WHERE'S WALDO? IN HOLLYWOOD (BOOK 4) LOCATIONS FOR WALDO, HIS FRIENDS, AND THEIR THINGS

This blog entry will catalogue the locations of the following persons and things in Book # 4 of the American re-released Waldo books called "WHERE'S WALDO? IN HOLLYWOOD" It is the book seen here:
http://www.amazon.com/Wheres-Waldo-Hollywood-Martin-Handford/dp/0763635014/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1362348259&sr=8-1&keywords=waldo+hollywood


The format will be to list the page, its descriptor, and then each of the following with their respective locations:

WALDO
WENDA
ODLAW
WIZARD WHITEBEARD (WIZARD)
WOOF
SCROLL
BONE
KEY
CAMERA
BINOCULARS
FILM


Directions are as accurate as possible but please allow some leeway when it comes to the cardinal direction that you will be following. In other words, WNW might actually be NNW if you were following it exactly; the directions were my best guesses without actually using a compass.

Please note the following legend that will be used in this entry:

BLURB (refers to the Director's Board that appears on the upper-left corner of every left page)
N, S, E, W (refer to North, South, East, West)
LLC/LRC (refer to Lower Left Corner and Lower Right Corner)
ULC/URC (refer to Upper Left Corner and Upper Right Corner)
LPG (left page)
RPG or RTPG (right page)
BCE/TCE (refer to Bottom Center Edge or Top Center Edge of page. Go along the respective edge to the middle of the page.)
Crease (the crease that separates the left and right pages)


If you have any questions about the location of a particular character/item or if you found this to be a useful resource, please drop a comment and let me know!

And if you happen to be interested in supernatural thrillers and speculative fiction please check out my official website here: http://www.matthewjohnbenecke.com/. You can find my debut novels, The Lion in the Desert and The Walking Ghosts on Amazon.com at the following links:

The Lion In The Desert

The Walking Ghosts

PAGE 1 A DREAM COME TRUE

WALDO                     2in NNW of LRC of RPG

WENDA                     1in ENE of BINOCULARS

ODLAW                     3.25in ENE of CAMERA

WIZARD                    1in NW of BONE

WOOF                        3.25in N of SCROLL

SCROLL                    3.5in N, slightly W of CREASE BOTTOM

BONE                         2in SSW of URC of RPG

KEY                            5.5in W, slightly N of WIZARD

CAMERA                   1.5in NE of LLC of LPG

BINOCULARS          2.5in NE of SCROLL

FILM                          1in NE of LRC of BLURB

PAGE 2 SHHH! THIS IS A SILENT MOVIE

WALDO                     1.5in SSW of BINOCULARS

WENDA                     3in ENE of BINOCULARS

ODLAW                     1.5in NE of WOOF

WIZARD                    5in N, 1in W of FILM

WOOF                         3in N, 0.5in E of WENDA

SCROLL                    3in WNW of LRC of RPG

BONE                         3.25in N, 0.5in E of WALDO

KEY                            1in NW of CREASE BOTTOM

CAMERA                   2in NE of SCROLL

BINOCULARS          4.5in NNE of LLC of LPG

FILM                          3.25in NW of CAMERA

PAGE 3 HORSEPLAY IN TROY

WALDO                     3.5in NE of LLC of LPG

WENDA                     3.5in N of BCE of RPG

ODLAW                     2.25in E, 0.5in S of WENDA

WIZARD                    0.75in SE of URC of BLURB

WOOF                        1.25in NNW of BONE

SCROLL                    2in NW of BCE of RPG

BONE                         1.75in N, 0.5in W of SCROLL (VERY hard to see)

KEY                            1.75in W, slightly S of WALDO (VERY hard to see)

CAMERA                   4in S of LRC of BLURB

BINOCULARS          2.5in ENE of WENDA

FILM                          0.75in SSW of WALDO

PAGE 4 FUN IN THE FOREIGN LEGION

WALDO                     2in SE of LLC of BLURB

WENDA                     1.5in N, slightly W of BCE of RPG

ODLAW                     5.25in NW of WENDA (left of ice cream truck)

WIZARD                    1.25in ESE of URC of BLURB

WOOF                        1.5in WNW of FILM

SCROLL                    1.5in SW of WENDA

BONE                         2.75in S of FILM (below soldier’s hand)

KEY                            2.5in NW of LRC of RPG (below light blue guy)

CAMERA                   3in W of RCE of RPG

BINOCULARS          3.75in NE of WENDA

FILM                          1.5in WSW of ODLAW

PAGE 5 A TREMENDOUS SONG AND DANCE

WALDO                     2.5in N of LRC of RPG

WENDA                     5in N of WALDO

ODLAW                     2in W of KEY

WIZARD                    5in WNW of WENDA

WOOF                        2in SW of WIZARD

SCROLL                    1.25in ENE of CREASE BOTTOM

BONE                         1.25in ENE of LRC of BLURB

KEY                            3in NW of BINOCULARS (beneath saxophone)

CAMERA                   2.5in N of KEY

BINOCULARS          1.5in N of BCE of LPG

FILM                          1.75in WSW of WALDO

PAGE 6 ALI BABA AND THE FORTY THIEVES

WALDO                     4in WSW of ODLAW

WENDA                     3.5in SW of URC of RPG

ODLAW                     4.25in S, 1.25in E of WENDA

WIZARD                    2.25in W of CAMERA

WOOF                        2in NNW of BINOCULARS

SCROLL                    3.5in WNW of LRC of RPG

BONE                         2.25in N, 0.5in E of WALDO

KEY                            1.5in NW of WOOF

CAMERA                   1.75in W of KEY

BINOCULARS          2in NNW of CREASE BOTTOM

FILM                          3.5in WNW of SCROLL

PAGE 7 THE WILD, WILD WEST

WALDO                     1.5in W of RCE of RPG

WENDA                     2in SW of LRC of BLURB

ODLAW                     2in WNW of BONE (in jail)

