This Point In Time

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 7 Number 03
This Point In Time

October is nearly over. The days are pleasant and not filled with the sweat inducing blazing heat that they were just a short time ago. The desert southwest evenings are getting crisp. Vegetation is turning brown (or browner, as the case may be). Blah, Blah, Blah.

Frankly, I have no idea about what to write. That is why, if you have checked my blog over the past several months, the same tattoo story has been sitting there. Maybe this thing has run its course?

I have been pretty much the same. Doing the things I do. My life is still somewhat devoid of the ever elusive triad of love, money and power. I believe those things will come. I think. I hope.

I’ve been chasing love most of my life. Sometimes I catch up to it only to have it escape again. My problem may be me. I am a romantic and I seem to want the moments that I see in movies. I try to…

What the hell am I talking about? Who cares? It will or it will not happen. And, contrary to popular belief, the lack of love is not due to “high standards.” My history speaks for itself. I have been with tall, short, thin, fat, beautiful, ugly, nice, mean, sweet, hostile, good, bad and ugly women. I was with each of them because I saw something worthwhile within. Admittedly, sometimes it was just good sex, but there was always some redeeming quality in each of them.

I have very often been able to take the good with the bad. However, I am now at a point in my life where I feel that I deserve more than just a check mark or two on the good side of the equation when it comes to a partner. Additionally, I would like whomever “she” may end up being to feel like she is getting more good than bad.

Money is funny. I have never been rich. I have, however, been at opposing ends of a wide spectrum. I have been comfortable – with the capability to take care of all the bills and have money left over for trips and fun. I have been destitute – with absolutely no money, dodging the landlord, hoping friends would invite me to dinner so I could eat, two days from not having a place to live.

They say money does not buy happiness. “They” are full of shit. Sure, it may not buy spiritual happiness, but the security and fun that money can buy sure can make a person smile. It can also pave the road to true happiness so it is much easier to get there. Conversely, it can ruin people, and lead to true unhappiness. Money is just like any other tool. You just have to use it correctly.

Luckily, I feel I am on the upward swing on the monetary end of things. After I pay all my bills, I have a few bucks left over. It may not yet be enough to go buy a home or take off tomorrow for a trip to the orient, but it is a damned sight better than being two days away from homeless.

Power? Meh. I just mentioned it because it seems to be part of the aforementioned triad. Power isn’t really that important to me. I would rather just earn the respect and admiration of the people around me. A SUPERpower, however… that is a different story. I would LOVE to have a superpower.

With all that being said, I am doing pretty well. I am at a point where I am generally happy. Sure, I have a few things that I would really like to and need to change within and about myself. Sure, I get down sometimes. All in all, however, I’m enjoying where I am at this point in time.

I also feel that I have reached an inner peace. It is not the end-all-be-all inner peace, but it is an inner peace. I think I am getting closer to coming to terms with myself. Knowing myself better. Knowing what I am. Knowing who I am. Knowing what kind of man I want to be.

It feels good.

Of course, I would rather just be a movie star.

Until Next Time,
Wayne

By the way, since no one had any good ideas of how to fix my tattoo, I am still stuck with this disfigurement on my left arm.

I’m Batman?

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 7 Number 02
I’m Batman?

I have always liked Batman and I would say that he is my favorite “super” hero.

He is my favorite “super” hero for the same reason that he is favorite of many people: he is NOT super. If you say the money and the training and the cool gear, you have a normal man. A man with flaws. A mere mortal. No off world birth. No radioactive spider bite. Just a man.

One day, sometime in the late 80s, John Mobbs and I ran out of his house, high up on Thunder Road, and jumped into my 1980 Ford Pinto. As I started the car, I told John that, since I was driving this time, I got to be Batman and he had to be Robin. Then John uttered the most awesome sentence that has ever been said to me.

John said, “Wayne, you’re ALWAYS Batman!”

I don’t know if John knew it, but I took that statement to heart and, since that day, I have always tried to live a good, decent & honest life. In my own small way, I have always tried my best to help people when I could. Sure, I have had times when inner and outer influences have gotten the better of me and I wasn’t the best “good guy” I could be. I wasn’t the strongest I could be. Hell, there have been occasions when I actually turned and was indeed a “bad guy.” As I have aged, I have cleaned up my act quite a bit and beaten many of my demons.  I have become more of a good guy than I have ever been. If you think about it: all of that is Batman.

