RANTINGS OF A CHILDISH GRANDFATHER

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Get Off The Pot Before It’s Too Late

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Hi there, it’s been quite a long time since I’ve blogged.

I leave it to my instincts, I don’t blog just to write something, I usually have to be motivated and/or inspired.

In truth, I HAVE been motivated/inspired to write on a topic for quite a while now, but have resisted the urge to do so, knowing the current shit storm on the topic will continue with this article.

Here we go…..

voting-booth

The 2016 Presidential Election.

I am not here to tell you who I am voting for.

I have made up my mind, but it’s my business, not yours.

If I said who, no matter WHICH candidate, I’m gonna get blasted by the other side(s), and frankly, I don’t want or need the hassle.

I am not here to tell YOU who to vote for.

That’s YOUR business.

What I AM here to tell you, is this year, more than ever, it’s vital to vote for WHOEVER you select.

That’s the process.

I am writing this on Sunday, November 6th, two days before the Election.

It is ONLY very recently I made my final decision on who I am voting for.

I really don’t like ANY of these people.

I believe I am FAR from alone on that last statement.

As of this writing, millions have already voted, with millions more ready to hit the switch on Tuesday.

That said, the pundits have had the hardest time predicting the outcome.

So what is a person to do, if, like me, they would rather pick “None of the above?”

The WRONG thing to do is NOT vote at all!

It seems this year, choosing the next President has become MUCH more complicated.

Usually, one picks “their person” to do the job.

But, if you don’t like (for example in this campaign) Candidate A, Candidate B, Candidate C or Candidate D, who DO you pick.

I have heard many will select one candidate over the others as a way to make sure the others don’t stand a chance, rather than selecting that candidate for what he or she can really do.

That’s not really a glowing endorsement for the candidate you DO select, but part of me understands the logic, at least this year.

If that is your choice this year, go with God, AT LEAST YOU VOTED.

There are many who select the candidate of their chosen party every year no matter what, BUT, we have seen cases being made this year where, for example, those registered to the party of Candidate A do not like what the candidate represents, perhaps the candidate is so far off the party platforms they will vote instead for Candidate B, C or D.

If that is your choice this year, go with God, AT LEAST YOU VOTED.

I have also heard of many saying they are going to write in a name as their choice for President.

Your choice, BUT ONLY if you write in an acceptable name!

If you remember, in the last year, there have been MANY people who ran to get their parties nomination and came up short.

Writing in the name of any of THOSE people, if you believe in them, in my opinion is the right thing to do, let the process work.

HOWEVER, in my opinion, writing in the name of say “Ronald McDonald”, “Glen from The Walking Dead” or “My Mom” is TRULY a wasted vote, and does not move the process along.

Write in yes, write in for a viable candidate yes, write in just to show the country you are an asshole, no.

If that is your choice this year, go with God, AT LEAST YOU VOTED.

I am proud to say, as I close up on 61 in a couple of months, I have voted in EVERY election in EVERY year since I was 18, NO MATTER what race or issue is on the ballot.

It’s my RIGHT to do so, and it’s YOUR right to do so, if for nothing else BECAUSE you have the right to do so.

And yes I know all about the Electoral College, but that’s still a moot point when it comes to the FREEDOM of you being able to choose.

Finally, and I say this EVERY year, there are many who just will not vote, or have never voted.

In general, many of the many will bitch and moan every chance they get when politicians don’t “get the job done.”

Even though, and ESPECIALLY BECAUSE they didn’t pick someone in the election.

To all of those, four simple words…..shut the fuck up…..

You want change, vote.

You want to keep status quo, vote.

You don’t select, shut the fuck up, until you DO vote.

Happy picking.

Yes I AM Jolly, Thanks For Asking!

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There’s a reason why I write this now.

Not to whine.

Not to bitch.

Not to complain.

Something happened to me yesterday at the doctor’s office that really pissed me off.

(Before anyone potentially freaks out, all is well, health wise, I actually plan to outlive all of you bastards..)

I will explain at the end of this blog.

Oh, if you are in the medical profession, please don’t psycho analyze me.

Let’s begin with an introduction…

Hi, I’m Mike, and I’m a Fat Fuck…

(Hi Mike)

I have had issues with my weight (but not ALWAYS my health) for the bulk (pun intended) of my 60 years on the face of the earth.

And it has been the MOST frustrating thing I have ever had to deal with.

I can NEVER remember a time as a child where I was a “normal” size.

