That was a question I asked myself on Tuesday afternoon as I picked up the mail.

So, there was an Amazon box in my mailbox and the first thing I thought was that it was addressed to the wrong person – it wasn’t, and I don’t remember ordering anything.  So, WHAT IT IS?!

Feeling like a “kid in a candy shop” I couldn’t wait to open it up.  When I opened it up I got this:

A great set of headphones!  When I looked inside the box there was no message with it, just the headphones.

The first thing that came to my mind was that someone bought it for the network on my Amazon Wish List.  I was right.  This was one of the items that I had put on the wish list for items we need to help make the network sound better.  I was speechless.  Someone out there went out of their way to show their support for the network and I am so thankful for that.

There are times when I do these shows that I feel like no one is listening.  Currently, I do four shows a week and have a blast doing them.  I do them for the love, but would love to be able to make a steady income with them someday.

I don’t push the donate page anymore when doing the shows, but someone out there must enjoy what we do on a weekly basis to have gone and purchased these headphones.  It reminds me that there are people out there that do listen to our shows and enjoy what we produce.

I don’t beg for cash every week (I do talk about doing a sponsorship), but I do ask for people to contact the shows we do.  Love having the 2-way conversations about what we talk about.  So, if you can’t support the shows any other way just talk to us and let your friends know about what we do.  I always love meeting new people through podcasting.

Once again, whoever sent those headphones to us I want to thank you very much and we will get good use out of them.

With Father’s Day almost here, and I, being a father, figured I would tell you a little story about last Father’s Day and how I stretched it out for an entire season.

At the time my 7-year old son lived with his mother and I would pick him up on the weekends and spend time with him.  Of course, on Father’s Day I would get him no matter what because it’s “my day” to spend with him.  (Just like Mother’s Day is his mom’s day with him.)

So I picked him up on the Friday night before Father’s Day and he said he had a card for me at home.  Not a big deal, that happens.  I’ll get it next time.  (I would pick him up from his mother’s and she would pick him up from me, so that’s why I knew I wouldn’t get the card until next time I pick him up.)

So, the next weekend rolls around that I pick him up and we get going.

“Do you have the Father’s Day card?”, I would ask.

“Oops, sorry dad, it’s still at home.”, would be the usual response I would get from him.

Not a big deal.

This routine would go on for weeks and weeks.  There were times where I would talk to him the day before and REMIND him to put the card in his bag.  Do you think that he would do that?  Of course not.

This was my leverage over him.

There would be times when he would say things to me like “you’re the best dad ever.”  Of course, I would be a smarty pants and reply, “really? cause I don’t see a Father’s Day card showing me that.”

Oh, he really didn’t love it, but even those type of reminders didn’t make him make sure to give me the card.

Weeks turned into months and by the time September hit I finally got my Father’s Day card.  Granted it was three months later than normal, but I finally got it out of him.

Oh, and don’t think that just because I got the card I didn’t occasionally remind him about it.  I told him things like “maybe I’ll put your birthday on hold for a few months” too.

This year, I started throwing a few hints for a card for me on Mother’s Day.  Figured I’d give him a month to prepare for it.  Well see if I get one this Sunday.

Ah, the joys of being a father.

The final posting on the “Marriage Trilogy” that I mentioned on Facebook sometime ago.

This one took me a while to write, because it’s about me.

So, what do you give for a ten year wedding anniversary gift?

Answer: divorce papers.

If you’re expecting this to be a story of a horrible divorce with fighting and yelling like something you see on Cops then you’re wrong.  Everything was agreed on ahead of time and I was the one that handed her the papers.  She knew it was coming, we discussed everything.

Like a lot of marriages things don’t go the way you want it to or both of you are going in different directions than when you first were married.  Looking back at the beginning of the marriage things were much different for both of us.

So, she filled out the paperwork on her side and I mailed it in to be processed.  Got it back a week later with a date to appear in court.  Since she signed the default paperwork there was nothing for her to argue about.

