Dog Bites and Bee Stings

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  • Can Jane Austen play wide receiver?

    “Do not give way to useless alarm,” added he; “though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.”

    That is a line from Pride and Prejudice, spoken by Mr. Gardiner as he is reassuring his sister, Mrs. Bennet, that everything might be okay with regards to her daughter Lydia, who appears to have ran off with Mr. Wickham to be married. 

    I think it is good advice to take as Bills fans, or any fans, approach an important and emotional contest. This thing could end sooner than any of us imagine. It would be foolish to be assured of anything, positive or negative, but it would be more foolish still to not be prepared for both. Or, perhaps you don’t need to be prepared for the best outcome because that is met with ease and readily accepted. But to be prepared for the negative outcome, to be prepared for all your hopes and dreams to be swept away as if you don’t even exist, is important if you want to avoid a major crash out after everything turns to shit. We have been in this position before, and we have seen the team fall. I won’t ignore the past. I remain guarded. Go Bills.

  • Bills – Broncos

    A local sports talk radio host, a guy at work, and a cousin of mine all seem very confident the Bills will beat the Broncos tomorrow. That is a sample size of three, enough for me to say “Man, everyone in town is really confident the Bills will win!” Sports predictions are funky. If people knew so much about sports, would casinos be as rich as they are? But I admit, sometimes I am one of the confident ones. I go strictly off gut feeling. Maybe other people, like the host and the co-worker and the cousin, know things and have seen evidence in the past that make them more comfortable going into this game. For me, it’s all visions and hope and delusion. At least we aren’t playing the Chiefs, although I might feel more confident if we were playing those guys. Go Bills.

  • A Snowy Day

    Western New York woke up to snow this morning. The snow continued all day but was very light and fine and did not accumulate to such an amount as to cause much trouble on the roads. It did look a bit messy but all in all, I thought travel went smoothly. The only hiccup personally felt was that I, while listening to sports talk radio guys discuss Super Bowl MVP odds, stopped for a while at a flashing red light as if it were a regular red light. A word of praise for the car behind me for not laying on their horn and both enraging me and embarrassing me more than I already was when I realized what I had done. How long was I stopped for? Possibly not long but still, come on, focus on what you are doing!

  • A Donation

    Today, while at work, I decided to donate my microwave. At 3:33 PM, I arrived home and immediately Googled “donating a microwave.” I had to get stuck in right away if I wanted to actually get the microwave out of my apartment. I learned that Savers accepted electronics, and I could see the microwave plugged into an electric outlet, therefore it was an electronic.

    I unplugged the machine and took it from the small table it had been on to my kitchen counter to soap it up and wash it down. It hadn’t gotten very dirty over the years but infrequent washing (its a dang microwave for crying out loud) meant some things had gotten stuck on it or inside of it. I didn’t want grime and crumbs to be the reason they rejected my donation and I, after some cleaning, shrugged and said “Good enough.” Whoever ends up owning it will probably wash it themselves to get the second-hand store stink off. I loaded the microwave into the trunk of my car and drove to Savers.

    Once near Savers, I pulled into an abandoned parking by accident and saw an old guy and what looked like a younger man wearing jeans and a jean coat getting out of a car. It looked like they were going to Savers too, but wanted to avoid the congestion of the actual lot. The old man was looking at me as if I was in the wrong while I looked at him and wondered how he was going to hurt that young boy. I minded my own business and executed a three-point turn. I pulled out of that lot and into the correct lot and as I drove, I voiced my desires out loud. “I do not want to deal with small talk and stupid workers. This better not take forever.” I assumed this would be easy but my thirty-four years of living told me it would be more difficult than necessary.

    I saw a “Donation Center Entrance” sign to the left of the main entrance and drove there. I thought maybe I’d have to walk the microwave in myself, which I didn’t mind as long as it went smoothly once inside. As I drove, I saw the old man from earlier walking into the store with, who I had thought was, a young boy. The young boy in denim turned out to be an older lady, probably the dude’s wife. Sorry for judging, sir. 

    At the Donation Center, I saw a line with two cars. I went to join the line. The front car quickly drove away, leaving only one car in front of me. I watched how that car was dealt with and rolled my passenger window down so I could speak when spoken to. The car ahead of me got taken care of in no time, and I pulled into the batters box with fingers crossed. The worker in a Bills hoodie came out to my car. I told him I had a microwave in the trunk. He said “Alright,” as he handed me a little voucher sized piece of paper, twenty percent off such and such. I put the car in park and unlocked the doors and hoped he would be able to figure out the trunk door. It felt like I was picking someone up at the airport, but without the overzealous airport security guards hovering. The worker got the trunk open, grabbed the microwave, closed the trunk, and walked away saying “Alright man, have a good one. Go Bills.” I wondered if I was wearing a Bills hat when I knew I had a Dodgers hat on. I said “You too, brother. Go Bills!” It was probably the license plate holder and bumper sticker that gave my football allegiance away. The whole thing took about 45 seconds and I couldn’t have been happier.