But I was healthy, or so I (and my parents) thought.

As mentioned in an earlier blog, when I was a child I developed the croup, and in doing so stopped breathing for a time, and had to be “trached.”

From that day on, I had issues with food.

Either I ate the “WRONG” food, or I ate too MUCH food, or I wasn’t active enough to burn off whatever food I DID consume.

Which limited the types of clothes I could wear.

(My mother was VERY good at shopping the Army Navy Store.)

Speaking of clothes and fat people, why were the styles and colors SO limited?

A pause for a moment to clarify something.

I…..am…..fat…..

not…..heavy…..

not…..obese…..

not…..overweight…..

not even…..big boned…..

and it’s quite OK.

Fat people can refer to themselves as fat.

It’s also an unwritten rule that fat people can refer to OTHER fat people as fat.

But if a non fat person calls a fat person fat, the non fat person has just opened up the Gates of Hell.

It’s sorta like, for example, an African American referring to another African American as…that word.

But if a non African American calls an African American…that word…well we know how that turns out.

Being a fat child was quite difficult for someone with few friends at the time, and especially after my father passed when I was 13.

Kids can be very cruel.

Teasing hurt…..bad.

Picked on, bullied, beat up, in part because I was quite clueless to the ways of the world and socialization at the time, but also in part because I looked…..different.

One of the most EMBARRASSING times in my life was in 7th Grade at Shaker Junior High.

It was a Friday night dance/play night, the FIRST time I was hanging out with school buds outside of the classroom.

Early in the evening, a group of us are working with a giant size medicine ball in the gym..it comes to me…and I split my pants, BAD!

7th Grade.

I remember that night like it was yesterday.

I hid in a bathroom for the rest of the night until my mother came to pick me up.

Things got a bit better in High School.

Still didn’t know where I was headed or what I was gonna do in life, but my tolerance level increased, and SOME of the teasing and bullying eased up.

In 10th Grade I was on the JV Football team, second string, wasn’t very good, wasn’t a jock or really into sports.

But I was still reaching for something.

The jocks didn’t want me, but in time I renewed a friendship with a guy I knew from back in 4th Grade.

He was a 10th Grade “Hippie” by that time, so it was all love, peace and happiness.

It was also rebellion time, which led to a somewhat minor run in the two of us had with the law.

He and I moved on (and reconnected years later), but I was still searching for something again.

That came in 11th Grade with my introduction to the stage, which in time introduced me to broadcasting.

To “Theater People” (and eventually to “Radio People”), you were accepted for YOU; not your looks, but YOU..

These people thought like me, acted (personality wise not performance wise) like me, appreciated me for me.

No, I will NOT use the Sally Field line, but it IS true.

From High School Theater to College Theater, from College Broadcasting to Professional Broadcasting, I HAD FINALLY FIT IN!

I learned something else from my talented friends.

These people were BRILLIANT!

They could drop insults like Hillary drops e-mails.

(NOT a political statement, just made me laugh so I chose to put it in.)

They taught me the art of the insult, the slam, the diss, they taught me to develop a thicker skin, thicker than what was growing from the increased calories.

AND I LOVED IT!

I’ve also taken professional advantage of the added pounds, by making fun of myself, even in an exaggerated way on the air or on the stage.

Radio is WONDERFUL theater, if they don’t know what you look like, they will believe what you tell them on the air if you’re convincing enough.

Years ago, in Boy Scouts, I was given the nickname “Moose”

(in part I believe because my Scoutmaster couldn’t pronounce Marchinuke).

I embraced it, and to THIS day, long time friends will STILL call me Moose.

In Radio, I have used the name “Big Mike Patrick,.”

I have also referred on air to myself as “Radio Fat Guy” and “Big Tub O’ Goo,” among others.

A shrink would call it a defense mechanism, and perhaps it is, BUT it cuts the tension like a knife used to add butter to the bag of popcorn.

So, am I bitter?

I was a long time ago, now, don’t give a fuck WHAT you think, I like me…

Don’t accept who I am, oily skin and all? Kiss my ass you prejudiced piece of crap.

Oh yeah, before I stop, the doctor thing.

Haven’t been feeling well and wanted to get checked out.

Instead of my usual doctor, I get a Physician’s Assistant.

A somewhat…..thin…..Physician’s Assistant.

The ones who think EVERYONE should look the same.

He noticed in the last few times I have been in, there is no record of my current weight.

