Beware of server...we bite back.
Category: Food and Restaurants

Oh for a day of normalcy!! Ladies and gentleman, for many of you, your profession involves ducking and weaving vice presidents, supervisors that notice if you left out a comma in your latest report or the guys that seem to always look at your cleavage when you are talking to them. For me…I'm a bartender, and a very good one if I do say so myself. Yes I know it isn't the most glamorous job in the world, and many times I have been asked what a guy like me is doing slingin' brew when I could be oh…working for a company where you can stare at women's cleavage when they talk to you. It is the question I often ponder but I quickly realize that I work with amazing people and have an addiction to making new friends. In no other job can you meet people and with in a few short days feel like you are a part of a family. We laugh, hang out, cry and entertain each other and get paid to do it. My bills are taken care of for the most part, and I am the man everyone loves to see. I'm the bartender. The mixer of goodness, creator of good times and best friend to those that need one. Once in a while however, paradise is intruded upon and quite often, it violators are knuckle heads like you.

Folks, for those of you that have never spent a day working in the service industry, allow me to give you a little insight or Restaurant Patronage 101, if you will. A restaurant or bar is designed for pleasure and convenience. When you come in, assume that every employee around you has been briefed, trained, tested and re-tested to ensure that guests of the establishment receive the best treatment possible. In exchange for services rendered, they expect to be compensated and by this I mean…a tip. And so begins my rant:

 My friends, why is it so hard for you to tip? Let's get one thing perfectly clear, a tip is 20%. I know that for many people this is considered highway robbery but you know what? That's the way it is. You see, we in the restaurant industry may not have been example math students but you can sure as hell believe that when we look at your check, we know how much 20% is. If for some reason tipping is such an agonizing part of your dining experience, take this piece of advice. Do not ever, and I mean EVER show your face at a restaurant after leaving anything less than 20%. Why? Because we have memories like super computers. Ok, so we may have forgotten to refill your ice water with lemon a nano-second after you requested one, but so help me God if you stiff me the tip, your face and faces of your snot dripping children who just spilled their juice on my table and turned every napkin into confetti, will be seared into my brain for eternity. This leads me to another point: If you bring your kids with you, either tranquilize them or damn well make sure you tip me well for dealing with them. Most of us earn $2.33 an hour plus what ever paltry amount you leave us. I'm paid to serve you, not baby sit. If you gilt me on my 20%, chances are I will be willing to kidnap your child and sell him to the Mexican slave market to make up the difference. Don't think I can? Walk into the kitchen and what do you see? Mexicans. Mexicans with connections, jack ass. Pay me.

 Along the same lines, as a bartender nothing infuriates us more than when you sit at our bar with your children. It is fundamentally wrong. So there might be a waiting time before you get seated or perhaps you are expecting more people to join you, but either way, my bar is not a waiting area. Those chairs are for people that are going to order drinks, and by drinks I mean booze. Do not expect me to refill your diet coke because you sucked it down like a dehydrated camel. Are you going to tip me on that soda? No, but yet I still have to go through the pain in the butt process of hunting down a manager just to get your soda tab transferred to your table. Moral of the story is: the bar is for drinking big person drinks, nothing else. If your kid sits down and orders a kiddy cocktail with extra cherries, and you smile like it's the cutest thing in the world, I will officially declare you an enemy of my bar. As a side note…we hate making kiddy cocktails/ Shirley Temples. We would rather drink our own piss than make those things, but we do it. As an act of revenge, I promise you that we are loading those things with so much cherry syrup, it will guarantee your child a sugar rush until 4 am.

 If you want great service while sitting at the bar, the first step is respect. Learning the bartenders name is a GREAT start. Yelling "Bartender!!" from across the bar like I am a deaf oompa-loompa won't get you very far. My name is Ken Kealey, not Helen Keller numb nuts. Likewise, don't wave a dollar bill in the air and expect me to come running like an Ethiopian child chasing a stick of gum. Be classy, start a tab or just put the money on the table and wait for me to come your way. I may want your money, but reducing my dignity will only result in you getting a drink when I feel like getting you one. We are not your personal servants and surprise, surprise we are aware of our own existence. I will digress, once in a while restaurants will hire bartenders or train people to "bartend" but in reality, they are just kids trying to earn money for school…or weed. They don't have a fine appreciation for the social centrality that is the bar. I, however, am old school. I know how to make a stiff drink that will get you to where you need to be fast, I'll light up your smokes, listen to your marital problems or even pour you a shot on the house just to help brighten your day. Just don't disrespect me or my work place.

 Another way to expose your evil is to come into my bar and drink like it's the day before prohibition. Mark my words, I will cut you off. Drinking is only a contest if you are at a frat house or a friend's basement. At a bar however, it is a place of business. I'll do everything I can to make sure you have a good time, but act like an idiot and just see what happens. On that note, do not, and I mean DO NOT hit on or talk to the servers like they are Main Street hookers. Touch them and I'll touch you…with my fist. Those girls mean the world to us and your drunk ass has no right to lay a finger on them. There isn't a guy working for the restaurant that would hesitate to go I.R.A on you in a second if you touched them…even on the shoulder. The chances of you getting the phone number of the girl bartender or waitress is next to nothing and no amount of liquid courage will polish your game enough to accomplish this. Women…talk to the guys all you want. Hell, slap their butts if you want to. All they will do is go back in the kitchen and talk about how much of a hussy you are.

 Moving on…we will judge you by your appearance. If you love wearing NASCAR t-shirts or hang your keys from your belt, it's a red flag to us that you are a cheap skate. If you walk into a fine dining up upper scale casual restaurant with your hat turned backwards and a chain around your neck…you'll get the kind of service we would give to a bald headed step child. We'd rather hide you than acknowledge you. Also, unless the name of the restaurant is Gangster Café (Chili's, Friday's or Applebee's are also acceptable) don't walk into a restaurant looking like one. Dressing like a rap star makes Jesus cry…so do cargo pants. If you are failing to understand the importance of dressing up when you dine out, let me put it plainly. If you see someone driving a rusty car…do you assume they are a millionaire? No. So if you walk in looking like you just put in a full day on the farm or are from Compton…why should we assume you'll be a good tipper?

