Category Archives: Humor

The Social Life of my Grandma

Posted on June 14, 2007 | 2 comments

I adore my grandmother. (G-ma, as I call her) I really do. She was a huge influence on me while I was growing up. Strike that. She still is a huge influence on me. Because frankly, she has taught me that I still am growing up.

This is probably my favorite thing about G-ma. She doesn’t subscribe to the notion that one is growing until they reach the top of “the hill,” and then they preceed to start dying for the remaining 40+ years of their life. She always lives her life like she hasn’t reached the pinnicle yet.

Now, to paint a better picture of G-ma, I should mention that she isn’t one for sitting around her house waiting for her family to stop by so that she can impart her wisdom. No. She imparts her wisdom by living her life. After her first husband (my grandpa) died, she kept living. She went to hockey games with her friends. She took trips to Mexico with her friends. She just kept enjoying life. And, she was open to another relationship–even after 40+ years of marriage to the same man. When her second husband of 10 years passed away, she still believed that life wasn’t over just yet. She is currently dating another wonderful man.

I went down to South Texas last December to visit her where she stays for the winter. And let me just say, I was amazed by what I experienced. These people (mostly 60+) were living just like a bunch of 20 year olds. It was truly incredible. For the four days I was there, I went to 4 “jam sessions” where they “hang out” and dance and sing and eat and “goof off.” Yes, 80 year olds goofing off. I also went about town meeting all of G-ma’s friends. We ate. We shopped. We ate. We shopped. I was totally and completely worn out. Yet, it was a life-changing time for me.

I realized that life is not over ’til it’s over. A lot of things can go wrong in life. You can achieve your goals. You can survive your losses. But, most importantly you can choose to keep existing or you can choose to keep living. G-ma’s choice is clear.

I want to be just like G-ma when I get to my eighties. Well, with one qualification. I probably won’t wear any cute matching denim outfits set off by a nice shade of lipstick and a dark brown perm. But, then again, I just might.

2 Comments

Posted in Family, Food for Thought, Humor

I’m done with it.

Posted on June 8, 2007 | 2 comments

I like how my friend “Juan” puts it. There’s a reason you get sick. Some negative energy or stress in your life is rearing its ugly head. This makes you sick. Or, better, when you are stressed, your body is busy dealing with that. Your defenses are down. And, you get sick. And believe me I am sick. I’ll spare you the gory details of my sinus and ear infection…it’s not pretty. But, it got me thinking about how I have always done this. I always get sick when I get stressed.

Normally, I have this natural tension valve that automatically shuts off at the first sign of too much stress. I just quit. Stop working. My college roommate Chris knows exactly what I am talking about. He loves to tell stories about how we would both be working on “important” papers; and, at about 11:00 pm the night before it was due I would be in bed with the paper done…or not. Actually, as he puts it, I would start to yawn and stretch and whine and end up asleep in bed while he stayed up until 5:00 am finishing his paper. I cannot tell you how many papers never were finished because of this tension shut-off valve. It’s a miracle I ever graduated from college. And, I’m not sure who’s more amazed…me or Chris.

I’ve already told the story of how, when I was in 1st grade, I just froze and “shut off” when the stress of writing my letter to Santa got to be too much. (read “I’m Special”) But, another time comes to mind. When I was a kid, I was dragged to every sporting event in Pleasantville, Iowa. And, believe it or not there was a time when I actually “played” in sports. In third grade, I was signed up for little league baseball. It lasted… until the stress of playing got to be too much. I think somewhere in the Clark family photo archives there is probably a picture of me sitting in the outfield picking dandelions right below a sign that read “Winners Never Quit and Quitters Never Win!!!” Obviously, the sign had no affect on me whatsoever. Clearly, baseball was just too stressful.

Two years later I walked off the court in the middle of a little league basketball game because the coaches wanted to play “shirts vs. skins.” This meant I would have to take off my shirt. And, this definitely qualified as a too much stress moment. That was it, no more little league basketball for Tyler. (An interesting side note: one of my few other encounters with basketball occurred in junior high. I was asked to video tape the high school girls varsity team’s games. This lasted only because it meant I could travel–my first step into the travel industry–to other sprawling cites like Prairie City, Eddyville…you get the idea. Also, it was an opportunity to be artistic, which I know was appreciated by the basketball girls.)

When I am done…I am done. Finished. I couldn’t go any further if I tried. Unfortunately, in my adulthood I have learned to bypass my stress threshold. And, when I do that, I get sick. This whole decision process pushed me beyond what my body could handle. (read “It’s hot as hell up in here“) The biggest reason I didn’t decide to take the job was that it was going to be too stressful. I really believe I made the right decision. And, now I am done.

2 Comments

Posted in Food for Thought, Gay, Humor, My Life, The College Years

Kiss Kiss

Posted on May 30, 2007 | 1 comment

What a weekend. I got home from a 4-day trip last Friday, ready to enjoy a nice long Memorial Day weekend. However, my sinuses had a different idea for my days off. Friday night the aches began, and by Saturday morning, I had a full-blown sinus infection. Fuck. Well, as they say, the show must go on. I had lots of plans for the weekend; and, I was not about to let this ruin it. I just would have to become a druggie doped up on ibuprofen with a nasal decongestant back.