I get my weight taken twice a year, at my semi annual check ups with my doctor.

So the snobby PA starts getting judgemental and starts to chastise me for not having taken my weight, and adds, “Let’s go do that now.”

“No thank you.”

What do you mean no thank you?”

“I don’t feel like it.”

“But you HAVE to.”

“No I don’t, my regular doctor is OK with me taking it twice a year, you’ll have to too…or would you like to call my doctor right now and ask him?”

He moved on.

I knew, and he knew, the odds were in my favor.

My doctor is a fat fuck too…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Great TV Series Let Downs

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We have a simple rule in our house, we call it “The Five Minute Mandate”.

When my wife and I get ready to watch a new TV series, or special, or movie, we (and when I say we it usually means she) allow five minutes to see if it will be “good”.

Most times the series/special/movie loses.

My wife is VERY picky.

She won’t watch (what she defines as) crap.

In my opinion, most women are like her.

Most guys, however, will watch anything as long as it’s moving..

or if there’s blood…

or dirty words…

or boobs…

or it’s the Three Stooges.

So when there’s a show we BOTH like, we really invest in it, and if everyone is lucky, we stay with it till the bitter end.

In 2009, we saw the first promos for “The Good Wife,” I was fascinated, my wife, eh..

Much of the eh had to do with incorporating Tammy Wynette’s “Stand By Your Man” in the promo.

My wife is not a real fan of Country Music, and Tammy Wynette in particular.

Nonetheless, we watched the pilot and were IMMEDIATELY hooked.

This was a show with STRONG characters.

This was a show with STRONG story lines.

This was a show with STRONG writing.

This show was above and beyond, our FAVORITE, in fact, I told anyone I could I thought it was the BEST show currently on TV.

This past year we got a double, no triple whammy.

Whammy one, the creators of the show announced they were leaving.

Whammy two, Julianna Margulies announced SHE was leaving.

Whammy three (although after Whammy two it was obvious), “The Good Wife” was ending it’s run.

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We watched the finale, and, as we feared, something was..missing.

Hard to put a finger on it.

Lot of plotlines unresolved?

No “happy ending” (WAS there SUPPOSED to be a happy ending?)

To use a word from earlier…eh.

We felt empty.

We felt cheated.

The whole thing felt rushed.

We put a LOT of time and effort into this show, and in the end, we, and from what I have heard, quite a few other people, didn’t get the “money shot” we were expecting.

The problem is twofold; the QUALITY of the show for the majority of the run has been ABOVE AND BEYOND what was expected.

This show worked best when milking a storyline, taking it as far as possible, with lots of bumps bruises and OMG moments (RIP Will Gardner) that kept you on the edge of your seat every week.

Well, except the weeks it was delayed or postponed because of the damn football games or damn golf tournaments.

But I digress.

We’re moving on, but the finale left a bad taste in our mouths.

Certainly not the first time, certainly not the last.

Off the top of my head, there are a few series that gave me the same feeling after their runs.

First one that comes to mind is “Lost”

OK people, we KNOW you’re all dead, we knew it from Season One Episode One, you couldn’t come up with SOMETHING else?

“Dexter,” Essentially everyone dies and he just walks away?

“Roseanne,” What do you mean a dream? Dan DIES?

“Prison Break,” Michael is DEAD? The last scene is set in the future? (NEVER a good sign), can’t WAIT to see how the brothers get back together when the show returns, you know, cuz one brother is DEAD!

“Entourage,” Lame, lame and lame at the end. WHY did ANYONE think a movie would work? Answer, it DIDN’T!

“Dallas,”  A double dose of screw up, in the first run, the Devil did a “It’s A Wonderful Life” on JR, then we hear gunfire off camera? Cliff hanger..REALLY? Then on the second run, it was GREAT…then Larry Hagman died, points for trying without JR, but “Dallas” is simply NOT “Dallas without JR.

“St. Elsewhere,” The imagination of an autistic kid? RAINMAN could not have come up with a lamer ending.

“The Sopranos,” I would have given ANYTHING to see Steve Perry walk in the diner and off the whole f*cking family.

There are MANY more I could mention, probably a lot you watched I didn’t, feel free to comment.

As for “The Good Wife,” I had a “bucket list” of an ending that would have topped “Newhart,”…

Alicia decides to pack it all up, leave family, friends, career, and run away with a doctor at a Chicago hospital…

played by George Clooney.

