Stuff that Steve Says

I think I have figured out my connection to you.

I don’t have your work ethic. I don’t have your drive.

I am an amateur performer. You are a professional involved with the entertainment industry. You actually produce a substance. I just make a character. I make nothing tangible.

Not that you have any sort of overly exaggerated accent, but you sound like you’re from here. That is not a criticism, I’m sure that I do too. Hearing any tale that you tell feels heartwarming. I think it is because of how you sound.

The main reason is because you are crass. Sometimes when we are having a conversation, I feel like that it is me talking to me. You have a way of making me feel special without even giving me a compliment.

You remind me of my inner voice.

I’m glad that you are not related to Jesse.

I don’t want to find a woman like that.

I love that you’re near my height. Glancing into your eyes is easy from this vantage point. Have you noticed I require reading glasses now?

I love how you made me feel while my father started his demise. I wouldn’t have gotten through that without you.

I love your smile. It is a most beautiful thing. I think I’ve only kissed you on the cheek twice. One of those times I was trying to be affectionately annoying. I don’t remember what lady asked this, I remember hearing it… We were at Badin Brews… She said “are you two brother and sister, because you sure act like it.”

I love the relationship you have with my son. Regardless of what he ever says to you, you are kind to him. You treat him as if he’s your own.

I love how you were concerned about the people’s feelings in that upstairs apartment after that attorney’s office caught fire. Just that you considered complete strangers’ feelings.

I love how one time I walked into the The Boardroom and Barb looked at me and said “She’s upstairs”

She knew who I was there for.

I loved you telling Karen about talking you into spending the night with me, and how it made you feel when I slept on the floor. I never knew what that meant to you.

I love you more than I can ever show or tell you.

I love you

I’m awake. I feel like writing…

Are you aware of how you captivate me?

No one else is present. I’m yours.

I wonder what prompts you to remove your glasses. It makes me want to put them on and see through your windows, your eyes.

How does it feel to know that you can whisk me away, and put me in your pocket? That you make the room disappear?

I’ve told you before…you’re magic

I see you. Then, I see the other you.

I trust you, but that other you I can’t.

You are my most familiar, yet you are at a distance.

I feel you, but that other side of you doesn’t know how it feels when our faces brush.

I wish you would turn to me.

I miss that side of you. I miss it much.

No matter where I am, you can always find me.

I want to go where our souls touch.

I was talking to my friend, Heather, about introverted performers. I told her more likely than not that a person that walks out on stage is more than likely an extrovert.

She directs plays.

She said that there is some truth to that, but I would be surprised.

I’m having a conversation with a different lady.

I was having a conversation with someone extremely introverted. Aside from her husband, I am the only person that I see her really conversing with.

We happen to be alone and I let her listen to Gina singing.

Women with voices I find to be beautiful can make me cry.

She listens intently. She is very complimentary and starts explaining the ranges Gina is best at. I realize she knows how to sing too.

The lady I’m speaking to used to be an athlete. I think hearing Gina triggered her inner competitor. She looks at me and tells me not to tell anyone that she can do this. She doesn’t want to perform for others. She knows people will badger her to sing and I was about to find out why.

She starts belting out a song from Les Mis. No warmup. She is stellar. It’s one of the best voices I’ve ever heard. She didn’t sing long enough to get tears, but if she kept going I’d have been raining on the floor. She has performed in Les MIs onstage. I never knew she acted.

Turns out she was a ballerina too.

I would never think an introvert would be capable of doing what she can do in front people.

Never judge a book by its cover

We are eating at Chophouse 101 located at 101 West Ave Kannapolis, NC 28081.

I’ve never done a restaurant/food review. I guess I need some sort of scale. Bear in mind I hadn’t developed my rating scale until after the video. That was spur of the moment.

Sub Par: Below Average

Par: Acceptable, but has to be good. This is a positive rating.

Excellent: It exceeded my expectations

Our server was German. I don’t mean in decent. His name was German. No, I don’t mean “Germanic”. Damnit, it’s his name! His name is German. German was an excellent server. German was attentive and answered any questions with detail. All courses were delivered timely. No glass, wine nor water, was ever empty until dinner was over. If you are able to request him, I would.

Server Grade: Excellent

The bread appeared to be of frozen variety. It was soft and sweet. I prefer my bread to be less sweet and have a crunch. The butter that was paired with it was also sweet, with a cinnamon flavor. I would have preferred regular butter. This may as well have been dessert.

