What is it about a simple little tattoo that can create so much controversy? Whether you love them or hate them, it’s pretty much guaranteed that everyone has an opinion about them. And a rather strong one at that.

Does it really classify a woman as a Tramp, a Slut, a Sure Thing? I certainly don’t think so, not in the least. I would have to think that there are many other qualifications that need to be met before one can be placed into that elite category.

I don’t mind saying that I myself am a huge fan of the lower back tattoo. I don’t feel comfortable referring to them as Tramp Stamps, let alone all of the other terrible names that have been associated with them. No need to go into those here, I’m sure we’ve all heard them and most are extremely degrading. In my opinion anyway.

Exactly why I love these tattoos, I’m not too sure. I haven’t quite pinned it down as of yet. One thing’s for sure though, when applied with taste and creativity, they can be sexy as hell.

Yikes, did I just say that? I guess I did. Maybe it IS the fact that I think they can be super sexy, especially on an already attractive woman. But the tattoo alone isn’t the ONLY thing a woman can do to look sexy. A nice pair of low rise jeans with a bit of thong sticking up above the belt line, the proverbial “Whale Tail” as it were can also be a wonderful addition to a womans wardrobe. Again, my opinion only.

Not to say that this combo can’t be worn by women of all shapes and sizes but if they are being displayed as a means of getting attention to a certain area that normally wouldn’t, let alone shouldn’t be displayed publicly, then that could be an issue.

But when a woman leans over and you happen to catch a sneak peek at her lower back, discovering that it holds an unforseen treasure of sorts, it just doesn’t get much better than that. At least not in my book.

As they say, “some things are better left unseen” and in the case of alot of these tattoos, I’d have to agree that out of sight, out of mind might have been a better way to go. Perhaps it’s because the owners can’t actually see what’s going on behind them that allows them to display these disasters, seemingly without a care.

As with anything else, tattoos can be taken to the extreme and beyond, with the limits of bad taste being exceeded in no time. However, the decision is entirely up to the owner and you’d have to think that quite a bit of forethought and consideration was taken before they ever let someone apply something to their body that no doubt would, for better or worse, last a lifetime.

Although I must admit I do have my doubts as to the talent posessed by some of these so called artists that actually perform the tattooing. While some are exquisite works of art, others look as if they were scratched in by some poorly trained meth addict in the back of an old Ford van haulin’ ass down the freeway on the way to a Marilyn Manson concert. I really do feel sorry for some of these women as I would have to think that what they ended up with is nowhere near how their dream tattoo started out in their mind. Truly a shame as there is no eraser that will make it go away.

Which also brings to mind all of the criticisms concerning how the tattooees will look once they get old and wrinkled. What will happen to their butterfly at that point? Will it just look like a wrinkled old vulture, hovering over it’s prey?

C’mon now, at that point, even if they do have somebody back there checkin’ it out I’d find it hard to believe that the person is going to make a comment about it. I could be wrong but I just don’t believe that’s enough of a reason not to get a tattoo in the first place.

Is this the same ol’ thing, where the people that don’t have the guts to get a tattoo choose to talk down the ones that can put up with the pain for a whole bunch of individuality? I’d hate to think they are that shallow but you just never know.

In fact, who came up with the name Tramp Stamp in the first place? Wouldn’t “Buttper Sticker” have been a bit more neutral, somewhat less degrading? I’d assume it had to be a hater of Tattoos of all kinds. More than likely they also hate that other wonderfully exquisite invention, the Belly Button Ring. But that’s an entirely different post altogether, one that I’ll more than likely get into later.

Could it be that most of the women that posess the lower back tattoos choose to display them for all to see that causes some women to be so against them? Could they be jealous? Perhaps these women don’t feel comfortable enough with their own bodies to let it all hang out, let alone put a flashing sign on it sayin’ look at me.

I’ve never been a big fan of women that wear next to nothing in public. I’ve always preferred to leave something to the imagination, a little somethin’ for later. Especially when it comes to women I’m dating. Call me old fashioned but I’d like to think that there is something that is somewhat special, off limits and reserved only for me to see. Like I said, I’m old fashioned when it comes to love.

Just like the whole fake boobs thing. And yes, you guessed it, I’m not a huge fan of the quadruple triple double D’s. I’m all about the real deal, gimme real A’s as opposed to fake triple G’s anyday. Not only do they tend to look disproportionate to the rest of their bodies, they tend to feel all wrong and again, it’s just not for me. For medical as well as health issues, I’m all for it but when they’re media or ego driven, just not a huge fan.

Sometimes I wonder what the actual stats are on fake boobs. Do guys really like them as much as women think they do or is it more of a thing where women do it to impress other women? I think the media has a bunch to do with it and while I agree that a bit of enhancement is ok, some of these women take it too far. OK, WAY TOO FAR!

Which could also be said for some of the women and their tattoos. I’ve heard that it can become addicting and since I don’t currently have any tattoos of my own, I’m only guessing but I wouldn’t be surprised at all to hear that it is indeed true. No doubt some have taken it way beyond the mainstream to a point that’s it’s just about bordering on insanity.

Almost every square inch of their body being covered in tattoos is way beyond attractive. At that point it’s just seems a bit obsessive and then it gets kinda freaky. By no means am I saying it’s wrong but again, just not for me.

Which brings us back to my original point. While tattoos aren’t for everyone, each individual should be able to decide for themselves what is right and wrong for them. It has nothing to do with what anyone else thinks and they surely shouldn’t be labeled in any way for choosing to freely fly their freedom flag.

