Thursday, December 31, 2020

No Good, Sh*tty Year, Good Riddance to 2020

You are here: Home » No Good, Sh*tty Year, Good Riddance to 2020
 

 


Christopher and Nico at the NASCAR Hall of Fame. January 1, 2021.



December 31,2020

Warning: this blog egregiously uses the word shitty.


Good riddance to the end of this no-good, shitty year. Thank your favorite deity that 2020 is coming to a close, and you made it. Hopefully, the stench of yesteryear will be cleansed the moment we usher in 2021.

The cloud of COVID-19 was not too far in the distance when we last visited ushering in 2020. I was in Madrid, Spain, ringing in 2020. Who knew how bad this year would be, other than our politicians, of the incoming death? They failed us without notification. Why are we surprised whenever the government treats us as collateral damage?

You'd think the Covid virus would be the kickoff to a shitty year, but we didn't take that seriously until March. A San Francisco 49ers fan may argue with you when the shitty year started when they lost the Super Bowl at the beginning of February to the Kansas City Chiefs. Most people identify January 26, 2020, the death date of Kobe Bryant, his daughter, and the 7 other souls aboard his helicopter, as the beginning of the end of this no-good, shitty year.

Covid decimated us. The death of the people we care about is the number one reason why most of us felt hopeless during this year. Followed by the separation of loved ones to avoid spreading the virus. Then, there was total isolation because the separation was not working. How cruel 2020 has been during this no-good, shitty year.

For me, I had the birth of my 4th son, Max. We were lucky because they lifted some restrictions in May, and I was able to see his birth. If she had given birth the week before, she would be alone in the operating room. Little Max is my glimmer of hope during this no-good, shitty year.

The first half of the year progressed into the summer, and then Minneapolis happened. That S.O.B. refused to listen to bystanders while he placed a knee on George Floyd's neck. No matter who you were, I believe the sight of it made us sick to our stomachs. The civil unrest that followed was sad. Everyone was willing to listen, but then the death and destruction in the wake of goodwill resonated in future history books by the time my kid's own children were growing up. Needless to say, this was a no-good, shitty year.

Mother Nature unleashed a record-breaking hurricane season in America. She ventured off into the Greek alphabet, ending with Hurricane Theta. There were so many landfalls in the Louisiana area. What a no-good, shitty hurricane year.

Billy Joel wrote a song called We Didn't Start the Fire. The lyrics spanned decades of news making headlines. A new song's lyrics could span the past 12 months in this no-good, shitty year.

Capping off my no-good shitty year. I failed my final research paper. Thus, I will have to retake the entire class in 2021.

Ugh, this is no good, shitty year.

My soul hurts for those alone tonight on New Year's Eve and fearful of 2021. But rest assured, with each new day, there is renewed hope. With each new day, we will rebuild. With each new day, we will get better. And with each new day, we are further away from that no-good, shitty year, 2020. Good riddance.

Happy New Year, everyone! May 2021 bring you good health and fortune. Hopefully, we will have some normalcy.



Blake and Max on a getaway with the family, December 29 and December 30, 2020.


566 words 

 



© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print.  



Saturday, December 19, 2020

Santa Claus Has Cov- er, umm The Word We Shall Not Say

You are here: Home » Santa Has Covid
 


Christopher, Blake and Nico on vacation in Kingsport, Tennessee.  December 28, 2020.


December 19, 2020


There was light chatter amongst the elves that Santa might have COVID-19. A whisper here on the toy line. A theory over there in the corner by the water cooler. But where could the fib have started?

 I'm not a detective. However, the rumors may have begun when Parnell entered the head trainer's office and exclaimed. 

"Santa may have COVID!" 

Startled, Papa Newell leaped to his feet. "Wha-wha-what," he stammered. 

"No one is telling us that Santa has COVID! It makes me upset because I work so close to Santa. I have a right to know."  

"You mustn't say a word, Parnell. Some rules govern us regarding health issues and privacy. And Santa is protected by those rules."

Later that evening, during the winter feast, to celebrate the elves' hard work this past summer and fall preparing the toys for shipment on Santa's sleigh. The elves were merry. They danced and sang their favorite songs. The same songs their ancestors had sung for 1,000 years. 

"We work and work, play and dance, our lives are complete. We tend homes, raise our family, and rise to our feet while celebrating life daily." 

Parnell didn't care about the governing rules. He decided to tell everyone out of fear of the virus spreading. 