WIZARD                    5in NNW of WALDO

WOOF                        1in NE of BCE of LPG

SCROLL                    2in SW of ODLAW

BONE                         2in NW of WOOF

KEY                            2in NNW of WALDO

CAMERA                   1.5in NNW of LRC of RPG

BINOCULARS          4in NE of BONE

FILM                          1in N of BCE of RPG

PAGE 8 THE SWASHBUCKLING MUSKETEERS

WALDO                     1in E of FILM

WENDA                     3in N, 0.5in W of FILM

ODLAW                     2in NW of BINOCULARS

WIZARD                    4.75in N of CAMERA

WOOF                        4in ENE of LLC of LPG

SCROLL                    3.25in W of WIZARD (his hat)

BONE                         2in NW of WOOF

KEY                            2in N, 0.5in E of BCE of RPG

CAMERA                   3.25in NE of KEY

BINOCULARS          4.75in N, 1in E of WOOF

FILM                          2.25in N, slightly W of CREASE BOTTOM

PAGE 9 DINOSAURS, SPACEMEN, AND GHOULS

WALDO                     3in N, slightly E of CAMERA

WENDA                     1.75in W, slightly S of WALDO

ODLAW                     1in E of LCE of LPG

WIZARD                    3.5in SW of WENDA

WOOF                        1.5in NE of BCE of RPG

SCROLL                    3in E of ODLAW

BONE                         4.75in SSE of ODLAW (dressing room table)

KEY                            1in N of FILM

CAMERA                   2in NE of WOOF

BINOCULARS          1.5in E of BONE

FILM                          1in NNW of WIZARD

PAGE 10 ROBIN HOOD’S MERRY MESS-UP

WALDO                     3in NNE of BONE

WENDA                     5.75in NNE of WALDO

ODLAW                     3.5in SW of WIZARD

WIZARD                    5in NW of WALDO

WOOF                        2in S of LRC of BLURB

SCROLL                    1in NW of LRC of RPG

BONE                         1.25in ESE of KEY

KEY                            1.5in NNW of CREASE BOTTOM

CAMERA                   2.25in ENE of LLC of LPG

BINOCULARS          2in ENE of BCE of RPG

FILM                          1.5in ENE of LRC of BLURB

PAGE 11 WHEN THE STARS COME OUT

WALDO                     3.5in N of WIZARD

WENDA                     1.75in NNE of ODLAW

ODLAW                     1in NNW of BINOCULARS

WIZARD                    1.5in E of KEY

WOOF                        3.25in E, slightly N of WIZARD (in white limo)

SCROLL                    3.5in NNE of ODLAW

BONE                         1in NW of BCE of RPG

KEY                            0.75in ESE of WENDA

CAMERA                   3in NW of ODLAW

BINOCULARS          2in NE of CREASE BOTTOM

FILM                          3.5in NW of CAMERA

PAGE 12 WHERE’S WALDO? THE MUSICAL

WALDO                     4.75in N, 0.5in W of the top of the WIZARD’s hat (has a bone in hand)

WENDA                     2in NW of WOOF (wearing CAMERA)

ODLAW                     2^nd ODLAW left of CREASE (holding walking stick)

WIZARD                    3in NNE of SCROLL (playing violin)

WOOF                        4in NNW of KEY (top of staircase)

SCROLL                    0.75in ENE of CREASE BOTTOM

BONE                         2.25in W, slightly N of BINOCULARS

KEY                            0.5in NW of FILM

CAMERA                   ON WENDA

BINOCULARS          1.25in N, slightly E of BCE of LPG

FILM                          2.25in NW of LRC of RPG

WHERE'S WALDO? THE FANTASTIC JOURNEY (BOOK 3) LOCATIONS FOR WALDO, HIS FRIENDS, AND THEIR THINGS

This blog entry will catalogue the locations of the following persons and things in Book # 3 of the American re-released Waldo books called "WHERE'S WALDO? THE FANTASTIC JOURNEY"  It is the "YELLOW" covered book seen here:

http://www.amazon.com/Wheres-Waldo-The-Fantastic-Journey/dp/0763635006/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1362257537&sr=8-1&keywords=waldo+fantastic+journey

The format will be to list the page, its descriptor, and then each of the following with their respective locations:

WALDO
WENDA
ODLAW
WIZARD WHITEBEARD (WIZARD)
WOOF
SCROLL
BONE
KEY
CAMERA
BINOCULARS


Directions are as accurate as possible but please allow some leeway when it comes to the cardinal direction that you will be following.  In other words, WNW might actually be NNW if you were following it exactly; the directions were my best guesses without actually using a compass.

Please note the following legend that will be used in this entry:

BLURB SCROLL (refers to the Scroll that appears on the upper-left corner of every left page)
N, S, E, W (refer to North, South, East, West)
LLC/LRC (refer to Lower Left Corner and Lower Right Corner)
ULC/URC (refer to Upper Left Corner and Upper Right Corner)
LPG (left page)
RPG or RTPG (right page)
BCE/TCE  (refer to Bottom Center Edge or Top Center Edge of page.  Go along the respective edge to the middle of the page.)
Crease (the crease that separates the left and right pages)


If you have any questions about the location of a particular character/item or if you found this to be a useful resource, please drop a comment and let me know!

