Seeing as how tomorrow is Thanksgiving and all...

So, for the two people that may ever read this...Happy Thanksgiving. Someday, I will write about what a horse shit person my sister is, and I still plan on writing about the physical perfection that is Natalie Portman, but tonight, it's what I am thankful for.

I am thankful for my life. 'Tis a simple one, very (very) non-frickin-what's-the-word...? UN complicated. That is it. Uncomplicated. I go to a job that I enjoy enough to have stayed there for 15 years, I am fucking Yoda at what I do, there are few as good as I, and those that are, are a hell of a lot older. I live in a simple apartment, I drive a simple car, have no real problems to speak of, life is more or less wonderful.

I am thankful for my wife. As big a pain in the ass as she may be sometimes, (and she is) as stubborn as she is (and she totally fucking is), she loves me for what I am. Better or worse (I tend to think it's mostly worse), but she loves me. There are few women in the world who can deal with having a 34 year old child as a husband. She does it with flying colors.

I am thankful for the life of my dearest friend Della. She came close to losing it (and me) this year. I thought so long and hard about what I was going to say to her. I was upset, and God Damn it, I was going to tell her. The opportunity never arose, I saw her tonight, and was so happy to see her, that everything I was going to tell her 6 months ago, didn't matter at all.

I am thankful for music. Whether you are rocking out, cleaning, drinking, sleeping, making the bed, making dinner, making sweet, sweet love, driving, writing, brushing your teeth, working, whatever, music usually makes it better. Saturday night, I got the opportunity to see one of my favorite albums of all time, performed live in it's entirety. DOOLITTLE, by the Pixies. To say it was anything short of brilliant, would be an understatement.

I am thankful that whatever being created this universe gave me patience. I have to use it daily, either dealing with the fucking halfwits that I put up with on a day to day basis, putting up with my wife's stubborn side (which is a LOT larger than her not stubborn side). The nearly unending well of patience I have been given has helped me more than I can express.

I am thankful for Star Wars. Period.


I am thankful for the internet. Be it for porn, communication, music, whatever, I am grateful.


I am thankful for you, non existant reader...

Peace.

WCM

My friend Della.

So,

I had an I.M. chat on facebook tonight with my friend Della. Now, that isn't her real name, it's been changed, as this is anonymous. So, I've known Della since she was 16. She is now 31, so I've known her half her life. She is my best friend, I love her like she's my sister. More than I love either of my actual sisters. She knows me better than anyone on the planet. Better than my own wife knows me, even. She is the only one in the world that knows my deepest, darkest secret.

In High School, she was a state champion soccer player, in college, she was Division 1. She went to a private university, on a soccer scholarship. She was a good student, and she is now a nurse.

She's always had an issue with addiction, be it alcohol, sex, whatever. In High School and college, it was drinking, it also got to be about sex. She has always been a very physical person. She craves constant physical contact. Once she got out into the real world, she got a job working at a hospital, and met Dave. Now, Dave was a helluva nice guy, but apparently he was a drug addict. He was addicted to prescription medications. He got Della addicted to pain meds and they ended up having a daughter. Allie. Allie is going to be 4 in November and I love her like she was mine. She was born prematurely and had a very slim chance of survival. Dave was drugging Della while she was in labor. After that, Della spent some time in a mental hospital, had a breakdown, and recovered from her husband induced drug addiction.

So, about a year ago, she started seeing a guy who I will call, Dick. Let's talk about Dick.
Dick is a felon. He was accused of sodomizing a dog, but the charges got dropped. That isn't the reason he is a felon, but it gives you a look into his character. His dog fucking story was in the national media a few years ago. He is also a heroin addict/dealer. I should mention he is also the biggest douche I have ever known. I met the guy, and within a week of meeting him, didn't like him and I like everybody. He is just that douchy. The first time I met the guy, he literally changed clothes every twenty minutes just because he likes clothes. He's that douchy. He has no job, no drivers license, he's 32 and lived at home until he and Della hooked up. Then he just moved in with her. Her parents dislike him so much they gave her an ultimatum, Him or Us. And she is very close with her family. Della knows that he is bad news. She knows he has a short fuse. They'd "broken up" a couple of times. Then finally around the third week of September, he went nuts, and beat the shit out of her. At 2 A.M. the police were at her house taking him in to custody, the locksmith was there, changing locks, and her parents took her to their house. And kept her there. They put her in a 3 week forced detox. She was strung out when they picked her up from her house. Heroin. Thanks to Dick, she was addicted to heroin. Now I realize that it isn't ENTIRELY Dick's fault. It is her fault too. But, if I may, what kind of a fucking asshole brings heroin into a house with a 3 year old? That's not only directed at Dick, but Della too.