Parnell rushed into the crowded ballroom. Pushed elves over and other elves, he moved out of the way. 

"Shmop" he shouted. 

His hands placed out to his sides, palms out. 

"Shamta howes Covend." 

The party-going elves still danced about. As their bodies bumped into Parnell, they would look back at him with a puzzled look. 

Little Ernie looked up from the ground, from where he was knocked over by Parnell. 

"What?" His voice squeaked out. 

"Shamta howes Covend!" 

The music stopped. 

"Take off your mask," a voice from the back exclaimed. 

He grabbed his mask and ripped it off his face. And with intensity and strength, he shouted again, "Santa has COVID!" 

He stood before them in a stoic stance. And stared intensely as if there was a camera in front of him. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing. The mood deflated, and the festive air changed to despair. 

"Who says," Priscilla, the lead elf demanded. 

A murmur of great concern traveled amongst the rest of the elves. 

"COVID?!" Tanner, the assembly elf, shouted before he fainted. 

"But we have been practicing social distancing on the toy floor. We wore our masks. We have sanitizer. We have protection!" Dibs, the toy-making foreman proclaimed. 

"Umm, well, it does not matter, Dibs," Juniper, the lead toy maker, started, "If Santa is sick with COVID, we must quarantine because he was in the workshop 2 days ago. And we can't risk spreading COVID."  

The other elves bowed their heads. 

"There goes Christmas," Jenny sobbed. 

Most other elves nodded in agreement as they sided with Jenny's decision. 

"We cannot disappoint the people of the world!" Benny proclaimed. "With our proper precautions, we must still have Christmas." 

"You are correct, Benny. We have taken proper precautions," Priscilla said. "But traveling worldwide isn't the safest thing to do now. Especially since the big guy has COVID." 

"We need a plan," logistics manager Frawn said. 

Priscilla was calm because she already knew what to do. That is why she is the big boss. 

"Okay, Frawn, we must tell the parents they must get their kids Christmas presents this year." 

All the elves simultaneously looked around in disbelief. The thought that parents would now assume control of the gift-giving perplexed them. 

"They cannot be trusted with the spirit of Christmas," Parnell quipped. 

"People need hope," Leighbo said. He's been working with Santa for 190 years. "Children need Santa more than ever. Adults too! They are scared and sad. A pandemic has taken over the world. Even the idea of Santa can stimulate hope."

Pricilla stood up on top of the gathering table. She looked around at the faces of the other elves who looked to her for guidance. "Chin up, Luna," she said while bending over and lifting the chin of the scared elf. 

She straightened up and looked around. "Leighbo is correct," she began to say. She scanned the crowd and looked at them in the eyes. "We must get the word to all the parents in the world and tell them it is on them to make Christmas happen this year." 

"But they don't know how!" An elf shrieked from her chair. 

"They'll ruin it all," Terrance, the spirit monitor, said. "Parents have forgotten that Christmas spirit. That is why we are here. Our likeness in movies and stories. The tales the humans hear about us all here in the North Pole. It is to remind everyone of the joy of Christmas. The spirit of giving. The love we spread. And to remind the humans of His birth. How would we tell parents and charities that Santa won't make his way this year?" 

Through all their chatter, the sound of silver bells rang out. The elf's attention was brought to the rear, and they all turned towards the door. 

Donner and Prancer, Santa's reindeer, were in the doorway. Rudolph's red nose, oh so bright, illuminated the doorway.  

"It's true, Santa has COVID." Mrs. Claus said. 

The elves cried and screamed. They hugged one another again. The festivities had officially ceased. 

"What do we do?" Priscilla asked. 

Mrs. Claus looked about the room. She saw that the elves' motivation was gone.  

"First, we get it together. You're elves. Each one of you makes Christmas possible."

The group stood up and faced her. 

"Secondly, we get the word out to the Elves on the Shelves and communicate to them that they must somehow get the message to the parents, loved ones, guardians, and charities that they must provide that Christmas spirit this year. And do it without Santa's help." 

"I can communicate that," Saint Pierre exclaimed. He's the head of communication.  

"Third, I need someone to help me as I travel the world in Santa's place. Not to land, not to give out presents. But to be seen and become a beacon of reassurance for those frightened during the quarantine. Christmas (she paused)...is here. And we must spread love to all those who see us. No matter what, Santa is seen as hope, and there can be some normalcy this year. The sleigh and reindeer will remind them of Christmas's spirit and show the world that we did not abandon them. Santa will still be here, sharing peace and love and, most of all, recovery. And last but not least, let us no longer say that COVID word again. It's Christmas time!"

