Holy High-Maintenance Batman

I guess I should tell you this story actually took place a week or so ago, I just have not had time to tell it yet. To start out I should tell you Jen and I are in a small group with several couples from our church. We meet twice a month and watch a different video series, some pertaining to marriage others just study different facets of Christianity. Right now we are doing a video series called Laugh Your Way to a Better Marriage. I would highly recommend this series to every person on the planet. It doesn't matter what your religious beliefs are or if you are even married. And I know what your thinking and no it not preachy, or a men are wrong or women are wrong kinda thing. It just goes through the differences between men and women and the problems we have relating. The answer is not that we need to change, but simply understand the other. Enough of my soapbox back to the story. So we are discussing after our segment for that night how some of the times role are reversed. For example some friends of ours are flip flopped in certain ways. He is extremely clean and she is extremely cluttered. I got to thinking how Jen and I might be reversed in certain ways. In my time of contemplating I found nothing. I am incapable of multitasking, she is incapable of single tasking. I react to situations with with pure logic, she reacts with logic and emotion. I can turn my brain off, she can not. Then it hits me! First let me reiterate my philosophy that there is no such thing as reinventing one's self. You can have revelations about yourself, but reinventing is crap (I won't go into this if you want to know my stance read the first blog The Reality of Fiction). I find I often have revelations about me, but any way. I get to thinking I have a waaaaay more clothes than Jen. I have a much newer car than Jen. I have two gaming systems. I have every accessory to go with those systems. When in doubt I will always pick the more expensive of any item. I have to have whey protein for lifting. I have to have expensive shoes for any sport I choose to play. My workout outfits have to match (I won't wear Nike shorts with an Adidas shirts). Almost every polo style shirt I own is Ralph Lauren (22 was the last count), and every pair of jeans I own is. I have every techy gadget know to man. I smoke expensive cigars. I looked at Jen and said " Oh my God, I'm a high-maintenance hoe". She looked at me and said lovingly " Yeah, you kinda are".

I strongly suggest you take 10 minutes and watch thisclip and tell me what you think http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuMZ73mT5zM

Mortality Combat

I woke up the other morning and I was faced with the one thing every man dreads. And no it's probably not what you're thinking. I don't know what you are thinking, but I'm pretty sure it's not it! Most men will understand this and most women will need to at some point. Yes I am going some where with this, be patient. I woke up and was faced with my own mortality. All women at this point believe I'm speaking of death, I'm not. I'll go out on a limb and say most men are more afraid of losing their youth than actually dying. When we watch Superman, Batman, Star Wars, etc, we don't see the fiction, we see the reality. There is not a man out there that at some point did not believe he could leap tall buildings or fly( I'm sure some even tried) or yield a light saber and defeat Darth Vader. You see every man believes he is James Dalton or Wade Garrett from Road House. It's part of our nature! I'm 32 and I still believe that if I lose 20 or so pounds I'll be able to dunk a volley ball (I say volley ball because I have small hands and can't palm a basketball). I have not accomplished this feat since I was 18. Now science tell us at 19 we start to lose some of our spring and I have a left ankle (my jumping ankle) that is a few ligaments short of a picnic, but deep in my heart I still believe. You can't convince me I couldn't still run a sub 16 min three mile. I'd most likely pass out after the second mile and even then be no where near that pace. You can call me delusional! I call me a man. I'm really look at celebs today. You couldn't convince Steven Tyler he's too old to wear stretch pants. You can't convince the great Michael Jordan, at the age of 46, that he couldn't still be the best in the NBA. And I know for a fact that you can't convince me that with a little practice I couldn't be the greatest guitar player ever. The truth is every man is Roy McAvoy from Tin Cup. We'd keep dropping it because we can make it over that water. In fact even that was real. It's based on Gary McCord who needed a birdie to win the Champions Tour. The only thing that stood between him and that birdie was a water hazard. He took his first shoot and splash into the water. So he did it again..... and again...... and again until he finished the hole with a 15. Any way I play basketball on Thursdays. I hadn't played in a while and when I woke up the next morning I felt like someone had kicked the crap out of me. I guess rightfully so I had the bruises to prove that, but I guess I'm not getting any younger. Don't get the wrong impression I still think all 5 foot 8 inches of me is 7 foot and bullet proof. I guess the point is to all the women out there if you see your man getting older and he can do the things he once did but tries, don't get frustrated he doesn't know better!

