Not Knowing How to Say Thanks

That’s the position I’m in.

Some people who read the post about the lawsuit took up a collection and sent it my way. Anonymously.

There are some times when things you receive are like grace. You don’t necessarily deserve it, but it’s freely given, totally unexpected, and heart-wrenchingly welcome.

We’ve paid off the lawsuit and received a Release From Judgment.

So, for those of you that contributed, even though it wasn’t strictly necessary, thank you. I could say it a million times and still mean it as much as the first.

We’ve had the lawsuit, a big project at my work, the kids’ end-of-school activities (including Jacob losing his first 3 teeth), and it’s not even summer.

Now, on to do some maintenance and plan for November.

The Wheels of Justice

They turn. Sometimes they grind.

To be brief: we had been sued by an apartment complex because we were the guarantors for a friend. The amount in question was over $1500. The major point of law in our favor was that it appeared to be that writing the words “Renewal Lease” in ink on top of a standard contract without any signatures or initials of any sort still constitutes a valid renewal lease. The judge ruled in favor of the apartment complex, and so we now owe the original amount plus $3800 in lawyer fees.

I’m rather melancholic about it. Yes, it sucks when you think a company has done wrong. However, our lawyer tried her best, yet the judge decided against us. I can’t fault the judge for that, nor do I fault the apartment complex or their lawyers.

What does make me upset is what I see as an onerous guarantor process, one that allows the lessor to renew, extend terms, add fees, etc., without any knowledge on our part. Would we have done things differently had we known that we’d get slammed by these fees? Probably. But hindsight’s got LASIK.

So, now we just have to figure out some way to pay them that effectively stops the 18% interest on the judgment and fees. If I can offer this word of wisdom to anyone: don’t cosign anything for anyone. Friends, family, anyone.

Getting Your Driver’s License

One of the rites of passage for most people is when they finally get their driver’s license. The absolute sense of freedom that it provides is empowering to a teenager. I had to wait a bit to get mine. I didn’t take driver’s ed until I was 17. However, a lot of kids took the courses and passed the tests as soon as they could after their 16th birthday.

It was one girl’s 16th birthday yesterday, and most likely she’d be going to one of the city’s DPS offices after school today, waiting for a stern-faced instructor to come to her vehicle. She’d be nervous, but she’d get through the parallel parking section just fine. She’d slow down too much on a right-hand turn and have a few points deducted for that, but she’d pass.

Her parents would be a bit relieved, since they’d no longer have to drive her everywhere, but she wouldn’t exactly get the car of her dreams, but she’d get a car.

Of course, none of that happened, because 15 years ago today, a right-wing, government hating extremist parked a rental truck full of a fertilizer bomb in front of the Murrah building in Oklahoma City.  Baylee Allmon had celebrated her first birthday just the day before.

Her death is a reminder that when we have a soapbox that spouts talk of “State’s Rights”, “Secession”, “Resistance to the Government”, and “Armed Militias” (in OKLAHOMA CITY of all places), that people are listening and deciding to act. The internet has made what many would consider fringe opinions much more widely available, and that only adds fuel to the fire. Or bomb, as it may be.

I don’t have a solution to hate. I don’t have a solution to fear. The only real solution is education, community, understanding, and trying to reach out to that which you are not. Insularity, close-mindedness, and repetitive brainwashing of the same ideas over and over again leads us to dangerous ground.

To Sid: I wish I’d known you better

Tonight I went to a bar. With my mom. Before you say “ew,” allow me to explain.

Back in the ancient days, when I was in high school, a kid named Sid Ronk became my friend through the drama department at W.E. Boswell high school. Sid was at the time a big guy who could act well. For my birthday, he gave me an atlas. I don’t fully understand why, but he did. I liked him as a friend, but afterwards, when I went off to college, I lost track of him.

It turns out he had a rough-and-tumble time of it after high school, but he did okay. He worked as a bartender and as security for a couple of Ft. Worth bars, lastly and most notably Billy Bob’s, where I went with my mom this evening.

It was for a memorial gathering for Sid. He passed away on the 15th. There are rumors about what caused his death, but I’ve got nothing to substantiate them. I don’t know why he died, but he did. I think it’s out of guilt that I went, because off and on he’d been on my mind as someone I should try to catch up with. However, I didn’t. I didn’t make that effort. I didn’t take the time. And now I can’t.

I heard stories from friends, co-workers, former girlfriends…. everyone extolled the virtues of Sid. Even Donnie Franks stopped by to pay some “yaknowhaImsayin” respects. Sid cared, and I missed that part of his life.

Why, oh why, does it take a death for us to remember to live?

Facebook, Bras, and “Awareness”

So, today on facebook.com, women were encouraged to post the color of their bras. This in and of itself wasn’t remarkable, but you could see the pattern. One woman would post a color. Inevitably, there’d be a comment stating “Huh?”. This would be followed by a rejoinder from the poster about how it was for “breast cancer awareness”. This would be followed by either, “oh.” or the other personal putting their color in the comment.

Sadly, I have not learned one new thing about breast cancer today. I have learned that my female friends who are on facebook have a wonderfully vibrant spectrum of undergarments. Yea, verily, it has been a rehash of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, except in text form. But, it still doesn’t address the core issue that Linus so wisely put to Charlie Brown: “What Have We Learned?”

Well, for one thing, internet memes will spread like crazy given the oddity of the request. For another, I still don’t know any more about breast cancer. It doesn’t just affect women, I know, but what is the likelihood one of my friends will catch it? Is it hereditary? Is there anyone describing the self-check steps for women? What can I, as a guy, do in this?

The Komen organizations of the world do a great job publishing and pushing their message about breast cancer, but I don’t know if they’d call this a success in terms of getting the message across.

The other thing that worries me is that this will inspire stupid analogous efforts. “Post the color of your feces to support prostate cancer awareness.” EWWWWW. “Post the color of your underwear to support jock itch awareness.” SQUICK. “Post the color of your kneepads to support awareness of ACL tears.” In all of these cases, has the post done ANYTHING except reveal a bit too much information?

Now that we’ve opened that door, who knows what’s next? It’s not your outfit nor your “equipment”. It’s what you know. And that’s what matters most of all.

Stress Imitating Life

It’s been a significant time since I’ve posted much of anything. That’s mostly because we’ve been really busy trying to eliminate some stresses in our life. Sadly, the stresses aren’t gone, but at least we’re making progress:

1. The kids are great. Jacob’s loving kindergarten; Jessie’s a princess who prefers carbohydrates to actual dinner.

2. We just finished our 2008 taxes. Yes, it shouldn’t have taken this long, but at least we’re getting a refund.

3. We’re going to need that refund because we’re being sued. I won’t go into too many details, but my advice for anyone is unless you’re in a position to take a pound of flesh from someone, don’t co-sign for anything.

4. Work is. We’re entering a pretty stressful time, and the project just keeps going and going.