Sunday, March 29, 2009

You are who you say you are, a superstar...

Did you know I was famous? Do you still not believe it? Well, being that on April 2 of this year, I celebrate an anniversary of sorts. It is a personal holiday, a.k.a. my birthday. You know you wanna eat some cake and ice cream now as soon as I blow out my candles. Then I can open up all the nice presents you did or did not get me. Well, I will enjoy the day no matter what. Another year of surviving and not thriving. Thank you for sticking it out with me. I'm greatful to know all of you. I look forward to giving you grief this time next year, you rapscallions!

- John "the family history consultant" Long

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Missed-her (Mr.) March

Picture: to the left
Story: pay attention

The timeframe for this is the beginning of August 1997. I am standing out in the front yard of my friend's house and going home for the night. His name is Kevin Weeks. He was a Tempe motor cop. He died 9-28-06 after a bad accident. I hung out with him that night and we just were being goofy guys. In the snapshot my nose is kinda red. This is from blowing it too much (the friction from all the tissues I used making a rash). The previous Sunday
was my farewell talk (leaving on the mission). Kevin was there with my other friend Jeff (who is also a cop-in PHX). When I got home from my mission two years later, I went to his police academy graduation shortly thereafter (since he went to my farewell, ya see). We wrote some letters back and forth while I was away. He and the other fellas had some crazy times while I was gone. The photo looks kinda funny because I put it in Paint first and then took it to Word. The Abercrombie & Fitch shirt waited in the closet for me to finish my mission. It was my only green shirt for a long time. I miss Kevin, even though we weren't that close when he passed. His letters still induce a few chuckles and grins. The irony is the amount of tissues I used when I gave my farewell talk was quite a few; the scenario was the same for when I went to his "policeman's" funeral. And that concludes my tale for now...