My Revelation

First off let me just note my title is in honor of the fact Scrubs has returned to me. This also sorta illustrates the point I'm trying to make this week. You see today is my 32 birthday. Not that that is a big deal (once you get past 30 it's just a number), but I believe most of us step back and look at our lives on birthdays. What I learned scares me! let me state as I have before that I have a healthy opinion of myself. I'm not arrogant or narcissistic, but I am pretty confident. I've always considered myself to be a guys guy. I like football and beer. I enjoy explosions (but who doesn't). I lift weights and play basketball. I could always go for a good cigar or a comedy (as long as romantic is not associated with the comedy part). I wouldn't trade my Mustang Gt for anything because I get a warm fuzzy feeling when it gets squirrely on the ice (maybe that's just stupid). Oh yeah I was making a point! So any way I'm getting all Manped (m-amped if you need a pronunciation) about myself, when certain thoughts start rolling in. I am a huge Star Wars fan. In fact when I'm sick that's all I want to watch. While we're on the topic of sick, I always revert to like 2 years old. I won't even as for the movies by their full names. I mutter, in a almost dead voice, "Wanna watch Jedi" or "Empire" (I got no love for A New Hope while sick) and Jen has to put them in the DVD player for me. I guess that's not real manly. Oh and don't get me started on video games. I could sit for hours in my gaming chair and kill things or play Madden (that's not bad though). I have all the Wii-cessories (steering wheels, tennis rackets, wireless nunchucks) and all the bluetooth gadgets for the PS3 (like the headset so I can talk to the people I'm playing with online). Um scratch that last thing! I no longer want to admit that! Oh and for those of you that read my first post The Reality of Fiction, the whole rock star-Guitar Hero thing, well all of you will be so excited to know we got World Tour and I got a mic stand so I can now sing and play my plastic guitar at the same time. Ok not as cool as it sounded in my head. Then I realize I've listened to Coheed and Cambria for a month now. I've been trying to figure out the whole storyline. I've even read the comic books to figure it out................................................................................
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............................................................................. I'm a nerd!

Ramblings and Rants

First of all, I would love to say thank you for all the comments on the last blog. It was amazing to feel all the love you have for me and Jen. I can only hope you all know the love we have for all of you. I do however have mixed feelings about the fact I can admit to a squeegee collection with not a single mention of that from the peanut gallery. It's like as a collective group you all said "It's Deaton....... Yeah that makes sense". I guess with all the information I've dealt in the last three installments I have failed to mention that I consider myself to be a closet intellectual. Which just means I will not start a deep meaningful conversation, but if one is brought to me I'll indulge. Here lies my next confession, I'm an Internet whore. I love to read opinion articles. Not to help shape my ideals though, I prefer to sit in my glass house for a few moments and chuck boulders. I don't know if you are aware of this but we are surrounded by stupid people with a voice. I read one today blaming the shooting at Toy-R-Us during Black Friday on the recession. Now if this was two women fighting over the last of the food for their hungry families I could understand that assumption. On the other hand if a woman busts a cap in another woman over a Polly Pocket, (or what ever the craze is this year) I'm pretty sure a weak economy didn't cause that. Greed??? Yeah!!! Chemical imbalance??? Maybe! Inbreeding??? Good chance!!! You see I'm guessing by that ideology if the stock market was up Mrs. Quick Draw Mcgraw doesn't feel she needs the nine mil for her trip to Toys-R-Us. Then enter my next point the Toys-R-Us was in California and the Wal-mart was in New York. I know you're asking what does that have to do with anything? You live with the crazies you deal with the consequences. I don't go to tractor pulls because I don't like camo, Pabst Blue Ribbon, or hooking up with family members. I don't go to California because I don't want to die for Mario Cart.