And if you happen to be interested in supernatural thrillers and speculative fiction please check out my official website here: http://www.matthewjohnbenecke.com/. You can find my debut novels, The Lion in the Desert and The Walking Ghosts on Amazon.com at the following links:

The Lion In The Desert

The Walking Ghosts

PAGE 1 THE GOBBLING GLUTTONS

WALDO                     2in N of SCROLL

WENDA                     3.5in W of WALDO

ODLAW                     3.5in S of WENDA

WIZARD                    3in NW of LRC of RPG

WOOF                        0.5in NE of BONE

SCROLL                    2in NW of BONE

BONE                         2.5in N of KEY

KEY                            3.5in W of WIZARD's face

CAMERA                   2in S of ODLAW

BINOCULARS          4in N of top of WIZARD's staff

PAGE 2 THE BATTLING MONKS

WALDO                     3in NNE of ODLAW

WENDA                     4in N, 1.5in E of CAMERA

ODLAW                     4.5in NW of BINOCULARS

WIZARD                    5in ENE of WENDA

WOOF                        1.5in NNE of BINOCULARS

GREEN SCROLL      1in ESE of WENDA

BONE                         2.5in WNW of BINOCULARS

KEY                            0.5in NNW of BCE of RPG

CAMERA                   2.75in NE of BOTTOM OF CREASE

BINOCULARS          1.25in N of BCE of LPG

PAGE 3 THE CARPET FLYERS

WALDO                     1in E, 3in N of BINOCULARS

WENDA                     4in ENE of ODLAW

ODLAW                     5in ESE of WIZARD

WIZARD                    1in E of LRC of BLURB SCROLL

WOOF                        1.25in NE of BCE of LPG

BLUE SCROLL         4.25in E, slightly S of KEY

BONE                         1.25in WNW of WOOF (on stairs)

KEY                            2in NNW of BCE of RPG

CAMERA                   4.5in W, 1.5in N of WOOF

BINOCULARS          1in ESE of WOOF

PAGE 4 THE GREAT BALLGAME PLAYERS

WALDO                     4in N, 0.5in E of ODLAW

WENDA                     2.5in S, 0.5in E of WOOF

ODLAW                     3in N of BCE of RPG

WIZARD                    3.5in SSE of BINOCULARS

WOOF                        3in S of LLC of BLURB SCROLL

PINK SCROLL          1in S of WENDA

BONE                         3in E of WOOF

KEY                            3in SE of ODLAW

CAMERA                   4in NE of WALDO

BINOCULARS          1in S of LRC of BLURB SCROLL

PAGE 5 THE FEROCIOUS RED DWARFS

WALDO                     2.5in SE of TOP OF CREASE

WENDA                     2.5in S, 0.75in W of URC of RPG

ODLAW                     4in E, 1in S of CAMERA

WIZARD                    4in ENE of YELLOW SCROLL

WOOF                        2in SW of ODLAW

YELLOW SCROLL  2in S, 0.75in W of KEY

BONE                         3.5in SW of WOOF

KEY                            2in S, 0.25in E of BINOCULARS

CAMERA                   3.5in SE of LLC of BLURB SCROLL

BINOCULARS          5in S, 0.75in E of WALDO

PAGE 6 THE NASTY NASTIES

WALDO                     3in N, slightly W of BCE of LPG

WENDA                     3.5in NE of WIZARD

ODLAW                     3.5in ENE of WENDA

WIZARD                    5in NE of WALDO

WOOF                        1.5in SSW of BONE

BROWN SCROLL    2.5in W of BINOCULARS

BONE                         2.5in E, slightly S of ODLAW

KEY                            1.5in W of WALDO

CAMERA                   1.5in S, slightly E of WALDO

BINOCULARS          4in NW of LRC of RPG

PAGE 7 THE FIGHTING FORESTERS

WALDO                     5in NNW of KEY

WENDA                     4in NNW of BOTTOM of CREASE

ODLAW                     0.5in SSW of KEY

WIZARD                    6.5in E of WALDO

WOOF                        1.25in NNE of ORANGE SCROLL

ORANGE SCROLL  1.5in NE of LLC of LPG

BONE                         3.5in E, slightly S of ORANGE SCROLL

KEY                            2.25in NNE of CAMERA (on stone)

CAMERA                   5.25in ESE of WENDA

BINOCULARS          1.5in SW of WENDA

PAGE 8 THE DEEP-SEA DIVERS

WALDO                     3in ENE of WENDA

WENDA                     4in E, 0.5in S of ODLAW

ODLAW                     0.5in E of BLURB SCROLL CENTER

WIZARD                    2.5in E, slightly N of WALDO

WOOF                        3.5in SE of WIZARD (hanging over side of boat)

PURPLE SCROLL    2.75in SW of BINOCULARS

BONE                         0.75in S of WIZARD

KEY                            2.5in E, 0.5in S of PURPLE SCROLL

CAMERA                   1in NNE of ODLAW

BINOCULARS          3.5in NNW of BCE of LPG

PAGE 9 THE KNIGHTS OF THE MAGIC FLAG

WALDO                     4.5in SE of KEY

WENDA                     5in NW of LRC OF RPG

ODLAW                     3.5in WSW of WALDO

WIZARD                    3.5in E of URC of BLURB SCROLL

WOOF                        2in NW of BINOCULARS

SILVER SCROLL     4.5in W, 0.75in S of WENDA

BONE                         1in ENE of WOOF

KEY                            1.25in SSE of LLC of BLURB SCROLL

CAMERA                   2in SSE of WALDO

BINOCULARS          3.5in N of WENDA

PAGE 10 THE UNFRIENDLY GIANTS

WALDO                     4.5in W, 1in N of CAMERA

WENDA                     2.5in NE of ODLAW

ODLAW                     2in ENE of CREASE BOTTOM

WIZARD                    5.25in E, slightly N of WENDA

WOOF                        3in WSW of WALDO

GREEN SCROLL      1.5in NW of CAMERA

BONE                         1.5in S of WIZARD

KEY                            2in NE of BCE of LPG

CAMERA                   2.5in NNE of KEY

BINOCULARS          1.5in NNW of WALDO

PAGE 11 THE UNDERGROUND HUNTERS

WALDO                     4in S of BINOCULARS

WENDA                     1in NE of KEY

ODLAW                     0in above BLURB SCROLL CENTER

WIZARD                    3.5in S, slightly W of KEY

WOOF                        4.5in E of KEY

BLUE SCROLL         2in ENE of LLC of LPG

BONE                         2in NW of LRC of RPG

KEY                            3.25in ESE of CREASE TOP (on rock)