The elves cheered wildly! 

"Let's hear it for Mrs. Claus. She saved Christmas!" 

"Now get to work," Priscilla said. 

Saint Pierre ran to the communication room. Ronnie, the reindeer keeper, sprinted to the barn to prepare for the reindeer's trip. Beverly followed Mrs. Claus back to her room to help prepare for her trip. Danny got his favorite decorations and styled the outside of the sleigh. Franny grabbed her toolbox to repair the inside of the sleigh.  

As word got out to the parents, loved ones, and guardians to prepare for Christmas without Santa, a sense of calm began to refill the air. Christmas conquered despair. Christmas was to be saved, regardless of our fear of Cov- er, umm, well, that word we shall not say again per Mrs. Claus. Mrs because Mrs. Claus has let it be known that we are doing this together. Christmas has a new meaning of unity to all, and to all, a good night. 


Merry Christmas! 



Max and Blake enjoying tummy time together. October 31, 2020.


1,266 words 



 



© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print.  

Monday, October 26, 2020

The Black, a Halloween Story

You are here: Home » The Black, a Halloween Story 

Christopher and Nico enjoying Duffy's one of our favorite restaurants. October 25, 2020.



October 26, 2020



The Black derived from a black hole in space. A fragmented piece of space debris bounced off the rim of a black hole before it could be sucked in for eternity. It spiraled out of control until it made its way to earth. The piece pierced the earth's atmosphere and finally embedded itself into the wooded area of New York's Central Park on the Upper East Side. For decades, the piece absorbed the water and earth's nutrients as microscopic entities grew on its surface and began to morph into an entity, a plague.


The Black thrived in our world. Like bacteria in a humid petri dish, the plague was found to exist. It only needed a host. Luckily for The Black, Phil happened to be jogging by, and he would become its unwilling host after getting his ass kicked by some punks.


"Sorry, sorry," Phil said as he sidestepped the 2 men and 2 women blocking the path.


"Nice shoes, dummy," one man said.


Phil didn't hear him. He was lost in his mind during his jog. The noise-canceling headphones blocked out the world around him; however, they couldn't block the sucker punch to the back of his head as he passed one of the lovely ladies.


Turning back, Phil shouted," Hey, not cool!"


"What do you say to my lady?" The other male demanded.


"Look, I didn't do anything wrong for you to punch me in the back of the head."


"You did. You invaded our space."


Phil turned to continue his jog, and while his back was turned, another girl sucked and punched him in the side of the face.


"Booyah!" 


As the quad of men and women started to kick Phil's ass, he lay helpless on the ground. The Black watched from its rock. Phil rolled over and spooned the rock as he attempted to shield himself from the onslaught of punches to the head and body. He was called names like, "pussy, wimp." and "bitch." And those were the kind words.


The Black observed. Took in the words of the assailants. It monitored Phil's breathing. It could sense his weakness. He was a feeble man that could be manipulated.


Kicks and punches rained down on Phil. He was helpless. He did all he could other than fight back. And then it was too late with a kick to the back of Phil's head and the pressure applied to the rock. His neck broke. Unbeknownst to the violent 4, they killed. So they stopped to check why he wasn't moving.


"Yo, yo, yo, stop. He's done. He's done."


"Done, how?"


"Done as in that bitch may be dead."


"FUCK!"


"Let's bounce."


The 4 walked away, leaving Phil's body to rot, eaten by some strange park animal, turned into fertilizer, or become a piss magnet for dogs until someone saw the sorry sap dead. The four didn't realize they left the perfect host for The Black.


The Black moved in. Jumping on Phil's torso. Phil's lifeless body lurched up and forward. The Black poked a hole in his belly button and sunk its body inside of Phil. Phil gasped. There was life again.


"That dude, he, he had it coming, right?" One of the 4 killers said to ease his conscience regarding the killing.


"Yeah, agree," the female said. "If you can't handle New York, you can't make it anywhere. You know, like that song by Frank Sentra?"


"It's Sinatra, you idiot. And the song totally doesn't mean what you're thinking."


They all laughed.


"You're in my path," Phil said.


The quad stopped. One of the guys looked back and saw Phil looking at them.


Phil was bloodied. His nose was broken. Hair is disheveled. Clothing was saturated in sweat. Like tattoos, you could see the sneaker tread stamped all over his body.


