along with society, tell you things that simply aren't true. We are lied to in order to conform, to pander to what they want.

LIE: Do well in college and you'll be fine in life.

TRUTH: I did great in college. Not only did I have outstanding grades, but I was also heavily involved in a fraternity (where I was VP), a volunteer cancer facility, and campus overall. I graduated in May, starting looking for jobs in the January before, and didn't find one until September.

LIE: There is a woman out there for you.

TRUTH: Women are head demons, sent to earth by Satan to entrap your heart and make you their slaves for all eternity. If you manage to not kill yourself because of their trickery, they will do it for you. AND, me telling myself this doesn't matter because I'm always going to love and fall in love with them, so I might as well prepare for years of anguish and misery.

LIE: God can guide you through anything...

TRUTH: I come closer and closer to becoming a nihilistic everyday. I would be an anarchist, but I'm too damn lazy to stir some shit up.

Life is not what they tell you when you are young, and if it is then you are a fucking lucky bastard. If it is, CONGRATS and I hope all is going well!!!

BTW...

My sports life seems kind of weird. Per usual, the Bengals are a SUCK-FEST, while my Alma mater continues to dominate...

As One Gets Older...

I recently just got back into Lexington, Ky, having visited my Appalachian home of West Liberty, Ky. This weekend, they hosted the annual Sorghum Festival. For those of you who don't know what that is, I don't even think I could put into words on here to make it clearer for you, especially if you're not from Kentucky nor anywhere around. But, the county treats it like a big deal. Some people love it, some people hate it. Since I moved to Lexington and became a student at UK, I have opted out on every Sorghum Festival until this last one. I didn't even realize that until I actually pulled up into my mother's driveway and realized it had been almost 4 years since I had come to participate in something that was very big in my childhood.

And that made me think...

Walking and driving around the festival, I barely recognized anyone. Sure, I had my ten or so "stop-n-chats," but it didn't used to be like that. I walked around sluggishly, looking for something to entertain me. I even sampled some fine Eastern Kentucky sorghum, but it was kind of a bore, which really befuddled me.

I used to LOVE the Sorghum Festival. I loved the parade, the people, the smells, the feeling that at least once a year everyone in my town would gather at the same place and celebrate...whatever, life maybe. Maybe being from Eastern Kentucky. There was a feeling of excitement that week in school, knowing we would get that Friday off so we could enjoy the local event. And, as a pretty damn good football player (not to toot my own horn), I LOVED the excitement surrounded by the Sorghum Bowl, our local high school football team's premiere event (even though we always lost, and kept that tradition this year). The women would look good. I mean, where else do you find all these beautiful girls in overalls and daisy dukes all around you? The food was always good. Even the parade was enjoyable, which is a surprise considering it is hardly a parade at all. It was a beautiful time in my life then, a wonderful time. My parents, especially my father, whom I have already discussed (see entry on Sep. 25, 2008), would throw huge parties where everyone would drink and just be happy to be there. Thinking about it makes me happy...until I realize my latest journey home.

This last visit to the Sorghum Festival, I did not feel any of that. There was barely anyone I knew. Half the people I used to hang out with were either married and gone, had kids, or didn't show up at all. I was no longer a big time football. I felt overall apathy towards it. I felt like a visitor in a county that is basically my ancestral home. Was it because I hadn't been home in a while? Was it because I missed my Dad?

I am convinced that this is what happens as you grow up. These types of feelings will continue to get worse as you get older. I remember as a child wondering why adults seemed so serious and disillusioned, like they couldn't enjoy things like I could. Now I am an adult, and I see that things just aren't that enjoyable. People become weathered over time. Things you used to love and that the memories of can make you feel great, just don't anymore.

I'm glad I went to the festival. I will be back there again. Maybe not next year or the next. Maybe so. But I did learn a valuable lesson that I will carry with me: as you get older, things start to suck.

PS. Yes, I did get intoxicated on multiple substances while I was there. While this post is a lesson in philosophy, let's not forget I come from Eastern Kentucky, and inebriation is a big part of celebrating.

:)

Fathom is a Fox :)

Just found a little rumor. Apparently, Megan Fox is interested in doing a live action film version of the comic book Fathom. Fathom's creator Michael Turner recently passed away, which is apparently what has the studios hurrying up the process. Oh, and, um, Megan Fox is hot.

The Obama Smackdown!

