The Worst Day of Frank Cumby's Life...chapter 2

Sometimes, it’s the small things in life that cause us the most pain. Maybe it’s because those things are so small that we find it easy to ignore them, not realizing those little things will pile up and one day change who we are.

For example, one day Frank was running late for work. This was years before he landed his crappy job at Happy Place Toys. Before that, he had worked at the local paper, writing trite articles about local politicians and award winning squash plants. But Frank took his job seriously, ensuring that his readers got the very best articles on freakishly giant squash and disturbingly short politicians. After a few years, Frank’s dream came true and he was offered a job as an editor for Life and Music Today, a classy magazine based in Frank’s hometown of Manchester, Tennessee. Frank never had any musical talent, but he had an oddly strong connection to music. It made him feel alive. So Frank was one of those rare guys who could actually tell you that he loved his job, and you knew he meant it. But on one particular Wednesday, Frank was distracted and hurried. Perhaps due to his distractedness, Frank ran over a cat. It was probably a stray, but Frank felt terrible. What if the cat belonged to some kid? After all, Frank was about to be a dad, and he was always extra sensitive about these kinds of things. He felt so bad that he decided to call his wife, Angela. Normally, Angela would have comforted Frank, telling him it wasn’t his fault and that he was a good man. This time, possibly thanks to the pregnancy playing cruel games with her emotions, Angela started crying and accused Frank of being careless. After that, Frank often thought twice before admitting anything he felt guilty about to his wife. It’s the little things that change us.

Or a better example might be that one Sunday after church, when Frank overheard sweet Mrs. Betty Dupree talking about how he must have a tight rope on his wife, because “you just never see poor Angela smiling”. Frank was hurt by this, and he wondered if everyone thought he wasn't good to his wife. In reality, Angela always felt blessed with Frank by her side. He treated her like the queen of a small country and never once really lost his cool with her, not the way most men do after spending a few years with the same woman. Angela was just more of a thinker than most the other young women at church, and thinkers don't smile as much, not on the outside anyways. Still, after Betty Dupree’s comments, Frank always felt awkward when people asked about his wife. He forgot why he felt awkward and eventually forgot about Betty's careless comments, but that little thing changed Frank.

However, dear reader, it was no little thing that created the Frank you have come to know. Heavens no, that took a very big thing indeed.

To be continued in chapter 3...

It's the Oscars!

Forget the Oscars…This is the:
"Year in Trevor’s Life" Awards!

2009 has come and gone, and now the time has come to award the people, events, and stuff in Trevor’s life from this past year. What is the purpose of these awards? Come on, it’s awards! Everyone loves awards.

*Please note, these awards may not actually cover the most important parts of Trevor's life from 2009. Think of it more as a grab bag filled with mostly inconsequential randomness.





Biggest surprise: Getting my own place before the end of the year….in Claremont?!

Biggest Letdown: Ramen noodles are not as nutritious as home cooked meals.

Best Television show from a past year: Arrested Development

Best Television show (current): Lost

Best source of random knowledge: Derek

Best partner in comedy, and crime: Johnny

Lead the flock (best pastor): Chuck

The one that ran away (best runner): Amy

Best author of actual books and not just stupid blogs like this one: Joyce

Most awkward in a social setting but getting good at it: Trevor

Best at eliciting a reaction of shock in a social setting: Johnny

Best excuse for being late for work: "It was snowing!"

Most disturbing comment: "I could eat a person before I could eat a rat."

Most prominent feeling of the year: Lethargy

Runner up for most prominent feeling of the year: Hope

Biggest source of disappointment: Good people using God as a weapon against those with a “smaller faith.”

Story least likely to be completed: Frank Cumby

Most likely to marry my brother: Casey

Best proof that my brother has always been the lucky one: Casey

Most likely to run a Marathon: Amy

Most likely to beat world 8 in Super Mario Brothers: Johnny and Trevor


Thank you to everyone who participated in life this year. May 2010 be a year to remember. It better be, because the world ends in 2012 anyways.

Frank Cumby says Hello...Not!