CAMERA                   2.5in NNW of CREASE BOTTOM

BINOCULARS          4in E of KEY

PAGE 12 THE LAND OF WALDOS

WALDO                     IMMEDIATELY SSE of BINOCULARS (no sock on)

WENDA                     2in S of KEY

ODLAW                     1in SE of BLURB SCROLL LRC

WIZARD                    4in WNW of LRC of RPG

WOOF                        1.25in NNW of CAMERA

WALDO SCROLL    2.25in NNE of BONE

BONE                         3.25in W of WIZARD (his hat)

KEY                            4in NNE of WIZARD

CAMERA                   2.5in NNE of BCE of LPG

BINOCULARS          4in SW of URC of RPG

SHOE                         1.5in ESE of LLC of BLURB SCROLL

The Evanescence of Self-Value

It's funny--I get really pissed off when I hear about certain instances of "bullying"--instances in which kids are told that their designer jeans aren't designer enough--that their haircuts look funny.  See--that's not bullying: that's kids being mean; hell, that's just kids being kids.  They're driven by different parts of the brains by adults--they see the world differently.  And so, from time to time, kids can be cruel.

But that's not bullying.

See, bullying is chronic.  It's not a cold that goes away after a week--it's mono--something that you wake up with day after day for months on end.  It's polio--something that lingers, even after you've beaten it like a limp in your psyche.

Bullying is fear--the propagation of terror from one person incapable of empathizing to someone perceived to be weaker, less significant.  Bullying is having the idea that you are not good enough shoved repeatedly down your throat by the echoing laughter of a group of people that you just KNOW will peak in high school and yet, it does nothing to stem the tide of insecurity--the feelings of insignificance.

I remember a conversation I had with a girl in college.  We had gone to high school together--neither of us in the upper echelon of popularity but both far from the bottom.  Whenever I'd do poorly on a test or have an outwardly shitty day, she'd rejoice and rub my nose in it until finally, one day at Baruch, I had had enough.  I got tired of being told that, "it's great to see you fail/have things go wrong in your life--to see that you're NOT perfect."  Apparently, doing well on some tests and keeping my mouth shut about the shit going on in my heart, in my head, and in my home made me seem infallible.  And so I emailed her--laid it all out on the table.  "You remember that day when?  Yeah, well THIS is what happened the night before/that morning."

She was shocked--said she had no idea.  But no one ever does, right?  And isn't that part of the problem anyway?  No one takes the time to ask--"Hey, are you okay?" to the people who need it most.

Junior high was three of the worst years of my life.  I was forced out of my comfort zone and the security of elementary school into something I wasn't prepared for.  During that time, I was the nerd, the fat kid, the skinny kid, the tall, goofy kid, the poor kid with Payless sneakers, the pimple-faced kid.  I went from having a bunch of friends to having my own cousin joining in the torrent of taunts barely a few weeks into school--tossing me aside so that he could be perceived as "one of the cool kids."

Survival of the fittest, am I right?

It's easy for me to sit here in judgment of those instances of so-called bullying because I went through the real deal--the daily fusillade of cracks and comments...and came out the other side.  There's something to be said for sticking it out--for finding a way to deal with the abuse rather than to run away from it.  Then again, it's easy for me to say that because I HAD a support network.  I had two parents who saw value in me--who nursed my wounds and helped me to develop the coping skills necessary not simply to overcome such adversity but to thrive in spite of it.  More importantly, perhaps, I had best friends like James and Ricky--guys who got varying degrees of their own shit but who were ports in the proverbial storm for me.  Shit might have sucked at school, or at home, but when I was hanging out with them, none of it mattered. 

From those relationships, I developed self-confidence and self-worth.  I spent most of my freshman year in quiet shyness--deciding finally that I didn't want to BE that way anymore only after I met Bobby.  I saw him as the "cool" kid but came to realize that we were more alike than I thought.  In fact, we felt the same about a lot of things and had gone through or were going through much of the same shit.  Together, we forged a bond in high school that helped me to become the person that I am today.  By sophomore year, I began shedding the shyness--had developed enough of a game that I was able to identify as a basketball player--one who was now routinely destroying the same kids that had picked on me years earlier.  Making THEM look like fools was great and I derived probably a bit too much satisfaction from it.  I developed a reputation, began earning respect, and slowly transformed from a wallflower into the guy who always has a joke--from the one who hated raising his hand to answer a question to the one who introduced a New York Times best selling author to an audience of more than five hundred people that included some of the most prestigious members of his alma mater.

The thing that surprises me most, though, is perhaps something that shouldn't surprise me at all.  Numerous times throughout the past few years, I've seen admissions by friends that they were hurting--that they had gone through the SAME THINGS THAT I DID despite the fact that, to me, they had seemed untouchable in junior high or high school.  Guys that I thought had NEVER encountered a single taunt or threat had gotten their fair share--from the SAME tormentors as me in some cases.  I say I shouldn't be surprised though because of experiences like the one I had at Baruch with my friend from high school.  Ultimately, you just never know who faced social adversity or, more importantly, the impact that it had on them.

That's the worst part of bullying--the lingering impact that sometimes never goes away.  Beautiful people who had the idea that they were ugly driven into their head the way mathematics tables were memorized back in the day--people who, throughout their adulthood, simply can't shake the notion that they're somehow less than.  For me, I never bought into most of it.  I didn't CARE that I was being taunted for being smart because I knew that it was something good--something that I benefitted from and would benefit from in the long run.  I saw other kids--nerds or kids picked on for their appearance--crack and try to assimilate.  They did poorly on exams or began acting up in school--they changed the way they dressed to look more like the ruling junta and were STILL ridiculed.  I realized that it would never pay off to seek the approval of the bullies because they'd never give it--and, more importantly, that it was never worth receiving in the first place.