So, to all the women out there that have been branded as Tramps, I want to commend you for living life on your own terms and not givin’ a damn what others think. Because without you doin’ your thing, we’d never know who the good girls are.

If you’re a fan of Tramp Stamps, I’d love to hear about it. If not, I’d enjoy hearing about that as well and perhaps all the reasons why you don’t like them. And if you enjoyed this Post, I’d appreciate it if you’d share this with your friends. Thank you.

Nearly impossible to explain. It’s like some kind of an invisible forcefield, kinda Star Trekish, drawing us in. Go to the light, Go to the light! “Go to the light? What light?” Ohhh, THAT light! That giant laser beam that’s pretty much blinding me. OK, OK, I’ll go!

Seemingly mesmerized, under the spell of some hidden Sorcerer (who goes by the name of Sam), like helpless lemings being pulled by an inexplicable force to a land of endless treasures and bountiful beauty. Somewhere under the rainbow of dreams.

A place where you can have anything your heart desires. For the ladies it could be a marvelous Louis Vuitton purse or a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes, perhaps a new Armani Suit or a Rolex Submariner for the guys. Heck, there’s even tons of goodies for the kids. From 9 months to 90 years old, there’s a guaranteed treasure for everyone. Well, at least according to the commercials anyway.

And to make this relentless abundance of goodies even more enticing is the fact that each and every one of them is guaranteed to have the lowest prices in the universe. The deals here just can’t be beat. By anyone, anywhere. Again, that’s what I’ve been lead to believe and since I saw it on TV, it’s gotta be the truth. Right?

As I struggle to get my head to turn a bit left and right (I’m being pulled towards the light so forcefully that it’s difficult to turn my head) I begin to notice all the excitement and anticipation on the faces of all the anxious shoppers. I thought I was the only one dying to get inside. Apparently they feel the same way, each of them looking for that one of a kind find, that special something that will make the trip oh so worth it.

Good thing this parking lot is so huge, what with all the treasure seekers scrambling for a spot. That’s when I notice a giant section off to the east side that seems to be filled with lifers, those that choose to bring their campers and motorhomes. Jeez, they must REALLY love a bargain if they have to live here. Perhaps they need a 12 Step Program?

Alright, almost inside. I’m shaking so badly at this point, I just can’t wait to get in there. What’s with these people, why would they grab a shopping cart BEFORE they even get inside? Seems stupid to try and get that thing through the door when everybody is gonna be squeezin’ through as it is.

That’s when it dawns on me. What if they’re out of carts on the inside? I did see a guy way off in the distance with a giant train of carts and he was heading towards the entrance. All I can do is hope he gets there in time or there’s bound to be a riot of some kind.

Alright, made it through the first set of doors. First set? Huh? Why do they have two sets of doors? Maybe it’s to catch the bad guys that try to steal all the expensive trinkets waiting inside. Keep moving, mussst…. get…. in… side… ahhhhhhh, made it through door number two and I still have my shoes on. Life is good.

Mmmmm, now WHO is THIS? “Hello and welcome to WalMart.” Oh, she must be the friendly WalMart Greeter that I’ve heard so much about. Sure, I’ll take a hug (and a kiss and oh yeah, your phone number as well!). “Would you like a cart?” Uh, huh, yeah sure, a cart ….. oh yeah, I need a cart. Sorry, I kinda lost my train of thought for a second.

I’d heard about the WalMart greeter before but I gotta be honest, this is not at all what I had pictured in my mind. I figured it would be some elderly retired guy, sitting on a stool and doing all he could to say Hi. Guess I was wrong. VERY WRONG!

As my eyes begin to adjust to the new indoor lighting, refocusing on all the treasures that lay before me, one thing that does seem a bit odd is the rather large ‘M’ on the wall to my right.

Now, I could be mistaken here but isn’t that the calling card of the Golden Arches? Yep, sure enough. In fact I’d know that smell anywhere. It’s friggin’ McDonalds! What the heck is a fast food joint doin’ in a place like THIS? Even though it seems a bit strange, maybe Ronald is part owner of WalMart?

OK then, I’m off to find all those deals I’ve heard so much about. Matter of fact, with all these price cuts or as Sam puts it, Rollbacks, I’ll bet he’s got a separate Team to handle that department.

After all, this is the home of the Rollback. I’ll bet Sam came up with the price drop idea originally, sometime back in the 50′s or so. Wow, there are signs everywhere, announcing Rollbacks on pretty much everything in the store. I’m not exactly sure what Era these prices were rolled back to but who am I to argue. Everybody loves a bargain.

No need to be a math wiz. All the math is done for you, right there in plain sight. Which really is a good thing since I didn’t bring my calculator.

I must admit though that some of the signs appear to have been altered and in not such an attractive way. Maybe these were installed by the night crew, when the lighting wasn’t all it could be. One thing’s for sure. I know Sam is gonna get Team Rollback on it right away and remedy the situation.

But it does kinda make you wonder why on earth they didn’t just start out with the lower prices in the first place. Wouldn’t that have saved a ton on expenses? That way, they wouldn’t need a seperate Team to handle all the price changes which would have cut down on employee wages. That in turn could have helped to save the customers some money overall.

Heck, I don’t claim to know anything about corporate strategy so who am I to say. I’ll leave all that money stuff up to Sam and Ronnie. I’m sure they know what they’re doing. No doubt they know way more than I do.