Even though I knew that nothing was going to go wrong I was still nervous going into court.  Besides a speeding ticket 20 years earlier, there was no other reason to go to court.

It was a perfect Thursday afternoon and I was suppose to show up at 2:30 for my appearance.  Brought the few pieces of paper that I had submitted to the courthouse with me, just in case.

Being Mr. Punctuality, I made sure that I was 30 minutes earlier.  Drove in circles for 10 minutes on one-way streets trying to find a place to park.  Fortunately, there was a parking garage nearby and I got a great spot near the bottom of the garage.  That’s always a good sign.

Made it up the courtroom and had to wait.  2:30 comes and goes and finally at 3:00 we are allowed in the courtroom.  There were some juvenile hearings earlier that was closed to the public.  Went and sat in this oversized room with several other people who are there for the same reason.

Heart racing and at 3:45 I’m finally called up in front of the judge.  Thankfully, the judge wasn’t intimidating at all.  I felt very at ease in front of him.  He looks at my paperwork and says that there’s a problem that they don’t have a copy signed by her.

I was almost in tears.  Almost done and this is stopping the process.

He asks if I have anything and I give him the 5 pieces of paper I have.  That’s what he needed!  Thank goodness!

The next 10 minutes felt like hours of him asking me basic questions and me answering yes or no to them.  Didn’t want to mess up the answers.  Just wanted it to be over with.

After everything was said and done he said that he was allowing the divorce.  As he read the legal lingo into the record I couldn’t help but to smile.  It was over.  Now just needed to wait for the paperwork in the hallway outside the courtroom.

I was on top of the world.

I got the paperwork in my hand.  It’s official.  I’m divorced.  Such a good feeling too.

The ironic thing about this was that the date of hearing was one day before, what would have been, our ten year anniversary.

So, what did I have to show for ten years?  Two pieces of paper signed by a judge and notarized by the court clerk.  Kind of depressing.

Footnote:

As I got back in my car to head back home the radio was on and the song that was playing was Gotye’s Somebody I Used to Know.

Click here to view the video on YouTube.

Kind of fitting I think.  Now everytime I hear this song it reminds me that I’M FREE!

So, how did I feel afterwards?  Overjoyed obviously, but a little bit of sadness hit me an hour or so later.  It quickly went away and hasn’t returned and, I don’t think  every will.

My parents made it to one of those milestones – 40 years, but it wasn’t anything to write home about.

They made it to the four decade mark, but I don’t remember when they were ever happen in their marriage.

For the longest time, my mother made her bed on the couch in the living room.  She would have a blanket and pillow out there all the time.  When it was time for her to go to bed she would get her pajamas on and turn the tv on and lay there and fall asleep.

I always thought that this was normal, but, of course, it wasn’t.

I don’t remember a time when they were ever really happy.  The only time that it seemed like they were was when we first moved to Burlington, CT out of my grandmother’s (mother’s mom) house.  It seemed like things were fine then, but as the years progressed my mother spent more time sleeping on the couch and they spent less time together.

The happiest they seemed to be was when they didn’t see each other.  My father worked overnights and my mother worked the day time, so when my father got home from work my mother had already left and they spent only a few hours at dinner together.  Can’t get on each other’s nerves when you don’t see each other.

Eventually, they were both working days and would see each other even more, that’s when I noticed it.  My mother was also getting paranoid (thanks to my father’s doings).  My father was ‘interested’ in someone else, before the move.  (I don’t know the details of this, but he was getting attention elsewhere and was enjoying it.)  My mother noticed that we wouldn’t get a lot of mail except on Mondays when we would get more than any other day.  She thought that someone was going through the mailbox.  Of course, it’s hard to prove anything when you’re not home and our mailbox was on the side road of the house so it would be impossible to sit inside the house and stare at it all day to find out.  Another weird thing that would happen would be the hang up calls.  This was before caller ID was even a thought and you couldn’t *69 yet to find the number.  My mother would get these hangup calls about the same time every week.  She thought it was a woman telling my father that she’s thinking of him or telling him something.

