Last night I went to NFL.com to get the current news around the league. Then I went to the official web sites of the Indianapolis Colts and the Chicago Bears to find out how the teams will be preparing for the Super Bowl. I then visited the web site for my favorite team, the Cleveland Browns.

All the current news items on the Browns web site were stories about the upcoming Senior Bowl. This is a end-of-the-year college all-star game that scouts from the NFL teams attend. As a matter of fact, the North and South squads are coached by staffs from two NFL teams.

As I was reading about the Senior Bowl, it started to depress me. Here are two teams playing for the championship. Their season is not over yet. One more game, and winner takes all. And here is my team who finished with a 4-12 record, and the only thing the Browns look forward to is a selection in the top five picks for the NFL Draft.

All I have to say to the scouts from the Cleveland Browns is this:

Take good notes while watching the Senior Bowl.

Here I am sitting in the computer lab at work functioning on five-and-a-half hours of sleep after having to listen to a fellow co-worker complain about the same thing he complained about on Friday afternoon, and I come to the realization that I have not had coffee yet.

Why am I even listening to this? I haven't had coffee yet. Where's a mute button when you need one? Why are we not talking about the Indianapolis Colts playing the Chicago Bears in the Super Bowl in two weeks?

As much as I like the New England Patriots and the New Orleans Saints, I am glad to see a Colts-Bears match-up. I have always liked Tony Dungy, and I am glad to see his team finally get to the Super Bowl. As for the Bears, my friend Coach is a big Bears fan. I am really happy for him. At least he gets to see his team make it to the Super Bowl.

As for my team, the Cleveland Browns, making the Super Bowl? I'm not holding my breath. I will talk to my friend Coach later today when I get home.

As for my friend from work who is always complaining, I will have to talk to him later today as well. And he will be complaining about the same thing. And then he wonders why I never call him on our days off.

Where's that remote control with the mute button when you need it? Just shut up and go to work!

And if you are a big fan of the Colts or the Bears, then you have my congratulations.

Now if you excuse me, I am going to make coffee. I really need it.

But the game was worth sitting up late for.

I have two brothers I do not talk to. One brother always beated me up whenever he got drunk because I always had things "easy". Or so he said. The other brother treated me like I was a moron and thought that my place in the family was to serve him and the rest of the family. And that I was suppose to be seen and not heard. And if I did say something, it was all right to hit me with his fist.

The brother who always beat me up was jealous because I had a good relationship with my father, whereas he did not. It seemed to me,however, that my brother made things miserable for the family. But most of his rage was aimed towards me and my father.

I moved to Florida with my parents while I was attending college. One of the reasons I moved here was to get away from my brother who always beat me up. A few years later, the two came down for a visit. And sure enough, the one beat me up while the other called me things like "asshole" and "cocksucker" anbd then told me that my brother had every right to beat me up since I always had it easier than they did.

I never thought of fighting back because of the coward that I was. The little brother with no self esteem.

I stayed in Florida to be with Mom and Dad in case they needed me. These two said that I stayed here to take advantage of Mom and Dad. When Dad passed away, I stayed here to take care of Mom. The brother who beat me up all the time was imprisoned for manufacturing crack and selling it. My other brother was no where around. And when Mom's condition became worse, he was still nowhere around.

When it came time to put Mom in a home because of her dementia, we had to sell everything and put the money in Mom's estate so that she could be taken care of. My brother had this idea that we would keep the condo and that I would take care of it so that he could vacation here. That is when my oldest brother stepped in, since he had the guardianship over Mom and straightened things out.

To this day, I have nothing but total respect for my oldest brother. And I will thank him for giving me my self esteem back. And I owe him much, since he and my sister were there to help me when Mom's condition became worse.

It has been ten years since I have spoken to my brother who would beat me up in my earlier years. I told him that if he so much as came around my residence and attempt to do any bodily harm, I would throw him back in prison so fast it would make his head spin.

Why do I bring this up. A few days before Christmas, I received an e-mail from the wife of my other brother. I have not talked to him in about five years. She wrote in the e-mail that they did not have my address, and that they wanted to send me a Christmas card.

