I am most definitely not feeling creative right now, but I know my readers are clamoring for a new post. (lol) So I am allowing my oldest son to be my guest blogger for today. I have mentioned him in many posts, but here is your opportunity to really get to know him, as this is his introduction in his own words.
So... take it away Jimmy!
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My name is James, Jim, Jimmy, Jerk (that’s what Bear calls me), Dog Breath or Motor Mouth (that’s what Andy called me) Bentley, Buttley, and Bent as well a variety of other names, usually involving the letters J or B.
Or some choice four letter words. I’ll leave you to your own conclusions.
I live in South Portland, Maine and am currently freezing my butt off here in the great arctic north. I hope the summer is as good as I hear it is – otherwise I want my money back.
I work as a systems administrator (read here Computer Whipping Boy) for a company called Hannaford Brothers Grocery. They own part of Food Lion, the food store that was slapped with proven allegations of selling old and tainted meat sometime back in the nineties.
Which reminds me - I have to hurry up writing this; I must get back to fixing the computers that are programmed to wrap the tainted meat for sale. But I have time to mention a few more things.
I play the piano and fool around (while trying to look cool) on the guitar. Maybe one day I’ll be good. Mom says I will be, but she also once told me that I would be an astronaut. That’s just not a reliable source, you know?
I’m thirty-one years old, probably a few (okay, like twenty) pounds overweight and I have an unhealthy, inexplicable desire to eat my weight in McDonald's food. One day, maybe I’ll do that and be good at the guitar. To dream the impossible dream.
My desires to become a writer or a politician (or both) have about the same chance of Mom winning the lottery, but I hope these goals will come along with the guitar and McDonalds achievements I have listed above.
I’m married to a lady from Maine, and she’s very nice to me. She generally doesn’t call me stupid (unless I have done something stupid) and she is very forgiving of my tendency to talk too much. Unlike her father, who once said, “Can’t you shut that guy up, Tiffanie? Every time he opens his mouth, his guts fall out.” (True story)
That’s okay though, I know he really likes me deep down.
I have to be up for work at noon, and it is now 3:45 AM. So I bid you all adieu and grant you permission you to get on with your lives. Good night ladies and gentlemen – may your lives be complete and prosperous. And may you suffer from little to no lower back pain.
Jimmy
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Grandpa and baby enjoyed watching "Dancing with the Stars."
Today, which happens to be my birthday, Shelby graduates from high school! I am writing this post in advance, because the day is going to be completely hectic with a pre and post graduation open house, not to mention the lengthy ceremony.
I was hoping that someday my son Jimmy would become president. This is his first campaign photo, taken in 1988! :)
You sustained us through the hamburger years. The first apartment furnished in Early Poverty... our first mode of transportation (1976 feet)... the 7-inch TV set we paid on for 36 months.
You cried less, had more patience, and never in your life did anything "first," but it only made you more special. You are the one I relaxed with and realized a dog could kiss you and you wouldn't get sick. You could cross the street by yourself long before you were old enough to get married, and the world wouldn't come to an end if you went to bed with dirty feet.
You are the one I held onto so tightly. For, you see, you are the link with the past that gives a reason to tommorow. You darken my hair, quicken my steps, square my shoulders, restore my vision, and give me humor that security and maturity can't give.