Bread Rating: Sub Par

The wine was EOS Cabernet Sauvignon. I’ll be honest…It was the cheapest bottle of cab on the menu. We rolled the dice. We won! It was way better than we expected! If you like red wines, take a chance!

Wine Rating: Excellent

We ordered the Stuffed Potato Skins as an appetizer. They are baked potato halves filled with crumbled bacon, shredded cheeses and served with sour cream and green onion. You can request ranch dressing as well. We did.

Stuffed Potato Skins Rating: Par

Since we already had a starch on the table as our appetizer, we ordered the house salad and broccoli as our sides. We would’ve had asparagus, but the restaurant was out. I had the house dressing which is basically Thousand Island. She had the Ranch.

Salad Rating: Par

Vegetable Rating: Par

For our entree we shared a 12 ounce Ribeye. It might be the best steak I’ve ever had! It’s the reason I wanted to write about this place. It was medium rare from coast to coast. There wasn’t a color variation inside of it. The steak was cooked to perfection. You should really try one of these if you haven’t.

Entree: Excellent

The atmosphere was calming, the service was excellent, the overall meal was exceptional and the entire experience was great.

I highly recommend Chophouse 101

Instead of using my thumbs, I often use my microphone to text. December of last year, I began needing reading glasses to…well…read.

When I am texting without wearing them I often find amusing results.

Translation: Alex that hangs out at the bar, that has the 3-D printer, wants your number. May I give it to him?

I added an Español spell check while doing Duo Lingo. My phone sometimes switches to a Spanish setting. That is what it looks like while speaking English and it switches to Español…

I have a friend that now thinks there should be a movie titled Alex it Hangs Out at the Bar. I don’t know what kind of movie she was thinking about.

I miss you like a shaded flower misses the sun.

I miss the sound of your voice.

I miss the the sound your voice makes when you end a sentence, the sound it makes at the end of your laugh. It is like you’re singing in my ear.

I miss your insight. The highlights of my week are the times I spend talking to you.

You can’t have a positive without a negative. That’s why you appreciate something good when it happens. A conversation with you is so fulfilling. The void that is left after it’s over is the reminder of how much the conversation meant.

I look forward to talking with you again. I look forward to how it will feel. I look forward to the positive that will ultimately make me miss you again.

I used to hate the sight of sunlight coming through the blinds, and the sound of birds chirping, in the morning. It meant the night was over.

Yet I relished the sound of your second alarm.

It meant that I got to hear you say “good morning.”

Then I would to pretend to not watch you walk away.

I would hurry to make your coffee by the time you finished your shower. Then, sometimes I made you a sandwich for your lunch.

I liked doing those little things because I was trying to catch up with all that you do for me.

You make me feel like I am more than I am.

When I see you time stops. My heart stops. There is nothing but you. Then you smile and slightly turn your head causing my world to turn again. My time begins again. 

I have been resuscitated. 

I am welcomed back to a world that I had forgotten. I forgot to tell you…when my heart skipped my head did too. I hadn’t been struck but I felt as though I had. Your beauty is striking. 

I’m taken aback even after my resuscitation. 

I have never been enclosed in a tomb but seeing you feels like a weight was lifted. It’s like I’m floating to you. 

You are the Easter egg that was beautifully dyed, that I died and came back for. 

I recently rewatched the movie Kick Ass. It’s a story about what happens when an ordinary person, without superpowers, tries to become a hero. It’s a fun movie. It’s fictional. You should watch it if you haven’t.

The thing is I know someone like that, but she doesn’t wear a disguise. She is out in the open and genuine.

Well, while she doesn’t have superpowers, I can’t say she is ordinary. She’s extraordinary.

If you feel like you go above and beyond, she might make you check yourself.

Her name is Karen Weaver Brown

Everything she does, says or feels is positive.

She educates children. She guides them in the way they are supposed to be. She tries to help them be where they are supposed to be. Who they are supposed to be. I’ve seen the looks on former students faces…it’s appreciation. They admire her.

She is a volunteer, in conjunction with her church, to benefit the lives of people in need. I’m not talking about food donations and love offerings…which are very nice… They will literally come to your house and save the landscape. Limbs, leaves, weeds, overgrown grass…mitigated…no money, sheer kindness.