 

 

 

 

Memories Of Marie

MIKE'S MOM

Like many people my age, certain days are not so bright and sunny as they are to others.

As I am now 60 and climbing, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are two of them.

Oh it’s great to be acknowledged by the kids and grand kids, but without my parents around, the days really have less meaning.

I’ve mentioned before my dad passed in 1969, when I was 13, needless to say I have well moved on from those initial down days.

This Fall will mark 11 years since Mom passed.

I addressed that and more in an earlier blog, that while wasn’t totally a bummer, still was like an open sore to me.

If you missed it, take a read and come back. (https://marchinuke.wordpress.com/2014/05/09/fing-alzheimers/)

OK, the disease sucks, it’s horrible on the victim, as well as the families, friends and loved ones.

But what I do NOT want it to do is define HER.

THAT my friend, is another story.

So please allow me to share with you what my Mom meant to me, perhaps, if you know me, you can get a better idea of who I really am through her.

Normally, the strongest bond between parent and child would be (IMO) between mother and daughter.

In my case, I was an only child, well I had my step sister Judy, who was sixteen years older, but that doesn’t really count, so Mike and Marie seemed, special.

In truth, in my early years she tried to con me into things, and I was dumb/uninformed, in order to teach me how to make it through life.

If you’re a mom, you may appreciate some of these.

When I was very young, I ate every kind of food my mom put in front of me.

One day, however, I developed the croup, and while I don’t have many memories of that, I DO remember not being able to breathe, turning JUST a little blue, and being rushed to the ER, where they cut me open and shoved a breathing tube down the throat.

(Unashamed fact, I actually tried to use the scar I have on my neck as a badge of honor when I attempted to pick up women in bars, telling them I got cut in a knife fight.)

It never worked, but I looked pathetic enough to many of them it got me a mercy f*ck.

Any port in a storm…

My point to this, from the moment I got “tubed”, I developed a mental block…I will pause for a moment for you to come up with the proper joke about me using the word mental…OK, I continue…

Whatever the reason, I suddenly would HATE a lot of different type of foods I used to love, fruits, vegetables, meats, etc.

Not sure why, but perhaps I thought THAT would be the one food that would bring me to a dirt nap.

And while I all of a sudden STOPPED eating many of the GOOD foods I had been eating, I started (as a way of compensating) eating too much of the BAD food.

That’s one of the reasons I’ve always been a stout fellow over the years…

Well there’s the diabetes in the family too, but…

My mom would try EVERYTHING to attempt to get me to taste “new” food.

One that sticks out was giving me sausage and telling me it’s Canadian Bacon.

Bacon…..ohhhhhh…sorry…..

She got me to try lamb by making patties and saying it’s just a hamburger.

On the other end, she worried about my weight, to the point where she COUNTED food, for example how many slices of bread was in the loaf, so I wouldn’t overeat.

I was by myself a lot, and she couldn’t always be around to help me.

If she had to, she would weigh the cereal.

Now before you say she’s bring cruel, stop, I had a big problem back then, in many ways I have a big problem now.

Much in part because of the damn croup.

We didn’t have research available in those days, she did the best she could.

Wish she was here now whenever I have pizza.

Moving on..

Mom did a LOT of things she didn’t have to, especially since Dad wasn’t around.

For example, when we wanted to see R rated movies (where an adult would have to be with us), we would all chip in and pay for Mom, once the movie started she split.

One time I talked her into taking me to see the Rolling Stones film “Gimme Shelter,”

not knowing one scene had a stoned guy at the concert with his…..member…..in his hand…..keeping time with the music.

I kept saying to Mom “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…”

Mom just kept saying “Shut up I’m watching the movie.”

My favorite “growing up” story about Marie took place Senior Year at Shaker High School.

I went out with friends to a bar one night, got REAL drunk, and woke up the next morning REAL hungover, and REAL sick.

HAD to make it to class very first thing, had a test I couldn’t miss.

By the third period, however, Uncle Ralph came to town.

Mom was called from her job at Grand Way Department Store, picked me up, but instead of heading home we went to Scottie’s Pub…

The scene of the crime the night before.

We go in and she gets a pitcher of beer…for me…

She took the rest of the day off and said we would leave when I finished the pitcher…by myself…

This was 10 AM…

We were there the rest of the day and a good portion of the night, it took me THAT long to finish the brew.

I understand she was trying to teach me a lesson.

I learned it…

for about two weeks…

One last quickie…there are so many I can think of but that’s for another time.

