33

And just like that, I was another year older.

I mean, it shouldn't have been a shock to the system. But I kind of got used to being 32. I got used to telling people, "I'm 32." Someone comes up to me on the street and asks, "How old are you?" My immediate response for the last 12 months has been to say, "I'm 32."

But I can't say that anymore. As of 7:48 this morning, I've been 33 years old. I can see myself having difficulty with the transition. Not because I think that turning 33 is momentous and difficult to my aging psyche. I see the difficulty being akin to forgetting to write the correct year on your checks for the first couple weeks of the year.

Personally, I feel fine with being 33. Actually, I feel better right now than I did a year ago. I'm in better shape than I've been in for a long time, and continuing to work on that aspect of life. I'm in a comfortable place career-wise, with very clear goals for my own next steps where all that is concerned. And, honestly, I still think of myself as being in my 20s. I guess that's part of the whole "as young as you feel" thing.

Maybe I don't physically feel like I'm in my 20s. At least, not all the time. I'll be honest, there are days I roll out of bed and things just start popping and cracking like crazy. Mentally, though, I definitely feel like I'm younger than I really am. I'm sure people would point out that I could just look in the mirror to make myself feel my actual age. And if that's a crack about the gray hair, ha ha. But you've gotta come at me with something better than that. I've had gray hair since I was 17.

I can honestly say it's been a good anniversary of my birth. It snowed, so I got the day off work, which was nice. The Other Single Guy came into town to buy me dinner, which was also nice. And in a couple days, I'll be celebrating in style with a bunch of friends. What's the celebration? Dinner at one of my favorite restaurants followed by roller skating and laser tag. Yeah, laser tag. Take that, ageist stereotypers!

Legends of the Bank Teller: One By One

Via

It's been a very long time since I ran the drive-thru at that bank in Raleigh, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the Girl in the White SUV. I remember the Spider-Girl. I remember getting really irritated with stupid people who had no right using the drive-thru lane at the bank. I remember kicking my coin locker hard enough to break my toe on more than one occasion (if my bones weren't unbreakable).

I also remember my old co-workers, who seem to be slowly peeling away from the bank one by one since I left. First the manager left. Then Barney Stinson left. And now, one of my fellow tellers is leaving for greener pastures. Friday will be her last day.

I may have hated my job as a teller, but that doesn't mean I didn't have plenty of good times with these co-workers. With this teller, in particular, we spent a great deal of time laughing. Most of the time it didn't take much to get her started. I could quote a line from Steel Magnolias or bring up the fact that it was Cuss Tuesday.

Side bar: Cuss Tuesday was the one day of the week when we allowed ourselves to drop swear words freely as long as there were no customers around. It was a huge stress reliever. At least, that's what we told ourselves. Cuss Tuesday usually fell on Tuesdays, but sometimes necessity would dictate that it fell on a Thursday.

She shared in my excitement when the Girl in the White SUV came by. She mocked my extreme nervousness every time I tried to talk to the Girl in the White SUV. But that was okay because I mocked whenever creepy customers came by to hit on her.

So, to this teller, I wish the best of luck as she moves on to her next venture.

Question of the Week: 80

When you are 80 years old, what will matter to you the most?

I'm sure there will be a lot of things that could be considered important by the time I hit 80. There will be the ten or so bestselling novels I'll have had published. There's the Oscar I'll eventually win for screenwriting. Also, the Emmy I'll get for best comedy. But, you know, none of that will mean anything if the people I love aren't around to share it with. It would be nice to reach 80 while still surrounded by family and friends, a wife, some grown kids, maybe some grand kids. They're what will matter most.

Moment

Via

The world around him seemed to slow to a crawl as Parker Davis made his way through the crowd. This is my moment, he thought. He was there. She was there. Everything was falling into place. He knew it wouldn't take more than 30 seconds to cross the room. At that point, he would find himself in the presence of Mary Walsh, the girl he'd had a crush on since the first grade.

She knew. She had to know. How could she not know? he thought. His mind raced as he pushed through the other prom attenders. He thought back to that day about a month ago when he worked up the courage to ask Mary to the dance. "Oh, Parker, that's really sweet," she had said, and he knew there was a but coming, just from the tone of her voice, "but I'm already going with Wyatt." The disappointment must have really shown on his face. It would make sense. He was extremely disappointed. "I'm sorry. He asked me last week, so I said yes."

