Friday, September 30, 2016

Nurse the Hate: Hate London NFL Games



Once again the NFL has somehow managed to send a terrible game to London.  How is this a good promotional event?  When the NFL sends these games over to London to win over the completely oblivious Brits to suddenly embrace American Football, one would think they would send a good game as opposed to the Colts vs the Jags.  Even America’s most degenerate gamblers get a glazed expression on their face when they think of this game.  This must be some sort of Brexit payback.  I would like to formally apologize to the good people of England for sending this over there.  This is the worst thing we have exported to them since Subway Sandwich Shops. 

The poor Brits…  I can’t imagine being over there showering in my tiny ineffective shower, making a spot of tea, calling a cookie a “biscuit”, walking around in the rain, stopping in at the pub after riding a double-decker bus, having a warm pint, thinking about getting some Indian takeout, talking about the Queen, walking around in the rain some more, and then thinking “I should call my mates in their flat to see if they want to see the Jags play the Colts”.  I would definitely prefer having a sherry with me mum, look at nudie pictures of some birds in the The Sun while riding in The Tube and maybe eating some fish n’ chips instead of gambling on this completely unpredictable road game.  How can one know if the Jags defensive backfield is looking at the game plan or taking selfies at Buckingham Palace?  Is Frank Gore relaxing in his tiny hotel room or is he getting fitted for an overpriced suit in Savile Row?  I’m steering clear of that game though I will probably turn it on in the morning and have a very Brit “lie in” while it washes over me.  Maybe at halftime I will have a proper fry up.  Who bloody knows?

I will tell you this.  I am going to really tempt the fates.  I am taking the Jets this week.  I know what you are thinking.  Greg, you have been very outspoken in NEVER taking the Jets to cover any spread.  The Lord himself spoke to you and told you it was sin.  Even God makes exceptions and this week is one of those exceptions.  Here’s how I see it…  All week long the New York press has been going wild about journeyman QB/Norse War Lord Ryan Fitzpatrick tossing six (6) interceptions last week against the Chiefs, thus dropping into everyone’s mind that he will NEVER have success again.  Meanwhile the Seahawks haven’t exactly been lighting it up and roll into The Big Apple with Russell Wilson’s leg held on with tape and hope.  I don’t know who the fuck that guy was that backs him up, but he really sucked when he got in last week.  The Jets at home with points in an early game?  Yes please.  That Jet team is pretty good and underrated while I think the Seahawks are eroding.  Jets +2.5

I have some definite areas of concern looking at the rest of these games.  Vegas has really got these lines dialed in now.  This is when my early season advantage departs for good.  It’s almost time to hand back my early winnings.  With that caveat out for the record, I am going to cautiously take the Oakland Raiders +3.5 over Baltimore.  This is a gut pick all the way.  I have seen the Ravens play twice this year and they aren’t very impressive.  Yes they are 3-0, but wins against the Buffalo/Browns/Jacksonville isn’t exactly murderers row.  I see the Raiders as one of those teams flirting with sliding into the Playoffs so they can get humiliated in Round One.  To be able to get humiliated in the Playoffs, you have to win these kinds of games.  The fact that the Raiders are getting 3.5 puts it up and over for me.  Oakland +3.5



Season Record: 7-2  

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Nurse the Hate: Time Is Relative



I once cracked a molar, the first incident in what would turn into a “problem tooth”.  It was the first major dental incident I had ever suffered.  I had been playing a show in Pittsburgh when it happened.  I remember being really sweaty holding the mic, leaning into a drunk rambunctious crowd and yelling something at them.  Bobby ripped into a solo and I jumped back while I clenched my jaw hearing a very distinctive “crunch” sound that was entirely new to me.  I wondered what the hell it was and took a second to wash back some cold beer.  When that cold liquid hit that tooth, I knew exactly what was going on.  It was like plugging my lower jaw into a socket.  I did the rest of the set on muscle memory while thinking “I wonder how bad that tooth is…  I wonder how bad it will hurt when this adrenalin and beer wear off…”

