Coming Home

When I was seventeen I joined a cult.  Do I have your attention?  Yes?  Good.  I didn't join a cult, I joined the Order of DeMolay.  Why?  I was bored.  I had a car and no where to go.  I was in high school and while I wasn't unpopular, I had no real social life.  What I found was way more.  If you had told me in February 1993 that this would be a defining event in my life I would have told you that you were insane.  My senior year was ahead of me.  College was ahead of me.  Football was my whole life.  DeMolay was at that time an outlet, nothing less and nothing more.  I didn't know that in less than a year everything I thought I knew about life would change and that DeMolay would become the one thing that I would care the most about.  I learned so much about myself in this group.  I learned to harness my ambitions.  I learned to speak in public.  I learned to respect those different from me.  These are all great things.  I also learned how to be arrogant, a bit self absorbed, and to manipulate my peers.  I don't say this as a detraction of DeMolay.  If anything the sense of belonging it provided me simply amplified the other things.

The last few years have been the most exciting and the most trying of my life.  I have a beautiful and amazing wife.  I have a beautiful little boy who lights up my life.  I have been blessed more than I deserve.  Three years ago, I went back to my roots.  As wonderful as things have been, I was missing a part of myself.  Recently, I have started to feel whole again as old friendships have been renewed.  It's never been easy for me to admit that I need help.  Recently I was reminded of a simple truth...  nobody can help you if they don't know you need it.  In a round about way this is also a thank you note to Rick, John, Shawn, Mike and Brian.  You really are among the finest men I will ever know.

I would be remiss talking about DeMolay without mentioning a few really special people who mean(t) everything to me.  Fred K. Bauer, you had a heart of pure gold and a quiet dignity about you that I truly respected.  I miss you everyday.  Chris Sylvia, I was your wingman and deputy but you were my brother and friend and I hope someday we might find that common ground promised in the retirement song.  Paul Weston, all I can say to you is "Talk to me Goose." It doesn't matter if hours or years pass between our conversations it always feel like it's only been a few minutes.

Well, if you are still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.

Long Overdue

I believe that when a person goes through a traumatic experience that they either remember every single detail about it and constantly re-experience it or attempt to block it out until the memory resurfaces.  I've battled with my own experience for the last eight years.  I've tried to explain it to my friends with limited or no success.  They either don't or can't understand because they weren't there.  And even though I don't doubt that they care, I know that many of my closest friends haven't really been listening because they are dealing with their own traumas which I completely understand.  We only know our own pain and it's hard to cope with anything outside our own fragile sensibilities.  I've tried counseling but that has limits. The truth is that there is a story to be told.  Once it is told in its entirety, then I hope that I will finally be free of it.

The Misguided Children is my story.  It is both epic and fragile at the same time.  It is comedic, dramatic, tragic, and at times ironic.  I have experienced terror and fear, and great joy and courage.  I don't expect everyone who reads it to understand it.  I don't even expect everyone who reads it to believe it.  I'm not even sure that I believe it all even though it is all true.  It is a work in progress as am I.  If you have been a fan of this blog then I hope you will give it a read.  If you have been bored by my incessant rambling here, then maybe you will like a more structured story.  As I said this is my story, and while I'm not sure if it's anything that anyone will actually want to read, I am absolutely certain that it is one I need to tell.

http://themisguidedchildren.blogspot.com/

What is the point?