As I continue to stroll around, I’m utterly amazed by all I see. They seemingly have anything and everything you could ever want except perhaps for a new Porsche GT3RS, maybe a Riva Yacht and say a $2mil Marathon Coach. It’s kinda too bad because if they did have the Marathon, that would allow you to live in the parking lot very comfortably. After that there wouldn’t be any reason to leave. EVER!

I’ve heard that they have all these things and more across the street at a very exclusive place called Sams Club. That’s a Members Only type of place and I’m pretty sure only Big Wigs can get in. I’ll have to save that adventure for another day. I have way to much stuff to absorb right in front of me, no way can I handle any more in one day.

As I resume my browsing, I continue to be absolutely awestruck by the vast array of items displayed on the endless rows of shelving. Row after row, shelf after shelf, my head is literally spinning trying to take it all in. Some of the items I know I need. Others I certainly wouldn’t mind having but I don’t have to have them just yet and strangely enough there are some things in here I have no idea what the hell they even are, let alone whether or not I need them.

Yet even though I have no clue what they are or why I might need them, one thing’s for sure. I know they must be a super deal because I just know that Sam had the Team rollback the prices on everything in here, probably back to about 1950′s prices.

Keep in mind that most of these things weren’t even invented until the 1980′s or ’90′s but these must be the prices that they would have been charging back in the 50′s IF they had been invented at that point.

I know, sounds a bit confusing but I also know that Sam and Ronnie would NEVER try and screw us. Would they? I mean c’mon, who’s more trust worthy than Ronald McDonald? And he’d never team up with Sam if he wasn’t a totally legit guy as well, right? Ok then, case closed.

Continuing my adventure through the maze of seemingly endless aisles, I begin to get the feeling that something just isn’t right. Yes, the variety IS incredible. No doubt about that. From TV’s to toilet paper, brooms to bicycles, anything you could ever want is at your fingertips.

OK, ALMOST anything. I have yet to find the Single Women section, where all of the available single women in town are displayed. Probably just as well anyway because judging by the crowd in the store, I’m most likely not dressed appropriately for the occasion. I’ll have to save that section for next time.

Scowering the shelves, I continue to check off all of the items on my list. Couldn’t come to a store of this size without having a list. No way I’d ever be able to remember everything I’m supposed to get. Not with all these choices, endless varieties and knowing darn well that each and every one of them is a screamin’ deal. That’s just too much to ask, of anyone.

In fact, I think I’m getting a headache from all this heavy duty decision making. Who would have ever guessed that all this fun could be so much like work? It never dawned on me that so much thinking would be required of me. Better head on over to the aspirin section, no doubt they just rolled back all the prices on that as well.

On my way over I spot something out of the corner of my eye. All glittery and gleaming, like a diamond strobe light, it’s the Watch roundup. No doubt I’m a dreamer so I might as well head on over and check out the Rolex selection. Not that I have an extra $30K or $40K to spend on a watch but it couldn’t hurt to look, could it?

As I get closer to Bling Central, it takes all I have to remain focused. Everything is so bright and sparkly, like some kinda funky Vegas Hypnotist waving a silver chain in front of my eyes, chanting relentlessly “Keep your eyes on the bling, keep your eyes on the bling!”

OUCH! Dammit, I just ran into the counter. I guess I shouldn’t have kept my eyes on that silver chain for so long. There they are! All the bitchin’ watches you could ever hope for. Just too many to choose from. So many Rolex’s, so little time.

Wait a minute! Hang on, I’m no expert but something doesn’t look right. As I begin to look closer, that’s when it hit me. In big letters on the front of the glass enclosure, like a giant flashing neon sign, “FAUX~LEX”. What the hell? I should have known, fake Rolex’s. Oh well, I guess that is kind of alot to ask. That a regular store would carry the real deal, that’s just too much to hope for. Time to move on.

Looks like my list is completely checked off so I might as well make my way up to the checkout counters at the front of the store. Along the way I happen to notice the ladies shoe dept. OK, so I MIGHT have been checking out the women and not the shoes. So sue me.

Anyway, that’s when I noticed the “Jimmy Fu” shoe display. For some crazy reason I thought his name was Jimmy Choo but I guess I was wrong. I also thought his shoes sold for right around $900. As it turns out, they’re only about $40. Another Rollback? Perhaps.

Then, just as I begin to turn the corner, checkout in sight, I happen to smell all the leather Louis Vuitton goodies! Luggage, Purses, manbags (not any man that I know would carry one), all that kinda stuff. I gotta admit I’m a sucker for good leather and with a smorgasbord like this, it was hard not to notice. And not that I’m a pro at this stuff, it’s just that I did happen to notice the print on everything.

Jeez, not again! As I get closer I realize that the sign says “Chuey Vuitton” but the way they made the CL logo look just like the real VL logo was definitely slick. Not exactly false advertising but pretty damn close if you ask me. I guess I gotta give them some kinda credit for that at least.

But the more I smell it, something seems a bit off with the smell of this leather. Perhaps a bit of Mad Cow Disease got mixed in, I’m not sure but it no way smells as good as it did at first. Time to go!

This must be it, the back of the line. Kinda hard to tell from this far back but I highly doubt all these people would be standing here otherwise. Wow, they have tons of registers up here. 1, 2, 3, …….. 48! Dang, that IS alot of registers. Then it dawns on me that only three of the numbers up top are lit up.

No wonder these lines are so long, there aren’t any cashiers working! I know I saw plenty of blue aprons muddling around the store, trying their best to look busy. Why the heck aren’t they up here ringing people through? After all, this is where the magic ha …. ooops, I mean this is where the money happens. If anything, they should be up here concentrating on grabbin’ the cash.

