The Illusion of Big Boy Britches

Hey There,

     Okay I had a real first in my life and I've lived 64 years. I have a bucket list but this one sure wasn't on it. I had to have a tooth pulled without being put under. I've got to say, that for a week before, I was mentally getting ready for the worst. I couldn't write, I couldn't think, I couldn't even really listen to my one true love; Grace. I knew I had to get my big boy britches on because I was going to be in major pain for a long time and I wasn't going to be able to take anything but aspirin. (Last time I took Lortab and it caused my liver to stop producing prothombin 3 and my body threw a clot in my right leg. That was more painful than having all my uppers pulled.)
     Anyway, I was up for it. I was going to be a real man about it and I wasn't going to cry even though I wanted to even before I got to the dentist's office. I was pumped. I was ready. I could take on the world and let the pain come and the blood spill forth and I would fulfill my destiny and slay the mighty dragon of pain.
     I was prepared when they summoned me to the back room. All lit up and beautiful pictures on the ceiling as if I was some whore that needed distractions. I didn't. I wanted to deal with the pain. I wanted to fill my big boy britches. Then the long stemmed cotton swab came rushing into my mouth with something brown and ugly and pasty. I heard someone in the background say something like; "you can close your mouth now."
I knew it was a trick. Something that looked that ugly couldn't taste good. It reminded me of ipecac. They were going to make me throw up, stick a pin in my butt and then reach in and grab and yank my tooth out. I'd fool that dentist. Nothin was going to make me throw up.
     Five minutes later someone in the background asked. "You can let go of the swab now if you want?" I knew as soon as air hit the thing I was going to throw up. I'd fool them. I didn't throw up. I kind of wanted to just so I could throw up on the guy that was going to hurt me; put me in so much pain that I'd rather have a gun shot wound to the gut.
     Then this fake kind voice said something like he was going to take this needle and give me a couple of shots. I was ready for that half inch pipe with a sharp end to plow through all the skin covering my mandible. I still had my big boy britches on and hadn't messed in them yet. I was going to show them all. Bring it on. I can take it.
     Next thing I heard was that damn voice in the background again. Pretending to be all nicey, nicey saying. "Okay we'll give that ten minutes....." That's all I heard. I wasn't going to listen to the fool. He wasn't going to fool me. I knew better. I had my big boy britches on. My momma didn't raise no idiot. MAMA  MAMA.(Did I say that out loud?) The woman is dead. Where are they when you need them.
     Someone sat back down next to me. My eyes flitted all around the room and this guy finally came into focus. There was something in my eyes that was awful. They were going to blind me so that I couldn't recognize them in a line up. I'd fool them. I had my big boy britches on and I was going to see both of them.
     The man threatened to put this huge screw in my mouth if I didn't open it. I fooled him. I opened my mouth. hah. He went in with the half inch pipe again and was out in a matter of seconds. See I can take it. There'd be no whining from the peanut gallery today.
     Then the Holy Mother of Pliers came towards my mouth. I had to stop him.
     "I want to take a look at what's going in my mouth there Bubba."
     "You really don't want to see these....trust me."
     Yeah trust me. Yeah I'll trust you just as soon as I can pull off my big boy britches and put them around your neck. I kept a wary eye on his face. I knew if something went wrong I could tell by the look in his eyes. It's always in the eyes. They are the windows of the soul. Once I thought of that, I knew I was in trouble. Dentists have no souls. I was going to have to close my mouth and bite his fingers off except the dirty putz got up from his chair and left the room. He said something, but again it was faded and in the background. I looked down to see if he had stolen my big boy britches. I wanted to go home with them in tack. I looked around to see this smiling face looking down at me saying.
     "You're all done. When ever you feel like getting up feel free."
     I thought to myself. Feel free to do what, then I looked over at her little table and I saw this tooth laying in a pan. I could tell it was mine because of the sharp corners from breaking. Suddenly it dawned on me that half my mouth was numb. Half my tongue was numb and where there had been an abscess there was no pain.
     I sniffed the air to see if I should be embarrassed because my big boy britches were maybe a little dirty. I had brought a change of underwear just in case. I felt my cheeks to wipe away the cry baby tears but there were none. I sat up to see if I was going to fall over from some illicit drug they gave me. I looked at my watch to see if there was time that I couldn't account for.
     I watched with a wary eye to make sure there had been no funny business. This whole business was beginning to hack me off. Where was the pain I was to endure. Where was the pints of blood spilling out of my mouth. Where was the nausea. I really had wanted to throw up on the dentist just to show my disgust of the whole group of savages. BUT NOOOOOO.