  • The American Pastime

    I am the proud owner of an official Major League Baseball. Sometimes, when I am thinking, or stressed, or in a good mood, I lay in bed and use the baseball. I throw it up above me with my right hand, watch it spin, see my right hand catch it, and hear it smack against my palm and fingers. Then, I throw it up again. 

    My father has described a baseball as “a perfect object,” and I find it hard to disagree with him. It’s a very simple object, fun to spin in your hand, and it fits in most hands comfortably. It’s hard not to try out different grips while handling a baseball. Maybe I’ll go with a four-seamer, or a two-seamer, or a curveball. The change-up grip is one I’ve never settled on. It’s a tricky pitch to get just right. I did a little pitching in high school and still have my glove I used back then. It’s one of my most cherished objects. If ICE ever comes for me and asks me to show my papers, I’ll just show them my glove and ball and tell them I’m red, white, and blue through and through.

    Speaking of ICE, I wonder when they will start hunting their own. Certainly some of those agents are here on faulty grounds. Maybe their ancestors came over from Europe and took over a country already occupied by people. Could be something to look into.

  • Stop Making Me Sad, Wind

    I sit in my bed and, through a window, have a view of trees off in the distance. They are swaying in the strong wind. The evening darkness and movement of the branches makes me uncomfortable and sad. It reminds me of the month of October. I think back to childhood and growing up in a good household but nights with weather like this always felt business-like. It would be the school year and Dad came home from work and we sat at the table for dinner and then did some homework and watched sports on TV. Mom probably ran out to the store and I hoped she would make it back alright. I don’t know why I had anxiety growing up but I did and still do. Lighting and weather go far in determining the mood of the world and I am sensitive to that. The month leading up to Halloween is the true death of summer without the cheerful snow of winter. That’s why I don’t like Halloween. It’s a nasty time of angst and anxiety and I can’t help but associate the crappy weather with the holiday that so many love. I didn’t think I would write about Halloween on January 12th but regardless of time of year, when inspired, I can find a way to throw shade at that holiday. 

  • Uninspired.

    It’s mid-afternoon on January 10th. The walls of my living room are painted a subtle off-white, it’s gloomy outside, and I have no lights on inside. Everything inside and outside appears gray. It’s not inspiring. It feels rather sad. Tonight, some members of my family are going out for my mother’s birthday. It is a social event that causes me stress because of the lack of emotional connection I have with many of these people. I will try to swallow my pride and get through the small talk and bland conversations. It is not about me today. I will need to remind myself of that.

  • The Windy Walk

    Around seven this evening, I left my apartment to walk around the block twice. It was windy, which added to my enjoyment. I wore a big winter coat and tucked my hands up into the sleeves. Doing so made me feel like a little kid wearing an oversized coat, which made me smile. I looked down to the sidewalk and chuckled at my sleeve’s shadow with missing hands. I lowered my shoulders and let go of the tension I had been holding in. 

    I’ve had family on my mind tonight. It has long been a feeling of mine that my wishes and words are not heard, that I don’t get through to people. On this evening’s walk, with my hands up my sleeves, my shoulders lowered, and a lightness in my spirit, the thought hit me that maybe I do get through to people, but they choose to ignore what I say. I would call it a realization, but that would imply that what I thought was in fact true, and I’m not positive of that. Not every one of my wishes need to be granted, but we all want to be heard in order to feel respected and wanted in a given group. I think of myself as a good listener and perhaps because of that, I put a lot of value in others being good listeners themselves. I am a 49er, heading west to the gold rush, to find the rare element that is a good listener.  

  • Thursday, January 8th, 2026

    My current job wears me out. Thursdays have the Friday fatigue without the Friday ecstasy. However, there isn’t heavy breathing and sweating and back-breaking work. It is a mental fatigue. It is listening, and checking, and re-checking, and walking over here, and watching a clock, and waiting. Most of the conversation kills me. As I listen to my boss speak, I say to myself “This is exhausting.” The stress isn’t high, but the energy needed to get through the day is. I get home and think, “We hardly did anything today but I desperately need a nap.”

  • Go Bills

    The NFL playoffs are here. Life might be good this time next week as the Bills look forward to their next opponent or we might be in the gutter, yelling at each other about why Coach McDermott should be fired. It feels like life or death. I heard someone say once that part of the thrill of being a sports fan is that sports can bring great emotions out of us while not actually meaning anything. After all, they are just numbers on a scoreboard. We do risk things though, because people love making simple things complicated. We put money on the line, our personal relationships get strained, and our livers get tested. Maybe one February day it will all come together for the Bills and the suffering will be rewarded with a life-altering Super Bowl championship, which will swiftly be forgotten about the following autumn after a few bad plays and we will settle into our suffering once again. Go Bills.