This brings me to my next question. Does anybody actually care about the Grammy's or any award show anymore? It's like a celebration of who could produce the most consistent mediocre crap. Paul McCartney and James Taylor for best male vocal? Name one song either has sung since 1990. If you really want to laugh take a look not only at the categories, but at the acts chosen. http://news.yahoo.com/s/eonline/20081204/en_top_eo/71618;_ylt=AiJhXgLx859co5yI9k1jJQ1xFb8C). Metallica is up for best rock instrumental, best rock song, and alternative album of the year. Of course that should naturally put Coldplay, The Eagles, and Radiohead in hard rock and The Mars Volta in the metal with Motley Crue? Motley Crue is up for an award? I am so confused!!! I actually believe this might have more to do with gun fire than the recession. First off I think you should have to listen to the music before you find a category or even nominate it for an award. Second on my list is shouldn't you have a panel of experts in each specific category to pick nominees and choose a winner? I think the new Coldplay sucks out loud, but I won't pretend that's my favorite type of music (evidently I don't care much for hard rock?) so how can I judge it. I just don't live in a world where if you are harder than The Eagles you're metal. Maybe I should also mention James Taylor is up for best dance recording. And the winner in the category of Award Show with a their head so far up their anal cavity they have indigestion is.................. The Grammy's!

Fine I'll admit it, I'm a little high strung. It is the holiday season. The time for giving, the time for families to come together, and the time in which random people pack like sardines into shopping centers. What does all this mean? That's right loads of complete strangers touching me! I have no germ issues, just personal space issues. Don't worry though I don't own a gun. This time of the year brings out the best in all of us! It leaves me with the tough questions like: Would I rather that lady let her kid run into me 50 billion times or hear it scream at decibels not imaginable after she smacks it? Is it better to deal with the customer service representative that ignores me or the one that's rude and won't answer my questions? Would I rather be touched by 20 total strangers or watch the Grammy's? (I know I'm random today, but I trying to tie it together. I'd rather walk you in circles than in completely different directions.) Instead I had an eppifany! I am making Jen's family Christmas gifts this year. I am still going to go out and shop for her! Just think about how much fun it would be if you didn't have to fight the crowds and got to do something creative. How much more relaxing and enjoyable would this time of year be if didn't have to compete in what are they getting me what should I get them genre. Instead you could just have fun with each other. I'll end with a little story. Last year at Christmas (and you know who you are) some friends of ours come over because we had bought gifts for their child. When they arrived they enter our house with a gift in their hands. All I could think of was crap they didn't have to get us anything. We hadn't bought for them just their child. I can't tell you the relief and enjoyment I got from their gift of slippers.

Deaton The True Non-Hollywood Story

PART III: THE CONCLUSION

So here we are it's 1999 and my life is just about to do a one eighty on me. You see the last three years had been fairly turbulent. I was engaged for a short time. Which was one of the most chaotic relationships I've ever had and trust me it ended with a bang! In her defense she was later diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and without this relationship I don't meet Tiffany. After the big bang Tiffany and I became good friends and not long after that I began dating another one of Tiffany's friends. It was a radical departure from my last relationship. I went from someone who couldn't keep her opinion to herself straight to a person with no opinion at all. We dated for a year and then she started dating someone else and that's how that one ended. Looking back on it now I see how bored we both were but at the time it was devastating. During the time we dated I had become close to Brad and Tiffany, but I figured I keep my friends and she keeps hers as the break-up agreement (which was not actually discussed by us as I refused to talk to her after I found out). This was in September of 98 and I think saw them twice in the next year. I know once at Christmas and once during the summer, but I think that's it. I had gone in a new direction. I had new friends, new places to go and old habits to revisit.

With the fall out of my past relationships and friendships Tropical Storm Deaton began to gain strength. It started out slowly though. The first month started with my first tattoo. And for the record not only is it a Smashing Pumpkins album cover it's a man and a woman in a picture frame, which was my reminder I wouldn't always be alone. By the end of that month I could no longer handle feeling that I had given all I had to these things and was left with nothing but betrayal and emptiness. So I did what every self respecting 21 year old does ............... for the next year I got high everyday and on weekends drank myself into a oblivion. Oh and the occasional weekend of hallucinogens. You know the problem with suppressing all your feelings is they don't go away, they just intensify. Honestly I had a lot of great times. I hate to admit it, but I did. I was always the life of the party and people wanted to be around me. All was good, well until I was left alone. Here is the greatest truth I ever learned the only person you can't hide from is you. I could never convince myself that I wasn't lonely or that the people who loved to be around me actually loved me. On the outside I was fine, but on the inside I was becoming a shell of the person I once was. Lonely people generally have two choices they can make. First choice is to become needy. You try to compensate for the lack of effort by the others. The second is to become withdrawn. You pull away to see if they will do the compensating and if not you get to write them off. I'm much better at the second option. So I guess it's not surprising that I didn't see my roommate tail spinning. The end of that era was a party at our house that I was not even in town to attend. It was evidently enough to get us evicted and brings us to September of 1999.