Tonight, the first debate scheduled between John McCain and Barack Obama is supposed to happen, that is if McLyin' decides he's ready for it. He recently suspended his campaign to focus on the overall annihilation of our economy in the past few weeks. On the flip side, our man Barack has made statements about how it is very important for the debates to go forward, as one must be able to handle multiple tasks and problems during a crisis, if one wants to become president. That makes sense, right? I mean, George Bush was able to handle all kinds of problems at once: the economy, Hurricane Katrina, the Alberto Gonzalas scandel, the War in Iraq, alleged torture in Gunatanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib by Americans, illegal wire tappings, and trying to walk at the same time he was trying to be literate. Very difficult indeed. Yes, John McCain. Call it a break to help America, call it your way of solving the problem, but I know what it truly is. I know the truth. It is no coincidence that you also want to cancel the vice presidential debates to reschedule this first debate. Hmmm...could it be that your bumbling, incoherent, untruthful, unintellectual, and unexperienced choice of a vice president is not ready for a debate? I mean, she can't handle Katie Couric, right?

Anyways, sorry for all the bitching...I DO NOT want to discuss politics all the time. But I do think it is important for all of you to know about the debate tonight. As far as I know, it is scheduled. I will update this if I hear anything further. Make sure you check it out on CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, or C-Span at 9 PM. Try NOT to watch it on Fox News if you can. If you have to, just ignore the commentary.

My Father, The General

So far, the biggest problem with having a blog, in my opinion, is having topics to write about. I thought about writing entries regarding the ongoing election, but then I realized that would have been nothing but regurgitated news I myself have already read, watched, or heard. Then I thought about making this sort of a day-to-day journal, discussing my life as events occur day by day. The problem with that was nothing really exciting happens to me. I mean, I will be sure to write it if it does, but it probably won't. So just to get my thinking juices flowing, I thought I would take this time to reflect on one of the biggest influences on my life, and concurrently, one of the biggest occurances: my father, and my father's passing, respectively.

My father was a true Eastern Kentuckian, something he was very proud of and taught me to be proud of as well. He was raised in Floyd County, Kentucky, a stereotypical Eastern Kentucky county. Coal was big. Basketball was even bigger. From what I have been told, and from what I have seen, he was very popular, especially among the large group of friends that he kept. I would later call these friends of his my "uncles," and some of the best times of my life is when we are together, at dinner, or celebrating the KHSAA Sweet Sixteen, where they tell me stories of my father that seem so different from the man I knew. You see, my dad was conservative around me. I think he wanted me to lead a more graceful path than the one he took. Apparently, and I never knew this, he could drink anyone under the table, was a rabid party man, and could show anyone a good time. With me, he was calm, cool, and quiet. He was a teacher, and I think it's interesting that I never really saw the wild side of him. To me, that shows his dedication to his child. No parent wants their child seeing their "non-parenting" ways.

One story involved him and his friends going to a local strip club in Lexington, Ky. All but one in the entire group wanted to go, and Dad ended up convincing the man. Apparently, his smile and happy-go-lucky attitude was all it took to charm someone into anything. There wasn't enough room in the truck for everyone, so Dad, being the short stocky fella he was, sat in the floor of the passenger seat. Everyone else suggested there wasn't enough room. Dad said there was plenty. As they entered the club, an uncle of man approached the bar to get a drink. He received the cold beverage, went to the table the group had chosen, and began to sit down. Before his butt even reached the chair, he heard a loud "YOU, OUTTA HERE!!!" My uncle looked over, and there was my father, hand-to-tit, with one of the lovely ladies. They hadn't been in the club for more than four minutes, and it was already apparently time to leave.

No one cared though. People loved my dad. They still do. I still to this day have never heard anyone say one bad thing against him. I can't say the same for myself.

Another story has to do with when I was born. Once again, in Lexington, Ky, a few nights after I was born at the University of Kentucky, my father, once again with his equally fun loving friends, decided to go out and celebrate. My mother, who had been placed in ICU because I guess I had nearly destroyed her, could not look after me that night. The doctors told her that the mother-son bonding during this stage was important, but she couldn't do it. At 4AM, since the doctors suggested to her that they neede her to handle me, Mom called Dad at whatever bar he and his friends were celebrating. Without missing a beat, the entire crew rushed to the hospital, walked in, and crowded the room. Now, I can see when reading this how one might miss the comedic aspect of the story. But think about it. A small intensive care room crowded with ten to twelve drunken individuals, being happy and loud, celebrating the birth of a new child, while the mother lay there barely able to speak. Okay, maybe it does sound worse than it was funny, but from what I've been told, by Mom too, it was hilarious. I can only imagine what they nurses and doctors were thinking.

