Month: January 2014

Vintage Wine and an Indecisive Emperor

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It is a child on a temper tantrum, a brooding and scorned lover, a well of sweet promises, a cornucopia of dreams, and it is a detailed life story written in red ink. It is the heart. As a writer the one that comes most readily to mind is my own, and of course they say the best writing comes from personal experience. The two previous sentences were as cliché as they come because everybody has a heart and every writer will inevitably write about something they are familiar with, but please bear with me as we dive into this beast.

Our lives and hearts are inevitably marked with the photographs and captions of times in our past. When you look back do you find that your heart yearns for that certain someone? Take a minute and really consider this for a moment. Is there someone that you would have dropped all other tasks and engagements to be united with? Our hearts are the children within us that beg to see that favorite person again, and pulling our hands with hurried feet toward the direction of a love interest. And, when we finally have picked the apple of our eye from the tree of life… it ceases to shine and like Aphrodite’s golden apple it causes discord within us. For men, and please excuse the overly male metaphor here, it is as if were are gladiators or huntsmen. Dueling against ourselves in our hearts until we wear away the armor of logic and army ourselves with the crude tools of emotion, and once the victory has been won the trophy heart loses its luster.

Welcome to my world; with the exception of this being my present reality as well.

As I type these words it seems a cacophony of  “These Words” by Natasha Bedingfield,  John Mayer’s “Half of my heart” and the Counting Crows version of “Big Yellow Taxi” are playing within me. I know that the pressed grape wine of love has been poured into my cup, and yet I feel the desire to push it away in favor of another equally appealing vintage. The truly lamentable idea is that one cup has been already poured and the bottle cannot be returned, and I know that the bottle of white whine that glimmers in holy sunshine is being courted to another table. I, of course, harken my wine and my gladiator to the splendor of Roma. Of course what can be more romantic than a dinner at the Olive Garden, no?

Now for the Metaphor

And as I continue to watch the two Gladiators fight within me I partake of the wine that has been so graciously been poured for next to nothing. I glance over and I see that one Gladiator has his crimson blade resting on his throat. He awaits my thumbs vertical approval. To the left of me is an aged man full of thought and experience, and to my right is a young and wild, passionate, lover of many things. They both paddle on to each other about the merits and detriments of the situation I find myself in. And yet when it comes to giving the gladiator a decision… My eyes darting back and forth from the wild lover to the aged scholar. Each give me fair arguments and fiery passion, and yet neither one is convincing. What to do…?

I wave my hand in a noncommittal fashion and the fallen gladiator springs back to his feet and continues his bloody fight to the end.

Wine has a bitter taste and yet when consumed gives a pleasurable effect, and if taken without moderation robs us of our decision making. The security of my faculties brought low by the quick power of a sip of intoxicating love, but now my sense have returned do I realize I have entered the coliseum out of folly, and I desire a way out in sheer panic lest I strike out and destroy something beautiful.

The Emperor gives but two choices to a gladiator: Life or Death. I know to whom my heart wishes to live, but that is the losing Gladiator, and the victorious Gladiator I know deserves to be brought low.

And again, the red wine has been poured and cannot be returned to the bottle. I must drink. If I do not my fear and weakness will show, and someone will fall.

I am the Emperor. Now, I must decide.

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Visit the website in the description for ownership of this picture.
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Murphy Log: Wal-Mart Black Friday

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Friday 29th, 2013   12:01 AM

Ladies and Murphinators… I come before you in a state of disbelief.

BLACK FRIDAY.

  Now, why would the Murph write about such an alien ritual? No, need to ask, because I’ll tell you why. Because the exact reason why you’re hear right now: The Murph. 

 I had never heard of this Black Friday shenanigans until my darling, sweet mother yelled upstairs to my bachelor pad/game room “HONEY! BLACK FRIDAY!” Consequently I was playing ‘BLACK OPS’ and dominating with a kill streak of 0 kills and 10,000 deaths. I was so good my gun became a pacifist, because of all the slaughter-housing I was committing. So, when I heard my  mother cry out I tossed my X-box 180 (that’s what I call it, because I don’t need the extra 180) controller out of the open window and dashed/jigged my way down the stairs. I forgot my pants so I raced up stairs and found some parachute pants, and I threw on my best suit jacket coupled with my favorite Monster (from the Muppets) t-shirt on underneath, and returned to the landing to present my pulchritudinous self to my dearest mother.