Everytime my mother would confront him he would say that she’s crazy.  She was starting to go crazy over this.   The 90s rolled around and they got early retirement and moved to Florida.  Things seems to be fine for a while until the hangup calls happened again.  My mother’s paranoia never went away and my father ensured that  she was freaking out about nothing.

One of the last things that happened was one day my father came home and told my mother that he quit his job.  The reason that he quit his job was that a female co-worker accused him of grabbing her breast.  He must have done it, because if anyone was accused of something they DIDN’T do they would fight it instead of being given the option to leave the company.  This was never mentioned to me from him, but from my mother.  I never brought it up because there was no reason for me to.

Now, I know you’re asking me why they didn’t get divorced by now.  I think that it’s because they are part of that generation where when you get married, you stay married.  They were married in the late 60s and are Baby Boomers so that’s the reason I think.  Maybe, my mother thought that he will change or that she couldn’t cope on her own.  I never did ask her, didn’t want to upset her about it.

My parents were married for 40 years.  The last 3 years they didn’t live in the same house.  They live in the same area, but don’t talk anymore.  I think it’s better that way.

Now when I talk to my father, he’s himself.  The same man I knew when growing up.  My mother is happier now, but it’s hard for her to let go.  She always pokes and prods me with questions about my father.  I don’t know much, and I don’t tell her everything he tells me either.  I don’t want to get in the middle of it.  I wasn’t affected by it growing up and don’t want to be involved now.  I know it’s hard for her to let go when you spend two-thirds of your life with someone.  I’m glad that she’s happier now.  She needs it.

One of the rarest things in the world is being married a long time.  Being married for ten years today is the same as being married 25 years several decades ago.

My grandparents (who knew the secret of longevity) were from that generation where when you got married you stayed married.  This is the story of their 49th wedding anniversary.

As said before, my grandparents were dying since I was born and everyday on this planet was their last.  As their 49th year married was coming up they wanted to have a huge party for it because they KNEW that they weren’t going to make it to their 50th.

They essentially begged my father (their son) and mother (daughter-in-law) to throw them a party for their 49th.  My mother was adamant that she wasn’t going to do it.  It was ridiculous to have a big party a year before the big anniversary.  Since it was my father’s parents he was determined to have the party for them.  My mother agreed to it, but on the terms that there was no 50th thrown by them and that his sister (my aunt) and their side can throw that party.  My father agreed.

So, we had a huge party like it was the last day on Earth.  Presents, cake, all the family coming over to our house.  It was a nice party and my grandparents were happy since they weren’t going to make it the next one.

Nearly 12 months later as the 50th was rolling around they mentioned having a huge party for it.  My mother stuck to her guns and stood up to them.  ”We threw you a party for your 49th because you were worried you wouldn’t see your 50th.”  Needless to say it was the other side of the family that threw the party for the 50th.  This one wasn’t as big and was at my grandparents house this time around.

The funny thing about my grandparents wanting that 49th party was that they lived longer than they expected.  My grandparents were both healthy when they celebrated their 60th anniversary!  (And no, they didn’t beg for a huge 59th anniversary party.  We did do something small every year after the 50th because it’s a major feat to be together that long but nothing on a major scale like the 49th was.)  My grandfather died a few months later from cancer.  (It wasn’t found until after their anniversary, so nothing was hanging over their head.)  My grandmother made it another 5 healthy and happy years to see, what would have been, their 65th anniversary.  She died of natural causes.

Today with people getting divorced before they’ve even made it ten years is truly amazing when people make it 60 years together.  I think that nowadays people should be having a huge party for EVERY year they are married because it could be their last (year together).

You’ve done the deed and you’re not sure that she’s pregnant yet.

She’s missed her period and now she wants to see if you actually performed up to her expectations.

Now is the time to go to the store and get a pregnancy kit.

Now we all have seen what these things are, but might have never gotten near one.  Basically, what a pregnancy kit is is a stick that she pees on.

