Sunday, January 01, 2006

The Official 2006 Stacy New Year's Resolutions

New Year's Resolutions are dopey, self-defeating fits of grandeur that usually only last for about the first eighteen days of the year, on average.

Which is why I felt it necessary to come up with a list of them for myself.

Please hold your applause and laughter until the end of the post.

Thank you.


Deep within the recesses of my soul is a warm, fuzzy place for Radio. It has been a huge slice of my life that I have devoured since I was a healthy young boy. When my family would go camping, every night we would listen to the mysteries on the radio. My Dad would usually fall asleep after the first few characters were introduced, but I was captivated.

Once again, when the medical appointments began to steal my youth on trips back and forth the the University of California Medical Center in San Francisco, I would smile every so often at Frank & Mike in the Morning on KNBR.

Frank has since retired from broadcasting and Mike has his own syndicated food & travel show with his wife, but I can still remember waiting for their benchmark characters and moments of hilarity that would make the drive in to the city a little less traumatic.

So once I began college, it didn't take long for me to make my way to KDVS and volunteer enough hours to warrant my own radio show. It was from 3-6am once a week, but I didn't care. I was starting to live the dream and I couldn't have been happier.

It's 15 years later and the last ten I've spent in broadcasting. It only seems like work when I'm overwhelmed and have too many tasks and not enough hours.

But since Dialysis has come along, I've begun to rexamine everything, including my love for this industry.

I've worked extremely hard and sacrificed too much to chance careers. What I believe my gut is telling me is that I need a new locale to renergize my soul.

Which is why I'm spending part of my vacation this week rebuilding my less than meaty resume.

I say that only because I glance at it with fresh eyes and see that it hasn't been as well written as it could be.

I have the experience and skills. They just need to simmer together in my mind to create a resume that will give my career a second chance.

Whether that's in front of or behind the mic remains to be seen.


I'm beginning to notice a trend here when it comes to women in the Sonoma County area. They usually fall into one of the following categories:

a. They're clinically obese.

I travel all over the Bay Area and one fact is clear: statistically Sonoma County has more fat people per capita. I'm not sure why this is, it's just my observational opinion.

And don't get me wrong, there is NOTHING wrong with larger women. But keep in mind, on a heavy fluid day, I barely tip the scales at 125lbs. I need someone that's going to be emotionally AND physically compatible.

Plus, women of larger sizes are always telling me they wish they had my figure.

Huh? Whuh? You want to look like the poster child for anorexia? You want to have A-cup breasts?


b. They're frightened of my condition.

Everything could be going fantastic, we could have great chemistry and a lot of laughter all night long. Things are grooving along, we start to make out and her hand somehow manages to grasp my upper left arm where my Dialysis graft is.

(Lusty making out sounds.)

"Uumermmmummmwaitaminute what the hell is that?"

She jumps back a little and flattens her back against my truck door.

I look her straight in the eye and spill the truth all over the front of her low hanging blouse.

"Eww, why didn't you tell me? That's gross. I don't want to be on Dialysis."

I look away and try and explain that you can't catch my condition by any means.

When I turn my head back the car door is slammed in my face.


c. Most single women my age have kids.

This again is not a problem, just an observation. And it seems a majority of the time their ex-husband (or boyfriend, as the case may be) treated them like dirt so they have no idea how to relate to someone who plants them somewhat higher.


I have fallen into an incredibly boring rut where I spend most of my free time resting or napping.

This allows my demons Herbie and Lester to fester, gain strength and chip away at my self esteem.

I don't have to tell you how destructive this can be.

I miss ordinary mundane activities like shopping, eating out and going to shows and movies.

With a little more effort, and a little better health, this one should be easy.


I use the phrase "naked time" in lieu of more descriptive (and less classy) terms like "fucking", "getting laid" and "fuck, I need to get laid."

I have 364 more chances to accomplish the above resolutions completely and without regret.

Wish me luck.

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