Speaking of church, she volunteers at the campuses too. She thinks that she can’t sing, but if you’re ever lucky to stand beside her, it’s the sweetest sound you’ll hear. Her soul is beautiful. Everyone there loves her.

She is there for any friend in emotional need. Love, happiness, separation, death, pain, destruction…she will take your call. She will meet you in person.

She is devoted to her family. Good times, hard times, anytime…she is there.

Family or friends…She’ll even bring your kids to a play when you’re otherwise occupied.

The world is not only better because of people like her, she positively affects thousands…it is better because of her.

She is beautiful.

And she kicks ass

@not_a_karen_karen_1

I told you that I’m an optimist.

I’ve seen a few articles talking about some lady naming her daughter Abcde. That’s dumb, I don’t care…but I noticed something. There are 9 letters in our alphabet that rhyme. B,c,d,e,g,p,t,v and z. That’s more than 1/3! What if you count y when it’s used in a vowel, like any? A,e,I,o,u are vowels and sometimes y. Nine letters of our alphabet rhyme, and sometimes 10! This lady was able to get over a third of the rhyming letters of our alphabet into her child’s name, using less than 1/5 of the letters, without breaking alphabetical order.

Noticing made me wonder in a weird:dumb ratio, if I’m weirder than she is dumb. I think I am. Which means that she is dumber than I am weird.

I remember the first time I saw you on stage. It was during rehearsal. Your performance was exceptional. Your portrayal of sadness and beautifully expressing it had tears streaming down my face.
I had to walk over to tell you.
You made me cry so many times.
You were remarkable, literally. I remarked to numerous friends to come see this show just to see you.
Anyone that doesn’t cast you is a fool.
You shouldn’t even have to audition. As soon as you walk in to audition, the director should just say that you have the part.
You are amazing!

There is a sentence, a phrase, that I hear in my head more and more as I age…”Get the fuck out of the way!”

I feel like people are not aware enough of their surroundings.

Shopping at the grocery store, any type of store with aisles…Why do people park their shopping carts on one side of the aisle, stand beside them, and browse the other side? Get the fuck out of the way!

Conversing in entrances/exits. Why does this happen? I get that you encountered each other while entering or exiting, and are taking a moment to catch up. Could you step aside, please? You’re not the only ones with business to conduct. Get the fuck out of the way!

Walkers and runners that traverse beside the sidewalk…you know, in the fucking street…who started this? When did this become ok?I’m in a car. Get the fuck out of the way!

The left lane. Jesus Goddamn Christ! If someone on your right is passing you…if someone on your right is going the same speed as you…if some asshole behind you is riding your bumper…You’re in the wrong lane! Get the fuck out of the way! Oh, you’re making a left in a few miles? Wait a few fucking miles then, and stay out of the fucking way!

A gauntlet was thrown down. A challenge was issued. Something was asked of me.

They are in California. Thousands of miles away from me.

Ryan: Amanda and I are going to a scenic view to look at the moon. Say something romantic to her. She keeps making fun of me when I try.

This is a speakerphone, FaceTime conversation. She is involved. it’s dark and I cannot see them. Still, audio is in full effect.

Me: Amanda, are you OK with this? I have a feeling I’m going to make you blush.

Amanda: Yes.

Me: Amanda, what color is your hair? I remember that it is blonde. It seems like I saw something red.

Ryan: she is strawberry blonde

Me: the first time that I saw you I heard your angelic voice, I saw your angelic smile and I saw your angelic hair. The lyrics “Amber waves of grain“ came to mind. America the Beautiful never pops into my head. That is the first time that ever happened. I immediately knew that the author of those lyrics had someone like you as a muse. That’s how beautiful you are.

Amanda: Stevie, that was beautiful. I didn’t expect that.

Me: Thank Karen. I have a muse. Are you blushing?

Amanda: Yes.

Ryan: Her seat is wet too. Thanks, Buddy! We’ll call you later.(maybe a comment like this shows how he was struggling)

Me: wait wait wait

Listen to this…

I’m not really a writer, but I want to write something to you.

I noticed you the two times you noticed me before tonight. I like your hair. I like your smile. I like the way you look at me. I like your eyes.

I feel like I could walk into a 24 hour diner and talk to you for 36 hours.

Tonight there was a pull. I didn’t know there would be further conversation. You had me reeled before the guy with his hat on backwards left. Then one guy weirded you out by asking you where you live. He left the scene. You came over to talk to me.

I couldn’t stop looking at you.

I didn’t want to stop talking to you.

I tried taking you to those metal chairs, and table, in front of the health food store. You accepted. It was nice for a few minutes. A local bar closing slamming the glass bottles around fucked that up. I asked you to go some place else.

I am not religious at all. I was all but praying that that area between those buildings would be fully lit. Otherwise it was just a dark alley. I was afraid that I was leading you to a dark area after being weirded out by that other guy. I offered you my arm as we walked up some steps. You said “I don’t need that. I wear leather pants. I’m going to buy another motorcycle tomorrow!”

It was fully lit, and you looked radiant!

That might be one of the best conversations I’ve had in my life.

You seem magical

I don’t know this to be true, but I like to think it is. 

867-5309

In numerical order is 0356789

The zero, and the missing 4, is what keeps it from being 3456789

I’m convinced this song started out at as 867-5349…After a few performances, they started dropping the R at the end of Four. It became Eight Six Seven Five Three Fo Nine…

Which led to Eight Six Seven Five Three O Nine 

My father was in ICU. His Doctor had a question. 

She politely asked me to an unoccupied room. 

Dr: Does he have a DNR?

Me: No, fucking save him!

Dr: He’s 91 years old and has had open heart surgery. Do you realize what chest compressions would do to him?

Me: No, I hadn’t considered that. Would it hurt him?  Would he feel it?

Dr: His ribs could break and puncture his lungs. Yes, he would feel pain. Even if he survived it, he would probably be on life support. 

No one had ever taken the time to explain this to me. This wasn’t his first time in the hospital. She went further out of the way than any other doctor. I appreciated it. 

I wanted to thank her. 

I asked a friend for her phone number. 

Then I added a video for 867-5309. Jenny Jenny 

Jenny is the doctor’s name. 

She is why I thought of this. 

He lived nearly 3 more years.

I love you like the first morning I’ve ever seen. Your presence makes me want to enter this world.

You know that I love you from the top of your head down to your toe.

You melt me with a smile.

The most beautiful thing I know on this earth is you.

I cried when I wrote that.

I cried when I read that.

I can’t cry on command.

I cry when something is beautiful. I cry when something touches me.

You’re beautiful.

You used to touch me. You still do.

I think that was a little much.

I think I crossed a boundary.

Honestly though, I know no boundary with you.

I’ve never run out of gas. Ever. I bet you didn’t know this about me. My life is at least half over, I’ve been a driver for over half of what’s past, and I’ve yet to allow this to happen. It’s things like this that remind me how awesome I am compared to everyone else.

I wondered if that is what happened to this guy I saw working under the hood of his car, as traffic built up behind him, at the intersection of 52 and Main in Albemarle. Here this poor bastard was stuck in traffic, and none of these assholes were stopping to help him!…Do you believe in karma?  I don’t. Well, it’s not that I don’t. I just don’t think about it. I don’t preface acts that I commit with thoughts of their repercussions, let alone think of doing things today that may reward me in the future. I’m too caught up in the moment for that…So I pull into Quick Check’s parking lot so I can help this guy push his car out of the way. As I’m running through the brief opening in traffic, a state trooper pulls in front of the guy’s car. I then notice the guy appears to be Latino. I think “oh no, he might not have an ID. Did I just profile him?  Shit, I’m a racist. Great, there’s something else to work on!Wait he’s young. He probably has a license. Hopefully it doesn’t come up”🤞🏻
The trooper asks me if I’m coming to help push. I say that I am, and he puts on his lights and blocks traffic for us to get this car out of the way.

A few days later, I’m stopped at the intersection at 52 and 24-27. I notice I’m on empty. I motion for the guy beside me to let me go in front of him. He agrees and my car shuts off before I can move.

I had run out of gas!

😔Guess I’m not so great after all.

What was I going to do now?  Traffic wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t optimal for Flintstone gear. Then I hear a familiar voice asking me if I needed help pushing my car. Guess who it was. The kid I helped days before?  No, but how cool would that have been?! It was Desi!  What, you don’t know him?  Anyway…we start to push, a police officer stops to block traffic, I get gas and all is well. What a coincidence! Or was it?  Spooky music begins.