After her 3 week lockdown Detox at her parents house (I mean LOCKDOWN, they wouldn't even let her go out with me, for coffee, and they trust me completely) they sent her to a rehab facility in Minnesota that is (I think) an offshoot of the Betty Ford Center. She was there for 30 days. No contact at all. She was able to call her parents and Allie twice, maybe three times. She was pissed at her parents for sending her there, and was defiant, but somewhere deep down, she knew she needed to be there. Now AFTER she spent the 30 days in Minnesota, she came back home, and they put her in another facility for professionals with drug addictions (I guess a lot of doctors and nurses get hooked on shit). She is there for 8 to 10 weeks. But this one, she at least gets the opportunity to use the internet. Hence the facebook chat. This is that conversation (names changed)

hey Buddy

7:11pmDella

hi sweetie

7:11pmWheatCropMan

how are you

7:13pmDella

well...this treatment center is hard

It is in your face treatment...

7:14pmWheatCropMan

How are you feeling?

7:14pmDella

sad

i would love a sunday night with you

7:15pmWheatCropMan

Soon enough, soon enough.

7:15pmDella

it will be like 2 months!

7:16pmWheatCropMan

I know, but if it is 2 months you need...

7:16pmDella

i don't know what i need anymore

7:17pmWheatCropMan

That is too bad. I wish I could help you.

7:18pmDella

you do help me by always being my friend...thank u

7:19pmWheatCropMan

That's what I am here for : )

7:19pmDella

i'm in the fight of my life though WheatCropMan...it i don't turn myself around i'm not going to make it

7:20pmWheatCropMan

I know. I'm worried for you, and Allie.

7:21pmDella

i understand if you don't want to be friends with me anymore

7:21pmWheatCropMan

It wouldn't happen. You are my best friend. I love you. That'll never change.

7:22pmDella

thank u...you have no idea what you mean to me. i love you too

7:24pmWheatCropMan

You don't need to thank me. Just keep trying to put up a fight. Love yourself. That's how you can thank me.

7:25pmWheatCropMan

I miss Sunday nights...: (

7:28pmDella

i miss them too...i love you WheatCropMan...i have to go to a meeting....c u soon

7:28pmWheatCropMan

So that is the conversation. On Sunday nights, (in case you were wondering) I would go over to her house and we'd drink some beers and just hang out. She'd give Allie a bath, Allie and I would have squirt gun fights, she'd put Allie to bed, and her and I would just sit on the couch and talk. Usually, she would vent, and I would listen. That is my job.

Della-I miss you, I love you unconditionally, and hope you get the help you need.

The Cure, not Natalie Portman

So, I was watching a movie last night called Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium with Dustin Hoffman, whats-his-face, and most importantly, Natalie Portman. Every time I see her in something (and I know if anyone ever reads this, they may disagree with me) I am stunned at her beauty. Just fucking gobsmacked, speechless. So I was planning on writing on her tonight, but at the last second (literally 50 seconds ago) changed my mind to writing about The Cure, not Natalie Portman.

The year was 1987, I was visiting my older sister, who lived in the suburbs of a midwestern metropolis. I was 12. My older brother, had just gone A.W.O.L. from the U.S. Army, and the first stop was his old stomping ground. (My parents and I had moved to a suburb of a different midwestern metropolis, some 500 plus miles away.) So, one hot summer day, my brother and I get in his Renault Alliance, and he pops a tape into the cassette deck. That tape was Standing On A Beach. A singles collection by the Cure, covering the past 9 years, and 7 albums. The song that really made my 12 year old ears perk up was a tune called "Boys Don't Cry".