Me being Batman became a thing. Pop Mobbs stopped referring to me as Ruprecht, their retarded son and started introducing me to his friends and associates as “The Batman: he’s with the Justice League.” When people were lacking for gift ideas for me, they often gave me Batman paraphernalia. At one time, I even had an incredible girlfriend who called me “Batz.” Once, I even scaled a football stadium light pole to the dizzying top just to prove to a couple of skeptical, passing strangers that I was indeed The Batman. One time, after a fight with a couple of drunkards, I even washed the fresh blood from my face with the water of a church fountain and applied pressure with my Bat logo emblazoned jacket – very Dark Knight-esque.

When I turned 21, I decided that I should put the fact that I was Batman in ink. So, I set off to get my tattoo. And, yes, kids, I waited until I was a full-fledged adult to get a tattoo. My girlfriend (different than the aforementioned) knew a tattoo artist and we set the appointment.

Back then; tattoos were not nearly as ubiquitous as they are now. Ergo, neither were Las Cruces tattoo parlors. In fact, this particular tattoo artist worked from her home… I’ll just say it – from her singlewide trailer. I checked out her operation though, and saw that she sterilized all of her tools very well and I viewed many samples of her work and it was very good. So, “I got inked.” The design I took in came out very nicely on my upper left arm/shoulder and I was quite happy.

Here’s how it looked:

Yes, I said “looked,” with an –ed on the end. As we all know, things change and, I now know, so do tattoos. See, years passed and I had kind of forgotten about my ink. It had become a part of me and I rarely looked at it. It wasn’t until the Bigheads began poking fun and calling me by something other than Batman, that I realized that something bad had happened.

Yes, I had become “Ratman!” When I got the tattoo, I had some normal expectation of the ink fading, but to become “Ratman!?” How embarrassing this was. So, after this horrendous discovery, I kept the abomination under wraps and went on with life – for a while.

Finally, I was sick of it. I must have been about 30 years old, because The Boy had joined the world, when I decided to get it fixed. How could I raise a son with an effed up Batman tattoo that now said Ratman? I couldn’t.

My then wife and I made an appointment with a tattoo artist she knew and went down to get the curse fixed. I felt good about this, because we were going to an actual tattoo parlor staffed by professionals – or so I thought.

Now, I don’t know what the deal was. I don’t know if the guy was high or drunk or couldn’t keep his eyes off of my wife, but the repair job he did on my tattoo ended up being anything but! When it was fresh it didn’t look bad and anything I questioned as not looking quite right, he said looked that way because I was bleeding and it was still swollen, etc. Like it mattered, because it was permanent anyway.

I know! With this computer-generated rendition, I am being VERY generous! The real thing is an atrocity! Don’t believe me? 

If I had a birthmark that looked like that, you would all say “Awesome!” Since that is NOT a birthmark and it is indeed a tattoo, I know you are all saying “Yikes!” As am I – and have been for the past 16 years.

Why didn’t I get it fixed right away? Frankly, I was just so salted out by the whole thing that I didn’t want to mess with it. Plus, I was afraid it would get screwed up even more and I would end up with just a big black splotch on my arm. I mean, a big black splotch that doesn’t resemble the Batman logo at all.

Maybe this 25-year tattoo fiasco is telling me that I’m not actually Batman. But, then again…

What started out as an off-hand remark by my best friend has been a bit of a guiding light in my life. A dark light, but a light nonetheless. The thought of being The Batman has helped me through a multitude of hard times and though I am not a master of every fighting art; and even if I am not a billionaire with a manor, a butler and seemingly endless money and resources; and regardless of the fact that I am not a caped crusader who fights and conquers villains in the night.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

I’m Batman. 

Until Next Time,

Wayne

EPILOGUE: With all that being said, I need help! All you artsy types need to design a new tattoo to cover the bat-forsaken blemish on my arm. It does not have to be Bat-related. I guess it DOES have to start out with a big black circle! I had thought some sort of eclipse might look cool, but I don’t know. I just have to change this! Feel free to submit any REAL ideas to my Facebook page. I’m serious. I need ideas! I love science fiction. Firefly/Serenity inspired is good. My son is named for D’Artagnan – the fourth Musketeer. Just remember, absolutely NO Top Gun! Hate!

Positive Thoughts?

WAYNE’S WORDS
Volume 7 Number 01
Positive Thoughts?

So, this is the blog?

I don’t know what to say.

I have been busy.

I have been lazy.

Seriously, I really don’t have any real reason for not posting on this blog since…June of last year?! Wow! I suck!