Still, it's those vestiges of the past--the echoes that still resound in our hearts and minds from days of lesser confidence--that remind us that, at some point, we were the weak ones.  For the most part, I draw confidence from those recollections but there are still aspects of my life that will likely remain forever changed.  Junior year of high school was the first time that I saved up money to by a pair of Nikes.  For YEARS I refused to wear anything BUT the Swoosh until I finally realized what a joke it was.  I convinced myself that it was about better quality but it wasn't--it was about being tired of getting ripped for the pairs of Champion or Rawlings sneakers that I wore as a kid.  It was hard just buying a pair of New Balance running shoes even though I KNEW they were a solid brand.

The worst of it is the fact that, to this day, I still hate the two most egregious assholes from those junior high days.  I can't even remember a single instance that involves them specifically--something that might seem encouraging but strikes me ultimately as disconcerting; it makes me wonder how bad it was that I probably bottled it up tightly enough to make it seem like it's not there anymore when, in fact, it's just dormant like a sleeping dragon.  I know it had to have been bad though because I remember finding out that one of the guys was involved in a car accident in high school and I was genuinely disappointed that he managed to walk out of it.  Anyone who knows me know that I don't carry around hate in my heart--hell, that I generally ABHOR any sort of discord in my personal relationships--but with those two guys?  I wouldn't piss on them if they were on fire.

I'm one of the lucky ones.  I became well-adjusted and moved on from my experiences, able even to engage in civil social interaction with some of the worst offenders that I encountered again in college or later in life.  It's taken me a very long time but I've even become friends with a lot of the people that I grew up with.  Part of my problem as a kid was that I just never clicked with the majority of the people I went to school with.  I'm not sure what THEY thought of ME but I know that it was pretty clear by the time I started junior high that I wasn't on the same page as them.  While a lot of those kids were going to parties, drinking, and smoking weed at the park, I was riding my bike, playing basketball, or playing video games mostly by myself.  I always felt like I was perceived as being snobbish because I refused to do the things that damn near everyone else was doing but, even then, I adhered tightly to MY moral compass.  I'm sure the bulk of people from the beach who might read this fit into that category--attended keg parties in the weeds, sparked up at each other's houses, and did what teenagers do.  At the time, it bothered the hell out of me--probably because I felt ostracized for not wanting to go with the flow--but ultimately, I think that a lot of the bullshit that I got from kids in the neighborhood stemmed more from misunderstanding than anything else.  Again, basketball played a key role in mitigating the flak because, though I never partook in any of the booze/drugs that were going around the park, I WAS there playing ball and, at least on the court, we were all on equal footing.

There will ALWAYS be bullying because it is inherently human to think in terms of differences.  If only two people were left alive after some unimaginable cataclysm, the odds are that they would find a way to thrive together--relying on each other for survival...but if there were THREE?  Sooner or later, it would break into a two-against-one type of situation.  That's just how it goes--ESPECIALLY in school and especially growing up.  The key to dealing with it is never giving up--knowing that, SOMEDAY, you'll look back on it and think, "Man...I made it THROUGH that."  It's critical to offer support but adults--especially parents--have to realize that it goes only so far.  Ultimately, in order to make it through relatively unscathed--you need to find a fellow lost soul along the way--a kindred spirit united inexorably in the pain that you both share.

As a parent myself, I dread the coming of tear-stained school pick ups--those moments where I'll want nothing more than to rip the throat out of the kid that made MY kid cry...but I won't.  I CAN'T.  That's just not how it works.  Taking your kid out of public school and putting them into private school or homeschooling them just tells the child that they're not strong enough to handle it--that there are safer places and the key to survival is running until you find one.  As much as it kills me to think of the fact that my daughter will probably get picked on for having red hair, my son for being left-handed, BOTH of them for their ethnically diverse gene pool, I understand that it's my job to HELP them in their personal journeys--not to take over the wheel and steer them away from things in the water that will dent and ding their respective ships; if I did, I'd be doing them a disservice.  What I WILL do is to help them to develop a proper perspective on things the way MY parents did--my mom, especially.  Don't sweat the petty stuff and don't pet the sweaty stuff--can I get an AMEN!?

Not everyone is as lucky as me and, when it comes down to it, I think THAT'S really the point where bullying comes into play.  EVERYONE deals with it but not everyone CAN deal with it--you feel me?  It's those kids--the ones who are floating through life, hanging on barely by the thread that keeps them tethered to this world--who need the most reassurance--who need to feel loved and reminded that they ARE valuable and valued. 

Because they are.

And so are you.

(The following is an awesome video my buddy Frank shared on Facebook. Scope it out--you'll probably relate to it at least on some level.)
http://www.upworthy.com/bullies-called-him-pork-chop-he-took-that-pain-with-him-and-then-cooked-it-into?g=2

2012

It's humbling to see so many Facebook statuses about how 2012 was the worst year ever when, for me, it was easily the greatest year of my life.  It certainly wasn't without its low points but the high ones were so high that they all but eradicated their counterpoints.  In some ways, a few of my worst fears were realized in 2012: I had my first severe anxiety relapse in almost six years; Heather and I had arguably the single nastiest fight of our ten years together; my son endured not one but two health scares, one of which had us in the hospital for the second time in seven months (the first being back in 2011); and I saw my neighborhood--the place where I grew up, where my father grew up and HIS father--eighty years of Benecke history brought to its knees because of a freak weather phenomenon. 

In all of these things, though, I found something positive--some new strength that hadn't been there before: I had lived in fear for years of dealing with anxiety again because it nearly took my life and so, when it finally came around again, I was at first fearful...but I found something commingling with that terror--something that wasn't there in the past: defiance.  Indignation of a sort--a haughty disgust with the fact that this thing was trying to control me.  This time around, I decided to take control of the situation and I navigated my way through the dark waters on my own...and came out unscathed on the other side. 

From this, I garnered strength and confidence.

