Back in the day, the three musketeers were inseparable. My cousin Melanie, my brother and I. All separated by one year, all birthdays in December. The unified front against our cousins in Monessen. While Mel lived about 40 minutes away (in a slightly more upscale neighborhood), we always managed to spend a ridiculous amount of time together. Summers were especially awesome. We lived in a very rural area where the days were very long and filled with fun times. Our yard was huge as our grandparents lived right next door. (Great for escaping the house, terrible for sneaking out or sneaking people in.) They had a dog that was as big as a house, and being the Sagittarius that I am, I had a bond with that dog like no other. They tell me that I used to ride around on her back like she was a horse.
I recall one early Saturday afternoon in particular. I knew that Mel was coming to the house and I couldn't wait. I had friends around the house, but then, family was way more important. (Unfortunately, the musketeers, or at least one of them, went their separate ways and forgot how important family was and is.) I waited oh so impatiently to see my aunt's car come down our street.
Finally! They're here!
I ran out of our house like the proverbial bat out of hell. Full speed ahead down through our yard and into my grandparents yard. I was cute, I was graceful, I was small, and I was muscular. I was excited. I was covered in dog shit on my entire right side because in my haste, I didn't notice that the dog had dropped a bomb in my path. I was running full speed and planted a foot directly in poop and then tried to turn a corner. I was a running back on wet turf, tackled by number 2, Doo Doo Brown.
And this, this is the beautiful thing about family. There was no embarrassment. There was no mean laughing. We all laughed together as badly as I smelled. I took a shower, changed clothes, and play resumed like it never even happened. I guess that's how you know someone is family. They still love you no matter how much shit you're in. 🙂
This morning, as I read the newspaper, I came across the sad news of John Bettis' passing. I had never had the honor of meeting Mr. John Bettis, but I am sure that every aspect of his kindness, respect and generosity flowed through his son, Jerome who I have had the honor of meeting.
I have no doubt that the Bettis' are a tightly knit family and this loss is so great, but they are strong. They are together. They will survive. They will honor the memory of their father and husband. They will keep the memory of this great man alive.
Jerome, I know that you will not read this, but I hope that you know there are millions of us around the world that grieve with you and your family today. Hundreds of thousands of us who have been here, through the loss of a loved one, and offer you our strength and our compassion.
To the Bettis family, rejoice in the time that you had with this wonderful man, reminisce about the lives that he touched, and find peace when you can. It IS harder to lose someone suddenly, but a passing without a long period of pain and suffering, in the end, is easier on your heart, mind, and soul.
I cry for you all because your family has touched my family. My father was a tremendous fan of Jerome, the Steelers, and football before he passed, and he gave to me that love of football. Jerome, you were never any less than wonderful on the occasions when I met you and you made football more personal for me and for everyone with which I would share a 'Jerome story'. I grieve with you and for you and hope that in this trying time, you can all rally around each other and be the championship team that Mr. John Bettis was the head coach of. God bless you all.
What's your favorite heartbreak song?
Submitted by esta86.
Whether my heart is broken or not, To Make You Feel My Love has always been a tearjerker.
When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love
When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love
I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong
I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love
The storms are raging on the rollin' sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain't seen nothing like me yet
I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love
What do you do when you are unhappy with your job? Look for something else? Try to make it fun by taking the screws out of people's chairs? Replace all the regular coffee with decaf? I suppose the first one is what to do. The question then becomes: Is it time to switch fields? The answer: Maybe.
Here's the problem. I don't enjoy what I do, I'm not good at what I like, and (for various liefstyle reasons) I can't do what I love. Let's work backwards. I love bartending. It's a ton of fun, you meet great people, and the money is spectacular. Unfortunately, I reside in the Miami area which means it doesn't really matter if you have 10 years of experience, if your boobs aren't twice the size of your head, you don't get hired. Might I go under the knife someday and have boobs about half the size of my head? Possibly. (Not to get a job and not to fit in here in Miami and not because my boyfriend wants me to – because he doesn't – but because I, the ultimate tomboy, have maybe grown out of my tomboy ways and would like to shoot for feminine. So shoot me.