So another of Lance Armstrong's former teammates has come forward to say that Lance was using EPO during the 1999, 2001, and 2002 Tour de France.  Why?  Why is it so crucial to media and to the U.S. Government to bring this man down?  We live in a world besmirched by war, natural disasters, a lousy economy, hatred and fear.  Most people are so wrapped up in their sad little existences that they don't even recognize real problems.  Lance Armstrong had brain, lung and testicular cancer...  AT THE SAME TIME!!!  Who cares that he won the Tour de France once or seven times...  HE BEAT THREE DIFFERENT STRANDS OF CANCER!!!  Then he had the unmitigated nerve to use his celebrity to form the Livestrong Foundation which raises millions upon millions of dollars to fight cancer!!  I definitely think that the media and the U.S. Government should spend countless hours and money trying to prove that this man cheated in a bike race.  Are you fucking kidding me?!?!  The man cheated death!!!  Who the hell cares about a bike race?!?!?  He has one nut left and these lousy bastards want to cut that one off too!!!  The executives that destroyed the economy get a free pass but Lance Armstrong needs to be taken down a notch?!  What other American professional athlete spends as much time trying to inspire people and fund cancer research?!?!  Certainly not any of the whining crybaby millionaires in the NFL who can't even figure out if they are in a union!!!  Certainly not any of the tattoo covered, dope smoking, wife leaving, thug life wanna be "stars" in the NBA!!!  Certainly not any of the drive up each other's asses at 200 mph NASCAR drivers!!!  Certainly not any of the "I'm awesome because I do my job 30% of the time" guys in MLB!!! (Batting .300 is 30% for those who need help!!)  My mother died of cancer and I had to watch it.  I can't help but admire Lance Armstrong.  Nothing anyone has said or will ever say can change that.  Now leave him alone and start going after the people that are destroying the world we live in!

Well, if you are still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.

Rest In Peace Macho Man

I love sports, movies, music, pop culture, comic books, novels, history, beer, and politics.  I like to consider myself relatively well spoken, read and educated.  If I have a vice, an addiction so to speak, it's to pro-wrestling.  I am fully aware of each and every stigma attached to it, and I honestly don't care.  I'm hooked.  I've been hooked since I stayed up to late on a Saturday night in 1987 and saw a guy dressed like Elvis smash a guitar over a stringy haired, bearded dude wearing purple trunks with three white stars on the front and Macho Man printed on the back.  A few minutes later, Hulk Hogan was lead to the ring by a woman in a torn dress to save him.  When the dust settled the two men shook hands in the center ring.  That was my introduction to Randy Savage.  There was something about his weird voice, head band, ridiculous capes, and sunglasses that made him cool.  Twenty three years ago I saw an interview with the Macho Man where he uttered the words "I've got me a tag team partner, and he's the greatest tag team partner that anybody in the world could ever have!!  AND HERE HE COMES RIGHT NOW..."  and out came Hulk Hogan to form the Mega Powers.  I guess I'm a fanboy geek because that is still cool to me.  I always enjoyed watching the Macho Man whether it was for WWE, WCW, NWO, Slim Jim, or occasionally in the movies.  Nobody ever wasted their money to see Randy Savage.  Heaven is a little brighter today and the world is little less colorful.  You will be missed Randy.  You were flawed, a bit crazy, tempermental, talented, entertaining and often imitated but never duplicated.  I wish you fair winds and calm seas.  Rest in peace.

Goodbye.. for now

No more rants.  No more questions.  No more diatribes.  I'm going to shut this blog down for a while and concentrate on the story I started in the Misguided Children.  I've enjoyed writing this blog.  I hadn't written  anything just to write it in a long time.

I love my wife and my little boy.  I love my friends.  I love my life (for the most part).  I have been unhappy for real reasons and venting about the pointless and unimportant.  I need the people that I love the most to be around more.  I miss you and need to know that you're there.  Please don't ditch me now.  I really need you now more than ever.  I'm asking for your help even if you feel I don't deserve it.

This post will not go up on Facebook or Twitter, but rather it is just going to sit here as a beacon.  If you are reading this then I can only assume that at one time or another we were friends.  If that's the case then I hope we still are cuz I miss you.

Slighted

Lately I've been using this blog to ask questions that occur to me, but today I'm gonna rant a bit.  So I've been a shut-in now going on what seems like forever.  Boredom and cabin fever have taken over and they are playing absolute havoc on my mental and emotional states.  I feel completely out of touch and disconnected.  I know that I've had a serious case of seasonal depression.  I was watching Hoffa last night and Jack Nicholson tells Danny DeVito that he shared information with another Teamster because "If a guy's close to you, you can't slight 'im. You can't slight that guy. A real grievance can be resolved; differences can be resolved. But an imaginary hurt, a slight - that motherfucker gonna hate you 'til the day he dies."  This got me to thinking about what constitutes a slight?  Words, actions, a combination? Is it ignoring or being indifferent to some one's feelings?  Is it purposely pissing them off and then acting like you did nothing wrong when you knew they'd explode just not to the degree which they did? Is it lying to someone to "protect" their feelings?  Is it making excuses? I'm not talking about a dictionary definition here.  I could look it up if that's what I wanted.  No.  What I want to do is write a real world definition complete with examples of things that if you do then you'll probably be guilty of slighting someone. 