My fight with my wife was over something stupid and was meaningless in the landscape of our relationship but, because it happened in front of our son, it brought about the realization of a fear that I've had since I was a child.  Some of the worst moments of my childhood involved my parents fighting and I swore to myself that I would never treat my wife that way, especially not in front of or in earshot of my children.  That day in the car though, with me screaming at Heather, her screaming at me, and Timmy screaming at both of us, I felt the terror that nearly every adult feels in similar moments: I was afraid that I was becoming my father (and his father and so on).  In an instant, everything that I had worked towards--every Benecke male trait that I had tried to change, every moment of anger and rage quelled--seemed meaningless: wasted.  In a way, I felt like Bruce Banner fighting back the beast within him only instead of a Hulk of unimaginable strength taking over, it was shame and defeat. 

Then, through the haze, my wife's voice appeared: "You are not like him."  Magically, the fight ended and the conversation shifted.  I realized for the first time that she was right--that what I was feeling was what everyone else felt.  It didn't make me like my father: it made me human.

From this, I found hope and redemption.

My son's health scares began October 29th, 2011--the night of the "Snowpocalypse."  We had been sitting with candles lit as the storm raged outside, having already knocked the power out.  We played cards at the table while he sat with us, going first from one parent and then to the other.  He seemed uncharacteristically warm and listless and so we thought he might be coming down with something.  He fell asleep on Heather and so we figured that we'd let him rest, especially since it seemed like he needed it.  I went downstairs to use the bathroom and, barely a few minutes later, I heard her coming down the stairs; I knew right away that something was wrong.  He had suddenly started convulsing and was completely unresponsive.  To make a long story short, we called an ambulance and he and Heather headed off to the hospital while I drove myself over in our car; I will never forget that drive for as long as I live.  Saying nothing for the ice, snow, tree branches, and power lines that were scattered across the road like an expert difficulty level in a racing game nor for the traffic lights that were out at every intersection along Victory Boulevard, I was more scared than I had ever been in my entire life.  I've had more than a few terrifying moments that ran the gamut from a fear of going crazy to losing our brakes coming down a 14,000 foot mountain in Colorado but there was no question: it was the single scariest night of my life.

Fast-forward to the Friday before Mother's Day weekend.  An eerie recurrence of circumstances occurred: the power was inexplicably out two days before a holiday and Timmy had been sick.  Needless to say, that morning, my spider sense went off and I woke up, rolled over, and found him seizing next to me.  Once more, we called an ambulance and spent a few harrowing hours at the hospital.  This time, though, I faced a different sort of terror: that of the hospital/medical system.  During the first episode, we found out that he was susceptible to febrial seizures and had more people checking in on us than I can count; in short, it was the ideal hospital trip.  The second time--the one earlier this year--was almost equally but oppositely bad.  Tim had been sick and had obviously had a fever at the time of his seizure.  We put him in a cold bath--too cold, as I would come to realize--in an attempt to lower his temperature.  Perhaps because of this or maybe just poor technique, when we arrived at the hospital, someone took Timmy's temperature.  It was something ridiculous like 96 degrees.  I pointed out to the woman that this was ludicrous and that he had been feverish prior to leaving the house and thus requested a second temperature.  She blew me off and said that we would have to wait an hour before they would take it again.  When it WAS taken, it was slightly over 100.  Because this still wasn't technically a fever, the nurse didn't want to listen to me when I told her that it was another febrial seizure; I know that's ironic--me telling a medical professional what was what, but sometimes common sense trumps technical knowledge.  Needless to say, she was saying that they were going to have to admit Timmy and set him up with blood tests, a CAT scan, and possibly an MRI.  I knew that it was insane and managed to talk her down and request another temperature reading in a half an hour based upon the facts that a) he would have been almost hypothermic if his temperature really HAD been 96 degrees despite the fact that his lips weren't blue/purple and he didn't feel cold at all and b) if it HAD been 96 degrees then that meant his body temperature had risen almost five full degrees in barely an hour.

Fortunately, thirty minutes later, his temperature was nearly 102 degrees, the tests were called off, anti-fever medication was administered, and, a few hours beyond that, we were on our way home.  What I learned from that experience was invaluable because, had we simply stood back and let the "process" handle itself, we likely would have had one very traumatized child on our hands.

From that, I learned to trust my instincts where my child is concerned.

The one unifying characteristic of these negative events sums up the theme of 2012 for me: taking control.  In all three instances, I took control of a situation that I had initially led myself to believe was beyond my ability to influence and I culled something positive out of it while simultaneously asserting myself; after all, I am the master of my fate--the captain of my soul.

That was easily the biggest change that I saw in myself.  Don't get me wrong--I've always been a take-charge type of person but with certain situations or circumstances, I would clam up--try to ride it out or turn a blind eye in an attempt to hope that it would take care of itself.  Somewhere along the way in 2012, though, I realized that that was simply no way to live.  We get one crack at life for all we know but certainly one shot at this one...and isn't this the one that matters?  Of course it is!  It's the only thing we can be 100% certain of because we are here now.  I decided that it wasn't worth wasting another second on anything that detracted from my enjoyment of my life. 

If it no longer worked for me then I changed it.

If there's only one thing worth repeating it's that: we are all in control of our own lives.  You know what the biggest consequence of that is?  That it means we are also responsible for everything in our lives.  I know I'm good and goddamned tired of hearing people bitch about the things they can easily change but I've also come to realize that, in a manner of speaking, these same people are avoiding the shit out of that responsibility.  They're either too afraid or unwilling to take the helm and would rather allow themselves to be controlled by whatever it is that seems to torture them so.

Your mother/father/brother/sister/friend/etc. bring you nothing but pain?  Then cut them out!  If you had a growth on your body that caused you physical pain would you keep picking at it and then turning away or would you go and get it removed?  Exactly.

You hate your job/career?  Then find a new one!  "There are no jobs out there."  Then plot an exit route for when there are jobs--just stop being so goddamn miserable!