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While you, the patient readers, wait for the assuredly miserable chapter 2 of Frank Cumby's story, I (your sluggish author) thought you might want to know what Frank was up to last week. So here it is:

Monday: Frank went in to work (at 8:03 of course) and grumbled aloud at what a real dump the building was, and how most the machinery wouldn't pass code in Mexico, much less here in the U.S. of A.

Tuesday: Frank went in to work and complained about his turkey sandwich. If the grocery stores weren't owned by the terrorists he could have afforded roast beef.

Wednesday: Wednesday was so insignificant that no one remembers what Frank did that day.

Thursday: Frank went in to work and lost his concentration when thinking about how much he hated being there, thereby sewing the heads of 346 Care Bear dolls onto the bodies of 346 "Super Military Action" G.I. Joe dolls,complete with assault rifles and bayonets. Many children will be paralyzed with fear as a result.

Friday: Frank went in to work and thanked God it was Friday, then remembered he didn't believe in God. He promptly remembered that he didn't believe in anything else either.

Saturday-Sunday: Frank stayed inside.


Chapter 2 coming soon.

The Worst Day of Frank Cumby's Life

Dear Reader, the following is the first chapter of a short story about a man named Frank Cumby. If there is any demand for a continuation, Frank's story will be completed. If not, he will fade into obscurity, which is probably what Frank would want anyways. He's not a likeable guy, so we both understand if you want him to go away and never come back. Just know that Frank doesn't like you either. Not one little bit.

Chapter 1

Frank Cumby hated his life. He hated every awful second of it. Frank was fifty-two years old but felt twice that, just based on the number of crappy years he could remember. He was always disappointed when he went to bed at night but was way more disappointed when he woke up. Frank had no friends and no family, at least none he ever wanted to see again. His wife had left him years ago. He treated his neighbors like crap, and he treated his coworkers like crap. Frank even found little ways to make sure his pets weren't all that happy. He fed his cat dog food and fed his dog cat food. He fed his goldfish Goldfish snack crackers just for the sick irony. Frank worked in a factory where they had lots of extra packaging material, so every day when he got home from work, he tossed out those little white foam peanuts in his lawn just to watch the birds peck at it and fly away disappointed.

Frank's most despicable habit was throwing empty beer cans at the neighborhood kids who were dumb enough to get within throwing range, and Frank didn’t even drink beer. He just preferred empty beer cans for throwing because they made the stickiest mess when they popped a kid right in back of the head. He knew the little yard apes would go home crying with sticky beer in their hair. He liked to think that the children's parents would say something like: “You smell like a common street drunk! Go to bed without supper and you're grounded for a year and your father will always be disappointed in you.” This was the one hobby that gave Frank a feeling of something close to inner joy. And yes, it was very much a hobby. Frank would pilfer through his drunk neighbor's recyclables several times a week just to get all the Busch and Budweiser ammunition he could find. He only took the cans that still had a little smelly beer left in the bottom. Frank was a mean old bastard.

Frank woke up at 7:21 every morning, which was the last possible minute he could wake up and still make it to his crappy job at “Happy Place Toys” by 8:03. Frank had learned many years ago that the punch-in clock only counted you late if you came in at 8:04 or later. Frank despised his job. He hated it more each of the twenty-one years he had been there. The only thing on this earth he disliked more than his job was children, and he made stupid children’s toys for a living. Well, he didn’t so much make them as just screw the head onto the “Super Turd Action Man” doll that was all the rage at the moment. Or maybe it was Tickle Me Elmo, who knows. It's not as if Frank cared.

But Frank had a secret. And it was a true secret because no person living within five hundred miles of Frank knew his secret. You see, Frank's life was not always a cesspool of filthy habits and bitterness and anger. Twenty-seven years ago, after four years of wonderful marriage to the woman he’d loved since he was old enough to go to the bathroom by himself, Frank found out he was going to be a daddy. He hoped it was a boy. Frank was always fond of the name Matthew. His son's name would be Matthew.

To be continued in Chapter 2…