A slight is a perceived feeling of being left out or screwed over by someone important or close.


First off, once and for all accept that words hurt.  It's a stupid little joke that words can never hurt you.  Some of the most painful things in the world are words.  I'm a big dude and I can take a punch or a kick, but some of the most pain I've ever felt have been caused by words.  Here are some phrases that I think classify as slights and what is actually meant/heard:

• I don't want to be rude, but... (something really nasty is coming!)
• I've just been so busy lately... (and you don't really matter to me!)
• I've been meaning to talk to you... (no you haven't!)
• I would've written, but I didn't know what to say... (actually I'm just totally insensitive/lying!)
• If you're hurting then it's on you... (I don't care because I'm not hurting!)
• Respect me enough not to ask me why... (I know you won't agree and might have a valid point that I don't want to hear!)
• Everybody's going through some stuff... (and I really don't care about your shit!)
• That's not the same as... (thank you for belittling how I feel because you think you've been through worse!)
• We wanted to include you but... (insert lame ass reason here!)
• You're too... (short, average, dumb, loud, arrogant, simple, mean, nice. etc!)
• Please check this out...  (thing you've been excluded from)
• I didn't think you'd say yes... (thanks for giving me an option)
• I'm broke... (then you post something on facebook about spending money or going somewhere!)
• I don't care about...  (Yes you do! Ever notice that you only say this about stuff that bothers you?!)
• I just figured... (actually you didn't even think so you shouldn't start this way)
• It's not that big a deal... (if it's causing an issue then it's a big deal!)
• You never listen.. (this one's good when it comes from someone who never opens up!)
• YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN... (caps signify yelling. irony?)
• I talked to you about this... (WHEN?!?! Never happened and you're desperately looking for an out!)
• Well I don't have time to deal with this... (or you because you don't matter!)
• How dare you... (consider how you'd feel if someone says this to you?!?!)
• Stop being so sensitive.. (thanks for belittling me!)

I know that I've said a lot of these phrases and that means that I have slighted people and for that I am sorry.  But these are lines I've been hearing a lot lately either to me or to friends of mine and I think that it should be noted that the only person who feels better when these phrases are said is the speaker.  Trust me when I say this, you are not protecting the other person's feelings or appearing sympathetic if you say these things to a friend who is hurting and needs help.  On the contrary you are coming off as a sanctimonious asshole and you are in danger of making an enemy!!

Well if you're still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.

WTF?!?!?!

I wish I had a funny motive for this blog, but it occurs to me that so many things are so seriously F@#$ED up in the world right now that humor might not be the best way to address them.  What is going on with the weather? Why do we do think that sending money will help victims of natural disasters?  They need people to actually help them!  How the hell am I still unemployed?  When is the NFL going to realize that trying to figure out how to divide $9 BILLION in revenue is a problem that everyone else would love to have?  Who is going to rise up next?  Where is the compassion?  What happened to moral outrage?  Why do I always have to reach out first?  How are we going to fix this planet?  When are we going to realize that "Not in my backyard" is a pathetic way to go through life?  Where are groups like the NAACP, NOW and GLAD when disasters happen? (Can they only help people when people create the problem?)  How do we continue to ignore the people who matter most to us and care about that which truly shouldn't matter? What should matter more: fear or respect? Why don't religious people practice the tolerance that all religions preach?  Who was the last person who said on their deathbed that they wished they'd spent more time at work?   How did I forget the order of these questions?  When are we going to stop dreaming big and living small?  What is so wrong with wanting accountability and fairness?  Why do we say "I don't care" about the stuff that really bothers us?  Where is it written that it's better to do nothing when you know someone needs help?  Who is still reading?  How is it all going to end?  Why am I so filled with anger and jealousy instead of love and compassion?  When is the world going to wake up?  Where do I get off asking these kind of questions?  What is wrong with the Bruins?  Who will be next to get married and have kids?  How long will it take certain people to realize that words can and do hurt but not as much as indifference?  Why does my friend Mark's happiness seem to coincide with so much misery around the world? When will you vote for Smokin Hoggz BBQ?  How often? Who will be at the Quincy Bar Crawl this weekend?  What will Brayden's first word be?  Where has the time gone?