 Finally, and I hate to let the well kept secret out of the bag, but we are never ever ever ever ever excited to see old people walk through the doors. If you are old…we don't like you. We are playing paper rock scissors in the back of the restaurant just to see who has to serve you. You represent everything we don't like. For some odd ball reason, senior citizens are perfectly fine with filling up their Lincoln Continentals at $3.75 a gallon but then still tip us like we are shoe shine boys during the depression. We brought you your Whiskey Old Fashioned Sweets, brought your steak back 3 times because it wasn't cooked to your medieval version of medium well and even considered chewing the food for you just to get you out of the place faster. Why don't we like you? Because you are old, that's why. You are the people that hold up lines to rummage through your coupon purse. You are the ones that drive slow in the fast lane. You are the ones that still think paying with a check at a restaurant is ok. You are the ones that flock to the all you can eat soup and salad specials yet tip as though all you ordered was water. You request booths because the chairs mess with your hemorrhoids. Senior citizens are the (barely) living Anti-Christs to the hospitality world. Three times the amount of work goes into accommodating them only to receive three times less than what is acceptable as a tip. They say "Respect your elders", and in the serving industry we say "Why? Are they respecting us?"

 For whatever reason, people think they can waltz into a restaurant and get away with treating its staff with the minimal amount of care or concern. Unbeknownst to the rest of the world, you have just screwed yourself over. We all talk…about you. Servers at joint A have server friends at joint B and so on. Why so many people feel as though we are too weak to do anything back is beyond me. A quote from my favorite book as well as movie, I think sums up our response to such absurdity: "We cook your meals, we haul your trash, we connect your calls, we drive your ambulances. We guard you while you sleep. Do not... f*ck with us. – Fight Club".  

10:11 PM - 13 Comments - 24 Kudos - Add Comment

The complexity of cool
Category: Friends

My friends, for as long as I have been writing on myspace, I can say that I have been writing and searching for one crucial thing and that is my identity. I chronicled my fruitless attempts at love and romance, my costly friendships and the many faces I felt I had to put on and even wrote to myself a number of times. Oddly enough, over time and by reading my own words, slowly, the answers started to come about. I imagine myself as a search vessel dropping depth charges into an ocean, trying to discover the identity of a hidden submarine. This time however, the depth charge found its mark…and the submarine is forced to surface.

 For years, decades even, I have bowed down to the notion that I desperately want to be liked. I have always wanted to be the one that is the most popular, the most liked and always thought of. No, it's not because I have a big ego like some dim-witted people out there assume. It's because being genuinely liked was something I was raped of for the better part of my life and sent scrambling for the table scraps of affection from the people around me. I grew up the son of a preacher man. I was taught the ways of the Bible and quite literally drilled on the What Would Jesus Do questions every morning. While other kids my age were discovering pop music, I was mulling over Rush Limbaugh, biblical commentaries and spiritual theory. When Karate Kid came out, I was banned from watching it because for some reason my parents believed it imparted the "demon of violence" into me and prompted me to go black belt on anything near me. Trees, chairs…my sisters, nothing was safe from my newly acquired martial arts skills. Ah the benefits of being demon possessed. My social short comings were first brought to light in the locker rooms after swim practice. I would bolt into the room and make a mad dash trying to get changed before anyone else because I knew it was a matter of time before my counter parts came strolling in and I would face the firing squad of rolled up towels and smelly wet Speedos. Maybe if I would have been allowed to watch Karate Kid II I would have been better prepared for such ambushes.

 Every thing and I mean every thing revolved around the church. My siblings and I were lectured every Sunday morning on the proper etiquette of preacher's kids. When asked what kinds of kids the preachers kids were to be, the proper response was (and I kid you not) "The Best!". For years I failed to understand why people would STILL leave the church even though we were acting our very best. My best friend of one day was suddenly unreachable and erased from my life the next. I didn't have friends…I had a revolving door of social acquaintances. Strangely, the more isolated I felt, the more I would dig deeper into the church to find acceptance. When I was finally pulled from home school and placed into regular school, it was then and only then that I realized just how detached from reality I was. It was brutal. My naivety gave way to social blunder after blunder. I'll be the first to admit, I was a dork…big time. I wore Mickey Mouse shorts to gym class and thought pleated jeans were just as cool as the regular ones. I had never heard of this thing called "rap music" but looked at people like they were insane when they had never heard of Michael W. Smith. To this day I have never seen the movie Dirty Dancing because of the sexual promiscuity it apparently endorses. Have I seen all of the Left Behind movies starring Kirk Cameron? Hellz to the yeah.

 I was a wreck. With every rejection, the growing need to just be liked grew ten fold. I, essentially, became a chameleon. I didn't know what was cool, so I became everything that was cool to everyone. I was the partier, the loner, the rich kid, the poor kid, the smart debater and the meat headed jock. I could sing like an angel and fight like a ninja turtle. If you wanted me to be a certain someone just so you could like me…I became that person, and with ease.

