Archive for December, 2010

The Worst Night of My Entire Life

I wish I could wake up and realize it was all just a dream. In fact, a day later, it doesn’t feel like 24 hours ago. It feels like 24 years ago. It’s a strange feeling. Perhaps everyone experiences it at some point in their life. In my life, I experienced it, for the first and hopefully the last time, last night. It started in the day time. I had to get to work. I usually drive, and it usually takes about 30-40 minutes. A blizzard warning was in effect. Nobody had any idea how bad it would be. I wish I listened to higher reasoning, because if I did, I would have saved everyone around a night of sleep, and I would have saved myself a night of horror that I never want to relive again. It was 11 o’clock at night when I got off work. I borrowed my father’s Range Rover because I knew it was powerful enough for the snow. Unfortunately for me, by the time I got out of work, the snow had accumulated to about 14 or 16 inches and didn’t stop until 7am. I drove back, but the bridges were closed. The roadways were closed. Cars were stuck in the snow. I tried to find an open route. I got stuck in the snow. A guy came over and helped dig me out. All I had were 20s on me, so I gave him one once he shoveled my car out. I went on my way. I took the long way home. The extremely long way home. I got back to Brooklyn from the city, and thought “gee, I might actually make it.” But more cars and buses were stuck in the snow, as it had accumulated even further by now.

The clock struck 1 am. Three hours on the road. At this point, there were snowed in cars in every which way. After about 45 minutes, a tiny road cleared and I made it out. The problem now was that I had an empty tank of gas. On this night, out of all nights, I was almost out of gas and was terrified at what would happen when the needle fell below 0. I drove as far as I could. But the roads were closed off further down. I turned around, in an attempt to go back and find another way. Then I hit my first real bump. I got stuck in the snow and could not get out. I shoveled snow for an hour and it didn’t help. Finally after some advice from my older brother, I got out. I was almost out of gas, and when a gentleman in another car promised he’d go to a gas station and get gas for us, I gave him my gas bucket. He never returned. I drove back with whatever little gas I had left and found another route. Then I hit my second bump, the biggest bump of the night. My gas tank was empty and I was finished. It was 3 am now. My car was stuck in the middle of the road, I was all alone and there was nobody around. My hands were frozen. My shoes soaked in ice. I went to a gas station nearby, but they conveniently were out of gas. A couple of religious Jews stopped, and I begged them to drive me to a gas station. They were worried they would get stuck if they made the trek to the gas station, but through a brief conversation we realized we had mutual acquaintances and decided to help me out. About 30 seconds later, they got stuck in the snow and abandoned their car. I got out and pleaded with the next car that came by, a young Hispanic in a big GMC truck, a powerful car. I begged him to drive me to the gas station and offered him $20 to do so. He obliged and drove, reverse (that was the only way to drive at this point, because u-turns were out of the question), all the way to the gas station. However, he couldn’t make it past a big roadblock so he stopped about two blocks away. I ran to the station, bought a two gallon bucket of gas, because that’s the biggest bucket they had, and walked back to the GMC, where Luis was still waiting for me. Thank God for him, because if he didn’t drive me to the station, I would have been stuck in the road the entire night. The snow did me in, but the empty gas tank was the real nail in the coffin. He drove me back to my car. I thanked him and asked him for his contact information because I felt he deserved more than a $20 bill for his help. He literally saved me.

My hands were frozen now. I couldn’t feel my feet either. My gloves were icicles. I saw another pair of gloves in the car, my mother’s. I took off the ice cubes from my fingers and put on the gloves. I started to regain feeling in my hands after about 30 minutes. My feet were still numb. The damn gas bucket was impossible to figure out. I felt so stupid, for a variety of reasons, but how could I not at least figure out how to siphon the damn gas into my tank? After an hour of fidgeting with it, I finally figured it out, no help from the ridiculous directions. Obviously what I got was only about a gallon and change out of it, not enough to get home, but enough to get to another gas station. A guy in a snow plow came by. I asked him to pave the road. He said he didn’t work for the city. He worked for himself. He worked for money. I had $1 on my person. I offered him $40 to clean the next couple of streets, just so I could get out. He obliged. Once he cleaned it, he approached me for the money. I told him I had no cash, but that I promised to send him the money if he gave me his contact info. I swore to God and all that was holy that I would do it, but it did not please him. He waved his hand in disgust and walked away. I drove down a cleaned street, until I reached another gas station. I got two gallons, emptied it into my tank, then got another two gallons, and emptied that too. Now I had enough to get home. I took a familiar avenue that I knew would be cleaned.

It was about 5 am now. I was driving fine for a few minutes and was close to home. Finally, I hit the last road block of the night. I was about three blocks from my home, and got stuck in a pit of snow, this time there was no getting out. I called for help, and my father, who didn’t sleep all night, made the trek to meet me. He brought a shovel and started digging out snow. I had no strength left. I felt like passing out. My feet were so numb and frozen, I got scared that I had caused permanent damage to them. We dug out snow for a half an hour. Finally, somehow, someway, we got out. We drove to a nearby gas station and filled up. I felt good being in the presence of someone familiar. I had been alone all night up until that point, utterly helpless. It was my doing, of course, and I acknowledge that. The utter stupidity it took to get to the point where I was was astounding to me. I had never felt so horrible in my life. It was around 6:30 am now. We filled up at the station and drove back. We left the car a few blocks from home, because some of the streets hadn’t been cleaned yet and it was impossible to get through. So we left the car at a bus stop, the only available spot to leave a parked car and walked back. There were dozens of cars just stranded in the middle of the road, abandoned by their drivers.

