Buffa's Buffet: 5 things about me
Forget the other stuff. Let's update you about what's going on with the owner of this (Unforgiven voice) shithole.
What’s on my mind? A lot of things, actually.
Paying bills. Waking up tomorrow for work. I’m thinking about Friday night with my dad. We have a wild idea that centers around Uber, and that always makes the weekly hangout more entertaining. An idea plugs the Buffa brain into the outlet.
From there, roads are optional but laughs are necessary. There’s a lot on my mind, folks. Let’s get into it, but there’s a catch. This time, the buffet is all about me--things that aren’t ordinary, known, or even important.
But I get curious questions about certain things, and today I feel like answering some of them. Five to be exact. Let’s get started.
5) The jewels of being a part-time writer
It’s no secret that my output isn’t what it used to be. In a given month, I could write anywhere from 55 to 90 articles. From March-June in 2016, I averaged 70+ articles per month. How do I know this shit? I keep track of it like Charlie Hunnam’s character in the under-appreciated Netflix film, Triple Frontier. He kept track of all his kills, so I kept track of my articles. If you put something out into the world, put a tracking device on it.
These days, I only muster 20 articles in a given month. The full-time, physically taxing day job does beat into the midnight oil. In other words, most nights-and I’m counting weekends-this guy is snoozing by then. I’ve gotten old. Long story told short, there is less time in the time to write and that has lowered the mph on this guy’s output fastball.
I’m cool with it--less can be more. There were times where I felt like my hands went on vacation, and my mind was only halfway there at the keyboard. Shooting from the hip can be fun from both directions, receiving or throwing it out there, but it gets tiring. If you get an email from me, you know there was something to say. Like when Christopher Nolan decides to make a movie, but at a much lesser level of talent. We just have to do it.
4) Part-time film critic as well
Here’s the thing. I really like rewatching movies. Think of it like diving back into a pool with the perfect water temperature and sun coverage. No bugs, only paradise. You’d never leave.
This particular sector of my film-enjoyment division prohibits me from taking in the massive load of content these days. Even during a strike, I feel like I’m being blitzed. Right as I come down from the high of Oppenheimer and Barbie (yeah, it was actually brilliant), 3-4 more new movies are arriving.
Keeping up got too hard, so I started more about which films got my time. In the end, less was the answer. Think of it like the idea behind Jerry Maguire’s mission statement: less clients, more care. For me, it’s less movies and more care in them. Most of what I see gets an official, published online review. At the very least, a long social media post. (See my take on Barbie, Facebook friends.)
But going back to beloved classics, like David Mackenzie’s endlessly invigorating Hell or High Water or Cameron Crowe’s 1996 Tom Cruise-led gem. When you get those short evenings on the weekdays and don’t want to toss two hours down the craps table like dice, falling back on a sure option is the right call.
Sorry, most new films. I am not required to see anything that I feel doesn’t deserve my time. Watch what you want.
3) I’m a different kind of driver these days
Some things you just can’t outrun: dry skin, McDonald’s French fries, and Monday. But there’s also something about circling back to what you’re good at. It may be something you aren’t very fond of, but it’s a way to make money. That seems to make bill collectors very happy.
For me, driving is where I’ve made the most money in the past 5 years. What began as driving people around via Uber evolved to delivering food, and now it’s plumbing supplies. Five days a week, I drive a box truck all over St. Louis county, dropping off sinks and toilets. If you buy a toilet from Crescent Plumbing Supply and live west of 270, you’re getting me. My thoughts after five months of driving among STL drivers in morning traffic:
Thanks, Will.
The physical aspect is undeniable. You haven’t tested the willpower of your muscles until you pick up a 100 pound toilet. Pushing a skid of 50 gallon water heaters will wake the ligaments up, and the wrists aren’t exactly pleased by a cast iron tub being wheeled back onto the shoulders.
But being good at something is a surefire way to maintain a job in this current economy, especially if there’s a need for it. There’s still a real need for heavy plumbing supplies to be delivered to the front door of homes, shops, and large buildings. If you can drive and lift big stuff, there’s a need.
I’ll also be able to drive by Olive Crossing and Wildhorse Village, two monstrous construction sites that will yield apartments and businesses, and be able to say I brought all the plumbing. Enjoy your shitters, everyone. I’m tired.
2) Don’t trust me with fancy headphones
Story time. A few years ago, I received a wonderful gift from Apple TV Plus, a normal end of year merchandise delivery for viewing and reviewing their movies and shows. The gift was a pair of expensive AirPods, a new headphone device that I hadn’t yet tried due to the price.
Back in the day, a pair of corded headphones would set you back $15-20, and maybe closer to $50-75 for Apple ones. Now, the price starts at $65-75 and crosses over $100 before the quality catches up.
So, I used these things for a couple years. They work great, but only if the buds fit in your ears and don’t fall out. I subscribed to Apple Music, and love the mixes and collections of music they prepare for me. But it’s hard to enjoy the AirPods when you don’t have both of them.
I lost one of them on the first pair. After purchasing another pair for $100, I lost one of the pods recently. It’s easier done than said, because they’re so small and can bounce away pretty far if you lose track. The finder app only works if they are in your car or house. I’m a man with two pods that belong to two different sets of AirPods.
I have my shit together, but there’s still a part of me that won’t grow up.
1) Making people laugh is medicine
Making someone laugh can be the best medication, and it’s a special kind of feeling to really make someone crack up. The reward is even bigger if that person doesn’t laugh out loud a lot. Sometimes, though, you need to sacrifice your own body to make it happen.
This week, I took a hit to create a laugh. In our warehouse, there’s counter service for plumbers and contractors to walk in and buy a few things for a job without waiting for a truck to deliver it. In that same room is an old fashioned popcorn-making machine. Salty as fuck but rather tasty, I find myself at that post often.
So, there’s a Crescent staff veteran by the name of Paul, and you don’t fuck around with him. Quiet with newcomers and more fair than firm in his teaching methods, he knows everything about this company and the supplies that power it. More importantly, he knows where everything is in an unorganized and rather archaic warehouse. You could blindfold him and hand him an order, and he could pick it before you could check your email.
He doesn’t laugh a ton, as in outright lose your shit kind of laughter. After getting my popcorn and getting ready to leave, I dropped a kernel. Now, a swinging door sits right behind the popcorn machine cart. You bend over, and the door could swing back and knock you in the ass. With Paul sitting behind the counter and Nick approaching, I bent down to try and get the lost kernel.
It was a win/win. If I get it and stand up in time, nothing hits me in the ass. If it does, maybe Paul laughs and my big ass handles a shove. The latter happened. I leaned down and got a full serving of wood frame. It was perfect.
Paul immediately belly laughed. He did the thing where all activity stops, the upper body raises while the lower body comes off the ground. Full smile, decent laugh, and a mission accomplished.
Thanks for reading. Enjoy the weekend.
I loved reading all of this!!