Of course she was going with Wyatt. He was a star athlete. He lettered in just about every sport the school offered. He was only the most popular guy at RFK High School. It made sense for them to go together. What with her being student body president. And smart. And kind. And drop dead gorgeous. If I'd only asked a week sooner, he thought. Maybe she'd have said yes. Or maybe she'd have just come up with a different excuse for why should couldn't go with me. He hated when his mind went to places like that. He wasn't the most confident kid in the world. I'm not a bad guy, Parker thought, Maybe she'd have said yes.

He continued his slow motion movement toward the girl of his dreams. He wasn't even halfway there yet. Parker's mind went back to the first time he met Mary. It was the first day in Mrs. Keller's first grade class. Parker was the new kid in school. He remembered feeling very awkward. Everyone in the classroom apparently knew each other from having spent the previous year together in kindergarten. Thanks to seemingly random chance, Parker's assigned seat was right next to Mary's.

From the start, Mary was very nice to Parker. Being new, he didn't have the same list of supplies that the others had received in the mail over the summer. So he didn't have anything yet, and wouldn't until he gave the supply list to his mom when he got home from that first day of school. Mary let Parker borrow anything he needed to use that day. After that, they became friends in the same way a lot of little kids become friends. These just happen to be the people you see every day of the week, so it's best to get along with them.

Over the years, Mary and Parker drifted in and out of each others lives. Mostly, this was determined by class scheduling throughout middle and high school. In all that time, Parker never had the guts to let Mary know he liked her. He never really considered asking her out until he decided to ask her to the prom. He always told himself that the timing was never right. She was dating this guy or that guy. She was too good for him. All these doubts were constantly creeping into his head. But tonight, he would doubt no more.

The crowd continued to part, making way for Parker as he grew closer to Mary. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wyatt standing near her. Parker really hated that guy. Sure, he was popular. Sure, he had a knack for scoring touchdowns and sinking 3-point shots. But Parker knew him a little better than the folks in the community. He knew Wyatt better than most of the other kids at school. Wyatt was a bully. And he was the kind of bully that wasn't stupid. Wyatt picked on kids because it helped to make himself feel better, pretty typical for a bully. But he did it in a such a way that he could never get caught. He was methodical and very careful about the times and places he chose to attack. Parker was the object of Wyatt's bullying on more than a few occasions throughout their high school years.

Parker didn't care that Wyatt was only a few feet away from Mary. It's not like they were seriously dating. This was just a prom. And if Parker didn't act now, he would spend the rest of his life wondering what might have happened if he'd just taken a chance during that one moment at the prom.

His heart was pounding. Here he was, directly behind the object of his affections. Parker reached out and tapped Mary on the shoulder. Suddenly, the music was deafening. He couldn't hear Mary's voice, but he could read her lips as she said, "Hey Parker!" Her face broke into a smile as she said hello to him. He said nothing in return. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her full on the lips.

Parker had never kissed a girl before that moment. He was pretty sure he was bad at it. He didn't care. He was kissing Mary Walsh. He could die now and be content.

He pulled away and looked at her. Her eyes were closed and he was able to register the look of shock on her face, along with the hint of a smile. Parker was able to see that look on her face for a split second before being violently shoved to the floor.

"The hell do you think you're doing, Davis?!" Wyatt yelled as he stood above Parker.

Totally worth it, Parker thought.

Wyatt reached down, grabbed two handfuls of Parker's tuxedo, and pulled him back to his feet. Parker could see the rage in Wyatt's eyes. All he could do was smirk at this popular jerk who had made his life miserable for so many years. "Wyatt!" chimed the sweetest voice in the room, "Put him down!"

Wyatt held on tight. "I'm not about to let this little douchebag kiss my girlf--"

"Whoa!" Mary cut Wyatt off, "I am not your girlfriend!" She pushed Wyatt and separated him from Parker. "Just because I agreed to come with you to the prom does not make us a couple! And that's certainly not gonna happen with the way you're acting now!"

"But he just--" Wyatt began.

"Yeah, I know. And I'll deal with him when I'm done with you," Mary said, crossing her arms. Parker could see that she was furious. Probably with both of them. "Actually, I am done with you. You can find your own ride home."