This is, of course, a minor injury in the history of rock.  On certain nights, when the moon is just right, Michael from the Cynics will tell the horrifying tale of when he slipped on a Madrid stage and had his legs effectively do a split on the stage edge.  While this alone would have been attention getting, he got up to keep the song going.  The show must go on after all.  He felt a warn wetness growing around his crotch and thought “Holy shit…  I pissed myself!”.  That’s a tall order to be a front man in a packed club singing in the spotlight after you’ve wet yourself.  As I heard tell, he stepped to the side for a second and looked down to discover he was actually bleeding.  It turned out he had ripped his penis hole apart and was bleeding like a geyser.  This proved to be a bit much for him to absorb and the show was over.  I think I would have reacted “poorly” to discover my penis hole ripped apart.  Being Spain, they called an ambulance that didn’t show up.  They then corralled a car to spirit him to a hospital where some surprised Spanish surgeon stitched his penis back together.  Michael spent quite some time in a Madrid hospital room until he was shakily rolled out in a wheelchair weeks later like an elderly Greta Garbo.  This would be a much more major injury than my tooth issue in my opinion.

I wound up going to a dentist that wasn’t my normal guy.  Let me pass along some life lessons that are very valuable.  Things you don’t ever skimp on: wine, cheese, shoes, dental work.  Yet here I was with a new dentist.  I was breaking my normal rule on this, but it was an emergency.  When choosing between a painful fucked up tooth and potential relief OR guaranteed relief 48 hours later, I’m rolling the dice on immediate relief. The dentist was a younger guy, relatively inexperienced.  His assistant was out for the day.  It was just the two of us in a grim little strip plaza.

I sat in the chair and explained the situation as “I cracked that back molar in two and it hurts like hell”.  I opened wide.  He fiddled around in my mouth with a pick directly in the area.  Does this hurt?  HOLY FUCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING?  It hurt.  He decided we should get some Novocaine in there to settle things down.  That seemed reasonable to me.  He shot me up.  We waited and made small talk.  The dentist looked at me oddly after I told him I did it on stage at a punk rock club in Pittsburgh.  I think the dentist was very confused by this.  After 75 years of playing rock music I can tell you that the majority of people think that live music is performed in one of two situations.  These are sports arenas to 20,000 people or at wedding receptions.  The general public has no idea that there is a circuit for almost any small sub-genre of music.  You like Death Metal?  There’s a club that does that.  Funk?  Yes.  Country punk?  Once again, yes.

After waiting for a prescribed amount of time, he began to work on me.  As he started, I could feel it.  Hey, hey, hey…  I can feel that!  Are you sure?  I’ve never been more sure of anything.  The dentist stopped for a second and decided to give me more Novocaine.  We repeated the small talk and waited, this time the talk more strained as if he was blaming me for ineffectively numbing the area.  He resumed working on the tooth.  Hey man!  I can still feel that.  He pulled the drill out and looked at me with slight disdain.  I don’t think so.  I have A LOT of Novocaine in you.  He sort of guilt tripped me into thinking I was being a sissy about it.  OK.  Let’s try it again.  HOLY SHIT!  OH MY GOD!  I definitely wasn’t numb.  He pulled the drill out.

I sat in the chair in the reclined position with the suction tube hissing in my mouth.  He hovered over me in his stool.  He pulled down his surgical mask.  “Let me ask you something… And be honest with me…  How much cocaine are you doing?”  What?  What the fuck are you talking about?  I had never done coke after a friend I trusted on these subjects pulled me aside at a party once and said, “Greg… Let me tell you something…  You are someone that should never even consider cocaine.”.  As this friend of mine knew a few things in this area as well as my personality, I trusted that advice and never even considered it.  Looking back, I think that advice was solid as I would have ended up quickly as a dude with a speedboat, stripper girlfriend and a gold coke spoon necklace.  This would not have lasted long as I would have ended up in a discount motel by the airport smoking crack and planning gas station robberies for more crack.

The dentist did not believe me.  He said, “Look I can’t give you any more Novocaine.  We will either have to wait until whatever in your system is out or we just do it without the painkiller working.”  How long will that drilling take?  “Probably about 20 seconds of me drilling right in the middle of it.”  Gulp.  It was decision time.  Fuck it.  I’m here.  Let’s do it. 


Time is relative.  For example, twenty seconds of making love to a woman you adore in her bedroom with soft classical music, the slight scent of perfume, and the curtain lightly blowing in the summer breeze is much shorter than twenty seconds of a rookie dentist drilling directly into an exposed nerve in a strip plaza on a Sunday afternoon.  That lasted about a year and a half.  It was like a grenade was detonated in my mouth, electric blue pain shooting across every cell in my body in cascading waves.  My hands clenched in the fake leather arm rests making a crunching sound as I gripped harder and harder.  Almost done…  almost done…  OK… There we go…  I walked out of that dentist office like you see people in shock walking out of terrorist bombings.