 Changing hats so often didn't come off with a big pay out right away. A nerd by any other name, is still a nerd. No matter how hard I tried to be liked, I was still shunned and thought of as inferior. Words can't express the anger that welled up inside me. Rejection is funny like that. It pisses you off. Go figure. Occasionally a little steam would release and I would bring the fight to the door steps of my persecutors. I remember one time in high school, I caught wind of a house party that was going to take place. After walking in on a few conversations and witnessing the subject change quickly so as to prevent me from hearing the details, I quickly realized that the event was invite only and they were one invitation short…mine. Despite their best efforts to shield the event from my knowledge, I knew everything. Beer, weed, a lake and no parents was what it came down to. I even knew who's house it was going to be at and what time everyone was going to show up. What the giggly party goers didn't know was what time MY guests were going to arrive. And by guests I mean the po-po's, FOO! That's right, I waited for the party to reach its climax, placed an anonymous call to the cops and game over. To those of you reading this that were AT that party…yeah, it was me. Pay back smells oh so sweet, unless its mine…in which case I hope it smells like farts.

 Over the years, I continued my pursuit of happiness. Trying to make everyone happy and make as many friends as I could regardless of the consequence. With time however, comes maturity and revelation. In the past year, I've learned one very valuable lesson and that is just how valuable of a person I am by just being me. Mind blowing really…the concept of just being you. As this notion started to gel, I started to see things in life differently. I was sickened with myself and the people I've wasted so much time on. Oh  the hours and days spent toiling over their attention and sounding like a wounded donkey braying for some compassion. If I would go out and be surprised to see the people I thought were my friends ALREADY out and about, I would check my cell phone to see if I had missed any calls, only to feel the shroud of disappointment cover me like a lead blanket when I realized, they hadn't called in the first place. Now, however, is a new day. The submarine has surfaced and good God is it armed to the teeth. One over whelming fact has become a mantra of sorts in my mind, repeating itself over and over again. Make no mistake, I was and still am full of flaws. I lied, thousands of times to thousands of people. I stole, cheated, scammed and weaseled my way through so many situations and now to many people I am regarded as a class act con-man with the ability to talk his way into and out of anything. I was, at least in my own eyes, a very bad person. But what is worse than the actions of a bad man, is the indifference of good men. You see…I was trying. I was pleading, begging and screaming to be a friend…to anyone. I just wanted people to consider me, ya know? To make the conscious effort to be my friend too. If they were going out, I wanted to cross their minds long enough to tell me where the fun was taking place. Where I was doing everything…the "good people" did nothing.

Flash forward. Now…the simple answer…I don't give a damn. I'm a friggin' awesome person, with stories (real ones) to tell and mountains to offer. I can be your best friend because that's just what I do. When I'm not invited out, I don't wish hale storms onto you and pray the gods unleash their fury onto your car as you're on your way to your destination sans Ken Kealey. Today, I overheard a few people making plans to go out for drinks after work (a place called Jo-Jo's). Was I invited? No. Did I make it painfully obvious that even the invitation would have spoken volumes? No. If I'm not worth their time, then my time isn't worth spending on them. Move on. Regardless, I know who I am on the inside. If you know you are cool, then you dares tell you that you're not? Somewhere deep down we're all bad asses, but it's up to us to conjure up the "demon of awesomeness" and deliver to our world a karate chop of cool. Git' on wit yo' bad self!

As always...thanks for reading, and keep smiling - Ken

1:13 AM - 11 Comments - 21 Kudos - Add Comment

We were Kings
Category: Friends

There used to be a time when I would wake up in the morning and the smell of an all night social still wafted from the pile of worn work clothes on my floor. My inbox was full of hilarity and accompanied by dozens of text messages that required clever decoding. I used to wake up with a smile and confidence knowing that the laughter I experienced the day before would only be repeated that day. I had friends, loads of them. The kind of friends that loved life and everything we did was done in the name of fun and for the moment. For many of you, the feeling is familiar. To be able to walk into an establishment and have everyone turn and cheer your arrival, hug you like you haven't seen them in years, and already have a cold beer waiting is unforgettable. It's a real life version of Cheers and you are the favorite regular.

Over time however, actually a very short time, the smiles faded, the messages dwindled and the calls have almost stopped entirely. Now instead of being informed where the rally point is, I find out about it by casual encounter and instead of being greeted like the hometown hero, I'm being treated like a picture out of a facebook and a blast from the past. I get the shoulder slaps, the "Hey how ya' been buddy?" or "What's new?" comments flanked by the looks and casual interest you would give to a terminally ill patient. I'm all smiles of course, but on the inside I have the feeling of anger and disappointment. Its like I just walked in on a friends surprise party only to be just as surprised as they were, but simply because I hadn't been invited. It has suddenly dawned on me…I'm not one of them any more. You see I left the job we all shared at a restaurant and by doing so, my place at the table has been reserved for someone else. The inside jokes we have are no longer met with boisterous laughter but rather half smiles and chuckles. When I do stumble across my former pride of friends, I now call into question whether or not I was really their friend at all. When we part ways I am given endless finger points and winks, earfuls of empty promises, the "I'll call you soon" and tentative days we could get together in the future. The feeling of momentary elation quickly comes crashing down when I realize…nobody cares anymore. If I changed my phone number, how long would it take any of them to figure it out? Would they email me? Do they even have my email address?

I've spent my entire life trying to fight for the attention of others and their approval. I've scratched, clawed and bold face lied my way into peoples minds and hearts. The reason why stems from years of social depravation and a parental profession that relied heavily on people liking the family enough to stick around. When I lost someone I was devastated and the event would only increase my anxiety about losing someone else. The result is a grown man terrified of people not liking him, or even worse, loving and leaving him. Now however, things have changed. My friends, I know many of you, like me, have experienced the brutal sting of reality and spent hours staring at some infomercial on a Friday night wishing your phone was ringing off the hook. People can ask "Well why didn't you call?" and they don't understand that facing the prospect that if you did call you would feel even more insignificant when you found out that everyone was already out and about and never bothered to call you. Well years of constantly changing hats and chasing friends cars like a desperate lawyer, for me, are done. You can only be stung enough before you grow immune. Now…I don't care. They have lost a friend…an incredible friend. When they are in trouble, I'm the guy that would have been there by their side. I'm the hug of comfort and the fist of protection. I'm the guy that listens to you, laughs, buys your drinks and it truly happy to see you. Now however, I've been forced into an uncompromising position. I'm reminded of the scene in the Goodfellas movie, when Paul Sorvino hands Ray Liotta a pocket full of cash and says "That's it. Now I have to turn my back on you". No more kindness, no more back slaps and begging for your friendship. Yeah, I've missed you guys. A lot. God I wish I could make things like they were, but its obvious it would be a one man effort and a futile one at that.