My father passed away on December 20, 2005. He found out he had cancer that October, and I guess by that time it was too late. I couldn't believe it when it happened. I guess no one can when they lose a parent. There is something there, something that makes a father seem invincible, and when something like that happens...it's undescribable. I try now to be a man my father would be proud of and I wonder if he his. I'm not sure there is a heaven or hell. In fact, I've nearly convinced myself that there is not. But only in this case do I hope their actually is because he deserves a spot in heaven. George Lee Scott was a great man. He was a soldier in Vietnam, a coal miner and prison guard in Kentucky, a caring and protective husband, a glad step-father and a proud father. They called him The General at work. That's kind of what he was in my life, guiding me through everything.

Tyger, Tyger

My poor Bengals. I will say that being from a small town in Eastern Kentucky, that already qualifies me to be a Bengals fan. I don't know why, it just seems to happen that way. My father was a huge fan. He used to go to the games every Sunday with a group of his rowdy friends and they would tear the town Cincinnati apart. So it should be no surprise to you when I say that he would be spinning in his grave if he knew how this season, and sub sequentially, that last few seasons for this team has went. The Bengals have gone from bad to worse over the years. The kicker is that yesterday during their game with the New York Giants, for a moment, I experienced a glimmer of hope. 13 All by the half? No way! But, my dreams were surely crushed by the end of the game, and I should have known better anyway. It's my own damn fault for believing that this team would defeat a former Super Bowl champion. If I was Carson Palmer, I'd think about finding the best and fastest way out possible, even though it pains me to say it. And if I was Mike Brown, I'd make sure Marvin doesn't have much time left. Please Mr. Brown! Do something quick before being a fan of the Bengals qualifies me in the "dumb Appalachian" stereotype. I get it enough as it is! Don't let the Bengals make me look more stupid!!!

The Genesis

The Genesis
I am probably sure no one is reading this, but after considering the improving quality of health of bloggers, and not having much to do at work, I have decided to become part of the Blogging Nation. So, the Genesis. A little about me perhaps? I never really know what to write here. I am a 22 year old University of Kentucky graduate but that is something I am neither proud nor ashamed of. It just is. I have a hard time getting up before 12 PM although I am working on that. I feel like life does not even come close to the satisfaction level that it did when I was a child, but I still stumble through it with a smile on my face and work hard on putting smiles on faces of other people, especially those close to me. I love to be a show for people and believe those people love it to. The terrible thing is that most people only see the show and don't know me at all. I am fun and I am boring. It really depends on you. If you suck, I'm probably going to have a shitty time. I really want tattoos and piercings but have never felt the inspiration to get them...until now. I have many thoughts that I don't discuss because I can't seem to get past conversations with people about drinking and partying even though there is so much more. If you ask me about them, I'll tell you. I believe that conversation is the key to everything and I would love to know your defeats and victories in this world. If it was up to me RAP would be dead and NU-METAL would live forever. I don't like cell phones but find myself inescapably connected to them. I read comic books and am not ashamed to show you them if you are ever in my residence (only a few people know this, now you do if you read this). There are only five people who really KNOW me, and three of them are beautiful women. I miss Eastern Kentucky and will be there again. I know what souse is and I'm sorry that you don't. I am bald and would used to physically assault anyone who pointed it out. Nowadays I'll take it as a complement. I love anything that is unique and will not judge you. I think people who are obsessed with how they look and what types of clothes they wear (especially those who MUST have Vineyard Vines) need to go away for a month and do some deep soul searching. I don't know why when my friends and I get together to drink we end up hating each other that night. There are five things I hate in this universe and will never tell you what they are unless I consider you a good friend. I cannot stand being in Louisville, but that is not one of them. Thunder Over Louisville is overrated as well. If you mention your love of religion to me I won't hold you in the highest regard I could compared to someone that doesn't. I love kids and want as many as my wife can have before all those parts shut down for good. I miss the old days. I miss my dad. I love breakfast but never get to have it. Someone in this world has all of my heart and the kicker is that I'll never get to be with them the way I want. Life is ridiculous and nonsensical, and sometimes that pisses me off. At this point I don't even know what's going on and I hope that feeling goes away soon. If you would like to know anything more please do inquire.