fear is what keeps us here...

“ I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

Fear is a funny thing. It can motivate. It can cause people to freak out and start crying. It can cause people to rise above what they thought they could accomplish and do great things. It can give people a cheap thrill-hence the huge popularity of both thrill rides and scary movies. (one time me and my small girl were having a father-daughter day and we decided to go to the movies. It was just when Saw had come out. I lifted her in my arms, nestled her head on my cheek and asked the ticket taker person, “Two for Saw please.”
She reacted with abject horror and I laughed and said, “Come on man I jes kidding.” Hilarious. This is fun for me.
I have been afraid many times in my life. I am still scared of certain things.

Clowns- dude clowns are freaking scary as hell. My mom can tell you I had a visceral reaction to clowns. First off, they ain’t funny. Has anyone ever in the history of clowndom EVER laughed at clown’s crazy antics? I didn’t think so. They are obviously all felons on the lam. Or why the crazy make-up? For reals.

Bridges- yeah laugh if you want to. All I know is that when I am on a bridge I am literally threads away from an icy death with the sounds of my dying family echoing in my ears. I don’t like the fact that my life is dependant on the fact that some factory worker on the Good-year assembly faked the results of a drug test. Hate em, man.

Hard work. That was for my dad. Sounds like something the old curmudgeon would say huh?

Anyway the first time fear caused me to rise above myself was when I was twelve years old. I was in my bed in the basement ,which is a totally scary room anyway (I once spent an entire evening freaked out and immobile because I thought there was a witch in the room with me. My parents were so far away (two stories up) that a witch could easily roast, flay and eat me with impunity, my shrieks echoing throughout the basement, unheeded by the rest of my family, who were cocooned in their master suite blaring the entire “Die Hard Trilogy”…oh yeah it was a coat rack.
Where was I?
Oh yeah. I was woken at about one by my father opening the door and pressing the cold steel of a butcher knife into my soft pre-pubescent hands. He whispered to me-
“There are Hispanic gangsters outside”
You need to go around the one side, I will go around the other.”
I nodded wordlessly. Our house is a dome. (they were the hotness for a while in 1976 man. Everyone who was awesome lived in a geodesic dome. I never felt weird or anything about it. )
So his plan I guess? He would go around one side, I would sneak around the other side and I guess we would meet and just slash the m-fers to bloody pieces. In retrospect my dad was no General Patton when it came to militairy strategerizing.
I remember that trip vividly. The brush, while in daylight was welcoming albeit a bit scarce, at night turned malevolent and threatening. My pulse quickened at the though of fighting these gangsters who were casing our house for their mis-gotten gains. I crept, a veritable shadow, a night stalker running on hate. I was a panther, a lithe killer. I came around the stairs on the left and, raising my weapon, was prepared for a to the death battle. I was greeted by my dad kinda shaking his head, rubbing his beard.
He said, “I am on this new migraine medicine. Go on back to sleep.”

And you thought the whole donut in milk thing was weird.

yet again...firefox beats stupid safari...whatev...

Ok ok I get it. It is time to write a blog. Geez with all these Latshaws writing blogs you really hope there won’t be a blogjam.
Ouch. You know I told my wife the other day, after like the 35th horrible pun, that I really only use the best ones. I have hundreds going through my head all day, every day. I will take a word, examine it for possible uses and or applications in “funny” areas- funny haha not funny crazy or pervy you know. Although sometimes the twains do meet…speaking of twain, jess I am hoping you are using the quote I gave you, it is fantastic. Mark my words! I can’t stop…
Little about myself..I am 36 which seems unfair. No way I should be that old and I prefer to think about myself as late twenties. The only problem with late twenties is that your kids are younger too. I like when my kids get older. Babies are annoying and so clingy you know…
I am a radical. A radical is born when a liberal gives up. I believe in every conspiracy you got, including the one by David Icke who thinks that the ruling elite are actually giant reptiles. Awesome. You gotta be pretty special to float that idea to the general public and be offended if people do not take you seriously. Go ahead google that guy. I will wait.
Awesome right? Wow. Anyway, I am a radical. And also a Christian. Dare I say radical Christian? That sounds scary! That just means I read Howard Zinn and C.S. Lewis. I don’t believe that Jesus is a gun-toting patriotic Republican. I am actually pretty sure he is against the death penalty (as most people who were unjustly killed using the death penalty are probably anti-death penalty. You know what, even those JUSTLY killed using the death penalty are probably against the death penalty. I would be.)
I am a musician, artist, ball-room dancer, and viscous Madden afficianado. I can be competitive but stopped really being so after I lost the ability to win at anything. I mean anything. Kinda sucks.
I was in a band. For reals. I know what you are thinking…in a band…his poor wife…he sat around and played video games all day…no we were a real band and made real money…more money than we should have….the most we ever made for one show is my annual salary now…anyway toured the world and not like most Americans when I say world I mean places where they have funny colored money. (World Series? World Champions? Come on!)
The whole time I was in a band I also did construction with my father in law rick. Great Rick story….
We were a unique construction crew. Our foreman, Scott, used to stop everyone working to point out a tufted ventricual titmouse, a rare bird. Politically we were left of center and would discuss the days politics….it was right around when Ralph Nader was running for president. Rick had a folded paper in his hand and a sandwich in the other.
“Hmmm this is interesting…”
“Turns out Ralph Nader is the son of Lesbian immigrants!”
That is amazing! Lesbians? Immigrants? I was astonished! This is huge. I spent a whole week telling everyone I met this astonishing news. “I know! I didn’t believe it myself!”
It was early in the day when Rick pulled me aside…”Uh, it was Lebanese immigrants..don’t know where my head was..”
Well I sure did!

Now I am an employment consultant. I work with people with disabilities, which inherently makes me better than you. Naw, jes kidding…
I like to ask questions you can’t answer. I like to make you make hard decisions (hanging upside for full day, or one hour chin-deep in poop) I can’t stand it when you don’t play along. My wife, “Well, neither. Why do you think of this stuff? EW.”
I am curious about you and about human nature. I have two degrees English and history which I say means I can write well about things that no longer exist.
I like cirque de’ soloeil. Disney is the bomb. World, not Land. EAST COAST!