"Haven't you had enough," one of the men asked him. "Are you looking to get your ass kicked?"


"Kicked? I thought we killed that mother.....".


"I'm not dead. And you're in my way," Phil sneered.


One of the 4 went to sucker punch him in the face again. Phil turned his face forward into the punch. The first struck his mouth. Phil inhaled his fist and began to chomp down. Eating his hand. Then, his wrist. Up his forearm. And then ripped off the rest of the elbow.


The other 3 shrieked until shock set in, then there was silence. The trio was so scared they were frozen in place by fear. A scream echoed through the park from the dude who couldn't believe he just lost his arm.


"You didn't think you'd sucker punch me twice?"


Phil reached out and inserted his fingers into the eyes of his victim. Lifted him up and threw his body into the other three, which sent them tumbling to the ground. Phil stood in one spot. He failed to let go of his eye socket grip from the bad guy who had killed him earlier. When he threw the body as hard as he could. The head detached. Phil stood there. The head dangling from his fingertips.


"Whoops". Phil said.


Phil tossed the head and gradually walked to the 3 remaining would-be killers. 


Phil lunged to the ground. The Black left Phil's body through the belly button. It moved towards the leftover 3.


The 2 women and 1 man wailed.


1 woman demanded, "Leave me alone! Asshole."


The Black inhaled all 3 bodies simultaneously. A loud whooping sound could be heard as each body was quickly moved into The Black's purview and consumed alive.


Hallowed screams were heard. Birds scattered. The trees swayed. The evening was in the twilight. The Black had just begun its purge.


948 words



All my boys, my loves, at home, safe and sound. October 10, 2020.






 



© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 


Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Technically Speaking in a Technical Time

You are here: Home » Technically Speaking in a Technical Time 


Nico, Mrs. Fusaro and Christopher enjoying the Gold Coast Train Museum. Sept. 26, 2020

September 30, 2020

I decided to write this after the attempted murder of the 2 L.A. Sheriff’s deputies in California. We owe it to ourselves, and our families, to remain safe, by not compromising are situational awareness during our down time. Although an ambush is an ambush and it may be impossible to see it coming. We can prevent being taken by surprise by not focusing on our technology and not compromising our hyper vigilance.

Information technology has infiltrated our police cars by way of computers and cell phones. Both have become a way of life for us in the law enforcement profession. Back in the day when tickets were written, most of us officers, would stand off to the side of the road, in a swale or on a sidewalk, and stroke out a citation. All the while keeping our eyes on the occupants inside the car. This method also gave us situational awareness by allowing us to see nearly 360 degrees around us.

Boy, times sure have changed.

These days, officers are glued to their computer and rely on this technology to perform our basic patrol functions from our CAD system, traffic crashes and ticket writing. Our cell phones have become a file cabinet of information that inundates us with unlimited information that most of us consume during our downtime while on duty. There is no question that social media has become a daily way of life. These distractions are making us technically unsafe.

Electronic distractions are new additions to our daily onslaught of radio traffic, situational awareness, and response to calls. There is no way to combat this deluge of constant information, other than minimizing our use of it during moments that we think we are safe but forgetting we are vulnerable.

If you have, or are currently, sitting in a parked police car in front of Walmart, Home Depot, or another business, in order to be visible to deter crime from occurring, well this is no longer an efficient method. Marked police cars are magnets for all sorts of questions from people or well wishes from citizens for our safety, and opportunities for criminals to make statements by attempting to hurt us. We must constantly be aware of what is happening around us, rather than burying our faces in our laptop. At least dayshift officers, who are paying attention around them, have the tactical advantage with the benefit of daylight.

Ambushes, like the one we saw over the weekend in Los Angeles, are not new to law enforcement. On November 13, 1990, Broward Sheriff Deputy Patrick Behan was shot and killed by 2 juveniles who were out riding bikes on a dare while, Deputy Behan wrote a police report in the parking lot of a Circle K regarding a retail theft.

Although ambushes are nothing new, they seem to be happening more frequently over the past several years. In a USA Today newspaper article titled Ambush -style killings of police were up 167% in 2016. (Hjelmgaard, 2016). “On average, one law enforcement officer is killed in the line of duty in the U.S. every 61 hours and more than 20,000 police officers have lost their lives in the line of duty since the first known line-of-duty death in 1791, according to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund.”