Why now? Why after all these years do you want to send me a card? You tell people that I am mentally retarded, you see me as a "servant", and you say that my other brother has a right not only to belittle me, but a right take all of his frustrations out on me?
When I talked to the police about this, they said that it was assault and battery and I could press charges. And you want to send me a FUCKING card?!


I read a poem earlier this morning that someone wrote on Blogstream about someone having dementia. I should send a copy of that poem to my brother so he could maybe understand what it was like for Mom.

Some people say that time heals all wounds, and that life is too short, so it is best to forgive.

Sorry folks, but I will never be able to forgive those two brothers of mine.

Keep the Christmas card.

For Christmas, I bought everyone in my family gift cards from Best Buy. Why not? Everyone I know has a CD, DVD, or video game that they would like to have. And it seems like everyone can use something for their computer.

I gave a gift card to my nephew, age 9, and I gave a gift card to my niece, age 4. I figured that they would want a DVD or computer game.

When I was in Atlanta for Thanksgiving, my nephew told me that one of the things he wanted for Christmas was a Nintendo Wii (pronounced "we"). I knew that my brother would buy him one for Christmas, so I figured that my nephew could use the gift card towards a game for his new Wii. Long story short, my brother and my sister-in-law could not find a Wii anywhere, and that they would look for one after Christmas.

My nephew and my niece then decided that they are going to put their gift cards together and go in on a Wii, and my brother would pay for the difference. No problem, I thought to myself. They can put the gift cards toward something they really want, and they can play on the game system together. That's nice.

Well, I talked to my nephew yesterday. Still no Wii. My sister-in-law told me that he calls practically everyday, and he is told something different every time he calls.

"There are no Wii game systems in." "There will be some in this week." "No,we can't hold any game systems for anybody." My brother has even stopped in at several other electronic stores in the Atlanta area, and not one store has any in stock.

It makes me mad that the company that manufactures these game systems release only so many of these systems for distribution when the demand is much higher. Then after release, the game system is recalled because of a flaw in the design. My nephew had his heart set on one of these, as well as my niece.

I know they will have to learn that they cannot always get what they want, and that things don't go as expected. Especially when it comes to a certain item that happens to be the most popular gift for the Christmas season.

But I also know that there is some adult out there who was able to get a Wii at the retail price and is trying to sell it online for three times the original price.

To that person, I say "Shame on you." It was meant for children to play with. And unfortunately, someone out there will pay that high price so their child can have it.

I hope one day, my nephew calls Best Buy and is told that there are some Wii in stock. Then my nephew and niece can play with something together.

And maybe teach their uncle how to play.

One resolution I have this New Year is to try to get back into doing some art work. I have not thrown any pottery or picked up an artist pencil in years.

In November, I ran into an old friend of mine named Kevin. He works at the pottery studio a few days a week. The department I work for, Recreation, has a pottery studio complete with potter's wheels, slab rollers, electric kilns, and even a gas kiln.

The studio is open to the public, and anyone can sign up for a thirteen week session. And if they have never thrown any pottery, there are instructors available. Such as my friend Kevin, who wants me to return to the studio and throw pottery again since I was so good. That's his words, not mine.

I told him that I was tired of throwing bowls perfect for serving cat food or saving pennies in, and that I was mad because I could never throw a vase. Kevin told me to come down to the studio, and we could work on learning how to throw a vase.

Anyway, sometime later on, my supervisor learns that I threw pottery on the potter's wheel many years ago. She then approaches me of the idea of teaching pottery to children in the after school program. I have given this some thought, and I would have to go back to the studio and get back into practice. It's kind of like riding a bicycle and sex. Once you learn how to do it, you don't forget how to do it.

So, as of next week, I will be going back to the pottery studio and throw pottery on the potter's wheel. Then sometime in February/March, we will have a pottery class for the children in the after school program.

As I write this, I look around at the white walls of the Arts and Crafts Room, knowing that it will soon be covered in terra cotta. And I'm not talking about paint, either.