Parker laughed. "You made Mary drive you to the prom?" he asked, looking right at Wyatt. Later, when Parker looked back on prom night, he would have to admit that his comment was a mistake. Mostly because, in a flash, Wyatt took a step toward him and delivered a well placed right hook. Parker found himself back on the floor.

The next few minutes were a blur. He remembered the principal, Mr. Zimmerman, escorting Wyatt away and, most likely, out of the gym. He didn't remember getting up and walking out of the gym himself, but somehow he got to the cafeteria, where he and Mary sat alone while she applied an ice pack to his quickly swelling left eye.

"That was really stupid," she said softly to him.

"I know. I'm sorry," Parker said, "I know I shouldn't have kissed you, but, I mean, it's been building up for 12 years."

Mary laughed a little, "I wasn't talking about the kiss."

"Oh, well, yeah. I guess I could have held back what I said to Wyatt. But I was nervous. I lose my filter when I get nervous."

"I've noticed," Mary laughed again. She turned his face so that she could look directly into his good eye. "Did you really think I hadn't noticed you over the years?"

"A little," Parker began, "maybe, I don't know."

Mary moved the ice pack away from Parker's face. She leaned closer to him and kissed him softly. "You've really gotta get better about picking your moments, that's all."

The Harlem Shake Bandwagon

I'm late. It's after midnight. So that means I failed to put something on the blog on March 2, 2013. There goes my New Year's resolution of posting something every day. But I was out of town all day and just got back home. You know, I think I'll just claim that I'm on central time for no apparent reason, which means it's still 3/2 somewhere. Also, because it's wicked late and I'm wicked tired, you're just getting a video. But I have a sort of personal connection to this video. It's another Harlem Shake YouTube video, but it's a Harlem Shake video which features the 7th graders of the school where I work every day. Enjoy.

Remembering Bluefield

There are a lot of days that come and go where I have a little trouble coming up with something to write about. When I have those creatively difficult days, I generally take to the Facebook to ask for some ideas. Today, I did that very thing. One of my great Bluefield College friends, Dave Lowe, came up with a weekly "Where Are They Now?" kind of segment. The idea is to spotlight someone who was at Bluefield College at some point during those few years that I was a student and play catch up with them.

As of this spring, it will have officially been 10 years since I graduated from Bluefield College. So that means that plenty of time has passed since those fondly remembered days, giving people plenty of time to make new memories away from the old alma mater. This segment will be a chance for folks to remember some of the good ol' days, as well as catch people up on the good new days.

Now, I've never thought of myself as a reporter and I've certainly never interviewed anyone. But this could be an interesting adventure. It sounds like an intriguing idea, anyway. So next Friday, be sure to come back for Carp Dime's first official interview as part of the Remembering Bluefield tag. And, since it was his idea, I think it fitting that the first guinea pig guest be David Lowe himself.

If you're thinking that, from now on, Fridays on Carp Dime will only be relevant to Bluefield College grads, I hope you'll reconsider. After all, there are plenty of people out there who only know me through reading this blog. Some of you are willing to come back day after day to read the random thoughts of a complete stranger. My hope is that you'll keep coming back on Fridays to dive into the lives of a few more complete strangers. Stay tuned. I have a feeling this could be fun.

Well, There Goes Another One

Earlier this week, the New York Post published an article that kind of spoiled a long running story in the DC Comics universe. Yeah, I'm going there. Putting on my geek hat. The spoiler that the Post spoiled? The latest character to serve as Batman's protege, Robin, would die in this week's issue of Batman, Incorporated.

I haven't read the issue yet, so I don't know the extreme details of the current Robin's demise. I know it has something to do with him dying a heroic death, which is a long way from where the character began when he was introduced to the world several years ago.

Via

Writer Grant Morrison brought Damian Wayne into the Batman family when he first started writing the Batman title in 2006. Damian, as it turns out, is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Talia, you may know from being recently portrayed by Marion Cotillard in Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises. Since he was raised in secret, far away from his heroic father, he grew up in the care of the League of Assassins. He spent his formidable years learning how to kill without remorse. Thus, he had a lot to atone for once he decided to be a part of Batman's life.

Damian didn't don Robin's tights right away. He needed to prove himself. And over the years, he's done that. Comic book fans have come to (mostly) enjoy reading Damian's story as he's learned to follow his father's rules. He's had some trouble with the "no killing" policy that's posted on the wall of the Batcave. But, overall, he's grown a lot and has found a great deal of redemption.