You hate where you're at in your life?  Well complaining about it certainly hasn't gotten anything accomplished, now has it?  Take a good long critical look at yourself, figure out what's wrong, and FIX IT.

Now, in many instances, the things that are causing us pain are circumstances rather than life elements--in other words, things beyond our control.  The most obvious of these situations is the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy.  There are still people without power and without heat, living in homes that are growing more dangerous each day.  Their reality isn't going to change simply because they close their eyes and make it so.

Sorry, Chris Rock, but everything didn't get fixed during the concert.  Asshole.

With that said, here's the most important unsolicited advice I can give: none of us can control our circumstances--we can control only our reactions to those environments and life moments.  A surprisingly few number of people have done nothing but complain (on Facebook at least) about their lives post-Sandy but there will invariably be the Debbie Downers, the "Why me? I didn't deserve this!" crowd but, thankfully, their voices are being quieted by the rest who aren't saying anything at all.  These are the people too busy rebuilding their lives to stop for a moment and bitch.  Sure, everyone is entitled to those moments of weakness--those instances where we feel wholly overwhelmed and unsure of whether or not we can even endure whatever it is we face for another second.  But there's a hideous beauty in those moments--something that comes, much to my amazement, from another person.  Sometimes that's all it takes--a hand on your shoulder from someone who's been there and survived or who's going through the exact same thing as the exact same time that you are.  It serves as a reminder that suffering is temporary, as long as that time period might seem.  While we were enduring Sandy, there were people lounging on beaches throughout the tropics, sipping on colorful drinks with tiny umbrellas sticking out of them; there are still people doing that while here, the reality is what it is. 

The point is that circumstances change and we are rarely an influence over the speed or timing with which that happens.  Control what you can and fuck everything and everyone else.  Keep one foot in front of the other and never, not ever think that you can't come through the other side of whatever it is that you're going through a better person--a stronger one.  Whether it's my neighbors, friends, and family who are still picking up the pieces after the storm, folks dealing with personal health scares, people who are being held beneath the thumb of some oppressive condition be it professional, romantic, or otherwise, it doesn't matter because the reality is the same: you'll make it through.

We're all stronger than we think. 

We're all responsible for our reactions to the things in our lives.

We all have the power to make ourselves happier--to better our situations even when our circumstances seem impossible to overcome.

Thanks 2012 for helping me figure that out.

Six Things That Piss Me Off When I'm Out Bike Riding

So after a few aggravating episodes whilst out for a bike ride, I decided finally to vent my frustrations here.  I mean, what better way to end the month of August than with a little misanthropy, eh?  Anyway, below are a few things that people do on bike paths that piss me off and simultaneously make me question the validity of Darwin's postulation about the survival of the fittest (obviously if these people keep seeing sunrises and sunsets, there must be something awry in said theory).

I. PEOPLE WHO RIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PATH AND/OR MEANDER CASUALLY FROM SIDE TO SIDE

The last time I checked, there hasn't been a biological holocaust nor has some epic world war wiped out the global population.  As such, you, person who rides slowly in the middle of the path, are not the only person left alive.  With that said, there is a statistically significant probability that, at some point, SOMEONE ELSE will appear magically behind you and wish to pass.  Were you to follow the so-called "rules of the road" (more on that in a moment), then there wouldn't be an issue.  Since you're electing to be a douche, however, you force the other rider(s) a) to slow their progress, b) to take evasive defensive riding maneuvers, and c) to shout out to your dumb ass to try to get your attention.

See, the frustrating part is that there is a logical chain here that would render this issue moot if people only made the synapse connections.  Riding a bike is more like a car than walking simply because a) it is a machine and b) you can easily reach speeds that a car can match but not a runner.  Ergo, bike riders should follow the same rules of driving.  Think of it this way: if a bike path is like a roadway, then you can imagine that the center of said path is just like the double yellow lines on said roadway.  I would like to think that most people don't drive along the yellow lines and opt instead to stay to one side (usually the one on the right, at least in the United States).  This ensures that you won't collide with other drivers/riders and it renders your progress both safe and predictable (predictability being a requisite part of safe travel whilst driving/riding).  Following the "keep right, pass left" imperative that most states employ makes the whole thing even easier because it removes the guesswork on the part of the person looking to pass.  If, however, you're listing slowly from one side to the other, you're more like an intoxicated driver, which, by its very nature, is unpredictable (thus increasing the danger factor exponentially).

Bottom line: stay the fuck to one side!

II. PEOPLE USING CELL PHONES WHILE RIDING BIKES

I shit you not, the other day I was riding along the Henry Hudson Trail when I saw a kid coming towards me on a bike.  He was riding with one hand and with the other he was texting with his face about a foot away from the phone.  As he rode, he started to veer right towards me.  If I had been able to think more quickly, I would've just moved out of the way and let the fucker crash into a tree but instead I gave him a deep-throated "YO," which, unsurprisingly, startled the shit out of him.

Seriously?  WHILE YOU'RE RIDING A GODDAMN BIKE!?  I think it's people like this kid (and the others that I've seen) that make me doubt Darwin the most.  I can only pray for some sort of strange malignancy that affects people who text and drive/ride without causing any harm to the rest of us.

Bottom line: please don't procreate.

III.  PEOPLE WEARING HEADPHONES ON A SHARED PATHWAY/ PEOPLE WHO WALK ON THE WRONG SIDE
I'm all about sharing the path with pedestrians but there's a reason there are designated lanes for pedestrians and for cyclists.  I used to HATE riding along the beach in Staten Island because it never failed that people would walk on the wrong path.  There's a reason there is an enormous depiction of a person on a bike painted onto the fucking path, assholes!  Aside from the fact that, when there is a pedestrian path, it's usually on some sort of walkway/roadway that also has an enormous, undesignated stretch that is unofficially for pedestrians in the first place.  So basically, cyclists get approximately three feet of asphalt while walkers get the remaining ninety-plus percent.  And then they have the balls to cop an attitude when you chide them for walking in the ONE PLACE SET ASIDE FOR BIKE RIDERS!