I always amazed my mother with the fact I made a career out of broadcasting.

I don’t remember it but she always told me I had a very bad stuttering problem as a child.

For the first part of my career, I was working at radio stations in Ohio, I would send tapes of my shows to Mom, but it never was the same as hearing it live, and in truth I’m not sure she ever actually listened to the tapes, but she always said she did, and that was good enough.

In Fall, 1986, I was lucky enough to “come home” and got a gig in Albany working nights at CHR/Top 40 FLY 92, under the air name “Shadow Michaels.”

Took Mom the longest time trying to figure out why I wasn’t using my real name, but in time she embraced “the other me” and went above and beyond to sell her son the disc jockey.

Can’t tell you how many remote broadcasts or live events I was involved in where I met someone who said they were a friend of Marie’s.

She couldn’t wait for my Aunt Helen or Uncle Charlie to come to town so she could turn on the radio and “show off”.

Countless nights, after my step dad went to bed or there wasn’t anything on TV she wanted to watch, she would would go in the kitchen, turn on the radio and play solitaire while Shadow did his thing.

She was my biggest fan and harshest critic, I gave her the studio “Hot Line” number, and when it lit up, and knowing my last break sucked, I was expecting the boss, and I GOT the boss, just not the one who payed me, but the one who birthed me…

And she was all about TELLING me I sucked too, she pulled no punches and was BRUTALLY honest, something I try to achieve for myself every day.

She was just as supportive of me when I performed in a play or musical, but if I stunk up the joint, she would say so, then offer advice on how to do better.

This from someone who never was on stage.

THAT’S the Marie I will always remember…

and whenever I play jokes or get goofy with my grandsons, I’m giving them an idea how Great Grandma Marie would be.

And oh yeah…

she SO would do the “pull my finger” thing.

Love ya Mom…miss you lots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Song’s For The Workin’ Man

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The Country Music World, and the Music World in general, has lost an icon in Merle Haggard, and I lost a big personal favorite.

I  have been a Country fan for at least 50 of my 60 years on earth, my parents played a local Country radio station (no longer around, as are my folks) around the clock while I was growing up in Albany, NY.

I saw my first Country show at age 8, the headliner was George Jones.

I got my first radio job at age 21, it was a Country station.

I have never looked back.

Hag, like Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, transcended what people perceived as “Country”

Their magic was in the words, the way they took their life experiences and put them to music and lyrics.

I defy anyone who has lost a love to not hear “Crazy” and feel every word.

I defy anyone who has been in an unfulfilled love affair to not hear “Ring of Fire” and feel every word.

I defy anyone who has felt how our world has changed, and not always for the better, to not hear “Are The Good Times Really Over” and feel every word.

When you heard a Haggard “Prison Song,” you KNEW it was accurate since Merle DID time in State Prison.

Merle was all about family, a song like “Daddy Frank” summed up the love of the family unit.

And “If We Make It Through December” could hit everyone who wants the best for their kids (or in my case, grandkids) at Christmas.

I consider myself VERY lucky to have met Hag, AND to have introduced him from the stage!

It’s the late 90’s, I’m the Morning Guy and Program Director for a Country Music station in Central Indiana.

At the time, there was a music venue known for showcasing up and coming music talent, as well as legends who were no longer on the chart.

One night, I was chosen to bring on Merle Freaking Haggard.

I met him, along with his wife Bonnie Owens (and who used to be married to Buck Owens, yeah, I know my Country), and some members of his band.

Later on, I go on stage as the show starts, introduce myself, uttered a few syllables, then simply said, “Ladies and gentlemen, Merle Haggard.”

A standing ovation before the first note was even played.

I sat in the audience as all of my favorites were played, and many I wasn’t expecting.

So on this sad note, we say goodbye to the Hag.

On the way home, I’ll search for Haggard songs on iheart.com and sing along.

And once I am home, I’ll crack one open in Merle’s honor too.

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Politics Has Hindered Blogging Lately

One thing I have learned since starting this project some time ago, is that unless you are a literary genius, and I am FAR such a person, one can’t just “make shit up to write” and have it come out as “Gold, Jerry, Gold.”

One must be, inspired, one must be in the proper mindset and space, one must write what one knows.

I have a lot of inspiration; as the title suggests the fun, enjoyable wacky things the grand kids do, forty plus years of broadcasting “this shit really happened’ stories, and an endless supply of “Ex Wife From Hell” tales.