No, that’s not a typo.  She takes this stick and pees on it and it will tell her whether she’s pregnant or not.

I don’t know how this wizardry works and I don’t want to know.

So she’ll take the stick in the bathroom and do her deed on it.  Then you have to wait.  Waiting is the hardest part here, except for her actually peeing on the stick, but for men, this is the hardest part.

When the time is up you’ll look at the stick to see if the color changes or there is a symbol on it or if the pits of hell have opened up.  So, if it shows that she’s pregnant that doesn’t mean anything.  Why?  Two word: false positive.  I don’t know who came up with this term, but I remember hearing it for the first time after a pee soaked stick event.  I’m guessing that it’s the companies that sell the pregnancy kits trying to con you into going out and dishing another twenty dollars to see if you’re really pregnant.  Personally, I think that you can just sit around and wait to see if she gets bigger.  That’s a tell tale sign.

One more thing you have to remember is to not throw the stick out.  Yes, I said to make sure that you do not throw it out.  For some strange reason woman like to keep the stick as a memory of the first time they knew they were pregnant.  Keep this in mind years later when you find the stick sitting somewhere in a box.  I don’t really understand why they keep the stick around.  The first time your child pees in their pants they’re not going to put it in a strong box for memory sake.

]]> http://www.coreycharette.com/fathers-disaster-guide-are-we-pregnant-yet/feed/ 0 http://www.coreycharette.com/the-secret-to-longevity/ http://www.coreycharette.com/the-secret-to-longevity/#comments Mon, 28 May 2012 13:00:50 +0000 Corey Charette http://www.coreycharette.com/?p=771 There are so many secrets and tricks out there that people think will make you live longer, but I learned to ultimate secret and I can thank my grandparents for this techinique.

To live a long life you need to think you’re going to be dead soon.

My grandparents learned this secret when I was a little kid.  I can remember back in the 1970s when I wasn’t even 6 years old and my grandparents were in their 60s.  Everytime they would leave I would hear the same thing from them.  ”Come and give me a hug and kiss because this might be the last time we see you.”  This wasn’t a gimmick that they used to try to con affection out of me.  This was also said to my parents.

Every week we would visit them and I would get the same “micro speech” from them. Week after week.  Year after year.  I would eventually be a teenager and hear the same thing over and over again.

“Just die already!”

Hearing this thousands of times and they haven’t died yet, why not take a break from saying it for one week.  Are they superstitious to the point where the one time they don’t say it they’ll drop dead the moment we leave?

I know this sounds heartless, but the ‘broken record’ gets old really quick and does get on your nerves.

So, how long did my grandparents live?  My grandfather lived until he was 85 years and my grandmother was around for another 5 years and made it until 90.  That’s pretty impressive for 2 people who were ‘dying’ for over 20 years.

Today, I’m going to talk about one certain person that I’ve seen many times at McDonalds.

This guy is strange on several levels.  He’s a 60ish year old guy with poofy white hair with large rimmed glasses and a worn out red baseball cap on.  He shows up in the afternoon about 4 o’clock with his huge bag in his arm and finds his special spot in the restaurant.  He tries to get a table that’s in the corner with the rounded booth on one side.  This is that one oversized table that can sit 4 people on one side easily.  If that table has someone at it then he tries to sit at a regular booth in the opposite corner with his back to the wall.

When he ‘marks his territory’ he goes and orders his medium soda.  That’s it.  Never anything different.

His experience at McDonalds goes in 2 stages.

The first stage is the ‘reading stage.’  If you’re expecting me to say he pulls out some book to read then you’d be wrong.  If you think it’s a newspaper….wrong again, and no, not a kindle or iPad either.  He pulls out the latest issues of comic books.  They are in the plastic bags with the cardboard backing, so he must collect them.  Usually it’s about a dozen of them he pulls out of his bag.  He sits there and reads each one intently like it’s a Dostoyevsky novel.  Every so often he’ll stop look up and look around then return to his comics.  After each one is read it’s put neatly back in it’s plastic holder and placed back in the large bag.  This process is repeated until all of them have been read.  Then we move on to stage two.