Well if you're still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case, then you have my sympathies.

Self Reflection

Mojo is defined as a charm or a spell.  According to the Austin Powers films, mojo is a life force that makes men want to be like you and women want to be with you.  It's the first name of Jim Morrison's anagram.   Mojo is also my fraternity nickname.  It might come as a shock to some people that my nickname isn't Connors.  Some nicknames stick and some don't.  I guess mine didn't.  I started this blog as an outlet for the backup of crazy thoughts that I have about the world.  At least that's what I tell people.  The truth of the matter is that I started it for two reasons:  1) I'm unemployed which means I have a ridiculous amount of free time and 2) I felt abandoned and left out.  I called this blog "A Little Bit of Mojo" because in truth it's a little bit of me.

I know I am loud.  I know that I can be abrasive.  I know that I am 6'2 and weigh 285 lbs.  I know that I shave my head, and have a goatee.  I know that I look more like an ogre than a leading man.  I know at first glance most people probably think I'm not that bright and some probably believe it after further review.  I know that I have a chip on my shoulder.  I know that no matter how hard I try I always feel like I'm no good.  I know that I have a tendency to concentrate on what I don't have instead of what I do.  I know that I question everything and don't come up with any answers.  I know that slights or imaginary hurts are real things that cause a lot of damages.

I have said many times that if I can become half the man that my father is then I'll be twice as good as most men.  Whatever life throws his way, my father takes it in stride.  Somehow he manages to treat people with a smile and respect even when they don't return them.  He has never failed to support me even when I know that I didn't deserve it.  Unfortunately there have been a lot of those times.  Truthfully I love and respect my father more than anyone.  I have never understood how he manages to stay the course.  He's not an emotional man but that doesn't mean he doesn't care.  He is perhaps the most thoughtful person I know.  Listing my father's attributes makes me acutely aware that I am not even close to half the man he is.

I love books, TV and movies.  Men are always portrayed as brash, funny, tough, smart, stupid, obsessed, detached, thoughtful or thoughtless.  There are a lot of stereotypes about male characters and maybe men in general.  I was watching The Godfather and Johnny was crying to Don Corleone about how his life was going.  Don Corleone responds "BE A MAN!"  Men aren't supposed to cry.  Men aren't supposed to get stressed out.  Men are supposed to be mature.  Men aren't supposed to ask for help.  Men aren't supposed to complain.  Men don't apologize.  By all the definitions, I know that I am not a good man.  I get upset.  I cry.  I get bitter and hostile for no good reason.  I get overwhelmed and withdraw.  I laugh out loud at ridiculous, immature crap.  I apologize when I have hurt someone, even to those who would never apologize to me.  I feel bad about feeling bad.  Sometimes I am too honest.  Sometimes I am not honest enough.

So, why am I writing this?  Why have I shared my opinion of myself?  Because now I am a father.  Despite all my shortcomings God and my wife have seen fit to give me a son.  He's a beautiful, innocent little boy and it is my job to help him navigate this crazy world and become a man.  I have but one hope for him.  I hope that he becomes a far better man than I am.  A man who cares for others more than for himself.  A man who will not worry about the past but will live for the present while planning for the future.  A man who will see the good in people and the world.  A man who will always seek to better himself no matter what he accomplishes.  A man who will love and be loved in return.  Above all I hope that I can become a good enough man to show him how.

I have been doing a lot of self reflection in the last year.  If you are reading this and you know me then please know that if I have ever done you harm in anyway, I am sorry.  I am not writing this looking for any sort of reassurances or accusations.  I know who I am and what I've done.  I also know what and who I want to become.

Well if you are still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that is the case then you have my sympathies.

How is it possible?