We had two weeks to get out of the house and I did not want to move home. So I did what every great magician does after disappearing, I reappeared. I tracked Brad down and all I said was "Man I have to find a place to live". Brad immediately said " When do you want to move in"? Now these are strange words from a man who is getting married in less than a month, but Tiffany concurred and I moved in. What ensued was pure insanity, but at the same time for me it was the rebirth of my sanity. Let's see where to start? Well I moved most of my belongings into my parents sun room and showed up with just my suitcase full of clothes and my windshield squeegee collection. That's right I said windshield squeegee collection. When I was drunk or high and the person carting me for the night stopped to get gas I'd steal every squeegee from the gas station. Why I don't know, but I probably had hundreds (Brad or Tiffany will have a better estimation). I also never remember doing laundry, though I'm sure at some point I did. They only had two chairs for the kitchen table so I claimed a five gallon bucket as my chair and refused to sit on anything else. I know there are a million stories about the first couple months, I just need a little help with them. I was coming out of a fog at the time. The best analogy I can give you is this, in our youth we often treat our lives as though we are in the movie Speed. We live at such a fast pace for fear that we will miss out on something and the metaphorical bus will explode. However at this point I was forced to slow down and what I discovered is I had never taken time to enjoy anything. I had never just stepped back to see things for what they were. This includes relationships, friendships, things I had been through, but most importantly me. That's when the second tattoo was born. It's a sun with the words "And we all shine on -John Lennon-". It's to remind me that things always get better. It was some time in December I moved out. I knew a young married couple would need space. I was still over there all the time though. In April Tiffany landed a job in St. Louis and moved down there. .Brad stayed to finish classes in Decatur, so I moved back in. Brad and I had pizza or cheese burgers every night, and we drank a lot of beer, and watched a lot of South Park, and played the South Park game on the N64. At the end of the semester Brad was on his way St.Louis, but not before our last big Decatur throw down. That's right my Non EPA bonfire. That night we drank way to much and threw everything we could think of in the fire. My squeegee collection, Pierson's basketball, couch cushions, the recycle bin (which made the worse black smoke), my brilliant idea of bottle rockets, and lots of other stuff. I'm pretty sure I stripped, and I think Brad chased me around the yard with a rake. If I did strip I'm sure I sang to the neighbors too. It was a fitting end to that era, and the beginning of a very different one. Oh and their dog ate everything I owned.

With my best friends gone I was forced into the position I'd always feared, I was alone. Not completely, I had reunited with some friends from high school, but I spent a great deal of time by myself. I think I probably did the most growing during this time. I didn't have much more to work on other than me. I also hadn't really dated in two years so I was starting to get lonely. I knew I would never meet the right person in a bar. I tried that for years and ended up meeting the same girl every night. Plus the fact I had no real social circle left me wondering how I would meet people. Enter Yahoo personals. Lets just say I have always been pretty fond of myself, so it should be no surprise I started of by stating I was an attractive male. Evidently the fact that I referenced myself as a male caught the attention of my future wife. She replied to my ad, in her words, in a sarcastic manor thinking I was some idiot tool bag. Now I say in her words because, be it altered state of mind or ego, I didn't read it that way(then again she is horrible at being mean). So I messaged her back and we ended up hitting it off. Now maybe I should tell you this, if you made a list of our characteristics and traits we most likely never would have come near each other. I'm just saying Jen is pretty straight arrow and my list would have read: Tattooed, multiple ear piercings, pushes the envelope until it can't bend any farther then pushes it again, doesn't do well with being told what to do, doesn't really have a strong respect for rules, he's a mess and everywhere he goes messes follow, oh and he's so laid back you'll need to take his pulse from time to time. And the aforementioned me would have read: very organized, doesn't drink, tends to worry about situations down the road, lives life with structure and guidelines for efficiency, and has a devotion to keeping a clean and well put together living space. I think these differences are most evident in our first date. She only had two rules for me. The first was I had to call before I left (evidently she though she could tell if I was psycho by my voice) and the second was no kissing on the first date. Well I was running behind so I figure why call her she's probable already left. She had also told me about her nice teeth quirk so I was sure to have my bubba teeth in for her first person to person view of me. I think I yelled something from my car with the teeth in as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. Then we ate at Bennigan's in which they loaded her salad with bacon (for those of you who didn't know Jen in the day, she was a hardcore vegetarian) after she had asked for no meat on the salad. She said nothing to me or them not wanting me to think she was high maintenance. Then we go to a mall and walk around. I couldn't get a good read on if she was into me or not so when we went out to the car I open her door and planted one on her. She was so taken by surprise that she stone walled me (stiff lipped). She is my polar opposite and some how my carbon copy. She is the funniest person I know and just like me in that she doesn't think people get her. The funniest thing to me is she says from that night on she knew I was the one. I'm sure I don't say this often enough, but she was right. We dated for three years and have been married for a little over five. The rest is history or I guess the present and future.

