By way of explaining my smile

I keep mentioning this "second chance" I've gotten, so I suppose I have some explaining to do.

Well, I'm not going to get into the gross details, no need to frighten my poor parents, but I'll try to give you, my faithful readers, a general overview of why I'm just so darn happy today, despite yesterday's disappointment and the general state of world affairs.

I guess the bottom line is this: My whole life, or at least it feels that way sometimes, I've battled demons inside my head. I don't know if it's something that changed with puberty or what, but I went from being a happy child to a tormented teen and that didn't change with adulthood, love, college or anything else. I just found new ways to fight, new ways to ease the pain.

As Bon Jovi said, you live for the fight when it's all that you've got.

I pride myself on being a tough guy. I'm a hockey player. I'll drop the gloves with anyone. But sometimes, you're in a fight you can't win, or you feel like you can't win.

And sometimes, for me, it became overwhelming. Even disastrous.

I've tried suicide. I've hurt people I loved. I've failed when I should have succeeded. And every time, the guilt was overwhelming, the pressure snowballed, and everything got worse.

So when I turned 29, and then 30, I've tried to do a lot of re-evaluating. And I decided I'm tired of fighting something I can't beat. And I got help. And, at least for now, it seems to be working.

I guess you could sort of say I'm born again, but without the annoying Jesus fetish.

Anyway, today is a beautiful day, and the sun was out, the sky was blue, and I could kick back and pop the sunroof on the car, roll the window down, turn the radio up and cruise.

Lord knows, that's why I bought a car with 200 horses, to cruise.

I bought a salad I dig, I heard an '80s song I haven't heard in ages on the radio, I talked with my best friend for the first time in a while, and I just generally feel good.

(It helps that I think my allergy season is finally over so I wasn't sneezing like a fiend every few minutes.)

I even practiced a couple of random acts of kindness.

I told one of my friends today, I didn't get anything I wanted to get done this weekend done, I got some bad news from a buddy of mine, I got dropped like a hot rock by a girl, and yet, I still had a great weekend and woke up today feeling good.

I had a nice drive and I'm looking forward to stopping at my favorite bar after work.

And no, I'm not so stupid that I don't wonder if this isn't at least slightly unnatural.

But I'd rather be a crazy, happy fool than a crazy, depressed one.

And I love waking up in the morning and feeling good. I can't remember the last time I felt that way.

The point is, I really feel like I've got a new lease on life, freedom to enjoy every day. It's not that I don't worry about responsibilities, or consequences, I just put them in the proper perspective. I stop and smell the roses, rather than worrying about the thorns, I guess.

It's hard to explain, but I hope you can understand. I've still got moods, and I'm sure I'll rant and spaz enough to keep y'all entertained.

But if I'm going to share when I feel rotten, I think you deserve for me to share when I feel good, too.

The weight of the world is off my shoulders, and I can stand up straighter because of it. And smile. It's like I forgot what it was like to be happy and now I've rediscovered it and it feels wonderful.

I can't think of a single link to put here. Deal.

(See, I'm still me. Just happier.)

Something I absolutely hate

OK, tonight I'm going to rant about women.

Or more specifically, something women say.

To me.

If you've got a problem with that, well, tough.

I don't hate women. In fact, I love women. I'd love them so much I'm trying to find one of my very own.

I went out on a few dates with this girl, and we had a really great time, but things just didn't work out.

I can live with that. I really can. She's excellent, and she wanted to stay friends, and I really think once I get over the disappointment of not being more - hey, I really dug her, you know? - we'll be friends.

This isn't about her. It's about something she said when giving me the bad news.

It wasn't even the bad news that bugged me. I've gotten plenty of bad news in my life. And I'm at a point where shockingly little bugs me.

What bugged me was that she said the magic words.

This isn't about her, or her saying them, she was just the last straw.

I've stayed friends with a lot of girls I've been interested in, and they've all said the magic words, and every time, it's pissed me off. Hell, I've heard it from girls I'm friends with who I haven't been interested in. I've just had enough. It's got nothing to do with them. They're my friends and I love them. I hope this particular girl will still be my friend. She's too cool not to be.

But they all said the magic words, and that's just set me off tonight. I've had enough. So ladies, if you haven't written me off as a chauvenistic pig or a complete jackass by now, pay attention. You might learn something.

You might learn that the magic words do NOT heal. They don't make things better, and they don't ease any pain or make you look any better. They are pure, 100 percent, Grade-A bullshit. So don't waste my time, or the time of other guys like me by saying them. Just be honest, if you don't think it's going to work, say so. That's fine. But don't say the magic words.

Ready for 'em? Have you guessed 'em already? Well, here they are if you haven't:

"You're a nice guy and I'm sure you'll find a nice girl."

What goes unsaid, of course, is the "Just not me."

I can't even begin to explain how much those magic words just PISS ME OFF.

I guess I am a nice guy. Most of my friends would probably tell you so. I'm not THAT nice. I'm not perfect and I can be kind of a jackass sometimes. But generally, yeah, I suppose I'm a nice guy.