On Sunday, Jeff and I went out with the gang to see the excessively-hyped “Pirates of the Carribbean 3.” Arrrrrrggggh! When the gang showed up, we proceeded to go through our standard greetings, involving lots of hugging and dare I say… kissing. Now, I was fully prepared with a skull and crossbones warning about my sickness. “Beware maties….stay away from the dastardly and infirmed Pirate Lord Sir Tyler of the Castro!!” (Ok, so in reality I just looked like shit and they just knew to keep a distance. But, that was what I wanted to say…)

I love it that these friends are so lovey. I just didn’t want to be the one to get them sick. And, they were grateful, for the most part. One friend, who we shall call Juan, for the sake of this post, is the biggest kisser of them all. He’s the type that, when you aim for his cheek, will dodge around back to your lips. You will not deny Juan the kiss…on the lips. He didn’t care that I was the dastardly and infirmed Pirate Lord Sir Tyler of the Castro. It was sweet. I hope he didn’t get sick.

But, more importantly, it got me thinking. In my past, I have always avoided physical contact. Back in the day, I used to even avoid giving “frontal hugs” (as I called them) to girls. I could only hug them from the side. It just kind of grossed me out. Sorry ladies. My dear friend Jaclyn endured 4 1/2 years of “high-fives” because I didn’t want to be to gushy. Don’t worry, I now give her a nice solid “frontal hug” when I say goodbye.

I have another friend from work that, despite all attempts to dodge her, always gives me a big ole kiss on the lips. I swear that she has tried to slip me the tongue. Some people are just kissers.

So. Let’s take a survey. Post a comment and let everyone know if you are a kisser or a hugger, or how do you greet your friends? Be brave. If you have any wierd greeting rituals, let’s hear about them!

1 Comment

Posted in Friends, Humor

vrrrrroooooooommmmm

Posted on May 25, 2007 | Leave a comment

I am a professional pedestrian. At least that’s how I like to think of myself. When I took the leap and moved into San Francisco from the warmer side of the bay, I also got rid of my car. And, it really was a dream come true. I had always had a car because I had always lived in places where it was a necessity.

It’s been almost two years and I still don’t really miss it…at all. I mean, why would I? I save hundreds of dollars a month by simply using my two feet. And, if we (Jeff and I) need to, we can take Jeff’s car–Gladys. Gladys is a fine specimen approaching 20 years old. Sure, she might be missing several pieces of trim, have a taped on headlight, and smell strangely similar to a 90 year old–which I am convinced is her age if she were human–but, the truth is, Gladys is lucky to be alive. She has been wrecked and stolen (and returned) several times. And most importantly, she runs.

I wish I could say that any of my past cars fared as well. My first car was a 1981 Chevy Citation. Just prior to its demise, the only way to shift gears was to turn the car off–shift–then, turn the car back on. All while going down the road. My next car was a 1988 Ford Tempo. When it died it still had the bailing twine and wire delicately woven throughout the engine to hold it together. After that there was the 1992 Mercury Topaz. It lived a nice long life. However, after a series of unfortunate events involving the radiator and 110 degree Phoenix heat, I left it abandoned at a strip mall never to be seen again.

So, needless to say, I love not having a car! And now that I don’t drive very often, I have had time to perfect my “back seat” driving skills; which, I know are greatly appreciated. I also have grown acutely aware of others’ road rage. In particular, my friend Jaclyn. Jaclyn is the most respectful and caring person I know…until she gets behind the wheel. Frankly, she scares me. Which is another thing, now that I don’t really drive; I get scared riding in the passenger seat. I don’t know what has made me so skiddish.

Maybe it has something to do with almost becoming roadkill, while the ones driving the cars are screaming and honking at each other.

All Plans are Subject to Change…

Posted on May 21, 2007 | Leave a comment

I’m fickle. This is really no surprise to anyone who knows me personally. I mean… I am really fickle. I am so fickle that even the most seemingly mundane decisions in life can present me with almost insurmountable choices.

Let’s just take this blog entry, for instance. What you wouldn’t know is that I went through about 5 different titles, 10 different moods, and who knows how many categories before deciding on what you are reading. The only thing certain was that I am listening to ABBA currently. But that was easy, I just had to check Itunes.

My friend Jaclyn has put up with years of hearing me say: “Sure, I’ll go to the store with you…but, remember, all plans are subject to change until further notice!” Now, I realize that she was just wanting me to come to the grocery store with her; but, you know, things can change. What if I decide that I don’t want to go to the store–halfway to the store? Then what? I should just let her know in advance that I might change my mind and she would have to bring me back home. I’m just trying to be polite.

And, I have always been this way. When I was in third grade, we were given the assignment of writing a letter to Santa Claus. I was still sitting at my desk when it was time for recess. All I had written was, “Dear Santa, I want…” What was I supposed to write next? This was a life-altering decision. Did I want that old desk or the blue typewriter?

(please refer to my previous blog entry, “I’m Special”, for an explanation of why a third grader would want either.)

I’m not sure why I am so tormented by making decisions. I am jealous of those people who can say that they know what they want and then they go for it. But, that is not the way I am wired. I will probably spend my whole life trying to decide if I want Italian food for dinner or possibly Japanese…you know, Thai kind of sounds good…

p.s. I got the old desk for Christmas. But, luckily, the blue typewriter arrived for my birthday two months later.