Dave-DeVito, Orlando, FL, Creative Writer, Copywriter, Article Press, Web Content, Editor Proofreader

Dave-DeVito, Orlando, FL, Creative Writer, Copywriter, Article Press, Web Content, Editor Proofreader

What Do I Want To Be If I Grow Up?

It's October Already! That's amazing. It seems like yesterday that I started this new life.

 It has been quite an unbelievable year so far and I still have a few months left. I took my first mid-term exam in 20 years today. I don't believe I did as well as I had hoped, but, in my defense its been a long time since I had to make my little brain work this hard to memorize terms. Being back in school hasn't been as stressful as I feared. Actually, its been pretty awesome. I have 3 interesting classes and some great professors. More importantly, I will now have 6 classes for my AA degree and the ability to transfer to the 4 year college of my choice. Lately, I have been entertaining the University of Hawaii.

I am pretty sure that I want to pursue a degree in Journalism. I have the previous experince of having been published many years ago when I used to write for DMA Magazine, a dance music magazine out of Chicago.

I have actually embraced the idea that I have no idea what I want to be. I have truly begun to enjoy the journey...

Narcissistic Cannibal -Korn

"Narcissistic Cannibal"


Don't wanna be sly and defile you
Desecrate my mind and rely on you
I just wanna break this crown
But it's hard when I'm so run down

And you're so cynical, Narcissistic Cannibal!
Got to bring myself back from the dead!

Sometimes, I hate, the life, I made
Everything's wrong every time
Pushing on I can't escape
Everything that comes my way
Is haunting me taking its sweet time

Holding on I'm lost in a haze
Fighting life to the end of my days

Don't wanna be rude but I have to
Nothing's good about the hell you put me through
I just need to look around
See that life that has come unbound

And you're so cynical, Narcissistic Cannibal
Got to bring myself back from the dead

Sometimes, I hate, the life I made
Everything's wrong every time
Pushing on I can't escape
Everything that comes my way
Is haunting me taking its sweet time

Sometimes, I hate, the life I made
Everything's wrong every time
Pushing on I can't escape
Everything that comes my way
Is haunting me taking its sweet time

Holding on I'm lost in a haze
Fighting life to the end of my days

Holding on I'm lost in a haze
Fighting life to the end of my days

The deeply disturbing side of me...

I was given an assignment in my English class. I was told to find a gory, disgusting story on the news and make a "Once upon a time.." story out of it...

Heres the article..

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/2012/05/29/police-hackensack-man-stabbed-himself-threw-his-skin-and-intestines-at-officers/



Here's my story....

To Protect and Serve…

            Once upon a time, there was a perfectly normal, well-adjusted man that, on a bright sunny day in New Jersey, needed to cut, remove and show his intestines to the local police and SWAT teams. Wayne Carter was a nice guy, an easy going fellow that simply had an eventful day. When the old school alarm clock on his nightstand went off one Tuesday morning, Carter stated aloud, “Today is a good day!” This was a little trick he’d taught himself to kick start his day. This was a trick he’d used for years; Ten years to be exact. That is how long it had been since “The Incident”.

            In spring of 2002, 33 year old, Carter had a bizarre day. It wasn’t his fault. He was simply a victim of circumstance. Hanging out on the south side of town with a couple of “friends”, he was merely conducting business, a business that was based in largely unregulated pharmaceutical distribution. Anyway, his was primarily a cash based entity, one that focused on serving his community. Well, on this specific afternoon, he ran into a gentleman ironically named “Lil Jon”. Lil Jon was about seven feet tall and looked like a brick wall with feet. He arrived on the corner and explained to Mr. Carter that there had been a mix-up and that Carter had clearly inadvertently set up his business at the location usually occupied by himself. That’s when Connie, the guy in Carter’s head, warned him of Lil Jon’s intentions. Carter did what any of us would; he showed gratitude and listened to his trusted internal friend.  There is more to the story but, ultimately, Mr. Carter ended up riding in the back of a police car later that night, to help sort things out.

            The police requested that Mr. Carter spend some time at their station and planned out a strategy for his future. (These truly were nice guys). The strategy included Carter donating some of his time, and his hard earned money, to the local government. They also requested that he remain “in touch” with them for the next few years. Though this seemed like a strange sentiment to Carter, he obliged and once a month, he visited with a man named Mr. Diaz just to talk for a few minutes. But all of that was years ago. He hadn’t thought about that for a while. Anyway, that was the strangest day he had before today.