People have free will to do what they want. Opportunities for an ambush can occur when an officer has his or her car parked in front of a business to deter crime. These moments are where we can be most vulnerable (also car to car conversations.) Most of the time we are utilizing our technology by way of our smart phone, computer, or other technical means. Remember that you should not compromise your situation awareness by focusing on what is on your social media timeline while ignoring the real life occurring around you.

The attempted murder of the 2 L.A. Sheriff’s Deputies and the murder of BSO Deputy Behan, should be wake up calls for us to heighten our awareness of who, and what, is going on around us. You can do this by being technically safe in a technical time. You may very well save your own life.


 
Captain Imperfecto and newborn son, Max and Christophe at home. September 20,  2020.


 



© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Monday, August 31, 2020

You Have a Story, I have a Story, We All Have a Story




The boys. Nico (top left, Christopher top right, Blake bottom left and Max bottom right. August 2020)


I have a story. You have a story. Everyone has a story to tell. It’s important to know that because some people get so caught up in their own story that they tend to discard other peoples feelings.

My least favorite event is when you listen to someone’s story with caring ears and then offer insightful opinions that you correlate in relation to your story, the other person looks at you and callously says, “ oh? Well, anyway...”

Oh, anyway? Can there be another careless word by someone to use that demonstrates a total disregarded for your own story? It’s like telling you “who cares!” No one wants to be a party to that kind of selfishness.

People seem to be comfortable with trampling one other people feelings. But it’s okay because, “hey, I’m only being brutally honest. That’s what true friends do.” Oh? If that is being a true friend I hate to see how someone who really hates me is treating me.

The reality is that along with every story, everyone has problems. I would like to resolve my problems without you unloading your story if you don’t choose to reciprocate.

These thoughts on my mind are only stories to mention from a lifetime of experience. I thought it would be fun to lecture you about the current things, not, affecting my way of life at the present moment. The great thing about this blog is that I can vent and free my mind of the thought clutter.

Emotions very in individuals because feelings have been molded over the years through their life lessons, which place them on a very wide spectrum. You probably know someone right now who will text you out of the blue because someone else frustrated them. If you were the one who listens mainly and gives advice I would probably stop doing that. I can guarantee you; your voice of reason isn’t appreciated.

Alas, we are all humans. The ones who claim to be closed off are the ones that spew their emotions to you in private. You aren’t obligated to be the listener or a punching bag. I suppose you could just stop listening all together. I don’t know. I have my own issues going on, anyway.


***I hope everyone is staying safe. This blog was satire. I hope I laid it on pretty thick. But on a lighter note please let’s be kind. The world is out of control. Let’s get the world spinning correctly on its axis.



Max and Blake. August 30, 2020





© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.  

 



Friday, July 31, 2020

Searching for Burt Reynolds

You are here: Home » Searching for Burt Reynolds

Nico, Christopher, Blake and (Max)imilian at home. July 31,2020


July 31, 2020

I had Burt Reynolds on my mind the other day while I stood in the kitchen waiting for my morning coffee to percolate.  Just a random thought of a dead celebrity right before I left for work.  That’s a normal thought process during a pandemic, right? 

My generation did not own him, but I was a child and was able to enjoy movies like, Smokey and the Bandit, Stroker Ace, Sharky’s Machine, and then later when I was older, Boogie Nights.

Burt was the coolest guy I knew when I was a child. He had swagger, poise, and was suave. Burt made CB radios all the rage back in the late 70’s.  Everyone, including me, had to have a CB radio handle. Think, social media name. My CB handle was, Bandit 7.  He drove the coolest damn car, aside from a certain orange muscle car out of Hazard county. 

Burt wasn’t the first movie star to make muscle cars a must have.  That trend was started before the Smoky and the Bandit franchises. But you would be hard pressed to find a child, teenager or an adult who didn’t want that very sexy Pontiac Trans - Am he used as interference has his partner drove his 18-wheeler from Texas to Georgia.  And just when you thought the car couldn’t be cooler he added Sally Fields, a runaway bride, which enhanced the car and caught my adolescence attention.

I usually hear arguments about Tom Selleck and Sam Elliot's mustaches.  They were cool and all, but theirs had a fashion contribution to society.  Hell, I could add my dad to the list of fashionable.  He rocked a mustache nearly all my life.  

Burt Reynolds died in 2018 at the age of 82.  According to IMDB he blessed us with 184 movies and television appearances.  He had his own show, Evening Shade in the early 90’s.  