That same tooth was barking at me a bit today, many years later.  I don't know what I did to anger the Dental Gods, but I will tell you this.  I am going to hope this all settles down without further incident.  I am going to plan some type of getaway as if I can outrun the problem.  Though people say you can't run away from your problems, that's probably not true.  You can for awhile at least.  Maybe not your dental problems though.  I was just thinking of really tempting fate and getting away to Spain.  If so, I'm going to try not to rip my penis open there.  More importantly, no matter what, I am not going to a discount Spanish dentist.   




Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Nurse the Hate: Hate The Email Scam



-----Original Message-----
From: Linda Hoffman
Sent: Tuesday, September 27, 2016 8:38 AM
To: Greg Miller
Subject: Greetings - Linda!

I hope this mail finds you well. This has had to come in a hurry and has left me in a devastating state. I've had to travel to M. D. Anderson (Special Cancer Treatment Center) in Istanbul, Turkey, to see a relative who is critically ill. She's been diagnosed with (Acute Lymphoblastic) leukemia. The doctor has advised that the only way she can survive is by undergoing a BMT (Bone Marrow Transplant). The chemotherapy treatment she had was going fine until last week when the oncologist (doctor) noticed that the disease had relapsed and the only way she can pull through now is by BMT.

Please, I need your help, it is really urgent. Hope to read from you as soon as you get this email.


Thanks,

Linda.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From: Miller, Greg
Sent: 27 September 2016 14:33
To: Linda Hoffman
Subject: RE: Greetings - Linda!

This is obviously very upsetting.  What can I do to help?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From: Linda Hoffman
Sent: Tuesday, September 27, 2016 10:27 AM
To: Miller, Greg
Subject: Re: Greetings - Linda!

Thanks for getting back to me, it really has been chaotic since I got here. As I wrote you earlier, my cousin is critically ill and needs family support. She was diagnosed with (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia) - a type of Blood Cancer in 2009 and has been undergoing treatment. Since she flew here there's been an improvement and luckily she's been listed long ago as a recipient and now we've been able to get someone whose marrow matched hers and has agreed to be the donor. We've been in touch with the Turkish Bone Marrow Registry/NHS Cord Blood Bank here in Istanbul as well.

The cost of the operation is €4,205 eur and all that is needed now to balance for the transplant is €970 eur (can't say how much that is in $). But I can not make direct access to my bank account from here as it is a remote area in suburbs of Turkey besides I'm told it would take days for the transfer to be clarified. Paper work and bureaucracy might hinder this development and I can't risk her life over that. Also, the new sim card I registered for here would take about 36-48hrs to be valid, leaving me with minimal access to only emails at the moment.

As it is, I need any form of financial assistance from you. I really don't know your financial status at the moment, but any funds will be accepted with gratitude and paid back after the surgery. I am still making inquiries on how money can be gotten quickly here but from hearsay I think Western Union seems to be the safest. The doctor says all I need do is cash the money with my ID (Passport), which I carry around here. Do let me know if you could be of any help, I will get the necessary details needed in making that sort of transfer. I'll really appreciate this as it needs to be done at the earliest.


Thanks again,
Linda.

Sent from Outlook

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Miller, Greg
Sent: Tuesday, September 27, 2016 10:44 AM
To: 'Linda Hoffman'
Subject: RE: Greetings - Linda!

That’s a real bear Linda.  The good news is that I hear those Turkish Bone Marrow folks are absolutely top notch.  You know what they say…  If you need to get your bone marrow cleaned out, get your ass to Istanbul.  I think Keith Richards did that after the Exile Tour.

That operation isn’t cheap.  Rest assured, I have the money, but I’m wondering about your cousin.  I don’t want to put a value on human life, but as you recall your cousin really screwed me over on that chinchilla farm deal.  Remember that?  I gave your cousin ten large with the expectations of 20% profits on that scheme, then the next thing I know your cousin is in Las Vegas banging cocktail waitresses two at a time on my dime.

Let’s say your cousin doesn’t get that operation and, shall we say, expires…  Is that really all bad?  Maybe you spin me 5-10K in life insurance settlement money and we are square.  Don’t be offended Linda.  We’re just talking here. 


Let me know what you’re thinking over there.  It will be between us…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: Miller, Greg
Sent: Tuesday, September 27, 2016 2:29 PM
To: 'Linda Hoffman'
Subject: RE: Greetings - Linda!