Enter the new circle. I've learned from my ways and near sighted tomfoolery. I may have been unconsciously forgotten and replaced by default, but the cold shoulder I give from now on is a deliberate one. New friends are coming around, new jokes, and new smiles. This time around, I'm not dependant on their approval. The allure to my charm is that whether or not I get a hug from you doesn't affect me either way. I don't give a damn. They want to be my friend because they know…I'm a damn good one. So to the blasts from the past, I bid you adieu. I tried to make a lasting impression, but my company was about as valuable to you as a missing sock. You knew I was there but didn't want to spend the time to find me, no matter how comfortable I was. The times were great, we had our fun, but now…I have to turn my back on you.     

8:52 AM - 12 Comments - 20 Kudos - Add Comment

Be the Pheonix
Current mood: bored
Category: Romance and Relationships

Shattered and broken, you fall to the floor not sure if you can deal with the pain anymore. The emotional bruising, you feel so alone, you sit on your couch by yourself in your home. The world is in tatters and your heart is a mess because once again you've been put to the test. You gave someone everything; all that you had. You loved them and stayed with them in good times and the bad. You held their hands, and folded their clothes. You bought them their dinners and God only knows how much time and devotion you poured into them, just to be crushed, again…and again.

 You know you're a winner who just happens to lose, every time you pick and you choose, someone of interest you think is a fit. Turns out they are selfish and dumber than twits. They say the right words to lure you in, they draw you close and then the games begin. The unanswered phone calls, the pictures with others, the "Baby, it's nothing's" but still make you wonder. Then the ax drops and with horrible timing. It's just when you need them but they think that you're whining. Pleading for approval you drop to your knees. You want to work through things, but they see no need. They want to move on, they think you're a mess. They say "Lets be friends. Good luck and God bless". Then just like that, the good times have vanished. To a life of confusion and tears you've been banished.

 Well let me say something, and read every word. The fact that they left you is simply absurd. We are the survivors, the ones with the aces. We'll do better at life so wipe the tears from your faces. Shame on us for dating those pig headed losers, the prisses, the rich kids, the wanna be's and abusers. They sapped us of life and left us for dead. The pain is defeating us, but lets get Angry instead. Let rage take us over and move us to fight. Climb our way to the top and try with our might, to show them who's better and NO ONE can beat us. Lets make ourselves better and show them they need us. Pick yourself up and stop all the crying. They aren't crying over you, they're not even trying. If you need time to grieve, then do it in style. Call up your friends, people you haven't seen in a while. We're better, we're stronger, we're bigger than those that walked on our hearts…but they stepped on our toes. Now we're pissed, the sad times have past. We're hell bent on success and happiness at last. Screw'em for leaving, but really who cares? They're idiots…I hope they get eaten by bears.

 Bad times happen and bad people come with, but don't let it phase you and just remember this. Those morons may hurt and jerk you around, but YOU are the only person who can keep you down. We're fighters inside and who can deny us? Are futures are awesome because of the past that's behind us. So when loved ones turn sour and life gets you frantic…we're all awesome inside and an Angry Romantic.

 
As always…thanks for reading, and keep smiling - Ken  

1:52 PM - 8 Comments - 22 Kudos - Add Comment

Who has the V card?
Current mood: happy
Category: Romance and Relationships

First and foremost, Happy Valentine's Day my friends! For some it's a day to be spoiled, hugged, kissed and made to feel special. For some it's the one day a year they dread more than a prostate exam due to their "single status". For others it's a laborious holiday that involves yet another day they need to go out and buy some trivial token of affection that expresses their love and admiration.

 Like some of you I've been on all sides of this holiday. I've loved it and anticipated it and it all depended on who I was dating at the time. There once was a time when I was engaged to a young Wisconsinite who demanded she be showered with gifts and God forbid I bring up the fact that money was tight. If her presents didn't say Express, American eagle or have a combined worth of at least $200, then the day was about as meaningful as Chinese New Year in Ireland. This year however is different. You see I have a Valentine and one that doesn't insist on gifts like a rabid Queen does taxation. We bend over backwards for each other everyday and really don't need a reason to show one another just how much we care, but its fun to anyway.

 While I was out and about shopping away for friends and my lover alike I witnessed every mixed emotion a man can go through while shopping for the right gift. While perusing the Hallmark card selection it was almost humorous to watch my fellow comrades sweat bullets scavenging for the card that can sum up in a whimsical haiku how much they care about their significant other. One man picked a handful of cards, took them up to the counter and proceeded to say "Can you help me pick out which card a chick would like best?" Although one would have to admire his desire for the most expressive and acceptable card, I wanted to chastise him for his creativity or lack there of. Likewise in the same day, while at a local convenience store I saw a guy walk in, randomly picked a card and then a bag of pink M&M's. For all he knew the card said "To my hairy chested man lover" on the inside, but he obviously didn't care and was going for the "A for effort" points. It took every nerve in my body to prevent me from going up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and saying "Excuse me? Don Juan? I didn't think so. Maybe I can help". To his credit he also purchased a pack of Marlboro Reds, which would probably be the perfect sized box for him to stick his pecker into, tie a bow around and hope the best.