Burt was a product of the 80's for me. I have fond memories of the the 80's.  The music, television, movies, ect..  but the most selfish reasons I believe for thinking of Burt Reynolds so early this morning is that everyone I loved was alive and well during his heyday and my first memories of my family correlates with the memory of Burt and the movies he did.

Youth was king in the 80's and my parents possessed it. And their parents were alive and healthy. I can still feel the touch of my grandparents. His movies were a part of my childhood, like many of today’s stars, who have aged with me. Those stars are my parents age today. But man, oh man, the memories I carry with me as I age now.  When the good times seemed better and the bad stuff kinda fades away, as more time and distance fades and the future appears to be uncertain.

They say music can act as a soundtrack to our lives that will bring us back to simpler times.  Like a song being played on the radio, Burt Reynolds reminded me of a time when I was an innocent child. A child who wasn’t exposed to the chaos of life, especially in today's world that could hurt a child's emotions.  Maybe I can find a CB radio and use it as a time machine that will immerse my memories deeper into what once was a carefree time for me. 


Breaker, breaker 1-9. This is Bandit 7. I'm searching for Burt Reynolds. Is my childhood out there somewhere?  


Captain Imperfecto and newborn son, Max. July 26, 2020


 



© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Roads Are a Series of Zig Zag's

You are here: Home » Roads are a Series of Zig Zag's


A collage of pictures of my 4 boys.  Maximilian "Max", Blake, Nico and Christopher. (May 2020) 


June 30, 2020

Roads are a series of zig zags. Depending on how you zig, then zag, the results will indicate if you made the correct decision.

Traveling  in one place and traveling on a straight path to our destination sounds pretty ideal. No one wants heartache and hardships to define their life. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I suppose that is what people say.

But alas, life will throw us a curveball, which will create friction and cause us to zig zag and end up in a different location.

I guess there was hope that one of the moves would lead me to add something good and beneficial to my daily life. I feel that sometimes I earned, even deserved, good fortune. I’m a good guy. Can’t I zig zag into the lottery win? I guess I ought to play the lotto to test my theory.

When pain and suffering is thrown at me, I have navigated through that zig zag dilemma through hardship and growth. I even started this blog and threw all my emotions out there for the world to see. Did I ever imagine anyone would care? After all, everyone has their own story of ups and downs, good times and bad times, shouldn’t they zig zag into a lottery win?

I don’t know how luck finds some people. Did they zig zag at all? Is there a future price to pay for his or her success? Was their work ethic better than mine? So many questions and not enough answers. I know this blog is definitely too much over thinking on my behalf.

I can tell you I get tired of building but then, I don’t want to stop growing. I enjoy my job, but I want more free time to do what I want. I’d like to travel more, but enjoy the comfort of home. I want to do less, but I’m motivated to do more. I like money, and wish to earn more. I like that path I travel, but I don’t mind if I have to zig zag into another direction.

Levels of growth. Paths to travel. High roads to take. Decisions to make. Experiences that enhanced my travels. These things have meant everything to me, and I understand my issues mean little to many others in my life, who have their own problems.  I also can't expect perfect strangers, who read my blog, to care
 about my road to perdition. But maybe with a little understanding about me the reader will understand how common our travels can be.  Hopefully you can empathize more about my personal zig zags throughout my life, and another person's life, while understanding that most of us endure the same everyday problems.  Then we can use each experience as teaching tools to learn about how difficult it has been to solve a problem.  I may not be rich unfortunately, a majority of us our not, but I can tell you that some paths travelled are worn because there is more that binds us together than that which divides us. 

My path in life has had a lifetime of taking off in different directions.  I may not have been born rich.  Or bred from birth to be idolized, and have money thrown at me for starting a trend.  Those worlds are what I would consider to be, la la land.  Dining with the rich and famous may not be in my future.  A book deal probably isn’t close at hand.  But all of us should be grateful that our personal zig zags have extended our travels, to be here, in this moment of now, because regardless of status, eventually these roads traveled will be zig zaging without us. 

Captain Imperfecto holding his new son (#4) Max while Blake looks on. June 14, 2020.


© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.  

 



Sunday, May 31, 2020

I Stand Down, A note from the Author

You are here: Home » I Stand Down, A note from the Author






May 31, 2020


Since 2012 I have written a blog every month through now. Only missing one time. I will do it again for only the second time. In solidarity to a Nation in trouble and for people hurting. I stand down.



Picture courtesy:https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/open-ears-project/episodes/esther-perel-on-peace

 



© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.  

