The Unemployment Chronicles: Death of a Mustache

For the first time in my adult life I am without a full time occupation.  A number of factors lead me to make a change I am now in the process of finding that next great challenge in my professional life.  It has been roughly 6 weeks since I have been "required" to head off to work every morning as I have for the last 14 years.  I have to tell you - it is a strange feeling.  With 3 young children and a wife who has ramped up her hours as a nurse, I am hardly bored, but I am also finding I am doing some strange things given this new "free time".  Enjoy the first installment of 'The Unemployment Chronicles".

Death of a Mustache
In my career, I have always been required to maintain a neat and polished look for all of the jobs I have held.  Clean shaven, groomed haircut..I actually showered EVERY DAY!  When I realized that I no longer had to do that - at least for a little while - the 'playoff beard' was born! 

After a few days, it looked rugged, dare I say Brett Favre-ish!?!  After a week, I looked like a hobo.  After two weeks, I was scratching like a mangy dog with fleas and I knew it had to go. 

Or did it? 

So, I compromised and shaved that scruff into...wait for it...yes, a magnificent mustache! 

Not sure where you all stand on mustaches, but I (and many of my friends) find them to be one of the most unintentionally funny sights in the world.  I am not even sure why, but they make me laugh. 

With that said, this was going to be my new look and I am going to rock it!

I remember it was a Sunday as I walked outside to share this bad boy with the world!  The first person I encountered was my next door neighbor - who HAS a mustache, full time.  I got the most perplexed look from him.  Did he think I was mocking his beloved "Buffalo cheese"?  Did he think I had lost my mind?  I found myself covering my face with my hand as I quickly tried to get away from him. 

Well, that was awkward, but I am running with this thing and I don't care what others think!

Or do I?

Next, I made a visit to a friend's house.  Upon viewing the new "addition" he burst into outrageous laughter and could not break out the cell phone camera quick enough.  Yes, this picture!

OK, he got a laugh, that's what I expected.  BUT, it will not shake my confidence.  This is the new, retro-cool-unemployed-I -don't-care-what-society-has-to-say Frank.  I will not flinch because of a few snickers.

Or will I?

Next, I was moving onto my favorite aunt's house for a little Sunday afternoon football get together.  I knew I would see several members of the family who would surely embrace this new look I was donning, right?  Um, no.  Questions, laughter and outright concern for my mental welfare was all I got from these so-called-relatives.  Why don't they appreciate the fact that I am making some changes in my life and this mustache is more than just facial hair; it is now part of my moral fiber!  My uncle, who I consider one of the most intelligent men in the world, simply looked at me and calmly stated, "That is the worst mustache in the history of the world,". 

OK, starting to feel a little defeated here. 

Would this mustache live to fight another day? 

Time for the ultimate taste test - the wife.

She had worked that day and had not see me and my new "experiment".  This is my last hope.  If my wife of nearly 10 years could not appreciate the greatness of a fresh mustache on her husband, then no one could.

I walked into the house, up the stairs and unveiled this facial masterpiece.

After a very brief and unenthusiastic chuckle she uttered the final words that mustache would ever hear...

"Shave that stupid thing off right now."

Yes, dear.

Time of death, 6:38PM.  We hardly knew you, buddy...Rest in Peace


Next from The Unemployment Chronicles....'Bloody Mary's and Bubble Baths'

Stay tuned...

Working Class Hero

Micky Ward is about to make us all proud.  By "us", I mean the good people of Lowell, MA and across the region.  If you literally 'live under a rock' then let me quickly explain.  "Irish" Micky Ward is a former world champion boxer.  He is most famous for his 3 epic bouts with Arturo Gatti.  These were fights for the ages and sporting events that spectators will talk about for many, many years.

Micky's story about his tough upbringing and his rise to champion is about to be told in the highly anticipated blockbuster movie titled, The Fighter (which ironically does even include his fights with Gatti).  Mark Wahlberg plays Micky while fellow Hollywood heavyweights Christian Bale and Amy Adams co-star in the film. Word on the street is that "Oscar" is already spying on this one.  Regardless of what the movie ultimately amounts to, this is a tale worth telling and we should all be excited and proud that we are connected to Micky' story first hand.

