Lady GaGa: Pro-Zombie!!!

Note:  I started writing this shortly before Shelby’s rapid decline in health that led to his passing 1 year ago today.
I finish and post it today to honour his memory.   I know its lacking, but that empty indelible space his passing left in my heart is especially noticeable today.


I know…its pretty shocking…but I’m afraid that the evidence is overwhelming.

Yesterday morning my iPhone alarm thingie came on.  My “Divas” playlist was on and Lady GaGa’s “Monster” was playing.

Then it hit me…

“That boy is a monster…”,  “then he ate my heart and he ate my brain“!!!!

Zombies would be considered by some to be monsters, and its a widely accepted fact that zombies prefer brains over anything else!!

OMG…I had always thought that this song was about an encounter with..ummm…hmmm…okay, let me tell it this way…

One day in the boardroom where the IT department gathers for lunch I was telling my co-workers of an incident where I was banging along with Rage Against the Machine’s “Know your Enemy” when I glanced up to see a guy from Finance staring at me in horror.

I don’t particularly give a rat fu….fornicate what anyone thinks of me with very few exceptions, so I wasn’t particularly bothered by his look of horror, I waved and went back to programming.

So sitting down I mentioned this, and the finance guy’s reaction.  I mused that perhaps it wasn’t a big, burly middle aged guy singing along with his iPhone, but maybe he wasn’t a Rage fan (because, well….they are a protest band).    I put forward the idea that perhaps I should try someone else, like Lady Gaga.  My co-worker looked and asked, “Bad Romance?”,   I thought for a moment and said, “Naaa…Monster.”    She did this humorous sort of combination spit take, choke on her food thing that would’ve been great for YouTube.

When she recovered she said, “People will think you’re gay.”

I pointed out that I have  a collection of fairies in my office, and a pink lunch bag, so people probably already suspected that.

“Good point”, was the response.

Umm…what was I talking about?

Oh yeah,  Lady GaGa….”Queen of the Zombies” maybe?

As I lie in bed pondering this realization, Shelby the Pro-Zombie Cocker Spaniel realizes that I’m onto his compatriot and tries to distract me by telling me he needs out…like RIGHT NOW!!!

Too late little buddy…the jig is up.

One Year….

They say time heals all wounds,  but today I’m calling bullshit on that.

One year ago my friend,  my little buddy,  Shelby the Pro-Zombie Cocker Spaniel passed from this mortal coil to the next.   Right now, as I type this the pain in my heart is as fresh as the day it happened.    It makes no sense I know for my brain to be wailing, “I MISS MY DOG!” with my sweet princess, Colorado,  Queen of Spazmania sitting not 4 feet away looking at me as if I’ve lost my mind (oh how diametrically opposed that happy crappy is right now).

But I do,  I miss him.  Shelby’s quiet, stoic companionship filled a void in my life.   I can’t describe it…but as I explained to my shrink one session not very long ago…its like with any good friend.   They can be in the room with you,  not saying a word,   not even in sight,  yet you know they are there…..and you know when they are not.   The realization that presence will never come clattering in, announced by claws on hardwood again is painful.

But life goes on.  It has to,  I have to.   Tomorrow the pain won’t be so bad.  I’m dedicating this to my little buddy, Shelby.   I miss you old friend.


Shelby: Pro Zombie Cocker Spaniel
Shelby: Pro Zombie Cocker Spaniel



Civilian vs Military Life

I saw on Facebook that an old friend is retiring from the military in around 100 days.  That got me to thinking about the time I left the military in 2000.   I sent around a list of things I noticed were different in civilian life at the time.  It was well received but is long forgotten.

But, in honour of my friend Steve I thought I’d list off the differences in order to help prepare him…

In the military they’re called parade squares…if you’re on one you’d better be marching.
In the civilian world they are called parking lots,  you park your cars on them…and no one cares how you walk across them.

In the military pockets are mostly just for show.
In the civilian world,  you can put your hands in your pockets…even if they aren’t cold.

In the civilian world a shirt collar is not a measuring device to see if your hair is too long.

In the civvie world if your boss tells you to do something inherently dangerous,  you can say no.
In the military doing things that would make people shoot at you is in your job description.

In the military there is a dress manual that tells you exactly what to wear and how to wear it.
In the civilian world there is sometimes things called a “dress code” that gives you a general idea of what to wear to work.

In the military you get paid what some bureaucrat thinks you should get paid.   The bureaucrat’s decision is weighed heavily on the fact that in many cases your skillset is not transferrable and its not like you can quit and go join some other military.   This generally means that you are underpaid in comparison to your skillset and willingness to sacrifice and serve.
In the civilian world your pay is based on how much the competition would pay you,   factored in with how much your employer wants to keep you.

In the military you have a fair amount of job security.
In the civilian world you could wake up employed and feeling secure in your job,   and go to bed that same night unemployed.

In the civilian world if the tailor or dry cleaner messes up your work clothes its their fault
In the military,  its yours.

In the civilian world you can tell your boss to f*** off and you’ll only get fired.
In the military,  you’ll end up wishing they’d just fired you.

In the civilian world,  when the feces hits the fan,  you pick up the phone and call for help
When you’re in the military, you answer the call.

Thanks for your service Steve,  and everyone else who continues to wear the uniform.