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Voices

You are here: Home » Voices


Nico and Christoper masking up during this unprecedented time. April 18, 2020.



We all have a voice that should be heard. I suppose it’s alright to have music speak for us when at times we can't find the words that best expresses the way we are feeling.  But we shouldn't hide behind those musical words.  A person should speak up about their feelings and let it be known if something makes them feel right inside their soul and also speak out when something in their life has gone wrong. 

During this pandemic people can hide behind their masks and speak without their lips being seen moving.  If a voice is heard but the mouth isn't seen moving.  Did the statement that was made ever exist?  Point is don't feel brave to speak up because now you have a mask hiding your feelings.  You might as well stay hidden behind you online avatar. 

My children provoke me to use my voice to speak out.  "stop fight with your brother."  "What did you just say?"  "You better not say that again!"

I also use my voice to command an active police scene that is fluid and dynamic.  "Don't move!"  "Get on the ground!"  "I don't want a donut!"  "Yes, I do." 

My point is that I know when to use my voice when need be.  The tone, the inflection, the happiness or sadness in tone is as prevalent as an emotion written all over my face.  I suppose poker players know how to hide their facial cues best. 

There really isn't a reason to hide or guard the way you feel.  Of course, one is better off to heed the old saying, "if you have nothing good to say, don't say it at all."  And that may be the best advice to give someone.  I wish more people on the Internet believed in that statement.  But you won't have to apologize for voicing your opinion on something positive.  

One’s voice is their true self.  There is no arguing against who said it and why.  Sure, we can regret what we say, but we can always use our voice to ask for forgiveness.  I don't think we use our voices to apologize enough when we are wrong.  

I may not be an artist and express myself with an art piece or have the tune to belt out a song that would best describe what I'm going through.  But I do have a voice to vent out my frustration about our current situation and tell you that I am right here with you through this COVID-19 scare.  And if there is one thing, I can assure it that I will lend my voice to support you through your hard times and scary feelings and say everything is going to be okay.  


Take care of yourself through this difficult time. 


Captain Imperfecto and family on a road trip around Lake Okeechobee. (just a drive) March 29, 2020.


 



Tuesday, March 31, 2020

Coronavirus Way of Life

You are here: Home » Coronavirus Way of Life


Christopher and Nico enjoying lunch during a simpler time. We wish we could do this now. January 18, 2020.

March 31, 2020


Things are not normal in the world today. My day to day activities have been taken away from me and yet it doesn’t feel that way.  I attribute that to the fact that I'm in law enforcement so I am required to work.  But as my State locks us all down and self-quarantine marches on into April, and maybe beyond, that lock down will be all too real.  I am afraid, but I am obligated to hold it together for my family’s sake they are depending on me.  Sadly, Coronavirus will no doubt alter our way of life long after this disease is gone.  I can only pray that most of us find a peaceful resolution at its conclusion.  


I feel bad for the people I took for granted in many industries that are affected by this pandemic.  So many people we know rely on the food and retail service industry but most of us took those industries and those associates, members, cast members, staff, help, loved ones, for granted.  We complained about how bad the service was and argued about the appropriate amount to tip our waiter or waitress but, that all feels ridiculous now. We destroyed their reputation on Yelp and disparaged them on social media.  However, allow me to enjoy some subpar meat and watered down wine if it means I can sit at a table, other than the one in my dining room, and allow me to throw my hard earned money at the server who is waiting on me hand and foot.  They will receive 4 stars if that means I can go out and forget about doing my own dishes.

Walking down the grocery aisles at the beginning of this disaster, I marveled at the empty food shelves. Living in South Florida and preparing for hurricanes has nothing on what’s happening today regarding the stock left on the shelves. But food choices bu American's are very prevalent if a corporation is looking to rid some brands. Oreo's are gone, except for those thin things they push, and Chips Ahoy cookies sit. Regular spaghetti is plentiful, right next to the bow tie pasta but darn it where is the rigatoni?  Lots of tuna fish sitting around.  I can't find a can of original baked beans but plenty of the other flavors left.   And vanilla coffee creamer is the bomb, obviously. There’s plenty of Gatorade but what I really needed was Caprisun. Can’t find Doritos but there’s plenty of corn chips. 

Comfort food will always be best.