How is possible that all this F@#$ING snow hasn't melted yet?  How is it possible that a popular revolution led to military rule in Egypt?  How is possible that gas prices are climbing again?  How is it possible that no matter who is in charge nothing substantive gets done?  How is it possible that it's been a month since I wrote a new post?  How is it possible that my little boy is three months old?  How is it possible that my mother has been gone for 18 years?  How is it possible that my father can drink a bottle of wine everyday and not get a hangover?  How is it possible that Charlie Sheen thinks he can give Lindsay Lohan advice?  How is it possible that the Yankees are calling the Red Sox the favorite in the AL East?  How is it possible that Lindsay Lohan is not serving time?  How is it possible that Daredevil got three stars on Comcast? (This was ML's question but it was too good to not include)  How is it possible that Sarah Palin was ever Governor of anywhere?  How is it possible that I remember as much as I do for my Misguided Children blog?  How is it possible that lower middle class people believe that we'd all be better off without unions?  How is it possible that Republicans seem hellbent on reliving the mid-90s when they shut down the Federal Government?  How is it possible that I have been out of the Marine Corps for eight years?  How is it possible that natural disasters destroy almost everywhere else in the world except the continental United States?  How is it possible that anyone thinks Tyler Perry playing Alex Cross is good idea?  How is it possible that The Miz is still the WWE Champion?  How is it possible that the NFL Owners and NFLPA are so incredibly out of touch with reality?  How is it possible that Rick Lavoie is not a contributor for the History Channel?  How is it possible that I can go months without talking to my two best friends and then pick up right where we left off when we do?  How is it possible that people think Waiting for Superman is a documentary and not propaganda?  How is it possible that people don't see that age and maturity are not linked?  How is it possible that you have read the Tremendous Tales of Nicholas Nobody?  How is it possible that you aren't listening to The Thread Podcast?  How is it possible that I didn't know there was a Red Robin (YUM!!!) at Patriot Place in Foxboro?  How is it possible that I still won't use bullets for these blogs?  How is it possible that Jesse The Machine Green is the best artist that you've never heard of?  How is it possible that the majority of my friends are married and either have or are having children? (How did that happen?)  How is it possible that I have a Masters degree? How is it possible that it's been 235 since there was a revolution in this country? (Might be time for another one)  How is it possible that I still have more questions?  How is it possible that I'll be 35 in less than a month?  How is it possible that I actually want to see Fast Five? (I can't explain it either)  How is it possible that I prefer iced coffee all year round?  How is it possible that people still believe that the end justifies the means?  How is it that more people don't understand that life is what happens when your making other plans?

Well if you are still reading then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.

A Little Perspective

I am not happy that the New England Patriots lost to the New York Jets in the divisional round of the playoffs.  Before I jump on the bandwagon of fellow Pats fans who are as I speak driving to the Tobin Bridge to jump off, I thought that I should reflect on whether this is the worst thing that ever happened or at least the worst thing that has happened while I've been alive.

I'm 34 years old.  I was born on March 18, 1976.  When I was two years old the New York Yankees beat the Boston Red Sox in a one game playoff when Bucky Bleeping Dent smashed the game winning HR.  When I was four years old Iranian students took over the American Embassy and held 52 Americans hostage for 444 days.  When I was five years old John Lennon was killed in NYC.  When I was seven years old the US Marine Corps barracks was bombed in Beirut.  When I was nine years old my grandmother died.  When I was ten years old the space shuttle Challenger exploded while it was taking off and the Red Sox blew game 6 and eventually the World Series, and the Patriots lost the Super Bowl.  When I was eleven the Celtics lost the NBA Finals to the Lakers.  When I was twelve years old the Bruins lost the Stanley Cup Finals and Michael Dukakis decided to run for President.  When I was thirteen years old the San Francisco earthquake struck during the World Series.  When I was fourteen years old the Bruins lost the Stanley Cup Finals again and President Bush launched Operation Desert Shield and Desert Storm.  When I was fifteen years old the Perfect Storm hit the east coast.  When I was sixteen years old Rodney King was beat down by the LAPD and my uncle Rick died.  When I was seventeen years old Reggie Lewis died of a heart attack, my mother died of cancer and my grandfather died.  When I was eighteen years old O.J. Simpson killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman.  When I was nineteen years old my uncle Jake died of brain cancer and the Patriots lost another Super Bowl.  When I was twenty years old the New York Yankees won the World Series (this happened again when I was 21, 23, 24, and 33) and John Elway and the Broncos won the Super Bowl. (This happened again when I was twenty one years old.)  When I was twenty one years old my father fell down and fractured his skull.  When I was twenty two years old a drunk girl fell down the stairs of my fraternity house and almost got me and my roommates kicked out of school.  When I was twenty three years old Dale Earnhardt died during the Daytona 500.  When I was twenty four years old Islamic terrorists blew up the World Trade Center and the United States of America invaded Afghanistan.  When I was twenty seven years old the United States of America invaded Iraq and the Red Sox blew game 7 of the ALCS to the New York Yankees and my grandmother died.  When I was twenty eight years old the Boston Red Sox won the World Series!!! (I am aware that this doesn't qualify as a bad thing I just still can't believe it and love to say it!!!)  When I was twenty nine years old I got laid off (This happened again when I was 31 and 34.) and Hurricane Katrina struck the Gulf Coast.  When I was thirty years old the New England Patriots blew a 21 point in the second half and lost the AFC Championship to the Indianapolis Colts.  When I was thirty one years old the New England Patriots lost to the New York Giants in the Super Bowl thus ending their bid for an undefeated season.  When I was thirty two years old Tom Brady tore his ACL on the first series of the first game of the season, the Red Sox lost the ALCS to the Tampa Bay Rays and and the Boston Bruins lost a game 7 and the global economy almost collapsed. (The latter also happened when I was 33 and 34.)  When I was thirty four years old the Celtics lost the NBA Finals to the Lakers, my wife and unborn son were run off the highway in a hit and run accident and the Pats lost to the Jets in the Playoffs, an oil rig exploded in the Gulf of Mexico and a psycho executed 5 people in Arizona.