An area I truly enjoy writing about, probably more than all above, is something TOPICAL, something NOW, something EVERYONE is talking about.

Here’s the problem.

I have made it a lifetime goal to not “talk” politics.

I am NOT a Republican.

I am NOT a Democrat.

I belong to NO organized political party.

No friends, as stated previously, I am a GDI; a God Dammed Independent.

Since the day I first pulled the lever 40 plus years ago at age 18, I have voted for “the person” not the party.

I have made MORE than my share of mistakes in doing so too.

I’m not sure, but I believe my parents were registered Democrats, and for a reason.

Those were the days of the Albany (NY) Democratic Machine.

For those who weren’t around, from what I have been told, if you weren’t “with them,” it just didn’t get done for you.

My old man was no fool I can tell you that.

And my mom, well she just did whatever Pop told her to do (hold back the freak out responses, this was the 60’s, right or wrong, that’s how things happened)

Me, I don’t care, I’m a rebel; most times I may want to laugh at your beliefs and have fun with you, EVEN if part of me agrees with you about it.

You may care about Issues A/B/ or C, or Topics 1/2/ or 3, and in the majority of cases, I will get smarmy and snarky.

Is it because I think you’re wrong?

Is it because I think I’m right?

No…..

It is because I’m an asshole, and I’m more concerned about a quick laugh, or an occasional giggle.

It’s safe to say even my CLOSEST friends do not know who I am planning on voting for for President.

I choose it that way.

Besides, it’s really none of their fucking business.

The KILLER place to NOT talk politics, I have found, is Facebook.

Good God Almighty!

Generic Example; I make a PERSONAL comment/opinion regarding the current leader of the free world (for the record, out of the two times he ran I voted for him once, I was wrong, BUT I will not tell you WHY I felt I was wrong, or about WHAT time I was wrong, that’s as close as I’ll get).

BTW, I have voted for incumbents, but not always.

BTW, I have voted to continue the work of one party for the next person, but not always.

Anyway, I make one little comment on social media and people think it’s Dallas on November 22, 1963, and I just asked where the nearest grassy knoll is.

PEOPLE, PEOPLE, PEOPLE, do you NOT know me?

I am not a Rhodes Scholar.

I am not a MENSA member.

I’m just some old fart with an opinion, but in the end, the true core of my being, is an individual who just likes to bust balls and make fun of EVERYONE!

I LOVE making fun of Republicans.

I LOVE making fun of Democrats.

I LOVE making fun of Independents

If you consider yourself to be (A) a friend (B) a co worker (C) a business associate (D) a former classmate (E) a former part of my life who is back in my life, (E) a very casual social media “bud”, you should KNOW that I have NOTHING but the utmost respect for everything YOU believe in, whether I agree with it or not.

BUT, if you’re one of the above people, please understand BECAUSE of that respect I have for you, YOU should expect me…being …me.

I live for a joke, I live for a laugh, I live for putting a smile on your face, or a smile on someone else’s face because I just busted your balls, and I live for you busting MY balls back twice as hard.

In the end you’ll fail at doing it, but I still live for that and salute your attempt to try.

(That’s where the snark and smarm come in)

So to take it back to say Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the others, you will see lots of funny insulting shit about the current batch of people running for the Presidency.

I post it cuz there is someone, somewhere, who will giggle.

Once we lose the ability to laugh at ourselves and our beliefs, even for just a moment, then we have failed as a people.

Finally to EVERYONE in EVERY POLITICAL PARTY, I may NOT always (if ever) “like” or “comment” on something you post, either “pro” about your guy or “anti” about the other guy.

Doesn’t mean I agree with you or not.

You’re entitled to your opinion.

Just don’t shove a stick up my ass if I make fun of your guy.

Simply make fun of my guy.

Oh you don’t know who my guy is, do?

Mission Accomplished!

 

 

 

My “New” Family, & A Request

The wonders of the Internet amaze me daily.

Pretty much anything and everything you want, need or desire can be obtained there.

However, I never truly realized that EVERYTHING means family you totally lost track of, OR never knew even EXISTED!

Thus the title above.

As someone who can be considered close enough to a “Senior Citizen” (and my long standing membership in AARP is proof),I’m at a point in my life where I don’t have a lot of family still standing, let alone in my “inner circle.”

Sure, there’s the group of people currently in my life I talk about all the time, spouse, kids, grand kids, a few in laws on my wife’s side of the family, some special people from previous…failed experiments…no…relationships, and a select number of short and long term friends I consider family, but that’s about it.

