Felix's Stuff
One Life Left! But, Them Eight Were Great!!
Back to Stuff about me
Who? Me? Whad I do? Whuts Goin On Anyhoo?
Early years and such:
I go by the moniker of Felix as, like a feline, I tend to land on
my feet when the going gets rough, have an inquisitive nature, seem
to have more than one shot at living and breathing, hence, nine
lives, of which, I have used up a few.
I have been a die-hard "motor-head" since the tender age of 6 when
I sat on Poppa's lap and drove his "woody" around the yard. He pushed
the pedals and I steered. What a life!! The best!!
My Dad got me an old Vespa scooter when I was about 7. I could not
reach the ground when sitting on the seat but, wow, three speeds and
two wheels. I was hooked. We lived next to a power company
right-of-way so I had miles of dirt roads, trails, mud, jumps,
hills, dales, and more fun stuff.
I moved on up to real motorcycles and was riding a Harley Davidson
Sportster by the time I was 14. I was "that kid" who could ride
up "The Santa Maria". A huge hill that went from 45 degrees
at the easy parts to next to vertical at the tough areas. You
had to be able to "jump". And I did.
I raced a BSA, a Bultaco, a Bridgestone, (Remember them? Rotary
intake 2 stroke, real cutting edge!), and a Honda for a few great
years.
I came to the ripe old age of 16, got my real license, and proceeded
with haste to ruin my life by my attraction to the wrong people,
things, events, you name it. I went through a few "lives" and came
to my senses in my mid twenties, down, broke, busted, and,
born-to-lose, or, so I thought.
I did not care about the "thrill" anymore. I just wanted a normal
life without the crap that is associated with that volcano-dancing
lifestyle. I thought my life, as I knew it, was over and boordom would
be mine forevermore. How wrong I was.
Growing up:
Man how exciting the world of the "straight shooters" turned out
to be. I have had so many opportunities! I have done so much!
I became a self employed painting contractor. I Moved into general
construction, started doing the rehabilitation of homes and bought
some for myself. I had 45 at one time. I got my first boat a Sea Ray
21 cabin. What a life. I really wish my Dad could have been around.
Hey, its not all peaches and cream. I had reversals. I opened a
restraunt and went belly up. Lost a cool million. So what! It
caused me to go back to school and become a RN. Life is a strange
and wonderful trip.
Nursing (really):
You know, whatever they say, nursing is a tough job. It is made all
the worse by the way that nurses treat each other. What cut-throat
bitches. Oh, not all of them. I have met some really beautiful
human beings in the health care industry, but, overall they are
really hard to work with. Coming from a business background I
was dumb founded by the way these huge multi-million dollar companies
are organized and operated. Unless you have worked in this theater
you cannot even begin to guess what goes on.
Anyhow I went into it all gung ho like the type
A personality I am. Med-Surg, Ortho, Psych, CCU, ICU, and then, my
final stop, ER.
The ER:
When you have a depth of experience in an avocation you can
take advantage of many opportunities. I used my varied experience
of intensive care to really become an asset in the ER. The big
shortages of nurses helped also. I set my own hours. I worked
8 or 10 days straight and then took off for two or so weeks.
I used my time to travel, by motorcycle, all over the East
and Midwest. I also started my construction business up again.
(Bad move. Who wants to work all the time!) Life is good.
The Wife:
I met my wife by chance at a St Patricks day dance. I knew her
as the wife of one of my boyhood chums. Seems they had gotten
divorced. I had heard all about it the prior year when he spent
the Christmas holidays with me beefing about "that bitch". The
story then gets strange.
The "Ex.":
I was supposed to go
out "on the town" with this guy one weekend. I got a call
from the hospital to see if I could cover the ER. Hey, most
nurses have families and it is hard to find fill in help
on the weekend. I have no kids so I will take the double time gladly.
I called and left him a message telling him as much. We figured
that we would go out the next weekend. Sure enough, the next week I
got a call that they were being "crushed" in the ER. Could I come
in. "OK, this is the last short notice shift though" I told them.
I left a message with my buddy. "Sorry, gotta work, next week 4
sure."
On Sunday when I got home at 8am there was a Psycho message on
my machine. Most of it did not make any sense. He told me that if
I called him again he would call the cops. What? There were other
rambling statements about "getting me" and other weird inferences.
I called him as I was worried about what might be going on. I mean,
we were not really close. We only had started seeing each other
maybe once every few weeks the last holiday season. I had not seen
him for 6 years prior to that. The message I left was like "Are
you OK? What is going on? Can I help you with anything?"
I got another message on Tuesday. Another Psycho message.
"Don't call again you bastard &^%$# %%#$#", etc, etc. Do
not worry I will NEVER call again. Strange and true story.
Back to the Wife:
Well, since I knew her as my now ex-pals wife, I was at her wedding
with my first fiance. I was at her college graduation with
my second fiance. I was at her second marriage with my
third fiance, my present wife, Stephanie. Strange days.
To be continued at some time if you are still awake.
Back to Stuff about me