• I kept telling myself I should post, but I could never really think of anything about which to write. I’m not an author.
• I would tell myself that I was disappointing readers, but I felt that the 3 or 4 people who actually read the blog talked to me everyday anyway. I’m not a star.
• When I would think of something, I asked myself who was I to be trying to deliver some sort of wisdom to people. I’m not wise.

If you can’t tell, I have been a bit down on myself for a while. Besides my normal, self-deprecating humor, I have felt pretty low.

Last year was a tough one for me. Loss of friends, economy induced cut in pay, troubles for people really close to me, etc.

I know that we all have those things with which to deal and that we actually all have negative things occurring constantly. Last year I just felt – well, I felt beat up.

Alas, ast year is gone and this year seems to be on track and maybe even a bit better track than last year. So, I figured I would sit down and type up some thoughts, but I really don’t have any right now. How about this… I will write a bit about the three bullet points above.

I know those bullet points sound quite “poor me,” but we have to admit that we all have feelings like that. They are NORMAL feelings. If one never has those types of feelings, then one is generally a pompous, arrogant ass who thinks they can do whatever they want without consequences. Then they go into politics and perpetuate their arrogance.

Bullet Point One: I’m not an author.

It is really lame for me to think that way. I may not be fancy and have countless books being read by millions of people, but I AM an author.

au·thor /ôTHər/ Noun A writer of a book, article, or report. Verb Be the author of (a book or piece of writing): "he has authored several articles on wildlife”. Synonyms: Noun writer - originator - creator - composer – scribe. Verb write – compose.

There is the proof that I am indeed an author. I write this silly little blog, don’t I? Of course I do. One can even say that it is “published.” It IS on the internet available for the planet to read. I have seen people “stoopider” than me interviewed on news programs and acquire jobs as judges on contest shows, because they were “bloggers!” I usually say, “What has THAT moron ever done? Written a blog? What a joke!” Now I realize that their notoriety gives me legitimacy. After all, blogger is just internet speak for author! (I know it actually comes from the contraction of two root words “web log” and that if we were called web loggers, people might think we were cyber lumberjacks and protest us for cutting down the virtual rainforest or something!) What I am trying to say is that, I write it, someone reads it. I AM AN AUTHOR

Bullet Point Two: I’m not a star.

I guess I actually am. As far as the blog goes, people have commented that they like reading it and can’t wait for another and that they were able to learn something or laugh about something or were at least a little bit entertained and that I should write more, etc. All of that is a kindness, but I guess it makes me a little star-like.

Outside of the blog I am a wee bit of a star and have been for a while – I guess. I’ve been in a band, on local TV, interviewed on national radio, had guest appearances on radio shows, had a morning radio show, I emcee events, etc.

Sure I don’t get paid millions and women aren’t throwing themselves at my feet and I don’t have a giant mansion and I don’t go jetting off to exotic locales, and I can still walk down the street without being recognized, etc. Sure, much of that would be nice, but even though I am a very small and faint one, to my friends and family, I AM A STAR.

Bullet Point Three: I’m not wise.

This one is a bit harder to refute. I am NOT wise. I have thoughts that are sometimes deep and sometimes said thoughts will shed light on at least one’s human condition – mine, but I’m not wise. Hell, as I age, I am finding it harder and harder to absorb new information and learn new things. That leads me to believe that I’m not even very smart. My business partner can rattle off every bit of inventory we have, its purpose, price, etc. while I am still trying to find said item on a spreadsheet.

wise /wīz/ Adjective Having or showing experience, knowledge, and good judgment: "a wise precaution". Noun The manner or extent of something. Synonyms: adjective sage - clever - sapient - judicious – intelligent. Noun manner - way - mode - fashion - method – modus.

Now that I have read the definition, maybe I AM wise. I do know that I am experienced and that is the first part of the definition! Woo Hoo! I’m Wise.

The strange thing about saying these positive things about me is that it makes me feel like I am being full of myself and like I am being a pompous, arrogant ass that is going to end up in politics.

While I may or may not be an author, a star, wise and/or more – let’s call me what I am. I’m just a regular guy tryin’ to get by.

That feels right. That feels like the perfect amount of humility. See, if I ever did become super famous, or rich, or attractive or genius… I would never want to be a narcissistic son of bitch that thinks his shit doesn’t stink. Trust me, I’ve met a lot of people like that (both super-stars and regular-walking-around-town folk) and they suck!

I never want to be like that. So, regardless of what life has in store for me, whether it is grand or mundane, I would like to stay me.

Robert Wayne Sinclair – Just a regular guy, tryin’ to get by.

Until Next Time,
Wayne