Linda,

What the heck is going on over there?  You didn’t talk about us taking your cousin out did you?  Did you?  I just want to remind you that you are in this with me TOGETHER.  If I’m going down, I’m taking you with me. 

Why don’t you do me a little favor Linda?  Open up the attachment on your email.  You see that?  That’s right Linda.  It’s my cousin Spider.  I just dropped him off at the airport.  He’s on his way to Istanbul right now to track you down and get the $10,000 you owe us.  You better believe he is like a coonhound on a trail when I point him in the right direction.  His first stop?  The Turkish Bone Marrow Registry.  You hear that Linda?  It’s Spider!  Spider’s comin!

P.S.  If you have just been at the hospital and not had a chance to respond to email yet, please disregard this message.  I will try to call Spider off.  Sorry for the mixup.



Monday, September 26, 2016

Nurse the Hate: Hate the Debate


 
It is incomprehensible to me that a large percentage of the population wants to vote for Donald Trump.  Anyone that has even a passing knowledge of current events and business realized that Trump isn't so much unqualified as he is a con artist of the tallest order.  He is a complete huckster.  He always has been.  Yet almost half of America has had this conversation in their head.  "Hmm... The world sure is complicated and scary.  Maybe we should ask the guy from the Reality TV show what he thinks we should do..."  Trump is a fabulous TV personality.  Then again, so is Dr. Phil but he shouldn’t be leader of the free world either.

The smoke screens of Clinton's email server, Trump University, bullshit charity foundations on both sides, etc. don't really mean anything.  The biggest issue is simple.  Trump doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about and the public doesn't really care.  He tells a segment of the population exactly what they want to hear with no concern about reality.  The real issue of this election is the continued dumbing down of America and the majority of the population not being capable of understanding what the issues are much less how to potentially solve them.  On our new planet of sound bytes and social media acting as news, the truth is inconsequential.  No one can be held accountable for the truth because the truth is debatable.  Trump understands this. 

An Oklahoma Council of Public Affairs poll found 77% of public school students didn’t know who George Washington was.  18% of Americans believe the sun revolves around the Earth.  68% of public school children don’t read proficiently by the time they finish third grade.  Half of 18-24 year olds don’t think it is important to know the locations of countries where important news in being made.  More than 40% of people under the age of 44 did not read a single book last year.  How can this population figure out what to do much less what is actually going on?

Trump completely understands the masses.  A career in national broadcasting will do that for you.  Repeating a falsehood over and over makes it true.  He doesn’t know what he is going to say until he says it.  His debate answers are rambling half truths without any content.  He knows it doesn’t matter as long as it is interesting to watch.  Meanwhile the same people that think dinosaurs and people lived on the planet side by side have to figure out what is fact and what is bullshit.  These people will treat this election is just like a TV show just like The Voice.  This should be something of great concern to everyone else on the planet.  It’s like giving Charlie Sheen a legitimate shot at running the planet.

I’m no fan of Clinton, but Trump is terrifying.   

Nurse the Hate: My LSU Dreams At Risk






I was really concerned to see that LSU football coach Les Miles got fired.  I had all my eggs in that basket.  As you know, I am following my dream of becoming a Division 1 college athlete, and I don't need any new blood mucking that up for me at LSU.  I don't want any new coach with "new ideas" to suddenly decide my roster spot is up for grabs.  I was already considering a dual major of chemistry and dance.



I am dropping this in the mail this morning to make sure we are all on the same page.  I hope everyone down there is reasonable.

------------------------------------------------------------------


September 25, 2016

Austin Thomas
General Manager
LSU Football
LSU Athletics Administration Building
Baton Rouge, LA 70803


Dear Austin,


It came to my attention this morning that Coach Les Miles was fired after that heartbreaking loss to Auburn.  I was a little surprised that no one called me personally considering my existing and future relationship with the LSU Football Family.  Yet, these scenarios can often be crazy and I will choose to overlook this slight.  Everyone is probably very busy getting our beloved LSU Tiger Football program back on track.


As you probably know, Coach Miles and I had reached what I believed to be a basic understanding that once I clear up my NCAA eligibility status I would join the team with the intention of being the featured punt returner starting in the 2017 season.  Frankly, I wish I could get on the field and contribute now. It’s frustrating watching the guys lose a close one like last Saturday.  I think my blend of “change of pace” speed and field savvy is just what we need to charge up the offense. 