Standing there, waiting patiently (no, really, I was) I began to ponder this entire experience. Line up getting in the door. Most of the prices, although apparently rolled back, were seemingly rolled back to 2005 prices, when they were much higher than nowadays. Add to it the fact that lots of name brand items are merely knockoffs. So far this place doesn’t seem to be all I was lead to believe it was. No doubt not all I thought it would be anyway.

Then, to top it off, I have to wait in this excruciatingly long lineup for what seems like hours. Just so I can give them all my money. I’m beginning to think this Wal Mart gig might not be all it’s cracked up to be.

The more I gaze around the room, checking out all the other people waiting in line with me, I gotta admit I started to get a bit freaked out. It was very apparent that a few of them were even more on edge than I was and no doubt about to run out of patience.

That’s when it hit me. Like my first AA meeting. That feeling of knowing you’re not like them and you sure as hell don’t belong there. Yes, I fell for all the advertising, all the marketing mumbo jumbo and I usually know better than to fall for all this stuff. But I had to find out for myself and no doubt, I did.

No more of this crap, time to go! And with that I decided enough was enough. I left my cart right where it was, filled with all the items from my list and just walked out the door. Of course, not without sayin’ goodbye to the Greeter before I walked out. C’mon, she had a great body. I’m only human.

After trudging my way back across the parking lot and getting back in my car, I reflected on what I had just experienced. What a workout. All that time I wasted, a giant list of stuff that I had to leave behind, what a complete disaster. Well, except for the Greeter, that was the only bright spot. Still though, I don’t think it was worth it. Chalk it up to experience I guess.

As I turn the key to start my car, I begin to realize that there’s no way I can go home empty handed. That would make the entire day a complete waste of time. I guess I have no other choice. If you need to get ahold of me, I’ll be at Target. The Home of No Sales Tax. Where everything is cut in half, except the prices.

If you’ve had any similar experiences at Wally World …. oooops, I mean Wal Mart, I’d anjoy hearing about them and if you know of anyone that might have had an unforgetable experience or two while shopping there, I’d appreciate it if you’d share this post with them. Thank you.

Further back than I can even remember, I’ve held onto a dream. The dream of someday owning a 911 Porsche. The appeal has always been there for me, the mystique undeniable.

Even before my first real job, which as it turned out was as an Apprentice Volkswagen Mechanic when I was 15, I have dreamt of owning a 911 Porsche. And I’m sure it goes without saying that if you like the original air cooled Volkswagen Beetles, then a 911 Porsche is without a doubt the end of your rainbow.

Even before I had a Drivers License, I knew I wanted a 911 Porsche. This fact was only reinforced after my first ride in one. As primitive as they were back then compared to todays Models, they were amazingly quick and handled great. Their following was built on their Racing Heritage and attention to detail, both are still very true today. In fact, even more so.

But of course, they were just so far out of reach cost wise that all one could do back then… is dream. And boy oh boy, dream we did! All of my friends were into VW’s. We all belonged to VW Clubs, attended all of the various VW Events throughout Southern California. Basically we were addicted, it was our life. The above picture of me was taken sometime back in the early 80′s. I was driving one of the many VW’s I owned through the years, my 1958 Volkswagen Cabriolet. At that time, I was extremely fond of that car. Without a doubt it was one of my favorites. But like everyone else, no matter how much customization we did, it still would never be a real 911 Porsche.

And as such, all we could do was to continue to take what was left of our meager paychecks and sink every last nickle we had into custom wheels, tires, suspension, engines, interiors, paint jobs, etc., etc. in hopes of someday walking out to our driveway and having our VW pumpkins mysteriously turn into real 911 Porsches overnight. Of course, it never happened. Only the Big Time guys with the big time paychecks had the money to do all of the trick stuff that we dreamed of. And I’m sure that lots of them were chasin‘ the same thing, a REAL 911 Porsche.

This VW Cabriolet (above & below) is a perfect example of “Porsche~izing” a Volkswagen Beetle. All in an effort to live an, at that time, mostly unattainable dream. Known at the time as the “California Look”, the style has taken on quite a few changes since then. But the basic idea behind this customization still remains the same. To morph a Volkswagen Beetle into a 911 Porsche.

And that’s not to say that more money wasn’t invested into this car than would have ever been required to purchase a 911 Porsche but most of these truly beautiful custom VW’s took years to reach the point they did and that was much different than just going down to the Porsche Dealership and plunking down a big chunk of money at one time. Most of these guys did the same thing we did, spent endless hours and paycheck after paycheck, working on a dream in the obscurity of their garages.

Now, the crazy thing here is that this particular 1952 Volkswagen Cabriolet, while undoubtedly one of the rarest VW’s out there and obviously restored with the assistance of a wide open checkbook containing an endless balance, was(is?) For Sale at one point and the asking price, while it might be comparable to the actual cost of purchasing a 1952 VW, then paying someone to restore it, locating all of the incredibly rare parts and accessories that adorn the car, etc., etc., one would really have to LOVE VW’s as the $120K (yes, you read that right, $120,000.00) Price Tag makes a real 911 Porsche look pretty darn inviting. As if it wasn’t already but this would bring the decision front and center in anybodys mind.