 It has become apparent that so many men have fallen prey to the American way of convenience. If they can't buy it at a drive through or win it at bar darts, then Wal-Greens is the simple fix. Men are just hard wired that way and in most cases will only plan or go as far as anyone has ever gone for them. Like it or not guys, we are creatures of habit. We like to come home after work, have a beer, play video games and take a load off. We enjoy going to the same bars, restaurants, vacations and don't have a problem wearing the same pair of jeans three days in a row. Ladies, if you want something different, ya gotta train the beast. I had the good fortune of being raised by two parents that to this day in their late 50's still go at each other like love birds on prom night. Our family videos are full of my dad "accidentally" filming my mom's rear end while saying "Merry Christmas" kids. The romance is still alive and burning and from that I learned a very valuable lesson. Always fight for romance. Think outside the box. When all a man sees on TV for Valentines is diamond this and that, Russell Stover chocolates and Vermont Teddy bears, then they will assume that's the best route. If you want something special, then return the favor. Most guys don't need cologne gift sets or movie box sets. Valentine's Day is a celebration of each other. Maybe plan the day together for a change. Pick a night and divide up dinner duties but don't let the other one know what the other is up to. Both of you choose one form of entertainment. Now guys, if you cheat and order take out, still stick with chocolates and your form of entertainment involves a rousing game of "guess what's in my pants", I hope she dumps your ass. If a kid can be more thoughtful and romantic by making a macaroni necklace and a crayon drawn card then you're in trouble. Valentine's Day is a day not only to say "I love you" but a day for a woman to say "Thanks for lifting those heavy boxes" and the guys to say "Thanks for cleaning the bathroom". If the appreciation for each other isn't there and can't be expressed, then the romance is already gone my friends.

 Now, for those of you that are riding stag on a day like this…have no fears. In my experience, some of the best V-Day's were spent in a booth at TGI Friday's with a pint in one hand and my other arm around a good friend. Sometimes having a dozen friends wish you Happy Valentine's day is worth more than just one person buying you a box of chocolates and then looking for some action between the sheets. Good friends are hard to come by and Valentine's Day is a day to let them all know just how much they mean to you. Good friends give you a rose every now and then, not just once a year. They call you just for the heck of it, let you cry on their shoulder, smile when they see you and make you feel like a better person. God has blessed me with friends like that and I will fight until the day I die to keep them around. Thanks for making me who I am my friends…you all know who you are.

 Folks, you're all worth something to someone, if not, you're worth something to me. Thanks for taking the time to read my blogs, drop me happy Valentine's Day comments and messages and although I've only met a small handful of you, you're the best friends anyone could ask for. This blog is for you. *cheers* *clink*

As always…thanks for reading and keep smiling - Ken   

2:36 PM - 23 Comments - 40 Kudos - Add Comment

Friends that kiss...
Current mood: romantic
Category: Romance and Relationships

Here I sit, a man with a past that warrants years of incarceration and an eternity in purgatory. A man with personal demons that will shape his very mind set for the rest of his life. I've beaten myself time and time again wondering why I've made some of the decisions I've made, resulting in losses of friendships, romance and respect. Everyday I wake up, in one way shape or form humiliated by the paths I've chosen and likewise reminded of my mistakes every once in a while by those that I've let down. It seems pointless sometimes for me to track down shadows from my past on Myspace in an effort to reconnect. Thinking that time has healed the wounds I so vainly caused, I reach out only to be turned down or ignored like an invalid Wal-Mart greeter; tossed aside and moched because of the appearance I once carried. Despite the years of separation and the monumenteous growth I've undergone, I remain the emotion Richard Nixon to many and only remembered by how I let them down.

You've read my blogs. You've seen and commented on my "woe is me" cries for validation. I have begged and pleaded with the world for just a grain of true acceptance and an ounce of my dignity back. For a long time I have stayed on my knees in prostrate and inflicting more damage on myself than anyone could possibly imagine. I lost everything a man needs to survive. I lost money, friends, a fiancé and respect…what else is left? I waddled into a corner of defeat and began to slowly let myself deteriorate thinking my life was over. I dated women that could only reflect how much I valued myself at the time. In them I looked for just a fraction of the happiness I thought I had when I was engaged. Maybe a future? Maybe genuine affection? Instead I, TOO MANY TIMES became a trophy boyfriend. The guy that would spend endless amounts of money to keep them happy. It's all I had left…the ability to sustain a relationship with the crutch of money. I was lost, confused and just ready to die.

At wits ends, I wrote a personal ad and posted it on craigslist.com. I was very detailed in what I was looking for and who I was. I wanted someone that could mirror the monstrous cache of happiness I had stored and locked away. I wanted someone who could hold my hand and in such an act make me the happiest man in the world. I needed someone that wasn't planning on going anywhere for a while, but most importantly, I needed someone that believed in me. Someone that saw me, listened to me and cheered me on like a late breaking race horse. I thought I was asking for the world when I asked for someone that looked hot in pajamas and no make up yet stunning in an evening dress. Someone educated, with moral conviction, goals and ambition. A person who loved watching a movie while cuddled up on the couch just as much as they would going to a black tie event. There was the usual as well: non-smoker (period, not even while drinking), thin, attractive, enjoys traveling and long walks on the beach and so forth. I really wasn't hoping for much and almost anticipated what I would be reading in the replies that I got. Young women who were raised "going to church" and tout themselves as "very spiritual" yet smoke (but only when they drink) and still live in their parents basement. I realized that what I was after was probably an illusive dream and in fact I was going to end up one of those 30 something bachelors driving a Porsche to my one bedroom apartment…alone.