Up until this point, my taste in music was pretty much whatever was being played on Top 40 radio. Let's see, that would have been...Madonna, Huey Lewis and the News, Michael Jackson, Debbie Gibson had just come out, as had Tiffany, Glass Tiger...you get the idea. BUT (and this is a big but) when my siblings were still living at home, I was fed a steady musical diet of the Ramones, David Bowie, and Cheap Trick from my siblings, and the Guess Who, Creedence Clearwater Revival, and Elvis from my mother. My Dad's taste in music, well, that isn't necessary to bring up at this point in time. Let's just say he liked both kinds of music, Country AND Western.

So, back to that day in my brother's car. Boys Don't Cry was playing and it was one of those things that I wanted to hear again and again...I never wanted that song to end.

Fast forward to the fall of '87. I am back at home in my little suburb with my parents, my brother had moved in with us after a few weeks at Leavenworth Prison for going A.W.O.L., the Army discharged him. So, I now have access to his Cure tape, which I listen to while doing dishes. I listen to the first 3 (sometimes 4) songs on side 1. Killing An Arab, Boys Don't Cry, Jumping Someone Else's Train, (and when I didn't stop and rewind it) A Forest. I knew exactly 4 songs by the Cure, and I felt this made me an expert. Seventh Grade came around, and I would wear my brother's Cure T-Shirt (coincedentally, a "Boys Don't Cry shirt). One day at lunch, a kid named Jason, notices my shirt and starts talking to me about the Cure. Now this kid was really into punk and college music. Keep in mind dear reader, the term "Alternative" (which I abhor) as refered to music had not been invented yet, but there was "college radio". None of which I listened to. I was totally content in my little musical world listening to my 4 Cure songs. This Jason kid and I became fast friends based on my in depth knowledge of 4 Cure songs. My brother brought home 2 Cure home videos. Staring At The Sea (the video version of Standing On A Beach) and a live concert video called "The Cure In Orange". I was only interested in watching the "Boys Don't Cry" segments of both of these.

Fast forward again, to the 1989 MTV Video Music Awards. My musical world would be rocked again. I heard Just Like Heaven for the first time. The world cracked open. Debbie Gibson was being eclipsed by a much larger body in my musical universe.

Six months later, I am living one suburb over from where I lived in elementary school, where I grew up. Back by my sister. I make one great friend in High School, immediately after I start there. His taste in music is complete horse shit considering he is a freshman in high school, and it is 1990. His musical LOVES are Air Supply, Hall And Oates, and The Beach Boys. I meet this kid and we start talking about music and I am thinking "WTF, who listens to THAT?!?"

The summer between freshman and sophomore year, my liking of the Cure grows into an obsession. I buy everything I can find of theirs. CD's, posters (this was a big one) vinyl, European rarities, buttons, T shirts, whatever. I spend the years 1991-1993 on a nearly ONLY CURE diet. Occasionally listening to R.E.M., the Pixies, the Ramones, the Go-Go's, They Might Be Giants. But it was mostly the Cure.
By Senior year ('92-'93), I ate, breathed, shit, slept, the Cure. I senior year I would wear one of probably 15 Cure t-shirts each day under either a (Robert Smith) trademark black cardigan, or black blazer. I had (I shit you not) 30 Cure posters hanging in my bedroom, on the ceiling, etc. I had their entire catalog up to that point, books, whatever I could find. My junior year I went to school on Halloween dressed as Robert Smith (the lead singer, BTW) AND trick-or-treated as him. My Senior thesis paper...yes my THESIS paper, was basically a 25 page report on the Cure. And somehow I managed to score an A. There was no fucking thesis, hell there was no research involved. I totally bullshitted my way through it, and got my fat A.

So, after high school, I finally started to get into some other music. A friend turned me on to Sarah McLachlan and Tori Amos. I picked up on Belly, Liz Phair, Counting Crows, and Nine Inch Nails on my own. I was broadening my horizons. "Alternative" *shudder* radio was helping. But the Cure was still there.