  When she looked at me tears of joy filled her eyes and she said “Oh, my boy… Why do you have to dress like that?” And of course she meant that in a ‘you look like a Calvin Klein model dressed like that’ sort of way. With that, my fans, we hopped in our Volkswagen Bus, and scurried our way to the outlet stores. All the while the cool winter breeze was giving me high fives as I sat on the window (basically halfway out of the van), but don’t worry we were only stopped by a cop so that he could flash some strobe lights on me and to give my mom his signature so we could hang out and get a beer or something.

 And when we arrived to this desk drawer of a strip mall (I call places desk drawers because that’s where you have everything you need: pencils, socks, gum, maybe a slingshot, whatever). Mom, accidentally backed into some ‘limited edition’ Ferrari as she was parking, and the old guy stormed out of his car  and started hyperventilating with anger. He literally started stomping his feet into the ground, and breathing so hard his head lowered all the way to his chest and rose all the way back up to the crest of where his neck would allow. Now, hear me out: my theory is that he was SO mad he didn’t get a chance to meet me earlier. My mom was upset too, because all this geriatric needed to do was Google me and I’m on my Myspace!

 So, you know what I did? I walked up to him and said “No, need to fuss Grandpa time, I’m here now.” And he gave me this look of complete admiration that almost brought me to tears. I got in close and gave him a hug and whispered in his ear “Love is for the ants that search in the picnic basket.” I pulled away and looked him in the eyes, and I could that he felt the love, otherwise how would the vein in his forehead pump so much love into his heart?! I did a little cha-cha and gave him my signature wink and danced off into the neon sunset.

 AND now I finally make it into the store! 

 As I step on the black mat that serves as a welcomed mat to my grace the two glass doors part for me like magic. I scuttled up to the cash register and pulled the mic close in to me and depressed the button and said,” This is your DJ of delight, your General of Groove, your Master of Music, Your secretary of…” and just as I was getting through the first half the clerk pulled it away from me! He tried scolding me, but I waved my hand and shook my tush at him, and wandered off into the toy aisle.

 It was like a mad house in there! People were fighting just to get a glimpse at me. Women were tearing at each others weave, and children were plastic sword fighting to the death. Just a beautiful sight for any entertainer my age. I saw my mother even try to restrain a woman by throwing her into a pyramid of bath products! Ha!

   When, I finally found the “Etch-a-Sketch”, Batman action figures, and Yu-gi-oh! playing cards I was looking for I threw them up in the air and caught one with my face and the others I had to search for on the floor, but I’m tellin’ ya… I got mad talent. I hid them in my jacket, because I felt as if one of my fans might attempt to take something I touched and sell it on Ebay… So I took off like a shot to the front of the store and went up to the bright red cash register that said #1.

 The cashier looked at me and said “Uh, sir there’s a line in front of you.” He had a loud squeaky voice that would irritate the Bajeezus out of any normal, and sane human being.

 I guffawed and looked at this cashier named “M.G” and said “Look, pal I don’t see a line in front of me. In fact there is no line in front of me, so just ring up the masters’ goods and I will shake your hand.”

 He looked at me with his big buck teeth blinding me and with a trembling voice “Sorry, sir… um… please, don’t do this. I suck.”

 A customer tapped me on the shoulder and piped in “Hey, I’m next” he said angrily.

 I took the customers hand from my shoulder and balled it into a fist, and fist bumped him and replied “I know, man. This guy M.G just won’t shut-up and do his job. Retailers, ya know what I’m sayin’?”

 As I was conversing with the gentlemen in the leather jacket apparently the little weasel got in touch with his manager! And so this large heavy set man named Jo came out. He had a crew cut and a poorly kept mustache, and if I could accurate tell he had a large quarter sized drop of mustard on his white oxford shirt. I believe he came out and said “Who is this attractive young man with the cool haircut?”

 M.G scratched his neck nervously and answered “He cut the line, sir.” He looked as if he were about to #1 AND #2 at the sheer terror my awesomeness causes.

 The manager looked at me and said “Hey, man. You and me are cool. Don’t worry about this crap. I’ll buy you some pizza, but you have to wait on the pizza, is that cool?”

 I looked around to see where my mother had gone, but she was standing in the doorway tapping her wrist and sporting a shiner! I wanted to stay and hang out but my ma was ready and I said “Jo is it cool if we do this another time? I can’t have pizza right now.”

 So, I got out of line, and I’m sad to report… Batman was left behind to fight the toy stores crimes alone.

As I climbed in our white and turquoise ‘V dubyah’ I waved goodbye at all the happy people that came to wave goodbye with one finger. I sighed, because I feel bad knowing they might never see my radiance ever again.

Let me leave you with this little saying I created “Never leave a turkey in the fridge, because its friends might come to warm it up.” Make sense? Great I knew it would. 

Parting with me is such sweet sorry, but until next time friends. 

the murph