Deaton The True Non-Hollywood Story

Part II:The Storm Front

Now when we left our hero he was where??? Ah yes adolescence! Is there truly a more awkward time in our lives than adolescence? I would consider adolescence to start at around 12-13 (depending on if your school is K-8 or a middle school). The time of figuring out what we are and where our place in the social scene is. I spent some time in the "IN" crowd and realized it just wasn't me. Too much effort and conformity goes into that crap. I was just going to be different. The deck was stacked against me. All my classmates are listening to rap and R&B, I'm listening to They Might Be Giants, The Cure, Primus, The Pixies. I'm watching music evolve and no one else sees this! How could anyone understand ME if they couldn't understand this???? (As said in an almost pubescent end-of-the-world voice.) I can still remember my day of epiphany. It was seventh grade everyone was pinch rolling their jeans. Now for those of you too young to know what that is you simply take the very front of your jeans and pull them straight out. Now fold them towards the inside of your leg and then roll the cuff two or three times. I looked down and thought "This looks dumb as hell" and I unrolled them. I know not a big deal right? In a sheep herd mentality, that comes with being in school, the pack will always stay tight til one strays. Now I'm not saying I invented the wheel or I'm such a rebel or even I'm the first to ever stray, but from that day forward I was always just me. I've just always been a loner. Don't get me wrong I have always been entertaining and personable, which gave me the ability to bounce in and out of social groups when I wanted. Perfect for me because I'm a guarded person. I've always felt people don't always get me (unjustly I might add) and I could have surface friends with no true connection. It's funny to me the way I victimized myself because people didn't "Get" me when I wouldn't let them close enough to know me.

I guess not a whole lot to talk about for high school. My freshman year Nirvana killed pop music and all the sheep traded their polo's for flannel. It was so funny because you have these kids who are wearing $90 Ralph Lauren flannels and $80 Guess Jeans with $100 Eastland boots and they were hardcore. Designer grunge what a concept and an oxymoron. I guess if it can be marketed it will. Don't worry though mainstream always over exposes everything it gets its greedy hands on and kills it. By my senior year I partied all the time. My favorite thing was to mess with drunks or stoners. For drunks it was easy. I'd usually do my lung cancer trick. I'd tell them the way you can tell if you have it is to take three drags off your cigarette as fast as you can. After the third drag no smoke should come out. I'd light up take two drags and exhale. Then on the third I'd ash (and you have to ash or you'll blow ash every where) then blow so the cherry glows and exhale again. Naturally no smoke. That would freak them out for hours and all night I'd get "Do it again". For stoners I'd go with theories. For example I'd start by making the statement that dogs are smarter than humans. Which is easy to defend sober but high not so much. That would generally be dismissed fairly easily. So I would add "Sure they have physical limitations we don't have, but they are clearly smarter". Then I'd throw a bunny up like "If you want someone to take care of you play dumb right?". The first rule to debating an irrational thought is to get them emotionally invested by letting them win the first few arguments. Clearly you could say "If you are dumb you don't have to act." I'd give them one or two more statements they could win (depending on the investment level - they have to be fully invested for it work). Then I'd drop the bomb and the conversation almost always went like this" If you say sit what does your dog do?". "He sits" they would respond." When your dog barks what do you do"? Most of the time the answer was a blank stare. Then the final set up "So the dog understands you, but you don't understand it?". Now every once in a while I'd get a feisty one that was not going out like that and they'd say "Because they don't speak a language". Then the nail in the proverbial coffin. "Then how do they understand each other"? Now like I said sober that's easy to defend. I once had a friend tell me " You are the intersection of genius and insane". I asked him "Which road would you name after me". He answered "Exactly". Oh yeah I was a nationally rated long distance runner blah blah blah. Tore up my ankle blah blah blah. No more college scholarships blah blah blah. Supposed to walk with a limp, but instead can do full impact blah blah freakin blah! I don't know that we really need the long version of that. I'm better at self deprecating (in a fun way) than bragging. I honestly don't believe anything from high school had a profound impact on my life, but the years following certainly would.