And therefore, empirically, I'm well on my way to proving nice guys finish last.

Ladies, you don't have to remind me.

After all, if you're shooting me down, clearly, you're not making a convincing argument that I will, in fact, find a nice girl. I mean, by the time I worked up the nerve to ask you out and/or date you, I'm pretty well sold you're a nice girl.

I've had plenty of first dates with nice girls.

I've had one second date.

And on the third date, I heard the magic words.

Look, I'm honest, I'm objective, I know I'm not the best catch in the world, but I think I'm a pretty decent one. You like the way I look, you like the things I like, we can talk, we can get along, I'd probably really like to get to know you. So I guess I'm a simple guy, too. So you don't like me, tell me so. You want to be friends, tell me so. You never want to see me again, tell me that, too. I can handle all that.

But what I can't handle, what just sticks a goddamn knife in my gut, is hearing someone tell me that I'm so goddamn wonderful when they don't want to date me.

The kicker is, of course, it's always the girls who actually seem to appreciate that I'm a nice guy who say it. You know, the ones who stay my friends. They wouldn't be my friends if I were an asshole.

Evidently, nice girls want to find OTHER nice guys.

And this is the kind of thing that makes me figure I just don't understand women.

I joined one of those online dating services, at the recommendation of someone I know. Serves me right for trusting someone I don't know that well.

But I've reached the conclusion, reading profiles of women on these things, that women want three things: a sense of humor, honesty and loyalty.

Or they're all lying.

I believe in chemistry. I understand you have to feel something for someone. I can live with a date not feeling it with me. Hell, I've been on dates where I haven't felt it with them.

But since I have a good sense of humor, I'm honest to a fault, and if I have one characteristic in life, it's loyalty, I've reached the inevitable conclusion that one of two things should happen:

1. I'll eventually find that nice girl, purely by mathematical odds. Or,
2. I'm cursed. But that's another blog, and I don't feel like getting into it. I'm feeling lousy enough right now.

So I suppose I'll stay optimistic and keep looking for Miss Right.

And I guess that means the chances are good, I'll keep hearing what a nice guy I am.

Maybe, if I hear it enough, it'll piss me off enough that I'll cease to be a nice guy. Maybe then I'll find a girl.

But then, she'll probably think I'm an asshole.

And I probably won't be able to live with myself anyway.

Well, this worked. I'm not really upset anymore. Just kind of sad and resigned.

But I'm not depressed. So life can't be that bad. I swear to God, I'm still going to make the most of this second chance.

And hey, if you're reading this, and you know any nice girls who actually want to find THIS nice guy, help me out, huh?

Links:
Match.com
eHarmony.com

Believe it or not, I've gotten enough dates out of these services that I'm almost (but not quite) convinced it's worth the money and embarrassment. What can I say? I work at night, I need some help finding girls... and I'll take help anywhere I can get it.

Memorial Day, more than just a long weekend

If I understand correctly, Memorial Day is technically a day to honor the American military dead, while Veterans Day is a day to honor the living.

But, since I don't feel like waiting until Veterans Day to honor the living, I'm going to honor both with this post.

American troops, past, present and future, have and will always have a dear place in my heart. I'm from Vietnam, a war orphan, and I've said this before and I'll say it again - there is very little I have in my life that is not due, at least in some small part, to the sacrifices of brave men and women who fought in that unappreciated war.

And by extension, there is very little we as Americans have in our lives that is not due, at least in some small part, to the sacrifices of brave men and women who fought in wars long before that, from the Revolution that made us a free nation, to the Civil War that freed the slaves, to the World Wars that opposed tyranny and (in the case of the Nazis) pure evil. And so forth.

Of course, with troops overseas fighting and dying far from home and loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan, it's tough to merely pay tribute to those who have fallen and not those who still serve or who were lucky or strong enough to survive.

God bless those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for America. And by America, I mean you, dear reader, and me. And God bless their families, because the dead may not know any more pain, but those they've left behind certainly do.

And God bless our troops, too, may you all return safe home someday to those you love.

Living or dead, to these American heroes, I'm proud of you, I salute you and I'm thinking of you, this day, Veterans Day and every day.

Links:
• Memorial Day information
• Veterans Day information
• Vietnam Veterans of America
• And finally, a salute I wrote to Vietnam veterans in The Morning Call in 1999, reprinted via the Minneapolis Star-Tribune on Don Blankenship's fine RiverVet page (please note, I take no responsibility for anything else on the page; I think it's terrific and moving, generally, but our politics and opinions don't always match). Please don't think it's vanity to cite myself here, it's just I've never found a better way to say how I feel than this piece.

Two asides:

First, yes, police, firefighters, doctors, nurses, etc., are heroes, too. And on a personal level, certainly people such as Betty Tisdale and the Babylift folks deserve more than their fair share of applause. But it's Memorial Day. This one's for the troops.

And second, yes, if you're not from America, you can probably disregard much of this post. But at least try and think about those who have sacrificed so you have the life you do.