But at my age and stage of my life, all parental units on MY side of the family are gone (as are my wife’s), my step sister, who I haven’t seen since the early 90’s, I’ve been told has passed, there’s no other siblings, and as a matter of fact, the last time I remember seeing most of my side of the family was IN the early 90’s as well, and it was at a wake…for one of my cousins who passed TOO young..and THAT is part of my tale.

Part of the abandonment issues deal with my career as well, up until we moved back to the Albany, Schenectady, Troy NY area in 2007, a lot of time since I left for Ashland College in the Buckeye State back in 1974, has been in various states, at radio stations up and down the dial.

Great line Mike, that would SO work in a song…

Wait a minute…

But I digress.

So a few months ago, I got a response to one of the blogs you see here (and as long as you’re here, feel free to read previous posts, and if so inclined, “like” them and spread the word, I want to write the next Great American Novel before I assume Room Temperature, and need all the publicity I can get), from a woman who I find to be one of my long lost cousins, who lives right in the area!

The last name is Marchinuke, not Smith or Jones, so I kinda stick out a bit.

After close to 25 years, I reconnect with Cousin Betsy, whose father was MY father’s brother (and also whom I never met, and did I tell you I’m named after?).

We’ve chatted a bit since, and trust me, it felt GREAT to hear from another Marchinuke.

It’s not like I haven’t been looking for any either.

I could go to ancestry.com, but truthfully, I never got around to it, either I was lazy or cheap, or both.

That web site plays into the story too, hang on.

I have tried to Google the name “Marchinuke,” and when I do I either get web sites about ME (I’m Mister Social Media), or sites showing me where to find things like obituaries of “Dead Marchinukes.”

I’m a Punk Band all to myself!

That brings us to a few days ago, when I get a Facebook Message request from someone I didn’t know, but something told me to accept it.

For the time being, the name of the person and certain pertinent information is being withheld, there’s a reason why.

It was from a woman asking me if I knew of a particular woman, also with the last name Marchinuke, including the woman’s married name, and the name of her (now deceased) husband.

I did, it was one of my aunts, my father’s sister, who passed many years ago. They had one daughter, who never married, and who also passed away at a very young age (refer to the wake I wrote of earlier).

The person asking says she is the DAUGHTER of my deceased cousin, who gave up the infant three days after birth to adoption, who just found out the last name that day, and went to ancestry.com for a search, at that point she must have done the Google search I spoke of, and there I was.

In truth, I was a bit cautious, this could be a scam, but considering my bank account, if it was, it wasn’t like they were going to get much…THAT went to a Nigerian Prince.

I messaged Betsy to try to put the pieces together.

There WAS a story that our deceased cousin did indeed have a child, possibly through…unfortunate circumstances…and to avoid scandal gave the child up…that’s how things were back then.

I always thought adoption information was confidential, but not knowing much about it personally I asked around.

From what I learned from a number of good, reliable friends, and from what this person told me, it SEEMED like this COULD  be true.

Then I went to HER Facebook site and saw some of her pictures.

Damn…it JUST could be!

At that point, Betsy and I have a new Second Cousin!

The reason I’m not giving out a name officially or providing more information is that my Second Cousin needs to being some of the members of the family who adopted her up to speed.

Hey guys…I found my birth mother..oh…I have new relatives as well.

This is SO cool.

So now that you have “met” my “new” family, here comes the request.

I’m not holding out any hope but I’m taking the shot.

If you are reading this, if your name is, or was Marchinuke, even if you don’t think we’re related, I want to hear from you.

If you are reading this, and you know, or KNEW, someone whose last name is/was Marchinuke, even if you don’t think we’re related, I want to hear from you.

I am sharing the link to this blog to a number of Facebook Groups and web sites I normally post to.

I need to get the word out.

Frankly, I’m starting to run out of time.

To my knowledge, unless proven otherwise, I am the LAST MALE MARCHINUKE around.

There ain’t no others who have part of me in them, to paraphrase Doctor Leonard McCoy…this man is dead, Jim.

Once I’m gone, so is the Marchinuke line.

Considering what an asshole I can be on occasion, some may say, to paraphrase Willie Nelson…call it a night, the party’s over.

You have as long as I breathe to respond in time.

E-mail me…marchinuke@hotmail.com…

Only time will tell.

Thank you.