Via

This isn't the first time DC Comics has killed off Batman's sidekick. In 1989, at the conclusion of a Batman storyline "A Death in the Family," the Joker beat Robin to death with a crowbar. At the time, Robin was a street kid named Jason Todd. Fans didn't like Jason so much. In fact, DC decided to let the fans decide whether or not Robin would survive the beating. Fans were willing to dial into a 900-number. In the end, the votes were tallied and the populous gave the thumbs down. Robin would die, all because the majority didn't like him.

Jason Todd, as it turns out, got better. Due to some somewhat creative storytelling, he came back to life and now runs around as a vigilante calling himself the Red Hood. Could the same thing happen with Damian? From what I understand, he was killed by a clone of himself. If there's one clone, there could be others, right? Then there are the mythical Lazarus Pits, which are under the control of Damian's mother, Talia. What's a Lazarus Pit? It's this thing that has regenerative powers that can bring the dead to life. Pretty convenient plot twist in a comic book world.

So we have another Robin dead. Rumor has it, this death is gonna stick. For a long time, Jason Todd's "death" took a huge toll on Batman. For a while, he vowed not to take on another Robin. That was until a kid named Timothy Drake deduced Batman's secret identity and took it upon himself to convince the Dark Knight that he was better off with a Robin by his side. Drake could see that Batman was darker and less in control of himself without his sidekick around. It took a while for Bruce to warm up to the kid, but eventually, Tim made for a brilliant Robin.

How much harder will the Batman take Robin's death now that the kid behind the mask is his own flesh and blood? Will he decide to take another Robin under his wing? It seems like a pretty dangerous job to apply for. I mean, sure, you get to hang out with Batman every day. But, you have to wear a bright red and yellow costume. Batman can hide in the shadows wearing all black. Meanwhile, you're like a bright neon sign that screams SHOOT AT ME! I'M AN EASY TARGET! Any kids out there really want to volunteer?

Via

For the record, the job has been an equal opportunity position in the past. In 2011, DC rebooted its universe, so some of the previous continuity has been wiped out. But it should be noted that there have been two female Robins. One, Carrie Kelly, is a Robin that never really existed in the regular continuity. She's a character that showed up in Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns. The second girl to be called Robin was Stephanie Brown. She actually existed in the DC universe, that is until she was erased from existence by the ginormous reboot. She also served as Batgirl for an all too short period of time.

So Batman has a job opening. The question is, how quickly will he want to fill it? I can't imagine there will be a vacancy for very long. After all, one of the popular Batman series' just happens to be titled Batman and Robin. Not much of a title without the Robin. So, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last kid wearing an R over his (or her) heart.

Better Living Through Science

Via

Last week I was going to post this, but I got interrupted by a bunch of rude kids who made me get mean one day. Things are a bit calmer this week. 

I'm pretty sure I enjoyed 1st grade when I was going through it as a child. But I certainly don't remember participating in some of the activities that the kids I now work with get to do.

A few weeks back, the teacher was instructing her students on an area of math that tends to give children a difficult time: fractions. Let's be honest, it gives a lot of adults a difficult time, too. As a part of that, she let the class make pizzas. Once the pizzas were finished and cooked, they were cut into four equal slices. They then answered questions about fourths and halves. Most importantly, they got to eat pizza.

Then, just last week, the children got to make ice cream. You may be asking, how is that educational? The kids had been studying matter and mixtures and causing physical changes. So the kids had to mix their ingredients and turn the mixture from a liquid into a solid.

So they each got sandwich bags. Then they got half & half, sugar and vanilla extract. They sealed the bags and shook like crazy. Then they got gallon Ziploc bags filled with ice and some salt. They sealed the smaller bag inside the large and, again, shook like crazy. This caused the liquid mixture to solidify to become ice cream.

One kid decided he didn't want his. So I got to eat it. Science never tasted so good.

How to Make Bronchitis Fun

So your general practitioner has diagnosed you with bronchitis. And now you're sitting at home thinking, "This is just no fun!" as you hack into your sleeve or a handkerchief. But why look at this temporary disease as no fun? Instead of engaging in a pessimistic attitude about your bronchitis, find ways of making it fun.