I had given up. I was ready to succumb to the notion that I was a total loser. I was the guy that had made so many mistakes in his early life that it would haunt him until he died. Reality wasn't difficult for me to embrace, especially with my ex-fiancés little brother sending me messages on facebook reminding me of how much of a "loser" I really was. As I prepared to delete my ad from craigslist as a symbol to the world that I have finally reached the lowest level of misery and self hate, I opened one last reply and was blown out of the water. Friends…she was beautiful. Not the kind of beautiful I told my ex-girlfriends they were because I felt I had to…but drop dead gorgeous. I thought it was a joke. I was suddenly more self conscious than I had ever been. Prior mental conditioning from years of emotional pummeling has trained me to scramble for ANY pictures that could possibly make me look like a less than good Christian, dim the "light I am to the world" and hence portray me as a bad example to society. After everything was in the clear…I replied hesitantly. You see folks, at this point, I was about as good with women as a palsy victim is while play darts with traffic cones. I suddenly felt like an idiot and for a moment, had every word of my response highlighted for deletion. I thought "What if she finds out what I've done…who I was? Will she leave me?" Now, however, I feel it was God himself (and maybe the 9 diet Mountain Dews I drank) that caused the muscle twitch that made my finger click the send button.

So now here we are…her and I. Addicted to spending time with each other. This is most likely the part of the blog where the majority of my readers tune out and go back to whatever else it was they were doing. This girl…likes me for me. She doesn't demand I entertain her when she is bored or stare at me with mutant heat vision anytime I enjoy an alcoholic beverage. She knows my downfalls in life and where I've come up short, but rather than keep me down by reminding me of my mistakes, she shows me the lesson that can be learned from them. She rubs my back without me asking. She kisses me when I'm not looking. We plan dinner parties with friends as often as we plan movie nights for just the two of us. She goes to church with her Mom, but doesn't judge me for the sins of my past.

Folks, it's been a long run for me. I've dated a lot, and I mean A LOT of mistakes. I dated girls with the personalities of glue sniffing zombies, bi-sexual evolutionists, and Iraqi nurses' hell bent on making me feel like a food stamp collecting heathen vagrant. This girl however…treats me like I'm worth something. This young woman of Model Behavior reminds me that it's not about who I was, but who I am now. My friends…we all deserve the best. Take it from me, someone who thought he was on his way to the best years of his life. I had it all stripped away due to my foolish shenanigans but now…live a life better than I could ever imagine. Sometimes we go through a desert or a dry spell and it is painful to even wake up in the morning knowing that there is nobody to call or check in with. The pain we have to endure hearing and seeing other couples interact while we head home and eat our easy mac alone and watch the cartoon network is an all time low. I'm reminded of my most recent trip to the Middle East and my first sergeant said "While you are here, do something to better yourself." My friends, we have our deserts, but that doesn't mean we have to die in them. This young woman of mine…has shown me just how beautiful life is. THAT my friends is what's waiting at the end of your struggle…life. Take it from me, someone who hated every angle of his existence for the past 6 years. I love how slow life was then…simply because of how quickly I'm falling for this girl now. Hang in there my friends…life and love is waiting.

9:40 PM - 42 Comments - 48 Kudos - Add Comment

The strength in humiliation
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

My friends…someone said something to me today that sent me into a fit of rage. They said that they believed they have the ability or at least know someone who could make me cry simply by bringing up the sins of my past. When I heard it, I froze, partially out of disbelief but mostly out of bewilderment. They were completely serious. It got me thinking "Is there anyone else out there that thinks they can hold a trump card over my head like that?" Are there really people that think they can try to whittle me down to size or view bringing up my past as an advantage? To all those ignorant enough to think they can weaken my poise by resurrecting ghosts, you couldn't be more off base.

 I've made my mistakes, I can't lie. I've done some of the most dreadful and God awful things at least I can think of. The prices I had to pay socially and personally far out way any financial set back I might have suffered. I lost friends, respect, responsibility and what was once a spotless legal record. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY is to blame but me. Sheer acts of stupidity mixed with what I felt at times were desperate solutions for desperate measures. Out of it all however, I kept my head as high as I could keep it. When what seemed like the world was pummeling me with shouts of disgust and anger, I stood there and took it…never once lashing back or feebly trying to proclaim my innocence. Deep down I held on to one very important fact: They can only kick me for so long. With every slanderous word spoken in my direction, I accepted it. For every person that wanted to walk out on me, I opened the door. For those that wanted to call me a fool, I said it first. I didn't fight, I apologized. I dropped to my knees and announced to the world that I was an imperfect human being. I failed myself, my God and my loved ones and I never once asked for a shred of my dignity back. Out of it all, I gained one very important virtue…strength. Like a weathered boxer, I took the punches and with each one I got stronger. The same punches that beat me down are now met eye to eye. Now, instead of screaming apologies, I stare back and say "You want to say something? Then say it". I don't cower when people want to remind me of my short comings. When things from my past are brought up I don't clam up, walk away and sulk. I don't point fingers and try to pass the blame onto others. I did what I did and I'll tell anyone that wants to hear it. Why? Because I learned a lesson. I learned the value of forgiveness. I learned that people may knock you down, but the only person that can keep you down is yourself. I learned that nobody is perfect. I also know this…I'm stronger because of it all. I'm better now than I ever was. I'm bigger, smarter, faster and more hell bent on being number one. I lost a fiancé, but I've gained someone I can't even BEGIN to thank God enough for. I've lost money but gained it all back threefold. I hated God…despised Him…now I can't live without Him. He has given me everything.

 My friends…we've all been stupid and I'm probably on the top of the mountain. I've lied about who I am, who I was and who I'm going to be countless times. I've been in fights, some lost some won. I've stolen from churches and friends and betrayed people I love. I've never done drugs but had a drinking habit that helped me find my way to the back of a police car and a suspended drivers license. I've been a kissing fool and dated morons. I've watched porn, bought porn and sold porn. To this day, years later, I still face the sting of my ill fated decisions, but I am my worst critic. I may be ashamed of who I was, but I am honored to be the man that I am. Don't ever let someone try to keep you in place because of what you've done. Let them kick, punch, yell, scream and shove all they want. It can only last for so long before you build a Superman like pain tolerance, and only an idiot would try to punch the Man of Steel. So you wanna take that first shot? You can start by kissing my ass…you'll never know strength like mine.