Now...  this has been an off the top of my head list of bad things that have happened during my life.  Some are comical, others are incidental, and some were life altering and earth shattering.  Do I have a point?  I guess my point is that the Patriots losing this playoff game isn't the end of the world.  Just trying to add a little perspective.   Besides we all know that end of the world is directly linked to Mark Czarnowski's happiness...  and considering that he is happier lately than I've ever seen him, I think that it is safe to say we in serious trouble!!

Well, if you are still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.

When 1.12

When will people accept that words actually do hurt?  When will Rex Ryan stop talking long enough to pull his head out of his ass? (After all isn't it hard to put your foot in your mouth when your head is up your ass?)  When will all the resumes I send out get even a measured response?  When is Lebron James going to realize that his opinions don't matter to anyone but him?  When are we all going to realize that it is our fault that politicians treat us like idiot children?  When will there be new members of the Fifth Column?  When is Kevin Garnett going to return?  When will I get around to posting a new Misguided Children?  When is Antonio Cromarte going to spend his time worrying about his kids instead of whether or not Tom Brady respects him?  When is the NCAA going to strip Auburn of its National Championship? (C'mon, you know it's coming)  When will the Biggest Loser stop trying to be Survivor and help these people change their lives?  When is Triple H going to return?  When am I going to start letting that which doesn't matter truly slide?  When are the Bruins going to stop pissing away leads in the third period?  When will No Ordinary Family start wearing costumes?  When will my friends on Facebook give The Tremendous Tales of Nicholas Nobody a read?  When will my son sleep through the night?  When will the NFL change its playoff format?  When will I finally break down and bring Brayden to meet his aunts and my cousins?  When will my friend Eric and I schedule some playtime for our children?  When will Tony and Ziva just get it over with?  When will Ron Artest finally snap again?  When are the writers going to stop pretending they care about the sanctity of the game when all they do is constantly knock it down a peg?  When will the press hound Floyd Mayweather with the same tenacity that they hounded Tiger Woods or Mike Tyson?  When will Otis finally make it to Boston? (Shawn P 3, Otis 0)  When will the Big Bad Voodoo Daddy write his leadership manual?  When will Chris Hazlewood fight in the UFC?  When will Leigh and Leo pick a name?  When are liberals going to stop letting conservatives paint them as wimps or better yet stop acting like wimps?  When are conservatives going to stop pandering to the religious nuts?  When are people going to realize that five other people were KILLED in Arizona and not just one congresswoman was shot?  When will education reform actually reform education?  When will people everywhere care as much about a veteran's funerals as much as a nine year old girl's?

Well, if you are still reading this then you obviously have as much time on your hands as I do and if that's the case then you have my sympathies.