Bob  

Born to do what I'm doing

Hey There,

     I wanted to tell you all that I'm still not dead but working hard trying to get my life in order so that I can start marketing my books. While reading an article on marketing there was a question asked that I had never really asked myself. "Why are you writing this book?" I had to think. Was it because I wanted to make a great deal of money? Yeah sure. Ninety percent of us authors are screaming with so much money we could take care of the national debt. Again "Yeah sure".
     So I asked myself the same question again and came up with the possibility that it was fame and notoriety. Nooottt. The last thing I want is to be on some fame pedestal so that I can take cheap shots from the cheap seats. That's not my bag. I've never really had thick skin. Critique is one thing Criticism is another. There are a lot of Simon Cowel's out there that just love to be rude and ruthless. I don't intend on giving them a chance at my throat.
     I finally came to the answer late that night. It was way to simple and that was why it alluded my superior brain. (cough, sputter) I wanted to give to people what books had done for me. I wanted to entertain and take someone away from all the strain of daily living and let them live somewhere else for just a little while. Somewhere where they new at the end of the day everything was going to work out just fine and that "Right" would always win over "Wrong" and "Good" would always win over "Evil".
     My real world never or hardly ever gets to be in that world unless I'm writing. Then I get to always get the bad guy and the guy always get's the girl or the girl always gets the guy and everyone lives happily ever after.
     When I was growing up, what has stayed with my heart forever, was the Disney movies and musicals that always had the happy ending and they all lived happily ever after. It always made sense to me that life should be like that. That's also the reason why I'm with Grace and we are living happily ever after.
     Back to the reason why I write. Besides entertaining people there is one more reason. I can't do anything else. This is really what I was born to do, it's just a shame I started doing it so late in life. I'm not sure I can live long enough to write everything that I need to write. I keep hoping that the real Power to be will let me have enough time to get it all down on paper. That will be my happy ending.

Bob

What I love to do

Hey There,

     Thought I was dead for a while but nooooot. I've been working on getting my books online and creating the real books for the people that just have to have a physical book in there hands at night while laying in bed to wander off into never, never land. My characters do go off into far away places at times hunting down drug or human traffickers, or just finding a new set of elements of chemistry that the Mayan people were given by aliens. That's all in "The Friday Night Dance Club". That one was a great one to write.
     I've also been working my fool head off helping people in my apartment building. I created a Art, Gift and Bake Sale that all of us old folks have jumped into. It's one of the most satisfying things I've done in my life. People that haven't been out of their apartments for months at a time are finding a renewed sense of purpose and are working to produce something for sale.
     I didn't let them put in their rummage, they had to create something from scratch. Leather work, dishcloths, clothing lines, plastic canvas art and even frames that use Lake Superior rocks. We just finished our 3rd sale and it was a great success. The bake sale and lunch sales netted a good profit for our 501C3 not for profit organization. The money goes for taking us old farts to different events like the Maritime Museum, Pontoon Boat rides down the St Louis river and on and on and on. One by one I'm getting people up and doing something instead of sitting and watching the boob tube.
     Grace, my greatest cheerleader and wife constantly pushes although she's had a severe Vitamin D deficiency which is a whole other blog. One day I'll get into the trials and tribulations that she's been through.

Thanks for listening,
Bob