For the next four years of my life I was Hurricane Deaton I say hurricane because it was a constant cycle of chaos to calm then exploding back into chaos. I would actually contribute this in part to the fact that I internalized everything. So all it took was a break-up or sometimes even just a bad day to start the swirling motion, throw in a little self-pity and a dash of self-loathing and I'd become a category 4 in no time. Drinking heavy on week nights, setting up dates then disappearing, being a douche bag in general forcing my friends to clean up my mess. Well my true friends that is, I had a few that were like my warm gulf waters. Now lets get a few things straight before I move on. First of all these outbursts would occur for a few months of the year. I'd be in a relationship for six months spin out for two months get it together for 3 months spin out for 2 weeks. A tail spin never ended a relationship, but was the result of one ending. The length depended on how long it took to be miserable enough to get my act together. Number two I never missed a day of work or lost a job or even had my work suffer. From 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. I was a contained blast. Finally unless you were physically caught up in the destruction you'd never have a clue. I was the same funny, entertaining, and seemingly easy going person unless you were mostly Phil Davenport then you had to do more work than F.E.M.A. to smooth the waters. The turning point you ask me? My father one day looked at me and said "You know you can be a victim all your life or one day you'll wake up and realize you're responsible for your own happiness.". WOW until that day I could blame everyone else for my all my problems and sorrows, but with that reality I could only have one conclusion. Though I may not be responsible for causing all my problems I was responsible for how I handled them.

I know this was not the light hearted look into me, but every True Hollywood Story has to have it's climax or moment of clarity. This was mine. Next time will be the finale as well as the most entertaining of the three. If you have any stories you want to hear leave them in the comments. You could even read the comments on the last blog and suggest one if you want. You could even just tell me you laughed your butt off at skinny Brian. That's all for now,but I will leave you this week with some random facts about me.

• I burst into song all the time - most of the time it's my own lyrics and rhythm.



• I think apart from work I rarely use my normal voice. Between Lennon's voice ( I often narrate his thoughts), my I'm explaining myself voice (like I forgot to close the fridge, clean the stove, take out the garbage, etc.) and singing random thoughts and sentences.



• I love mini golf but I always take the blue golf ball so I can kick the hell out of a dead horse.



• I appreciate a good cigar, but I can't stand wine.



• I will not drink Pepsi.



• Hello my name is Brian and I am kind of a tech geek.



• I grew up on video games and continue to grow with them.



• I would rather be at home than any where else on Earth.



• I am a slob, yet I get mad if the toothpaste is not squeezed from the bottom.



• I will leave anything in the yard if I see a snake near it (and we only have garden snakes).



• And Brad and Tiffany have over 100 reasons why I will never be left alone with their child.

Brian Deaton - The True Non-Hollywood Story

This week I decided to try to merge the two poll answers into one. Being as I had seven votes how could I afford to alienate 15% of my readers? I do at very least know that seven people read this so that's cool. If I had just six words to describe me the first three would be "I'm a mess". I have ADD. I do not have the bounce off the wall kind, I have the stare at the wall kind. This is the best way I can describe it. Image your brain moving at a pace so fast you can't focus on one task then throw in the Swedish Chef as your own personal filing specialist. The result? I have an extremely quick wit, but have no idea where any thing I own is. Such as keys, wallet, Ipod, coffee cup, my mind. You know - the basics. And I know right now Tiffany Watts is picturing when I lived with them and, on occasion, would just start flinging things and saying " Erdin Flurdin Jerdin Burdin". This just came to me. Isn't it kinda crazy no body ever got pissed about the Swedish Chef? If Sesame Street had a Chinese character called the Asian Chef who cooked on a table in front of you, threw knives around and said things like "Ching Chang Chong" people would flip. Which brings me to my last three words "but I'm fun". Anyone who has spent more than two hours with me probably has a story about me. Anyone who has lived with me (or known me for years) won't know which one to start with. I'm one of those people who you meet for the first time and feel like you've known them all your life. This got me to wondering what do people not know about me.