As always...thanks for reading, and keep smiling - Ken

1:39 PM - 15 Comments - 15 Kudos - Add Comment

Gentlemen’s Anonymous
Category: Friends

So where do I go from here? Every single day I wake up, I decide to change something in my life to make it better. For the past 5 years I've lived the life of a very bad man making mistake after mistake. I embarrassed family, betrayed the trust of friends and fell for the cheap tricks of women simply wanting to gain my attention for their own entertainment. At the height of it all, I get an OWI or what I now consider a wake up call. God's way of saying "Ken Kealey…wake up stupid. Do I have your attention now?" So here I am evolving at such a rapid pace I really don't know how to keep up. The one thing that brings me to my knees is how obviously stupid I was. Likewise I am rebounded out of my moments of happiness when my ferocious anger wells up after I think about the times I was toyed with. So unapologetically dangled and made to believe that someone cared but in reality simply enjoyed having someone's (mine to be exact) unshakable attention. They say that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Well let me tell you this: There is no measure of cold, no harder surface, no razor sharper than a gentleman betrayed. We have the innate ability to disown you yet treat you with the respect you never afforded us. We don't call those that scarred us friends, but in the same we don't broadcast their name as an enemy. They are simply passed over and left to socialize and be with their own kind.

I should however be thankful. It's the contempt of such people that has brought me to where I am today. Starving and desperate for so much more out of life. A new friend made the casual comment that I should try speaking (as in public speaking). Apparently some would think I have a gift for it. I desperately want to dive into some sort of a ministry but exactly what I'm not sure. I'm tired of those people that automatically assume they are called to "preach". I'm not a preacher…I'm an energizer. I feel like a rock star with out a band. I have so much energy to let out but have no idea what outlet I should be trying to plug into. I feel like I want to reach out to people of the same vein. People who have been hurt, teased, confused, led on or feel abandoned. People who have been raped of their smiles but so badly want to smile again. Kinda like a Gentleman's Anonymous (women could be a part too). A group of people that have so much to give but have been left out to dry too many times to know where to start. We all have stories to tell and I am sure want to get the stress out. To wage war on the people that are living a happy life at our expense and take our lives back. Wouldn't it be fun just to rent out a cabin or something and spend a weekend singing, laughing and sharing our stories? Like a spiritual spa treatment. You leave the weekend feeling like a million dollars and having lifted untold amounts of stress off you shoulders.

So there it is…I want more. I want to smile, laugh, cry, play and all do it with a rejuvenating twist. I want to be a part of something where everyone involved is making a difference in each others lives. Our sole mission is to combat the jerkwads that falsely made us believe we meant something to them, accomplished by finding meaning in each other and in Christ. We don't have to lie down and roll with the punches. After having every finger pointed at us, its time we point back with a righteously indignant fist. So what will it be? Are you curious to know what else life has to offer? Life may be good but don't you want to see if it can be incredible? Shakespeare once wrote "To be, or not to be: that is the question:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?" So many of us have had to watch people prosper and find happiness only after they were willing to sacrifice ours. They made promises to "stay friends" but showed the opposite. Let them suffer the pain of their fortune, but us... lets fight the pain and have a blast doing it.

 As always…thanks for reading, and keep smiling - Ken 

8:13 PM - 11 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Get M.A.D
Current mood: determined
Category: Friends

I'm tired. I am tired of being just another person, every day and just mixed in with every other person who is just "another person". Friends, family, myspace drifters…I've had enough. How many of you have lived a life where everyone has told you that you have a higher calling? Potential? That you are cut out to be something…someone great. Right now, I'm nothing great. I'm just a man…and that isn't enough.

I want to be someone, but not just anyone. I want to be an on fire, unstoppable force of a man. I want to make a difference, here, other countries, next door, I really don't care. I just know that there is so much more out there and in life to live and share and yet here I sit, day in, and day out, planning how I can live tomorrow exactly like I lived it today. I can feel something that I can't really describe welling up inside of me. It literally hurts but it's the kind of strain that a water balloon would feel before it bursts. I'm ready to explode.

Just what do I want to be? I want to be a man of God, above anything else. I want to be a man that falls to the feet of Christ every single day. I want to wake up in the morning and be so thankful I am alive because I know that God intended every day of my life to be what dreams are made of. I want to hit the world with such a shockwave that it rattles the bones of those that are just living life for the sake of living it. I want to let loose an electrifying energy and such an intense passion that has been building inside of me for 28 years. When I say I want to be somebody, I mean I want to be me. Who am I? I am a servant of God. I am a warrior for the most incredible, loving, and compassionate creator of all things. I'm sick of living a life that on the outside makes me look like I am a fresh faced bar hopper ready to hit whatever scene anywhere or at any time, yet on the inside I am as hollowed out and rotted as a stump in the woods.

Far too many times in life do people settle for mediocrity. They look at life or the lives of their would be significant others and think…"Yeah. This'll do." But then they never think that this is what life could be like forever. The mother of a very good friend of mine and likewise blood relative once told my mom that she purposefully raised her children to be average. She brought them up practicing and believing that average life, mundane and non-accomplishing life is the best life to live. Granted, this is just an example of the extreme, but think about what you are or who you have in your life. Are they on fire or are they just warm enough? Are you high octane or just comfortably moving? Some people would tell me that they are happy with just keeping things calm, collected and not expecting much out of themselves or anyone else. They are fine with not being a president, general or highly influential person. They like the wall flower club just fine. Well let me tell you something, its people like that who are only living to be forgotten. Why wouldn't someone want to live life with the ambition and dedication to make the world just a little bit better every day?

Friends, I know that not all of you share the same religious beliefs that I do, but one of the greatest scriptures I have ever read and is also widely popular in the Christian faith can also be used as a learning tool here. Revelations 3:15,16 says "I know your deeds, and what you have done with your life that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot. 16 So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth."