At least with those people, you can call out and let them know that you're behind them.  The worst ones are the people wearing headphones (whether they're walking or riding a bike, and particularly on smaller shared paths like the Henry Hudson Trail) because they can't hear you!  Invariably, when you pass them, they have this insanely overdramatic reaction of shock and surprise, which is often followed with some sort of expletive or commentary, regardless of how far away you are from them when you pass.  Don't get me wrong--I've seen some real pricks who will buzz them as they pass just to drive home the point and, frankly, they're even bigger assholes than the headphone-wearers.

Bottom line: pay attention to where you're walking!

IV. PEOPLE WHO WALK/RIDE THREE-WIDE AND TAKE UP THE BULK OF THE PATH

Listen, I get that you're out for a stroll/ride with your friends or family and you're looking to enjoy that camaraderie as you go, but how inconsiderate do you have to be to walk in a goddamn chorus line where you're taking up the entire path so that no one can pass you?  There's no reason for it, especially since the third person is probably an unwanted, superfluous wheel who was only invited out of pity in the first place!  You're on a shared, public pathway, not some private thoroughfare!  It's a bike path, not the goddamn yellow-brick road and you brain dead assholes sure as hell aren't on your way to see the wizard.

Bottom line: share the road!

V. PEOPLE WHO STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PATHWAY

This one applies mostly to other cyclists but there are plenty of pedestrians who do it too.  Why in God's good name do you feel compelled to take a break or to make some sort of pitstop IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PATH!?  Pull the fuck over to the side!  I'm a defensive rider in general, which is a good thing because about twenty minutes after I almost got hit by the kid on the cell phone, I reached a blind curve and had my spider sense go off.  Two assholes decided to take a break RIGHT around the bend and RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PATH!  One guy's straddling his bike, sipping some water and the other jerkoff has his bike laid down on path and he's sitting next to it!  There were grass embankments on BOTH sides!!!  UGH!

Bottom line: This.

VI. PEOPLE WITH DOGS THAT AREN'T ON A LEASH

This one is a touchy subject for a lot of people (and by a lot of people, I mean a lot of dog owners) and I have some equally strong views.  Let me say right up front that I do not have a problem with dogs.  Out of all of the possible pets, dogs are without a doubt my favorite.  I've always wanted either a German Shepherd or a Husky, so it's not like I'm one of those "pets are dangerous" people.  In fact, I'd go so far as to say that pet owners are the dangerous ones simply because of their arrogance or lack of common sense.

See, here's the thing: many pet owners seem to assume that everyone else loves animals (or their particular type of animal) or is as comfortable around animals just as much as they do/are.  As such, when they leave their dog off of the leash out in public (whatever they do on their own property is their own business, as long as the dog can't get out onto the sidewalk/street), they're assuming that anyone passing by will have a particular, homogenous reaction to their pet.  The problem is many-fold but the most salient parts are that a) they assume that they know EXACTLY how that dog is going to react to EVERY SINGLE PERSON that will pass by (thus the aforementioned arrogance) and b) they assume that every person who passes by is comfortable with dogs.

I can't tell you how many times I've been out for walks with my son in the stroller and I saw a dog off a leash hanging out in someone's unfenced yard.  I'd say in more than half of the instances, when we were close enough, that dog suddenly bolted towards us.  The owner would yell the dog's name and tell it to get back over there (completely ineffective pack leadership) but by then, the dog would already be near the stroller.  Now, for me, I have only one responsibility in this case and that's to protect my son.  I don't know your dog and I don't know if (s)he is friendly or not.  All I know is that the fucking thing is running towards me and I will have only a split second to decide whether or not I'm kicking it in the teeth (which I would do only if it posed a threat to my son). 

Worse, still, is when we're out and Timmy isn't in a stroller.  One day we were walking up the block in Staten Island and these two vicious little dogs were running around while their owner was speaking with another neighbor.  I had had them nip at my ankles enough times to assume how they would react (ironic, I know) when we approached.  Sure enough, as soon as they spotted Timmy, they shot right towards him.  I scooped him up just as they got to within a few feet of him.  The owner stops his conversation and calls them back.  Livid, I told him that he should have the fucking dogs on a leash to which he responds (I shit you not):, "Ah, don't worry.  They're my dogs."  I was flabbergasted, mostly because of the horrific logic implied in what he said.  I told him that that was great and that I'm sure if those dogs bit my kid, that the judge would throw the case out based on that fact alone.

Again, it's the arrogance of these dog owners that pisses me off.  I don't care if you've had your dog for fifteen fucking years, you do NOT know how it is going to react in a given situation!  In fact, the LONGER you've HAD the dog, the more likely you are NOT to know.  It's a dog--an animal!  You don't know what it's thinking or feeling, or, more specifically, what's going to set it off.  What if my wife is wearing a perfume that makes the dog freak out?  What if it runs over to my kid who moves his arms too quickly, startling the dog and causing it to bite?  I don't care if that dog has reacted the same way in 1,000 similar instances--all it takes is one attack a) to potentially scar a kid for life and b) to warrant putting that dog down.

The best is the "Oh, (s)he's friendly!" line that many dog owners use when their animal is rocketing towards or jumping all over you.  How's this for a response?  I DON'T GIVE A SHIT.  And one more: THAT'S NOT THE POINT!  Inherent in that train of thought is the assumption that the person likes dogs or is comfortable with them.  I don't give a shit if your dog is the friendliest fucking mutt on the face of the planet, I shouldn't have to have that moment of worry when it comes tearing towards me, making me wonder whether or not it's going to attack me.  That's why they have dog runs.

The bottom line: if you're in a public place, ESPECIALLY with people riding bikes, keep the goddamn dog on a leash!