Where to start? I guess with the basics. I am the oldest of two. I was born in 1977, I weighed 7lbs and 7oz, and was the 7th grandchild on the Deaton side (also the 7th boy). Before I could even speak I would tell jokes. Seriously at like 6 months I would mutter random sounds pause then laugh. I spoke my first words at 9 months. I know you're thinking "Momma" or "Dadda", but you'd be wrong. My dad was eating a sandwich and I crawled up on him and said "Bite bite please please please" further proving me to be a Deaton (we love food). By a year old I spoke in close to sentence form, but being the laid back person I am I didn't care to walk. And not that I couldn't walk it was just easier and faster to crawl and I was lazy (funny when you consider I ended up as one of the top distance runners in the country). At the age of 4 my dad took me to Venture (for those of you not from the mid-west or younger than 25 it was a department store). I was always an easy to get along with kid and the rule was if you are absolutely wonderful while shopping you get a little something at the end. So he decided to get me a new record (yes vinyl I'm old). He's thinking Smurfs, I'm thinking Billy Joel-Glass Houses. It's the one with "Still Rock and Roll to Me", "You May Be Right", and "Don't Ask Me Why". Well long story short I begged until he broke. Now God Bless the man who for the sake of rock and roll takes one for the team because I know it wasn't fun to explain to my mother why he just bought their preschool child a rock album. On a stranger note imagine your 4 year old walking around your house singing " You may be right. I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic your lookin for". After that they couldn't keep me away from their records or the record player. 27 years later I have 3 of those 300 Cd cases full of Cd's and a few easy to carry cases full. Thank God for Ipods!

Growing up I basically had one friend. It wasn't because I didn't make friends easily, but because I only needed one. He lived right across the street. We were basically the same person. We had all the same interests and loved all the same things. We used to make movies that consisted of music videos and talk shows. In fact I still have them and no you can't see them. The nice thing about being a boy is if you get into a fight one just knocks the other out and it's over. It's part of the great divide. Girls will try to destroy each others lives and boys will make each other eat grass. The other part (of the great divide) being that a woman will look in the mirror and become distraught over one ear being an eighth of an inch higher than the other. A man, no matter what physical shape or size, will get out of the shower look in the mirror, flex, and say "HELLS YEA". On the opposite side of the spectrum women will freely speak of their feelings every chance they get and men are afraid of their feelings. Now I know this is a stereo-type but have I ever told you I LOVE STEREO-TYPES. The reason being no they are not always true, but most of the time they are right on. People don't just make this stuff up. Now I can't speak for the female perspective, but I would consider myself an expert on internalization. I think as boys we are taught to not show emotion because it is a sign of weakness. And that manifests as we get older turning us into time bombs. Now I know we are all damaged in our own precious ways and have walls and defenses. The difference is women can bring it to the surface. Women get visually upset or call a friend, with a man it just comes out. We keep shoving it in and in and in until it just comes out. That's why we have the blank face then with no warning flip out. We're just trying to stay numb. I am the king of internalizers. You'll almost never see me as any thing but happy. Now that is a slightly misleading comment because I am an extremely easy going happy person. It's just if there is something wrong no one would know. I take that back Jen would. She'd look at me and say "Why you being fake?" and be persistent enough to get an answer. I have found a medication for me (I just can't go with cure). It's actually pretty simple. It's music. If I am down and need to allow myself to feel I play Ryan Adams or some old school Pumpkins and sing the words as they were mine. If I am frustrated and need to blow off steam it's Dillinger Escape Plan, System of a Down, Parkway Drive etc. If I need to cheer up it's Marley, They might be Giants, The Beatles, Dylan etc. Now I love all music and it's not always therapy. I listen to a lot of metal, but trust me I'm not frustrated that often. How could I be? I have a wonderful wife who proofreads all I write. A dog, well I don't actually know what he does but I still love him and great friends. But we haven't gotten that far in the story yet. Part two coming soon. Feel free to post any stories you have in the comments or just say "Hey". Tiff I expect some good stories from you.