The snow had finally stopped. There was about two feet of it below us. I was so exhausted, I didn’t know it was possible to be this excruciatingly tired and out of energy. It was 7 am when we got back home. It took me eight hours. I felt a burning sensation in my foot. I took a bath, followed by a shower, followed by another bath, followed by another shower. I washed my hair several times. I washed my hands several times. I sat in the tub for 30 minutes, thinking of how ridiculous and insane it all was. I drank a hot cup of tea and went to bed. I kept thinking of the people who helped me. I massaged my face. I could still smell the gasoline on my fingers. I didn’t think I’d make it, but I was finally home.

I wonder what it all meant. The blizzard, the empty gas tank, the gas station that was out of gas, all the moments of being snowed in. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s just a sign of my arrogance and refusal to listen to better reasoning. Whatever it is, I’m glad I’m safe. I caused a lot of trouble for my family. I endured a hellish night. A living nightmare. I’ll hear about this for a long time. I deserve it though. I brought it on myself. It’s really unfair though, you know? People learn more from their mistakes and failures than from their successes. It’s the way life goes, I guess. Hm. I don’t think I have much more to say about this. I think I’ve said it all.


The problem is not that movies suck today

The problem is not that movies suck today but that the movie critics are the biggest morons that ever lived. At least before we had people with taste and sensibility. Nowadays, every critic is a clown on display to show us the latest tricks for us. They obviously have no taste in good movies and thats why so many crappy movies win oscars and rake in $500 million by its second week in the box office. People need something to talk about. Sometimes its politics, sometimes economy, sometimes global warming, or tennis lessons or kids or SOMETIMES, they talk about television and movies. And in 2008, the story of the year was a black president. Woo-hoo , yea we made progress, thats going to solve all the racial problems right? Its going to erase 300 years of slavery, right? Its going to equal things out now, right? Anyway in 2009, on everyone’s lips it was Avatar. Jim Cameron’s EPIC, long awaited return to cinema. Wow. Coloooorsssss.. Weeeeeeeeee. Give me a god damn break, for fucks sake. It was a cartoon! People spent $3 BILLION to see a fucking CARTOON masquerading as a big wondrous spectacle. The next wave of movies they said! Kiss my white ass you fuckers, you creeps, you nimrod’s. Avatar sucked dick. And the critics loved it and showered it with praise and people were too scared to go the other way because it was NEW and SHINY and would feel embarrassed to say no. Well… it’s alright to say no sometimes.

EDIT: You must also understand that the powers that run this country (and the world) are manipulating the masses through media, and that’s another reason why the quality of films is so poor the last decade. Its because the powerful men who run our nation are dumbing us down by feeding us the crappiest movies ever made.

A revelation!

I finally get it. I do! Yes! I know now. so, a guitarist will say, start strumming on his guitar one day, and the band is just sitting around ya know, just thinking, and uh, the guitarist starts his riff, and the drummer feels “it”, you know? He feels it “it” too and starts tapping his sticks and creates one of the most if not the most essential part of a song: a rhythm. And, that might just be one of the answers to life that we’ve all been looking for. And, funny enough, its been right there in front of us. Maybe that’s what God is. Something that when we die and look back, we’ll notice that he was always there, and we didnt see him. Sorry, I HATE to discuss religion openly because it ignites too, too many flares with people. But that thought popped into my head, I had to get it out.


Love is like a game of poker. some people wait and wait for a couple of aces to come along, that perfect man or woman. sometimes a person gets lucky, others dont and decide to take chances on lesser cards, like an 5-9 off suit, or a Jack-2 suited. some wait for the aces, and never get them and end up alone and broke. I’m waiting for aces. i should probably settle for the 5-9 off suit.

5 Favorite Songs

This is just mental masturbation but I can’t help it.







We (people) are all influenced by each other. We all look to one another for insight and inspiration. When you reach your 20s, you realize two things: one – you are no longer allowed to slack off because responsibility is now a real thing and not just a word you heard your parents throw around during your adolescent and teenage years. And two – there are lessons on life to be picked up every day. For example, imagine that throughout your life you’ve always thought and lived in one certain way. After years of meeting different people, experiencing different encounters and friendships and relationships, your mind thinks and works in a different manner now. You have utilized those experiences to change your personality to work for you, and not against you. On the one hand, it’s great, because you’ve matured. But on the other hand, you’ve just given up your right to be an individual because now you’re just like everyone else, because you’re acting like everyone else, you’re treating others the way you’ve been treated, and most people are not treated in a very moral manner. Of course, its all subjective, but that’s one thing I’ve learned so far.


Cigarettes are a social tool. They are a tool of death, but they are also a way to connect people. You go to a bar with 200 people partying and dancing and drinking, how do you get to know even one of these strangers? Simple: you go out for a cigarette, you ask someone for a light, and you’ve just made a new friend for the night. It’s quite amazing.