The second stage is the ‘Internet stage.’  After refilling his soda he pulls out his 15 inch laptop and pictures.  He pulls out four 2×3 pictures in plastic holders and puts them in a semi-circle around the laptop.  I’ve glanced over to see what this pictures are and they look like they are cut out of magazines.  Look like old pictures from movies of the 40s and 50s of women.  I don’t know who they are, but the creepiness factor is already there.  Now he surfs the web for the next 2 or 3 hours in his spot with his earbuds in.  From what I’ve seen he’s just surfing the web.  Don’t see him sitting there intently typing into a blog or writing an article or novel.  He’s just surfing websites.

I’ve spoken to one of the managers of the restaurant and she says that he comes in 3 or 4 days a week about the same time and stays around for about 3 to 4 hours.  He sits there and doesn’t bother anyone, but still feels creepy when he’s around, and McDonald’s can enjoy their 50 cents an hour they made from him.

Last week I saw the M*A*S*H series finale “Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen” on TV Land again, and this subject was brought up on the show.  Reminded me that I’m the same way as BJ Hunnicut was on the show.   I never liked saying goodbye.

Goodbye means “that’s it”.  Thanks for everything.  Was nice knowing you.  Have a good life.  You know that when you say it you’re never going to see that person again.

Whenever I leave a job and it’s my last day I try to leave a few minutes early because I don’t want to have that awkward moment at the end.

There was a time some years ago that I was temping and it came down to my last day.  I kept looking at the clock counting down the hours until I had to leave.  I was also planning my escape.  Ten minutes before the end of the day I would get up and head on out.  Just as I was about to duck out one of the co-workers popped on over and started chatting me up about mindless dribble.  She was making sure that I didn’t leave without saying goodbye.  I should have left 15 minutes early, but I was trapped, but I did escape without using the word.

How did I escape?

Really easy, thanks to technology.  We exchanged email addresses.  That ensured that we never officially ended the relationship, but made it easy to leave.

Goodbye is a very powerful word and can hurt when used.  I will try everything to keep it out of any conversations I have.

Why?

Because I am living in the past with standard definition TVs.  If you wanted to get submersed in what you are watching then don’t come over.

I’m happy to say that I don’t have high definition in my house.

You might be asking me why I’m staying with ‘old’ technology.  There are so many different reasons for this.

The most obvious one is that I have old TVs that still work.  I have a 27 inch one in the living room and 25 inch one in the bedroom.  They are each over a decade old and still work great.  No color loss, and sound is just as good today as when taken out of the box.  I’m not going to spend money to buy something newer when they work fine.

With living in the 21st century, I would have to figure out a way to dispose of them.  You can’t just put them on the street corner for the garbage truck to pick up.  And when people do sit then out there, they stay there.  No one picks them up to take home.  I’ve seen some that sit out there for a few weeks and don’t move an inch.

The second reason is that when you upgrade the TV you need to upgrade everything around it.  With a new TV you need to get an HDMI cable to replace the old multi-colored one, and if you are go through the cable company you need to upgrade your cable box.  (Which also means to pay more per month for an HD box!) You want to buy movies at the store?  Might as well buy a Blu-ray player too to get those high-def movies.  Wouldn’t make sense to keep buying DVDs and not get the full experience of the TV.  Also, Blu-rays cost more than DVDs.

Third reason, for me, is that most of the DVDs that I purchase today are standard definition.  The only things I really buy on DVD now are old episodes of Doctor Who. That show did go hi-def until 2008 and the vast majority of the episodes are in low-def.  Would be a waste of my money to buy all that stuff just to get the same experience I’m getting now.

The final reason, is the biggest.  I don’t really watch TV anymore.  For the most part, it’s just a noise maker in the background.  There are a a few shows that “I can’t miss”, but beyond that I don’t care what’s on TV.

I think I’ll just sit here with what I have and enjoy it until it breaks.