1996 saw the release of the Cure's Wild Mood Swings album. At first, I LOVED it, but the more I listened to it...it didn't appeal to me. What the hell was happening to me? What was wrong? It was the Cure. I was supposed to love it. Fuck...I was outgrowing the Cure. The band that got me an A in my College Prep Comp class, was getting outgrown. I had figured out that the Cure was my Winnie-The-Pooh. I had grown up. A few years later, they released an album called Bloodflowers, I bought it, listened to half of it, and left it at my sister's. She could have it.

When my oldest niece had graduated from high school, (the same one I went to) I wanted to give her a gift with some meaning, not just cash, which I knew would get blown. I lovingly wrapped all of my rare Cure vinyl in a box. Wrote a letter telling her how proud I was of her, and how the passing of my Cure records to her was symbolic. One generation to the next. I didn't even want to be there when she opened it. I had outgrown the Cure, but get very attached emotionally to things and had a hard time giving the records up. I know they are loved.

Now, I am in my thirties, married and can barely stand to listen to the Cure. I have purchased a couple of Cure tribute albums over the years, and can still appreciate their music...I just can't listen to the Cure themselves anymore. And someone may say that because I am older, my taste in music may have changed...yes, it has but only to a certain extent. I am much broader in what I listen to, but at the same time, consider myself a music snob. I look down on people who are content with whatever kind of horseshit Beyonce, Nickelback is on the radio. Because I KNOW that even the crappiest music I listen to is better than that. The Cure taught me to appreciate interesting, well written, music, not to be content with the crap that is usually popular. For that, I thank them. Every now and again, I will listen to Boys Don't Cry, and it takes my back to 1987, sitting in my brother's car...

I have to have a title for ALL of these!?!

So, here it is, another day at Wheat Crop Headquarters, my wife bought me a copy of the new Dan Brown book THE LOST SYMBOL. Now, I am a sucker for conspiracy theories, and I'm sure this book will prove to be a great read. But, I know that it is going to be made into yet another shitty movie with Tom Hanks. Terrific actor, knew not to go full retard. But THE DaVINCI CODE movie and it's sequel ANGELS AND DEMONS, both sucked gigantic balls. It's not a debate. It is fact. Balls. Gigantic. Sucked.

I heard that the President called Kanye West a Jackass for what he did to that hot Taylor Swift chick at the VMA's. And yes here we go, a rant about MTV. First off, where the fuck do they get off calling themselves MTV anymore? The channel has absolutely nothing to do with music anymore. All it manages to do is breed celebu-whores, and completely talentless douche nozzles. Same with Disney...fuckin Jonas Brothers... Give me Kurt Loder, Adam Curry, the giant kiss-ass Matt Pinfield, fuck, give me Riki Rachtman even. I want my old MTV back!! All of the horseshit television that is on today we can DIRECTLY pin on MTV. It all started with The Real World. I don't give a shit how different types of people get along in a house. BFD, unless you are going to have gratuitous nudity, it's not really worth my time. Some day, I will touch back on the topic of nudity, something I have been a fan of for many, MANY years.

So, that's really it. Once again, nothing earth shattering or profound to say, just screaming into the void. Maybe someone will listen.

So, here it is...the Wheat Crop Man's blog...

Hello to the two people that may ever read this. I will tell you now, this will be full of poor punctuation, sentence structure, and other various poor grammatical what-not. This will also have absolutely nothing to do with wheat, crops, wheat crops, or farming of any kind. Although there will surely be an occasional Star Wars reference to "moisture farming". But that is about it.

Yes, this is called the Wheat Crop Man and I am he. No, as I've previously stated, this has nothing to do with farming. The title is an inside joke between my friend Scooter and I, from probably close to 25 years ago. I stated in an email to him the other day "I may start a blog with that name." And here it is. I'll give you fair warning that this will probably be the most boring, mundane thing you have possibly read, but if you do, thanks for reading.

I have no preconceived notions about what this will turn out to be. I am guessing it will be about movies, video games, women I think are hot, stupid people that irritate me, shit that happens at work, links to things that make me laugh, religion, whatever. I'm sure it will also be a place for me to vent my frustrations into the abyss that is the internet. If anyone does read this, and feels like responding...thanks.