How does one make a respiratory illness fun? Well, it's tricky, but I believe it can be done. The first thing you need to determine is what kind of bronchitis you're afflicted with. If it's acute bronchitis, it can be pretty contagious. Depending on your moral compass, you may decide you don't want to be around people, thereby avoiding a situation in which you spread your version of the virus. If you have no moral compass, by all means, take a trip out in public. On the other hand, if it's adorable bronchitis, you have nothing to worry about when it comes to passing on your germs. Chances are, someone will start coughing, but it won't be because of you!

Now that you've figured out the nature of your disease, it's time to decide what you can do with all your free time. Are you the type who worries about what strangers may think of you? Do you worry that you may cause someone to become ill? Then this blog post may not be for you. You may find yourself in a joyless existence for the next 2 to 4 weeks while your bronchitis runs its course or your antibiotics fight the infections. For you, I would suggest hitting up the Redbox on the way home from the pharmacy and settle in for a chick flick marathon.

Everyone else, I invite you to get creative and, more importantly, adventurous! My first suggestion really depends on your proximity to a city. In my experience, most small towns don't normally come with buildings equipped with elevators. Do you see where I'm going with this? That's right, find an elevator. The first thing you want to do is find a popular building that has an elevator. You definitely want an elevator that's going to have a lot of people in the car with you at one time. It's probably best to go with this activity in the morning, as people are arriving for work, or in the late afternoon, as the ants go marching back home. Have you chosen your elevator? Good. Make your way to the back of the car and just wait. Once the elevator is full, just start letting your coughs go. Please, be sure to cough into your sleeve or a tissue. To not cover your mouth would just be rude. At the same time, people will still react to your coughs, and their reactions will often be humorous. Every now and then, you'll come across that one in a million person who will see if you're okay and offer you a lozenge of some kind. This will probably restore your fragile faith in humanity for one more day. Mostly, the people on the elevator will panic and try to claw their way out like rats trapped in a maze. Just think about that for the rest of the day and you have a ready made laugh.

The next activity involves a kitchen, a hot stove, a tea kettle and, you guessed it, tea. Chances are, with the bronchitis, you've been coughing quite a bit. This can cause a great deal of irritation to your throat. A warm beverage, like tea, can be very soothing to a sore throat, and may even help to relieve some of the coughing you've been doing. First, do you have a tea kettle ready to go? Good. Next, fill the kettle with water. Put it on the stove to boil. You'll want to be sure to place the kettle on the correct eye. It's got to be the one that's turned on and is heating up. Next, turn away from the kettle. Whatever you do, don't look at it and certainly don't watch it. It will never boil that way. If possible, leave the room. The kettle will scream at you when the water has come to a boil. It's amazing what technology can do these days. It may seem like forever, but as long as you're not looking, the water will come to a boil. Get your favorite mug out of the cabinet and place a tea bag inside the mug. Next, pour the boiling water into the cup and allow the tea to steep. Depending on your personal preferences, you may want to add lemon or honey or milk or sugar. I've heard some people do these things. I don't know, I really don't like hot tea.

Might I also suggest watching this helpful YouTube video. I caution you, however, not to watch too often. When you have bronchitis, laughter can only serve to worsen your cough more often than not. In which case, you may need to make more tea.

I didn't even know Jesus was a reporter. Awesome.

Ladies and gentlemen, those are only a few very fun suggestions that should give you something to do when you're suffering from bronchitis. If you have other suggestions, please share them in the comments below. I'm sure all the sick people of the world will appreciate your helpful ideas and hints.

Question of the Week: Holding On

Via

Are you holding on to something that you need to let go of?

I don't think so. I have a tendency to look at holding on to things the same way I look at worrying. There's really no point. Life is too short to dwell on things that happened in the past. The most evident thing that I think most people would admit to holding on to would be a grudge. That's the most pointless waste of energy there is. I'm not saying we should forget what someone may have done to wrong us in the past, but if you dwell on it you're only hurting yourself. Chances are, that person that you've decided to begrudge has moved on and probably won't even remember what they did. So all we do by holding grudges is let hate and mistrust fester in our own hearts. Pointless. I'm sure there are lots of other negative things that people hold on to as the years pass by. I won't say that I don't over-think or even obsess over things in the moment, but once the moment is gone, I'm ready to let it go.