There really is no way to prepare for this pandemic other than staying home.  But most of us are finding that hard to do.  Couch potato, anyone?  Not anymore we want to venture out and find toilet paper before it’s all gone.  I believe it is a way for us to be normal.  A sense of purpose and well duty (pardon the pun) every time we sit on the toilet and wipe our butts.  Psychologists suggest this is a way for People to settle our own mental state in search of some normalcy by searching for toilet paper. Many people may not give a sh!t about their assessment.  

My grandmother always sought some kind normalcy at the grocery store.  She would call me up on the telephone back in the day and asked me to take her grocery shopping.  This occurred almost nearly every day.  And almost all the time I gave her a hard time about it and yet I took her anyway.  I wish I could take her now.  That would offer me a little bit of normalcy.  I miss and love you grandma.

I think I will just walk aimlessly around my house, open the refrigerator door, stare at what’s inside, and then close it. 

I don’t fear my kids catching Coronavirus. If you ever had one of your kids in pre-school or pre-k, you’d understand why I would feel this way. They’d come home with every type of the flu at least monthly.  One would think their immune system is impervious to disease. Of course, though this is just mindless banter.  I do fear COVID-19 attacking my children.  When I get home from work I have to strip naked.  Throw my clothes in the washer ( this makes my wife happy) spray my shoes with Lysol and keep my wife and kids away until I shower.  Embracing reality and not my family.  It’s not like my parents 1960’s shows anymore. 

"Hi honey, I'm home."  <dog barks, sun is shining, family greets me at the door>

Speaking of my parents.  I worry about them.  My father is a baby boomer and is stubborn.  I can't smoke?  He would ask as he lights the cigarette anyway.  At least my mom is in isolation.  In fact, I probably won't see her until the year 2021.  

It would be a shame for them to lead a long healthy life only to be taken down by a disease that someone mistakenly gave them because they didn’t quarantine themselves. COVID-19 has a 14-day incubation period. That feels a little excessive but what does Coronavirus care?

I think I caught Coronavirus. Me, a pretty healthy, strong, 6’ 3”, 250 lbs. man was brought to my knees back in January because I couldn’t breathe. I was 1 day back from Spain after being there nearly a month.  I was laid out. If I didn’t spend so much money on my trip, I would have gone to the hospital one night due to my shortness of breath. But I was too cheap to spend $150 on an ER visit. How silly is that? I can’t breathe but I don’t want to spend the money. So, I crawled in bed. Got into a comfortable position. Called out sick from work and didn’t move. I had high fevers and chills and trouble breathing.  I suffered greatly. Thick mucus in my lungs that I could not clear out no matter how hard I tried to push it out.  It would cause me to throw up and become lightheaded.  I could not take a deep breath; I was scared but a part of me thought I was too strong for this and I can make it through.  When I came out the other side 7 days later, I still wasn’t 100% but I felt better enough to get out of bed, refreshed. But boy was I dumb.  I will seek medical help if I feel that way again.  So, should you.

Could any good come from this?  Maybe while us humans take a break from the environment by reducing our carbon footprint the earth is going to replenish and the Global Warming deniers will take notice and realize there may be some legitimate concerns. When wildlife sense less human activity in their habitat they can return to urban sprawl that us to be theirs. Like the dolphins in Venice. Icebergs may get a chance to reform.  Fish could have a moment to reproduce and fill our oceans.  Birds can repopulate areas they were chased away from.  We can only hope there is good in that.

People are scared because who knows where the Coronavirus will lead us and beyond?  For now, we can keep up good hygiene by washing our hands and not touching our face. Wash your hands thoroughly for a good 30 seconds, wash them every chance you can. Sing happy birthday to me at the top of your lungs.  You're quarantine.  People won't think your're crazy, yet.   And shelter in place when you don’t have to work or buy necessities.

Keep your loved ones close enough so that they know you love them.  Love them by being 6 feet away, maybe add another foot to the rule simply out of love.  It’s better to see them from a far then for them to be isolated from you on their death bed.  Love is enduring, love is fleeting, love is forever, you will hug them again.

Remember that when this is all over and you rush out your door.  Take this life lesson and appreciate the things we have because your day to day activities have been restored to you.  But remember those that were not so lucky and appreciate it even more.  Because we have seen how quickly Coronavirus has taken everything we enjoy away.  

Love, food, family, life was taken away from us in an instant.  I suppose this is the Coronavirus way of life, for now.   

Be safe everyone.  Like and share my blog if you enjoyed.  




Captain Imperfecto and family taking a drive around Lake Okeechobee while self quarantining in our SUV.  March 29, 2020



© copyright 2012- 2020 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved.