Unresolved Relationships

 Yes, we have all had them.  You know, the relationships that just did not work out.  For whatever reason, one of my past relationships has been haunting me via dreams.  Yes, it's been a LONG time since I have had any contact with him whatsoever, but he still keeps popping up.  

Perhaps it is my subconscious wanting to create an ending.  Perhaps it is my subconscious still tossing around unresolved emotions.  Perhaps he is trying to tell me something.  

Whatever the reasons we keep connecting in dreamland does not matter, things will not get resolved in this lifetime nor on this plane of existence.  I'm way down too far on my present path with a husband and family I am not going to trade in.  Now, ex-boyfriend, get out of my head and let me dream about something else - like winning the lottery.   

Plus, he was an asshole. I'm glad to have escaped.   

 

 

David Lee Roth

This past weekend I was with my CA sissy, daughter, and niece at Santana Row in San Jose.  We were celebrating my daughter's birthday along with her cousin's birthday as they are only 2 days apart.   Well, while our young and beautiful daughters went out clubbing, Sissy and I were up in the hotel room just chilling and drinking wine.  Somehow, someway, we got on the subject of David Lee Roth.  Don't ask me how.  Sissy showed me a recent video of David Lee Roth singing Panama.  I showed Sissy a the original Panama Van Halen video.

Wow.  What a difference 40 years makes.  

For you youngins who have no idea what I'm talking about, Van Halen was THE rock band in the early to mid 1980's.  Their album titled 1984 featured an angelic child-like cherub smoking cigarettes.  Lead guitarist Eddie Van Halen was every girl's dream guy.  David Lee Roth was their flamboyant lead singer and showman who always had a bevy of scantily clad beautiful women at his beck and call.  

Sadly, the band broke up and Eddie Van Halen is now dead.  David Lee Roth is also dead, but he does not realize it.  He is still trying to do live performances despite being well into his 70's.  David Lee Roth, who was once deemed himself Mr. Sexy, is now a sad shadow of himself.  

Let's take the song Panama.  Blue Eagle and I choreographed a dance for our high school dance line back in 1984.  Blue Eagle and I choreographed the Panama dance in my parents' basement - later to be brought to our dance line for us to compete with other high school dance lines - along with many football and basketball game half-time performances.  I know every beat of this song, every guitar chord of this song, and every vocal.  

Imagine my shock when Sissy showed me the most recent rendition of Panama performed by David Lee Roth compared to what I knew when the song debuted back in 1984.  Hey, David Lee Roth, it's long past time to hang it up....the leather pants outfit detailing the sadly lacking manhood parts that suggests a pencil somehow got caught in your crotch is not a good look.  It's pathetic.  Yes, now it's our turn to rip on you as you were very unkind to women who you viewed as less than a PlayBoy centerfold and did not have the time of day for them.   

My, how the tables have turned.  Below are the two videos of Panama of 1984 to Panama of 2025.   Copy and paste the below YouTube links into your browser.

https://youtu.be/fuKDBPw8wQA?si=P6v0XJu8eX8H3BLK

and then to this.....

https://youtu.be/sbo7Xwi9iCI?si=K6q8N1mbWuN24382

Coyotes

 The coyotes have been very vocal lately.  One of them will get to howling.  Pretty soon many of them are howling.  When it wakes me up in the middle of the night it sounds like someone is having a party and the howling is laughter.  

Aloha from O'ahu North Shore

 My daughter just turned 30.  Wait.  Let's do the math.  How can I be *that* old already?  This past weekend was my high school 40th reunion.  I was not there, and neither were my soul sisters.  Why?  My soul sisters were attending the wedding of Blue Eagle's daughter.    I was on O'ahu's north shore for a work meeting that extended into a celebration of my daughter's 30th birthday.  The 30th birthday had been planned for a year.  Otherwise, I would have been at Blue Eagle's daughter's wedding.  Last choice would have been my 1985 class reunion.  

I do not know why class reunions are relevant any more.  Once upon a time people actually looked forward to catching up with their old crushes and meeting their now spouses (damn, why did he marry THAT wretched toe rag!  I am soooooooo much BETTER).  We all wanted to go to show up how our exes missed out and make them envious at what we had become and what they could have had.  Missed it.  Boo-hoo.  Over and out.  Ex-boyfriend is now stuck with dowdy Sally Sad Tits while mine are still pert-n-perky.  Hey, ex-boyfriend, meet me in the coat room so you can remember?  Huh????  I'll show you.  Yeah, I see you looking at me.....(coat room door closes and the window fogs).  

I digress.  Really, class reunions are all about bragging.  Only the rich and the thin go back.  In this day and age of constant social media connection, I no longer see the point of subjecting myself to more bragging by classmates who have a chip on their shoulder and something they need to "prove" to the world.

Fact:  Social media has eliminated the need for class reunions.  We *still* can't shake the butt-head who was two lockers down from us and was in our biology 101 class thanks to "friend suggestions" from Meta AI that we all should revolt against.    

Here is today's truth.  Everybody posts pictures and documentaries of their every meal, vacation, surgery, trip to Costco, divorce, remarriage, job promotions, births of children and grandchildren (and of course how precious and perfect they are), trophies and medals their kids have collected, and detailed accounts of bowel movements that have required more than one flush, etc., on social media.  Oh wait.  I forgot *the* main social media topic:  MY POLITICAL VIEWS ARE SUPERIOR TO YOURS AND YOU ARE A COMPLETE IDIOT IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Truth bomb:  I can handle the happy family news, no matter how sappy,  way more than I can handle the political self-righteousness.  

I got off point.  Celebrating my daughter's 30th birthday on O'ahu was very spiritual.  We did not plan it to be that way.  The ancients welcomed her home at the north point.  I heard them rejoice at her return.  This will not make any sense to those who are convinced that this is the only dimension.  

 

The Funeral

 CHP's funeral was last Tuesday.  We showed up, sat in the back, and paid our respects to the (undeserving) widow and her exact likeness of a daughter.  

It was the SuperBETCH Jr., show complete with subtitles for anybody who might have a difficult time understanding that SHE was the one in charge and running everything.  Even the priest made a comment about her monopolizing everything.  I so wanted to change the channel.

SuperBETCH Jr. made the announcement that a luncheon was being provided at a local restaurant following the ceremony.  Sadly, the announcement was not a true invitation.  People felt the weird vibe and did not attend the luncheon.  Where did people congregate?  At our house.  We did not make any announcements nor try to hijack their luncheon in anyway.  We were simply exhausted from being exposed to the prolonged drama that was made even worse by SuperBETCH and SuperBETCH Jr.  We just wanted to go home after the funeral and feel our emotions.   

People just started showing up at our house.  Pretty soon we needed to order a bunch of pizzas.  Pretty soon it was a full-blown gathering.  There were tears shed and also some laughter along with some really amazing stories of CHP delivering a baby on the Golden Gate Bridge and stories from Balboa High School back in the 1950's.  

Come to find out that some of the people who actually did go to SuperBETCH's luncheon left in a hurry because of the awkward and cold energy.   We had more people at our house honoring CHP after the funeral (which was not planned) than SuperBETCH did at her fancy luncheon where napkins were counted out to an exact number and placed exactly 3 inches from the place setting.  

Yup.  Beer, pizza and salad still rule the day.  Hey, we even had some cheesy garlic bread.    It's even better if it is not planned.  

GFYS, SuperBETCH and SuperBETCH Jr.  So glad we will never have to see either one of you ever again.  BUH-BYE. 

 

 

Sometimes I Loathe Being Right

As the tarot cards predicted (coincidence or not) CHP died.  Quiet Rage has been, well, quiet.  There has been a lot to process in the last couple of weeks.  Tomorrow is the funeral for CHP.  SuperBETCH will not put anything in the paper until after the ceremony.  That is her right as a widow.  However, it robs CHP's friends, colleagues, and military buddies the opportunity to say good-bye unless someone in the family was allowed access to CHP's phone - in which nobody was.   

For whatever reason, SuperBETCH, along with her mini-me daughter SuperBETCH Jr., loves being the center of attention and in control.  She has always had ill feelings for anybody on CHP's side of the family.  I fit the description.  

What was troubling was beside the fact that I could not give a rat's behind about her treating me badly. but she treated my kids and my husband with such utter disrespect that it is appalling.  I will not go into details, but my husband was denied saying his final good-bye to his brother on his death bed.  Same with my kids.  Why does this bother me?  Because I saw CHP on Tuesday (I am the one cooking and bringing prepared meals to the immediate family as they are in no head space to even think about meals - it is just what Minnesota prairie women do to help).  