For that price you can pick up a super nice Porsche GT3 that’s a year or two old with maybe 5K miles on it. Sure, it won’t be brand new and it might have a small blemish here or there but when you have a Volkswagen that’s worth $120K, chances are you’re not going to want to drive it anyway for fear of putting a scratch on it. Basically it’s just a “Trailer Queen”, something you just sit and stare at. Which is fine, if you have that kind of money and just want something to look at, more power to you. But for me, I’d rather have a car that I can drive and experience as it were. But to each his own. Everyone has their own Dream. Mine has always been to own a super sweet 911 Porsche. Not sure if I mentioned that or not.

Fast forward a couple few years. Hmmmmm, there seems to be a slight problem here. I’m beginning to notice a pattern of sorts. The dream I’ve held for most of my life has yet to manifest. Which of course, is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all. So that basically leaves me with two options. I can either continue on with my life as usual, leaving my dream to fester somewhere way in the back of my mind. Back in the maybe someday it will happen zone, where it’s been for quite some time.

After all, it hasn’t really bothered anybody by sitting back there collecting dust. Nobody, that is, besides me, the dream holder! And to be honest, it’s really been buggin’ the heck out of me for quite some time now. Like to the point that I either have to just completely forget about it(I know what you’re sayin’, good luck with that one) or else I have to actually DO SOMETHING about it! One way or the other, for better or worse, I’ve got to bring it to a conclusion of some sort. Either move forward with it or erase it from my List Of Dreams completely.

Now, as I’m sure you’re well aware, letting go of a dream is no easy feat. In fact, nearly impossible. Especially when you’ve lived it almost your entire life. How do you go about forgetting something that has been there since childhood? And that’s when it dawned on me that there really is no way to just let it go, at least not without giving a serious effort anyway. If after that, things for some strange reason don’t go as planned and my dream doesn’t come true, then I will still be able to hold my head high in defeat, knowing that I truly gave it my all. But to merely walk away without trying, that’s just not gonna happen. That’s just not how I’m wired.

And therefore I’m left with no other option than to persevere, to push forward towards manifesting my dreams. To finally be able to say that I have achieved the dream of a lifetime, the dream of MY lifetime, means more to me than words can even begin to express. And to be able to demonstrate to others as well that if you truly do your best and give it everything you’ve got, ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE in this world. ANYTHING!

If you can relate to having a life long dream, one that you’ve never fully explored, let alone done everything possible to make it come true, I’d enjoy hearing about it in the Comments below and if you know of anyone else that might be able to relate to this Post, please feel free to share it with them. Thank you.

Honest, I did my best. I really tried my darndest to resist temptation. Although I know all the reasons, too many calories, too much grease, any way you choose to look at it, just not healthy for me. Yet, here I was, caught in its greasy grip, the mile long line up at the In ‘N’ Out Burger Drive Thru, anxiously awaiting placement of my order.

With the line being so long I still had time to do the right thing, to turn around and go back home. After all, this burger wasn’t something I had to have, only something I wanted and that alone wasn’t really a good enough reason to indulge. Or was it? Like an invisible magnetic force, pulling me closer and even though I did resist, I still found myself being pulled forward toward that little red framed window. It was at this point that I came to the realization that there was no turning back, no matter how hard I tried.

As I watched the line continue to grow behind me, I was amazed at how many people were obviously on the same wavelength. How can it be so crowded at 2:00 in the afternoon? Hasn’t everyone already eaten? I purposely waited until way after the basic lunch hour to avoid all this commotion but apparently it didn’t do me much good. On the other hand, maybe it did. It’s quite possible this line was even worse a couple hours earlier.

Sitting there, sunroof open, soakin’ up the sunshine along with a few great tunes, it seemed we weren’t moving at all. Goin’ nowhere fast. That’s when I noticed a huge gap in front of the car directly in front of me. Why isn’t this idiot moving? Doesn’t he realize that there are about 100 cars behind me, filled with starving people chompin’ at the bit to get up to the speaker box? I can already feel about 400 eyes burnin’ holes in the back of my head, wonderin’ why I haven’t moved forward in quite some time. Don’t make me go all crazy and start honkin’ my horn!

Then it dawns on me. He’s not moving because there’s a girl taking his order on a faux Ipad and transmitting all his info electronically to the insiders way before he ever get’s to the speaker box. Keep in mind we’re nowhere near the giant lifesize outdoor Menu yet, not even close and yet she expects us to know what we want. I guess it’s easy to assume that most everybody has a pretty good idea what they want already, especially considering the Menu only consists of about ten choices.

Sure, there’s a choice of with or without onions, even how you want them prepared and a few other intricacies that aren’t actually spelled out on the board but for the most part, everybody has their favorites and one would assume they get the same thing every time. I know I do, that’s for sure. While I might change up the drink choice once in a while, it’s very rare that I’ll mess with the rest of the order. Why mess with a good thing? For those that do choose to risk it all, there is the “Not So Secret Menu” which would allow for some out of the box thinkin’ but I don’t really need to go there.

Finally, I get the signal. The sign from Olga the Order Taker to please pull forward. “Wait! What’s going on here?” As I move forward to fill the gap in the lineup, she walks forward at the same time, seemingly mocking my forward progress. Is she making me chase her? Does she just want to feel wanted? Needed in some way? Typical woman. At this point she HAS to know she’s both wanted AND needed as she’s the direct connection, the ONLY connection to the powers that be. Without her, me and everybody else in this huge pile of people behind me are pretty much screwed. Up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

It’s then that I realize she’s just moving forward to allow everyone to fill the gap in the lineup and to give the impression that we are actually making some sort of progress. Inching ever closer to the promised land, the land of the free, the home of the brave. Well, the place where you pay for your food, which is just about the same thing.