I don’t know to what depth Coach Miles discussed my future role with the squad.  Just so it isn’t a surprise later, I wanted to make it clear that I am a middle aged man with limited football experience.  I graduated from Kent State in 1988, but did not play on the team during my time there, thus retaining my varsity and Heisman eligibility.  My last punt return in uniform was I believe in 1981.  That really shouldn’t be an issue though.  I have been training up to four (4) days a week for at least one (1) hour per session, and at this point have almost fully recovered from a torn meniscus in my right knee.  Don’t worry.  I don’t feel the injury has impacted my “explosiveness”.  I am right now at this moment as good as I have ever been at returning punts.


I was sorry to see Coach Miles go, but please rest assured my loyalties are first and foremost with the LSU Tigers as a whole.  I committed to LSU and I am a man that honors my commitments.  Let the guys in the locker room know I will still be going to battle with them next season.  I look forward to getting down there and putting the work in.  Let’s win a National Championship together next season.


Geaux Tigers,


 


Greg Miller


P.S.  Let the guys know I’m thinking about just buying a house down there instead of renting so I would be open to taking on a couple of roommates.  I want the full college experience.  Maybe someone could put a note on the bulletin board or something.   

Friday, September 23, 2016

Nurse the Hate: The Big Winner Week 3







A friend of mine is in Las Vegas this weekend.  The last time she was out there she couldn’t lose.  I think she lit up the NFL for six of six winners.  She won so much money that she had an entire tasting menu prepared at La Cirque and then tossed it into the fake lake at the Bellagio just because she could.  She filled her hotel suite toilets with Cristal just so she could ironically urinate all the Bud Light she drank at the sports book into them.  She didn’t purchase a Pete Rose autograph at The Hit King’s sad little table in the Forum Shops.  She actually purchased Pete Rose, who she then forced to mow her grass and perform various menial tasks around her home until he finally escaped and got back to Las Vegas shivering in the back of a refrigerated semi-truck.    


My thought is that I should “counter select” on all of her wagers this weekend as I feel very strongly she will regress to the mean.  Whenever the NFL provides six winners, it can be counted on that the Gods of Fortune will provide a swift “correction”.  I suspect that by 2:30pm PST Sunday she will be offering up handjobs to sailors outside the Gold Spike just to gather up enough money for a 99 cent foot long hot dog.  Fate is a cruel mistress.  One moment you are riding high and the next you’re checking coin return slots in gas stations for a chance to “get back in the action”.  The problem is I probably have no chance of reaching her as she is swaggering around the Hard Rock pool all drunk up promising "sure winners" having no idea of the staggering swift reversal of fortune coming her way in a day and a half.  


Sometimes you find yourself in a deep dark valley.  A thick black cloud has settled down on you like a shroud of doom.  There is no light.  Everyone has turned on you.  There is little reason to keep on with the grim toil.  Each day you struggle to get out of bed, sure that the day will be filled with more bitter disappointment.  Your dreams have disappeared like smoke.  You wonder how you can put one foot in front of the other.  Then you see it.  A tiny little flickering beacon of hope.  Tampa -6.  Praise Jesus. 


The Rams have yet to score a touchdown.  They lost 28-0 to the 49ers, a team that is universally regarded somewhere in the grey area between “Godawful” and “shit show”.  Now they go on the road to play Tampa in the Bucs first home game.  Tampa got smoked last week by an elite Arizona team.  The Public will remember that game as well as the Rams somehow beating an overrated Seattle team in their first home game in LA 9-3.  This is a game I think the books are begging the public to take the points.  This is why I am swiftly going the other way.  Tampa doesn’t need to score 31 points.  They just need a touchdown more than a Ram team that can’t do dick on offense.  Tampa -6.


Speaking of Arizona, they will be trumpeted as The Best Team of All Time in all the pre-game shows this week.   “They beat Tampa 41-7!  They may never lose again!”  This week they have to travel from Phoenix to Buffalo for an early game.  Buffalo coach Rex Ryan has his back against the wall.  He fired his offensive coordinator in the hopes no one would notice how badly his brother sucks at his job.  This fucking guy really needs a win.  He can’t coach worth shit, but his players seem to love him.  I think that alone prevents an Arizona cover.  Buffalo, despite looking very Buffalo yet again in 2016, usually plays well at home.  I can totally see them losing on a heartbreaking late field goal as the Ryan Brothers chug off the field afterwards with clenched jaws.  Doesn’t cover though.  I hate to give more than a field goal at home, much less to a team that is traveling to an early time zone for a 1p kickoff.  Buffalo +4.5