I went into the house and CHP was in his hospital bed and he looked so frail.  My daughter was also there.   We chatted with CHP and he still had his sense of humor.  CHP, with his weak and raspy voice, was the one who asked my daughter and I if we wanted a water or Dr. Pepper - not SuperBETCH.  SuperBETCH took the food that I cooked and fed it to herself everybody including SuperBETCH Jr., and her spawn.  I was good enough to supply food, but not good enough for a glass of water from SuperBETCH.  Whatever.  I politely declined the water and Dr. Pepper.  I did not want to trouble SuperBETCH for water (I bring my own water bottle anyway).  

Well...this was Tuesday.  For better or for worse, my daughter and I felt peace when we left CHP that day.  I feld in my heart CHP did as well.  We had some laughs, we reminisced about the old times, and it all ended on a good note.  There was also some past family drama my daughter sincerely apologized for her part in it.  The visit ended with CHP asking about my son and stating that his brother (my husband) and I did a good job raising the kids.  It made us all smile with the exception of SuperBETCH who sat in a chair with a puckered-up face that resembled a cat's arsehole.  

I told CHP I would bring over the old family movies that were taken in San Francisco and Sonoma in the 1950's when the home movie technology first came out.  He smiled.  He was looking forward to that.   

Things suddenly turned for the worse the very next day.  My husband went over to see him as he was going downhill quickly.   SuperBETCH denied him entry.  My husband is not some random stranger who appeared on the doorstep to sell solar and try to convert to a certain religion.  It's his BROTHER.  SuperBETCH denied him entry because she thought he was with a family member who is despised by all.  Lame excuse. Same with my son.  My son drove from San Jose as CHP asked about him.  He was also denied entry.  CHP died that night.  

Yes, death is very sensitive.  It is very personal.  Nothing brings up family drama like weddings and funerals.  

The funeral is tomorrow.  We will show up, be respectful, sit in the back, and blend in with the background.  We will not cause a scene.  

After the service tomorrow we will wash our hands of SuperBETCH and SuperBETCH Jr.   Just who are they going to call when SuperBETCH has a slip and fall and SuperBETCH Jr., can't lift her up?  They have alienated everybody.  

Get your popcorn ya'all.  The holidays have just gotten more and more interesting.  It's a good time to be out of the country or back in Minnesota.   

 

Hi How Are You? I'll Be Dead In A Few Days

 Things are quite uncomfortable at the home of Quiet Rage as of late.  Why?  My brother-in-law, CHP, was sent home from the hospital yesterday to die.  When my daughter was in Santa Rosa at the hospital visiting CHP on Sunday she noticed that there was a white dove on the hospital door room.  Do you know what that means?  It basically means a terminal situation and to leave the patient alone as family is coming in to say their good byes.  

Now CHP has been brought home.  He is still cognizant and wanted something to eat.  He is fully aware of his terminal situation.  The doctors and his immediate family will not let him eat anything as his intestines are blocked and would cause him extreme pain.  He is on a diet of broth.  

Of course, this angered CHP to no end.  He knows he is dying.  He wants a milk shake.  He does not care if it causes him pain or causes him to die two days earlier than predicted.  He just wants a bloody milk shake to taste and ENJOY.  GIVE CHP THE MILK SHAKE.  The other thing that angered CHP was the placement of the hospital bed in the living room.  He thought he was coming home to sleep in his own bed.  Nope.  There is also the presence of 24/7 hired care so SuperBETCH can at least get a few hours of sleep.  

CHP is depressed and angry.  Who would not be depressed and angry when faced with the reality of your own death within the next 14 days.   

My husband went to see him today and spent a couple of hours to hang out with his only surviving brother.  CHP was grateful that my husband was there.  Long story short, they have a very complicated relationship.  At least both of them have realized there is no time for fussing or fighting over past hurts.  

Here is where it hits the soul.  CHP asked my husband to hand him his phone.  CHP is still old school and also has a Rolodex of sorts.  CHP asked my husband to dial the phone for him so he could reach out to his old Marine Corp buddies, his old CHP partners, childhood friends, etc., to tell them he has days to live.  

Imaging being the recipient of that phone call.  "Hi, you have been very important part of my life.  I wanted to let you know how much I have enjoyed our relationship.  I will be dead in a few days.  I want you to hear it directly from me instead of reading it in the obituaries."   

Worse, imagine being the person making the phone call.