Which brings me to my point.  I am not a close personal friend to Micky.  I have had the pleasure to hang out with him during a few charitable functions and that is basically the extent of our relationship.  However, I have spent enough time around him to understand what this man is all about.  Despite the overwhelming attention he has received, Micky Ward is a humble, thankful, respectful (oh, and REALLY TOUGH) human being.  He has no ego about him.  No air of arrogance.  Most of all, he has no desire to be famous nor worshipped.  Micky has spent a lifetime just being a hard working 'man of the people'.  It just so happens that he is one of the greatest athletes that ever claimed Lowell as their birthplace and hometown.

Ward is a rare sensation in a time of prima donnas.  With that said, he is about to be launched into the stratosphere of stardom.  With the likes of Mark Wahlberg and others at his side, Micky Ward could become an international superstar.  He could easily find himself in the electric Hollywood scene of the rich and famous and not look back - at least for a while.  However, I am fairly confident he will be far more comfortable in the setting he has always returned to...a gym full of young aspiring boxers or the local pub with old friends.

Just a hunch.

In any case, if you are a from Lowell, soak in the excitement that will surely surround our city in the coming weeks.

Enjoy the office banter when the movie finally comes out next month.

Brag (as needed) about this story because it is a great one.

Oh, and if you ever have the opportunity to meet  Micky in person; shake his hand, congratulate him, and buy him a beer.

He's earned it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Sorry, Was I snoring?: Sleeping at the hospital

Time for some therapeutic writing folks...it has been a s#!^^% week!

This past week my son needed to be hospitalized due to some complications from an endoscopy.  Long story short, he got very ill after the procedure and our doctor instructed us to take him to Mass General.  After several long hours in the leper colony they call the emergency room we learned he had pancreatitus and a few other gastrointestinal complications.  Bottom line, this is a very painful problem and slow process to heal and he needed to be admitted for a about week (yes, I am writing this during my "down time" before I return).


My wife and I have alternated nights staying with him and it got me thinking just how uncomfortable and awkward it is to sleep at a hospital when you are not the patient.


Allow me to relay my take on the non-patient sleepover experience...


First of all...when is "bedtime"?  Most nights I am an early-to-bed-type guy.  9:00-9:30PM, I am usually in bed watching Dancing with the St....er....I mean...the Celtics Game and drift off fast asleep soon thereafter.  But in the hospital, I feel like I need to be some type of hero to impress upon the nurses and staff that I am on top of things.  Even watching TV seems weird.  I admit that I have been caught several times with my feet on the bed watching reruns of Family Guy and Everybody Loves Raymond...and, guess what, I felt stupid. For some reason it seems like the appropriate activity should be reading the History of Medicine by candlelight.  Why?  I don't need to impress these people.  They are being paid to take care of my child and I am simply the tour guide to make sure he doesn't choke on his I.V. chord (which, by the way, can happen a lot easier than one would think...thanks for distracting me Peter Griffin!) while they are out of the room.


Second, what is the dress code?  I am usually a t-shirt and boxers guy (calm down ladies...take a deep breath and remember I am a married man before you start the sexual imagery) but you can't pull that off in the hospital.  Again, I feel like I should be in flannel pajamas, a robe and night cap like Benjamin Freakin Franklin probably wore to bed!  Why?


Third, why is sleeping a bad thing?  I am a very sound sleeper and, admittedly, have had little issue zonking out in the rickety, lumpy pull-out bed.  Nonetheless, I find that I am frequently jumping up throughout the night like I am some wine-o passed out in an ally that needs to get his bearings  before someone finds me.  Sure, the nurses tell you to "get some rest" but they don't mean it.  They want you to stand a post like you are a marine at Guantanamo Bay (Happy 235th Birthday Marine Corp).


Maybe I am paranoid?  Maybe my senses are just dulled after a long week?  Anyway, I gotta get back to fake reading and unwrap this chord from Frankie's neck....


Have a good day, all!