All of a sudden, I heard a voice come over the outdoor loudspeaker. “Nine hundred sixty nine, number nine hundred sixty nine!” Hmmm, that answers that. As I was waiting in line, I found myself wondering if it would have been faster to walk inside but as I scanned the faces of all the people that were standing in line and sitting at the outdoor tables, I got the impression that they were just as irritated at the overly long wait. In fact it almost looked like they were somehow blaming those of us in the Drive Thru for the outrageous amount of time they had to wait for their food. Good thing I didn’t walk in.

Finally, so close I could almost touch it but not quite. One more car and I’d be there. Well, not exactly. More like one half of a car. I would have to pull all the way forward, more than likely hitting the bumper of the guy in front of me in order to be able to climb out my window to hand my money to the girl with the headset on. This was due to the fact that a guy a couple cars in front of me had decided to tow a trailer through the Drive Thru (which I can relate to but that’s another story that I’ll save for later) thus causing the line to be a bit out of kilter.

“Ok, here we go. Here’s my money, now where’s my food?” “Your food? Oh, you pick that up at the next window.” Hmmm, the NEXT window? What next window? I can’t see another window. Are you sure there’s another window? There must be some kind of mistake!

“No mistake. Please pull forward!” Hmmm, where have I heard that before? Oh yeah, about an hour ago when I placed my order with the girl holding the Ipad. Here we go again. Up ahead I can see a curve in the road, perhaps the window of which she speaks is up around the bend. Now, when I say road, this road is similar to the old Autopia Ride at Disneyland in that it has high curbs along the sides that seemingly guide you to the promised land. If you somehow jump these curbs, you’re either extremely drunk (again, saving that story for later) or you really didn’t want your burger bad enough after all.

After negotiating this final curve, through the haze and the ripple effect coming off of the overheated cars in front of me, I can just make it out. Like an oasis in the desert, a lake surrounded by palm trees, it’s the little window with the red trim. The window that the girl with the headset spoke of oh so long ago.

But this window is different. Very different. Not quite sure why but I just know it is. Then it dawns on me. It smells different. Yep, this is THE ONE! The one I’ve waited all this time to get to, the one I broke all the rules for. As she read my order back to me again, I wasn’t even listening to her. I just kept saying “YES, YES, YES! Whatever, just give me my food!” The food I ordered about two hours ago. The food I payed for about an hour ago. THAT food.

At this point I pretty much couldn’t care less how close the contents of the bag were to my actual order. In fact, I’m so dizzy and light headed that I can’t even remember WHAT I ordered!

“OK, says here on your receipt that you’ll be taking it home to eat it, so we’ll bag it up.” To which I reply “YES, THROW IT IN A BAG SO I CAN GET THE HECK OUTTA HERE!!!” I’m so hungry at this point that the bag is a mere annoyance, I’ll most likely eat that as well while on my way to the burgers.

“Oh, also says here that you ordered a Chocolate Shake.” “Huh, I did? Oh yeah, I did.” That was such a long time ago I more or less forgot. Good thing she remembered or I would have had to come back. Heck, I’m not even sure I could have handled that and more than likely I wouldn’t have bothered. I would have just cut my losses. To go through that line again wouldn’t have been worth it.

And we’re off! Got my bag of burgers ‘n fries, my Shake and I’m outta here. The way they designed everything here, in order to get back out to the street, you have to wind your way back through the parking lot, skirting the lineup of folks in the Drive Thru lineup. Hmmmm, what a small world.

Just think, only a few short hours ago I too was in this lineup, anxiously awaiting my dream meal. If they only knew. Only had a clue as to the journey that waits ahead for them. I wonder if they’d stay in line if they knew how long it was gonna be before they actually got their food?

As I continued to weave my way between the mish mash of cars, all of which seemed to be in a big hurry to go nowhere, I noticed the changes on the faces of the occupants. The further I got away from the end of the burger rainbow, the more the faces were filled with anxiety and anger. Before I knew it, it started to look like a freeway onramp at 5:00 on a friday afternoon just before a three day Holiday weekend.

Tempers were flaring, blood was beginning to boil, horns began honking, people were cutting other people off, all signs of courtesy being thrown out the window only to be replaced by BURGER RAGE! It has to be seen to truly be understood but there it was, continuing to manifest itself right in front of me. No doubt about it, this was absolute Burger Rage and there was no way to stop it.

How could this have happened? How could a simple trip to the local burger joint turn into an anxiety filled stress test? Only one answer. It’s gotta be the LAW OF STARVATION. Since the beginning of time, the hunt for food has brought out the most savage of tendencies in man and this was just another example of how some things never change.

Upon nearly making it to the exit of the parking lot, almost free, I decided to just find an open parking space, relax for a few minutes and eat my burger in peace. I was pretty much worn out from the whole experience and believe it or not, even hungrier than when I first arrived there oh so long ago.

Sitting there, thankful that I had gotten my food and my time in line was over, I enjoyed my burger and fries. Every last deep fried greasy bite of it. Topped off, of course, with that exquisite Chocolate Shake. To say it was delicious is an understatement.

Upon sucking that last bit of Chocolate scrumptuousness through the straw, a strange thing occured to me. All that frustration, anxiety and stress that I had just suffered through such a short time ago was nearly gone from my memory. All that Burger Rage had been erased, only to be replaced by the sweet memories of a great burger (with grilled onions), real potato fries and an incredible Chocolate shake.