This is to say that if you are living a life with no definition, no bearing…not making the difference, then you are nothing at all. Be somebody.

You may not agree with what I am saying and hold fast that it's ok to "take a break in life". The great thinker Voltaire of the Enlightenment Era once said "I may not agree with what you are saying, but I will fight to the death defending your right to say it". That's the difference between me and you, even in disagreeing, I'm still trying to make a difference in the world.

So friends, allow me to introduce The M.A.D Experiment (The Make a Difference Experiment). This is a group that I am putting together of people, like me, that want more out of life but want to improve themselves by helping to improve others. I have teamed up with various organizations such as The Free Hugs Campaign, Habitat for Humanity, Milwaukee Outreach and many others all with the intention to make a difference and start spreading the word that being somebody…starts by being somebody. Nothing we do requires money. All that is needed…is you. The beautiful, intellectually eager, emotionally frustrated you. We need the people that selfishly want to make a difference in their lives by selflessly making a difference in the lives of others. We need the people that don't want to live life wondering if there is more. We need people of power, spirit and excitement and will stop at nothing to get more of it. If you are interested in answering this challenge then please message me and I will let you know when and where the first M.A.D experiment will be. The ball is in your court friends. To quote the movie Gladiator "what you do from here, will echo for eternity".

As always…thanks for reading, and keep smiling - Ken 

6:41 PM - 7 Comments - 15 Kudos - Add Comment

Gentlemen use their fists
Category: Romance and Relationships

The process of re-inventing oneself is a tricky thing. Very recently I came to the decision that I did not like who I was or at least who I was trying to be. I felt empty. It was as if I was just going through the motions in life, wasting away countless days trying to get everyone that came into my line of sight to like me. It was a shallow life, and I was consumed with the pursuit of approval. I just wanted to be cool. It's a need that was seeded in me decades ago. I can partially blame being raised a sheltered son of ministers. Time and time again I had to witness people storming off and packing up and simply abandoning our church. Why? Because they didn't agree with my parents. Mind you, we aren't the type of church that kisses rattle snacks or has people spontaneously collapse to the ground and start twitching like an epileptic. We are a church like any other church. The funny thing is about small church communities is that everyone thinks they have a better idea and when they disagree with the leaders, rather than stay and sort things out…they leave the fellowship and claim to be martyrs. As a child, when people or families would leave, that meant my friends in that family would leave too. I never had friends that stayed around. And so I began to evolve into this fragile human being that mastered the craft of brown-nosing. Why? Because if people like me, it will make all that more difficult for them to leave me. I combine this with a very traumatic high school career, one that left me a social train wreck, and I am just now starting to pick up the shattered pieces of me off the floor and put them back together.

I have surrounded myself with people and friends that I thought would launch me into a place where I would always be loved, accepted and valued. Oddly enough, the friends that I've had have faded away are now just memories that once in a while pop back into the picture and reminisce about the good ol' days. I wasn't limited to just friends and social scenes. For ever I thought that being in a serious relationship would complete me and help me mend so many open wounds. I whittled away and spent hours on hours on women. I tried to woo them and entice them with my kind words, soft touch and endless show of affection. Poems, blogs, gifts, surprises…you name it, and yet here I am, no better off now than I was when I first started. Women are cruel creatures at times. Women don't want men with bleeding hearts, open arms and smiling eyes. Guys aren't supposed to give nice hugs, be poetic or uncharacturicticly romantic. Women don't want guys that are more in touch with their feminine side than they are. That has been my mistake for far, far too long. I've been the romantic pansy.

Sometime ago, I wrote a blog entitled "Finding William Wallace" in which I detailed my desire to be a better person. I didn't want to be the knight in shining armor. The knight that has never done anything for himself but rather just hoped people would like his shiny suit. I just didn't know how. For my entire life I was convinced that my life purpose was simply to impress people. Folks, I am a God fearing man. He is the only person I need to impress. I want to be the best person that I can be in everything. People don't make you who you are…only you can decide that. I have led a life that to some would seem ok to live, but I have failed myself. I am not the big partier, beer drinking, foul mouthed life of the party. I am not a ladies man nor do I want to be. I've come to terms with the fact that I have to be at a place where I am the best man I can be, even if it is the loneliest place on Earth. For Christ, for my family, for anyone that may look up to me, and for myself.

Who am I then? Proverbs 24: 14, 16 "So shall you know skillful and godly Wisdom to be thus to your life; if you find it, then shall there be a future and a reward, and your hope and expectation shall not be cut off. 16 For a righteous man falls seven times…but rises again." I'm the man that has gotten up for one last round. I'm the guy that has woken up from a coma. I'm the guy that defends the truly chivalrous. The men that educate themselves endlessly, go to the gym religiously, shun backwards baseball caps and instead comb their hair. I'm from the breed that pays women with the highest respect one can pay…by leaving them alone. I'm the guy that has done enough impressing, chasing, swooning and begging. I'm the guy that will maintain the mystery as to why I'm single. The answer will always be, because he doesn't care.

I'm the guy that will take a night on the couch with a bottle of wine and a book over a night of tequila shots and bars full of drunken Shrek like beings and women that can have their attention purchased for a fruity cocktail. I want friends that challenge, friends that make me feel like I am on the right road. I want a group of guy friends that can play pool but debate philosophy at the same time. I want a circle that can make fart jokes but still be the best dressed guys in the room. I want friends that won't settle. Friends that want the best things in life and will stop at nothing to get them. I want friends for life…not just friends for the night.

I may have fallen, but I'm not beaten, and like William Wallace, I will fight that much harder to stand back up. Forget the shining armor…I'll fight with my fists.

 As always, thanks for reading...and keep smiling - Ken

1:14 PM - 7 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment