According to Sam and Jim Commenting on things that irk us off, make us laugh out loud or just seem too weird too believe According to Sam and Jim: Happy Birthday to My Bud!

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Happy Birthday to My Bud!

Happy Birthday to Jim. Happy Birthday to Jim. Happy birthday dear J-i-i-im. Happy birthday to you.

Hi! Sam here. I’m writing the blog posting today because it’s my birthday present to Jim. I’m giving him the day off. Cool huh? I don’t know how old Jim is, but I do know if his age were dog years he’d be dead. I’m glad he isn’t dead though, because he feeds me good treats. I’m particularly fond of cookies.

Jim is a multi-faceted person. If he were a wine, I’d say he was about a $20 dollar vintage, somewhat complex with a sophistication born of triumphing over evil and adversity, with just a hint of the old Italian raspberry.

Jim has worked since he was 10 years old, starting out with a paper route. He was a grocery clerk while in high school and college. In rapid succession, he worked in a sawmill, for the U.S. Post Office, and as a collections agent for a finance company. At age 22, he became a California Highway Patrol officer and raced up and down the highways and byways ticketing people, arresting bad guys and extricating dead bodies from crashes. Eight years later he was more ready to explore something new and got into real estate. He realized he really didn’t like telling people what to do. He thought people should obey the law without him forcing them to.

Jim had been dabbling in freelance writing for a few years (without much success) when he sold a house to a sports columnist for the Vancouver Sun. He decided then to go back to college and obtain a degree in journalism. He worked for newspapers and magazines (mostly small local rags) for several years then I tried freelance writing again and had some modest success, but, nearly starved to death.

Jim and Kathleen subsequently published a newspaper for three years and even though they didn’t starve, the experience nearly ruined Jim’s health. Jim finally gave up the glamour quest and took a job as a right-of-way agent (real estate) with the Washington State Department of Transportation then he was hired to be the real estate manager for Whatcom County Public Works in Bellingham, where he met me.

Jim’s emotional makeup ranges from wild and crazy guy to stalwart stuffed shirt. Steve Martin is his hero. His mother rebelled against her Roman Catholic upbringing, but he loves the Roman Catholic Church and the liturgy. He likes getting down on his knees and praying for forgiveness and receiving communion and starting his new week with a slug of wine and a clean slate. But he’s not a religious nut. He says, “You believe what you want to believe and I’ll do the same.”

Jim has adopted the personal motto of “be kind, give hope.” But he can be a growly bear sometimes. He has a plaque hanging over his desk that says, “I wish I was a bear. Everyone would expect me to have hairy legs, excess body fat and wake up growling.” I love that! But give him a cup of coffee or two and a chocolate donut and he’s soon purring like a pussycat.

The thing I really like about Jim is that he likes to have fun. It’s way too easy to become deadly serious about life. Fortunately, he’s not like that. The first time I met him I was in a crate with my three brothers who were horsing around, but I sat up and listened to Jim talk to my breeder because I liked the sound of his voice (he could be a broadcaster) and there was something in his manner that suggested he would be a pretty good guy. And I was right. Happy birthday Jim. I love ya’ man and that’s no poop.

No comments:

Post a Comment