Some kind of magic? I think not. Will I be coming back again? You bet. It’s the law. THE LAW OF STARVATION.

If you can relate to that undeniable hunger and not being able to say NO to what you know is wrong, I’d appreciate hearing your thoughts below and if you enjoyed this post, please share it with your friends. Thank you.

Yes, believe it or not, disaster does create opportunity. Now, you may be saying to yourself, that statement sounds utterly ridiculous and not too long ago I might have been inclined to agree with you.

I mean, really, how on earth can a nightmare come to life turn out to be a gift in disguise? Basically, it’s because what we have isn’t always what we need, despite our thinking to the contrary.

We’ve all heard the saying, “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.” Well I was never a big believer in this theory but as of late, I’ve come to understand it better and it’s quite possible that there may actually be some truth to it.

Take owning a home for example. The American Dream, from our earliest childhood memories, we’ve all dreamed of a place to call our own. A home we could fix up just the way we like it, perhaps right on the beach or maybe a Golf Course, a Lake, the mountains, wherever your dream destination might be. Oh, it would be sooooo wonderful.

Or so we think anyway. For some reason they forgot to mention the huge mortgage payments, Property Taxes, maintenance, upgrades, etc., etc. Next thing you know, your house becomes your life. Every waking (and sometimes sleeping) minute is spent thinking about everything you have to take care of, whether it be monetarily or otherwise and it doesn’t leave you a whole lotta room to enjoy it. I’ve got news for you, home ownership is a full time job.

What about that exotic new car you’ve been dreaming of. You know the one, the 2013 PORSCHEMBORGHINERRARI GTLP6565XV SUPER ITALUDERIA. Oh, what a beauty. All the reviews can’t stop drooling about what an unbelieveable machine it is. “Best car in the world”, “Nothing faster short of an F-18 Hornet”, “Turns on a dime and gives you back two nickles in change!” Yeah, THAT ONE!

So you head on down to the PORSCHEMBORGHINERRARI Dealership, lay down your $980K and drive away with your dream machine. Then it hits you, this thing drives like crap! This isn’t ANYTHING like the reviews said it was. No doubt, given the opportunity, you would have test driven it before you bought it but they wanted you to fill out all the Purchase paperwork, get pre qualified, basically everything you would have to do to purchase the car, short of a final signature and at that point, you weren’t 100% sure you were even gonna buy one.

Too late now, it’s yours. You DID buy it, along with all of the maintenance and upkeep which, according to the warranty, MUST be completed by the Dealership. In essence, you’re locked in for the next three years to $1900 oil changes and $3800 tune~ups. Welcome to the world of Exotic Supercar ownership. Is it everything you thought it would be? Probably not.

Here again, they forgot to mention the fact that you’d really only want to drive this car once or twice a month. Any more than that and you’d either throw your back out from the Super Stiff Sport Suspension or the high cost of maintenance alone would pretty much wipe your wallet out.

Perhaps a Motorhome is more your thing? You could plunk down about $350K, then try to figure out a place to store it for about $500 a month, not to mention upkeep and maintenance. Heaven forbid you actually wanted to use it, that could cost you another couple grand in fuel. For the weekend! Not exactly a dream come true.

My point to all this is the fact that while lots of things sound great, in reality, owning them might not be such a wonderful thing. Things and stuff require effort which in turn removes alot of the fun factor out of owning them.

Which brings me back to my original thought. I had (and still have) lots of those same dreams, just like everyone else. I wanted a place on a Golf Course from as far back as I can remember. Same with an amazing Euro~Exotic Supercar. Way before I even had my Drivers License, I’ve been a Car Guy. It’s in my DNA, no gettin’ around it.

So a few years ago, I stretched myself thinner than Stretch Armstrong ever could and I bought my Dream Condo on the golf course. I had a friend that had let me stay in this very Condo thirteen years prior and I had never forgotten it. So to finally buy THAT same Condo after all this time was a huge achievement for me. Matter of fact, it was for sale when I stayed there and I had kept the Sales Flyer all that time. That’s the kind of impact it had on me and I told myself that someday I would buy it…. and I did.

There I was, my back patio was on the 11th Fairway of The Stadium Course at PGA West in La Quinta and I was livin’ the dream. Waking up to that view every day was more than I could have hoped for.

There was only one thing missing. If I’m gonna live here, behind the gates on Millionaires Row, I need a better car to drive. Not that I was out to impress anyone, I just wanted to fulfill my dream. Nothing wrong with that, right?

So I sold everything I had that wasn’t bolted down and I bought the BMW I had fantasized about since I was a kid. No, I take that back. This BMW was a million times better than anything I could have ever conjured up in my mind.

Just sitting in the car, all of my troubles were immediately forgotten and I was transported to another place and time. Yes, it had an incredible stereo, thirteen speakers pumpin’ out perfection but I found that I rarely had the tunes on as the sound from the 10 cylinder engine was so much sweeter than any song that was playin’ through the speakers. I came to realize that I loved that car as much, if not more than my Condo.

But reality began to sink in. On paper, I had it all figured out. If I sell this, this and this, put that money into this, that will knock down my payments on this which will allow me to put more into this and so at that point, I’ll be able to afford this AND that. Perfect, should be no problem at all.

I was more than willing to sacrifice basically everything I owned just to keep the two things I really wanted. Unfortunately, as we all know, things don’t always go according to plan. Yes, I sold everything I had originally planned to but at nowhere near the prices I had planned on. Time was an issue, basically being under the gun as it were as I had deals that needed funding.

