"The folly of men…"-Blue Oyster Cult

Let me start by saying, "Yesterday sucked."

Thank you. Thanks for coming; have a nice day.

Ok, wait, I've roped you in, there's no need in letting you go that easily. Tell you what, if your yesterday sucked, crush your monitor! Well wait. Uhm first off, if you're rushing for your lizard tank stop if you can hear me. Please stop? Simon Says, "Stop?" Oooh. Sheep man: 1, captive nature: 0.

Sorry bout that little guy. Just another victim to man's rampant crimes against reptiles. A bunch of tailless lizards know how you feel. Ok, well death-no tail, not the same. Still, they hurt. It's how the dinosaurs died off you know. Yeah, we ate them. We found out they tasted like chicken and had more meat. Thus ended the Great Lizard era. Look it up. Fred Flintstone will yabba-dabba tell ya. Dinos were really good cooked in boiling tar with mutton in their mouth. Cave women made great dinosaur. Check your cave art. Fat cave dudes pulling away from etched tables of good eats.

It's also why the Godzilla movies were so unbelievable. Nobody in the movies ever looked at his crushing foot and yelled, "Bet that tastes good!" Maybe they did, but not in the English dub. I guess the Japanese conversations could have been more real:

"General! Godzilla is here!"

"Quick, Call Sally Struthers. Tell her, 'problem solved.'"

The reason Godzilla never landed on the California shore line? He didn't want to be chewed up and spit out by the system.

So I know what you're thinking right now. "What does Sally Struthers have to do with your divorce, Rob?" She doesn't. She doesn't even have anything to do with why my day that sucked. That was my bosses fault.

Yeah, we're not getting along again. His idea of a helpful email is, "You suck and you don't care about your job. Love, Dan" My idea of a devoted employee reply is "A team is only as good as their leader." After that it becomes cruise missiles of diversion. Neither of us aims at the real problem: we don't respect each other. Beyond that it gets worse. As readers you know me. You've read my blogs. You know that I have no idea when to shut up. I'm the Energizer bunny of verbage. I keep going and going, and all the firepower in the world isn't stopping this monster.

So our emails progress until we're one step away from a slap fight or a nuclear war. From where I sit, it's hard to tell the difference until the first blast comes. Then it's quite obvious. Then it's too late.

Now I know the score: even if I win, I lose. So now I've got to take a breath, and swallow my pride, dignity and sense of reason, and write an apology. It's like watching the Mission Impossible films--twice: when you're done you just feel dirty and used. It's Godzilla not moving to Los Angeles time all over again.

"Let me see you stripped down to the scales."

Even worse, I swear it's just like my marriage. Nobody says the things that need to be said. And now that it's come to this point, it doesn't matter. This forces me to ask another question about my marriage: Was it really me?

Aww crap! I don't want to ask that!

Thanks Dan for bringing my marriage into this! This email apology is so going to be the worst ever.

So I push the thought aside cuz it's bigger than an elephant in the room. It's a monster. I concentrate on Godzilla. What would Godzilla do? If he came to California, would he eat the Japanese food or would he prefer Mexican? It's a long way to come for just sushi.

I know, I've already said he'd never come to LA. Speaking of which, I was at my writers' group last night and I thought I saw somebody from my past. No, not Godzilla. Just a girl I knew. It wasn't her, but I hate seeing ghosts. They leave me feeling creepy.

Speaking of creepy, I think I crossed the creepy line. I'm standing at the counter trying to figure out what I wanted. I'm in a coffee shop and I can't decide between "coffee" and "coffee." How absurd is that? I know, absurd, but still not creepy. That's coming, you can hear the rumble of big feet. There was a cute young girl waiting behind me, and it just made no sense to make her wait for the second coming of my first clear thought today.

"Do you know what you want?" I ask.

"Uh…yeah."

"Oh, then go ahead, I'm still trying to figure it out."

She looks at the one item menu board and then back to me, nods "yup crazy" and steps up.

"I'll have a coffee, please."

I wish I could tell you I dissuaded her, and converted her to the faith of Rob, but that's more Godzilla fiction. The problem is that I'm still wrapped in wrought thought about my wife/boss and his inability to see the value of our relationship. Oh, and now I'm starting to think this girl looks familiar. That's another problem.

So now I'm staring at the young girl, who is a good 5 years younger than the girl she reminds me of, but I'm convinced it couldn't be her. Ever seen a blind man stare? It's kind of creepy.

Let me put you in the picture. You're at home, you've grabbed a glass of wine, you're sitting down to relax. It's a beautiful night: mid 70's barely any humidity and a slight breeze. You decide to enjoy it all from the front porch. Grabbing glass and bottle, you wander out kick back in the wicker chair, and prop your feet up on the table.

Inhale. "ahhh…" Right? Great.

The wine's a good Sauvignon Blanc, crisp and light, the night is clear and starry. There's a brush just at your shoulder. You whip back to see what touched you and bump noses with Marty Feldman.

Crash!

"AAAAAH!"

Yeah, I figure that's how this girl felt, cuz I'm staring, she whips around with her coffee, sees me with coffee lid eyeballs, and speeds out without stopping for sugar or cream.

"Miss, Your change!"

"Keep it!"

"But you paid with a hundred!"

Gone.

I inspire that in people. Me and Pepe LePew. I'm ok, at least there was a good reason this time. Well, for her running, for me staring, not so much. I don't know. I'm trying to make the most of things, and sometimes I make it worse.

I think it's how Godzilla felt when he crushed his first train. The train was so slick and beautiful, he didn't mean to ruin it, but there were all these tasty Raisinets inside. It was a bad day, he did what he had to do. For me, add that to the picture of the burning Tokyo of my work life and the whole island looks like it's in flames to this raging reptile.

Sure All Godzilla has to do is return to Monster Island for a break, but when your standing in the fire with a maw of fuzzy sheep, spitting wool, and all your world smells like burning chicken. It's hard to walk away. Still it's what we need to do. We learn to walk away from the fights we can, and try not to scare away too many natives. I'm not good at that yet, but I'm trying.