Bartending's strike two is the hours. I used to be quite the night owl, but anymore I can't stay up past 11 as sad as that is. I'm sure I could readjust, but I don't think my family would. And speaking of the family…
Strike three – most bars aren't going to offer health insurance, 401k, vacation, or any of the other perks (besides free booze) that go along with corporate America. I might be able to work around strikes one and three, but strike two carries the most weight.
I'm a super computer nerd. I like to build websites. I have a wicked sense of humor. Unfortunately, I have the artistic skills of a 3 hour old puppy. This is bad for a web designer. I'm hoping that I can learn this skill, but I fear that it is something that one is born with and I got a sarcasm skill instead. If I sleep with art books under my pillow, will I wake up the next Nagel, Kugler, or Picasso? (Yes, I like the abstract stuff.)
I work in an office. Some people are nice, some are not. I know that this I cannot change. My job is kinda mindless and I like to believe that I'm smarter than this. My constant task is to figure out what to do. I guess MasterCard is right.
Gas and tolls to get to work: $100 a month
Health insurance for you and your child : $300 a month
Having a job you actually love: PRICELESS
I am, what most would call a good driver. In my 16 years of driving, I've been pulled over about 5 times and ticketed about twice. I've wrecked twice. One completely my fault where I was late for work, driving too fast, and tapped the lady in front of me at about 5 mph. (Of course this did not stop her from trying to get $10,000 from my insurance company for damages to her person and her car. Just for future reference, lady, they take pictures of the cars. My car didn't have as much as a scratch on it and neither did yours so quit trying to SCAM!) The second wreck involved only me, my car, a rainy day, and a freshly oiled stretch of pavement. (Yes, in PA, they OIL the roads. Oil + water = skid, slide, BANG!)
Last month, I got a ticket for failing to come to a complete stop before making a right on red. Again, I was in a hurry. So much of a hurry that I completely missed seeing the cop. Oh well. I took it like a man. Or at least as much of a man that's possible as I'm not a man. Did I aggravate the officer? Probably. Did his question, the ever popular, "Do you know why I pulled you over?" deserve to be answered with "Because I cut you off?", probably not. At least he didn't nail me for not having my seat belt on.
This was my first ticket in FL and lucky for me (NOT), the most expensive one outside of speeding. DON'T RUN A RED IN FLORIDA PEOPLE! Anyways, $200 later, I figure I'd better take the traffic class so that the points aren't added to my license and therefore jacking up my insurance rate. As I've been going through this class online, I finally came to a part that everyone who gets on the ramp to 836 east off of NW 27th Ave northbound between 7:20 and 7:30 am should know about:
Drivers should be advised that highway on-ramps are for entrance to and preparation for highway driving. Drivers must no longer travel at the drastically reduced speeds suitable for city driving. Drivers are called upon to increase speeds to that of the highway traffic and use the on-ramp and subsequent merging lanes as a means to get into the flow of highway traffic. The driver is called on to signal, increase speed, and merge safely into traffic.
Do you understand what this means, people? Just in case you don't, let me break it down for you. We have a few hundred feet of space to get up to the SAME speed as everyone else that is late for work. Said late folks are NOT going to slow down so that you can creep, grandma-style into traffic. You are going to cause a major accident. In case that wasn't clear enough, let me elaborate. Everyone else is going between 65 and 150 mph. I use this ramp to have my Ricky Bobby moment for the day, wherein I blow out all the dirt that's hanging out in my injectors by redlining it in first through about third till I get up to speed. Now, what do you think happens when you, turtle shell, are in front of me?
I am deprived of my Ricky Bobby moment for the day.
My baby Honda must choke on dirt for an extra day.
You PISS OFF everyone within a half mile radius of your car.
Quite often, you cause an accident.
You may not think that numbers one and two are important, but ask any 6 year old how important number one and number two are, and even they will know the answer.
So please, Mr/Ms. Honey-I'm-So-Scared-To-Drive-Here-Because-Everyone-Is-Going-So-Fast, either get on the track or stay in the pit!