I’m sure most of you have heard by now, we’re pretty much in a recession and all of my cost cutting started right around the same time the Real Estate market began to fall off a cliff. Needless to say, I chased the market downhill but as I look back, not nearly as quickly as I needed to. I should have been running my ass off instead of briskly walking. Oh well, live ‘n’ learn.

Long story short, first thing to go was a rental property I had purchased with a buddy of mine. Next in line was my dream Condo. I was never able to knock down the mortgage payments to something feasible so I had to walk away in a Short Sale. The REAL killer was my BMW. I had a (sickening) feeling that once that was gone, along with it would go all of my motivation. My reason to get out of bed in the morning, my reason to go on.

Was I ever right. Sure enough, watching that car leave on the bed of that tow truck, without me behind the wheel hit me harder than I even thought it would. My biggest dream in life, wiped away in a heartbeat. Talk about a feeling of failure, I immediately became the Poster Child for Loser!

Since then, I also lost another piece of land but nothing hurt as bad as losing my German Dream Machine. And while I would have loved to stay in bed for the next couple (10 or 20) years, I really couldn’t. Mostly because I had to sell all of my furniture as well so no bed to sleep on. It was probably for the best as most of the furniture wouldn’t fit in a Cardboard Condo anyway.

I’m not 100% sure how long it’s been since most of this went down, probably about two or three years and while it’s by no means over yet, some healing has taken place. I still owe a fortune on a HELOC and in Credit Cards, my FICO Score is now about a -33 and I can’t afford a battery operated toothbrush. But besides all that, things are looking good.

Even though I say that sort of sarcastically (ok, REALLY sarcastically), when it comes right down to it, now that I’ve lost everything on earth, strange as it may seem, I’ve also gained something at the same time. HUH? How can that be?

I can hear you right now, laughing, saying what on earth could he have gained? The guy’s a homeless, penniless, Bum that’s in debt up to his eyeballs, no way could he have gained anything. (BTW, I take offense to the Bum comment)

Well, you’d be wrong. After losing my hopes, dreams and pretty much every material thing I owned (and some I didn’t own), I actually gained something that (luckily) can’t be bought. If it was something that you had to buy, I couldn’t afford it. It’s something that most all of us take for granted, at least until we lose it. It’s Freedom. I gained back some of my freedom.

We tend to lose some freedom as we take on more responsibility, that’s the trade off. And a sacrifice that one must be willing to make if you’re gonna participate in life.

No big deal, you’d think, as the stuff you’re gonna buy gives you some freedom as well. Freedom to come and go and to BE whatever it is you want to be. Freedom to live your life the way you want to.

But responsibility can be a hell of a burden. It doesn’t seem to be highlighted in a Purchase Agreement when you buy a home or on the Window Sticker when you buy a vehicle but no doubt it’s there, hovering over you like a vulture awaiting its next meal.

Do I have any regrets from some of my past decisions? You better believe it. Do I feel like a failure? Damn right I do. If I could go back and do it over again, would I make the same decisions? HELL NO! What do you think I am, an idiot?

But at the point in my life when this all started, I had to make some serious decisions. I owned a house, free and clear and I could have just sat in the driveway, staring at the beautiful view and gotten drunk every day for the rest of my life (as short as that might have been). That was option one and since I had quit drinking just about a year or so prior to all this goin’ down, I really wasn’t likin’ that option too much.

Option two was to totally change my life, chase my dreams, live a life that I had always wanted to. I had lived a life of misery for so long that I HAD to make a change. So I sacrificed everything to make my dreams come true and for a short while, I WAS living my dream. Then reality (with an assist from the tanking of the Real Estate market) stepped in and kicked my ass. It was(is) a beat down I won’t soon forget. How can I, the Collection Agencies won’t let me!

Luckily for me time marches on and with that I’m beginning to look at things from the other side. Sure, I have nothing left but on the other hand, I have nothing left. Nothing left to get in my way, to keep me from rebuilding my life, the way I want to. Ok, so it might be a couple few years before I’m able to finance a toaster but hell, when it comes right down to it, toast is overrated anyway.

Who would have ever thought that all the disasters of these last couple years would have opened up any new opportunities? Not me, that’s for sure. I had been so busy wallowing in all my misery, throwing one continuous Pity Party for myself that I couldn’t hold my head up long enough to see anything in my future besides a life of couch surfin’ and microwave burritos. At least until I could find a decent place to homestead my new Cardboard Condo.

With a drastic change in my mindset and a severe attitude adjustment, I’m beginning to feel that rather than letting this be the end to my Dream Life, I’d much rather redirect my focus towards fulfilling another life long dream or two.

And who knows, maybe this new life of mine might even be a little less stressful than before. Hey, I can dream, can’t I? After all, everything in life comes from a dream. One thing’s for sure, it’s gonna be different and with that comes more opportunities that I’m not even aware of…. yet.

And so maybe losing everything has some kind of a silver lining to it, perhaps it wasn’t all for nothing. Maybe it was to learn a lesson on what NOT to do with your life. I’ve always been a risk taker, that won’t change. I firmly believe that without taking risks, there’s no rewards. But in the future, I’ll make sure my Ego and my Pride aren’t drivin’ the train!

From Disaster…. Comes Opportunity. Can you believe I just said that? I can…. now.

If you have any similar experiences in this type of a situation, I’d enjoy hearing about them and how you went on to conquer them. And if you enjoyed this post, please feel free to share it with your friends. Thank you.