I have a few opinions.  One should never skimp on toilet paper, cheese, or shoes.  Mick Jagger is a better life coach than Tony Robbins.  There's something to the idea that one of the greatest regrets in life is being what others want you to be rather than being yourself.  Most importantly, all the teams in the NFC East are essentially equally good/bad.  There is no reason not to think that Dallas/NY/Philly/Washington couldn’t beat/lose to Dallas/NY/Philly/Washington on any given Sunday.  Take the Giants v Washington game this week.  Eli could either throw six touchdowns or six interceptions.  Who the hell knows?  However, with Washington you’ll get 4.5 points and that at least provides some sort of edge.  Washington +4.5


 

Season Record:  5-1        

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Nurse the Hate: Hate Rest




I was speaking with a woman today that is convinced that the source of most of my ills are primarily based on the idea that I am not "resting" enough.  She is quite smug about it actually.  Meanwhile I am quite convinced I spend too much time unproductively and need to press to get even more accomplished.  It’s a bit of a stalemate between us actually.  I think her position is based on the idea of happiness is doing nothing, sort of lounging around like a well fed house cat.  Meanwhile I like to do things so I can have a brief moment of happiness in what I have accomplished.  Then it is time to move ahead once again.  If you are not moving ahead, you are falling behind, no?    


My friend Oliver is a big proponent on the “very tight schedule” concept.  Oliver is German, so this is not surprising.  I can’t ever recall Oliver not having a “very tight schedule”, even while relaxing.  (Say with German accent)  “We will stop for a beer and relax for a moment.”  (checking watch)  “But we will have to leave soon!  We are on a very tight schedule!”  This is the sort of Germanic style of relaxation I have really come to enjoy.  If there is time to enjoy three activities on vacation, the key is to plan four in that time span and somehow get them all done while being stressed out trying to cram them in.  The idea of “fun” is irrelevant next to the responsibility of maximizing your time.  I remember asking Oliver, “Would you ever take a few days at a beach resort and just relax in the sand?”.  He decisively provided the most German answer one could ever hope for…  “Impossible.”  He shook his head after thinking about it again.  “That would be impossible.  It makes NO SENSE.”


I explained this Germanic idea to the woman, mostly to provide a contrast in myself while passively aggressively suggesting that Oliver is the one with a problem, not me.  This only served to reinforce her position that I am going to burn out like a comet .  Furthermore, to have a sick person like Oliver in my life is like Dee Dee Ramone having Johnny Thunders as an enabler.  “You need to take a few days off and re-charge!”  Of course I said it was “impossible” until an idea flashed into my mind.  I very quickly began to scheme an impossible travel scenario involving border crossings with frayed documents, red eye flights, poorly planned accommodations, and almost no prior research done beforehand.  It would be one of my patented "show up and see what happens" ideas that is guaranteed to at least be memorable.  It was probably the exact opposite of what this woman would have suggested as "rest".  I decided to keep this to myself while she explained the travel scenario she thought I needed, which oddly enough would seem to mirror her dream travel scenario instead of mine.  Eh, what are you going to do?


I climbed in my car and relaxed by blasting some Zeke at a volume that threatened to loosen my dental work.  I pulled into the driveway and that same little girl with the missing teeth rolled over unsteadily on her Rollerblades.  "Why do you listen to music so loud?"  I like it.  "Why?"  I like to feel it rip through my skull.  "Oh..."  She scrunched up her face and very dramatically looked up at the sky.  "Do you know what?"  What?  "Wishes don't come true."  Really?  "Yes.  Do you know how I know that?"  No.  Why don't you tell me.  She responded in one breathless sentence.  "Before I was going to school for the first day and they told us what teacher we had I went to bed every night and wished and wished and wished for Mrs. Simmons but then when I went to the school I didn't get Mrs. Simmons."  Who did you get?  "Mrs. Colbert" she said with a dramatic frown.  She looked back up to me.  "Now I know wishes don't come true."  I stared at her for a second, sort of disarmed by the brutal honesty of her statement.  She stared back before I answered.  "It took me a long time to figure that out kid.  You want this soccer ball I found at the park?"  OK!  She lit up and skated home unsteadily with the soccer ball.  I went inside.  

I didn't "rest".  I typed this.