            For the most part, today was just fine. It started just like the rest. Mr. Carter had coffee and a doughnut for breakfast, a turkey sandwich and a beer for lunch and a sensible Lean Cuisine and another beer for dinner. That’s when he saw the TV.  The six o clock news announced a recall on Lean Cuisine. Thank goodness for his old friend Connie. He warned him that food needed to come out and there was only one way to do it. It needed to be cut out. It needed to be cut out NOW.

            An hour later, alone in his room, having followed his instructions, Mr. Carter heard a knock at the door. It was the police. He hadn’t heard from them in years. Excited to see him, they actually burst into his apartment to say “hello”. But they got scared when they saw the knife, and maybe the intestines, and asked that drop the knife immediately. With his trusty friend in his ear, Carter explained that he had this Lean Cuisine in him and he proudly showed the kind officers the parts of the dinner he had cut out of him. They were still pretty far away so in his excitement, he threw it to them. But they left. He didn’t understand at first, but Connie told him it was ok and it was. The police brought their friends back with them! It said SWAT and they were big guys. They thought that squirting some stuff in his eyes would help get the poison out of him but it didn’t work out too well. He apparently lost consciousness, for a minute, from the poison, and then finally, they helped him lie down and fall asleep. They took Wayne to the hospital and he ended up feeling much better…no more poison Lean Cuisine in him.

            Today was an unusual, but fantastic day for Wayne Carter. He got to hear Connie’s voice for the first time in years. He, thankfully, got warned by the local news and was able to act quickly to save his own life. But, most importantly, he got to see his old friends at the Hackensack N.J. police department, the good men that were always there to assist him. This was the kind of day people who take drugs could only hope to have.

Big big things.

School starts monday! Thats so amazing. Assuming I hunker down and hope Isaac doesn't devastate Florida. I think we're safe there.

My poor dog Simone is sick. But she's got meds and will be getting better.

I made a decision to do something I think is unbelievably cool. I'll get into it next post.... That's called a teaser.

Run for the border...

As my final days in Georgia wind down, I have begun to get a little nostalgic. I imagine I will get over it pretty quickly. I mean, it has been a relatively horrific experience. One that has included divorce, my restaurant being robbed at gunpoint, having a separate gun pulled on me, blatantly discriminatory termination from a job, dating 2 complete psychopaths, recovery from the brink of emotional and financial disaster and much, much more... Ahh the memories.

But within the next 48 hours, I will be back in Florida. That's not to say that I think Orlando is all puppy dogs and butterflies. However, it is a great opportunity to put together the second half of my life.

Some of my best memories, longest lasting friendships and favorite places are in Orlando. Plus, I am headed back to school on August 27th. That's really exciting. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. Nonetheless, I will be moving toward a degree. THAT is something I want to do for myself. Not necessarily for a job.

So, to Georgia I say, in the immortal words of the not-so-well-known band Fall Out Boy

"One night and one more time
Thanks for the memories
Even though they weren't so great..."

Back to Florida I go... 20 years after my first go around. I have a LOT more experience and I am taking NO prisoners... Here goes nothing!

State of Unhappiness v. David DeVito... Don't Judge Me!

Perhaps the biggest revelation of my entire life happened to me a couple of weeks ago. I promised that I would write about it, so I am making the time to do so.

Opening Argument:

I'm broken. Most of us are. Very rarely do we take the time to acknowledge it, let alone correct it. For the past few weeks, I have discovered the crux of my issue. As I have all year long, I am voicing it here for anyone who would like to listen to do so. I keep referring to the "hole" that I had inside. It is a hole that I have tried to fill with jobs, cars and, most importantly, women! That hole is actually insecurity. My insecurity was deeply rooted, immeasurable and almost impossible for me to recognize in myself. But after months of personal analysis, and the help of a few good friends, I have found it.

Exhibit 1

I have worked for at least 6 millionaires and one billionaire. I have thrown myself into every job I have had as if it were my own business. Six to nine months into the job, I begin to get "ancy". I begin to feel as if the level of dedication is not reciprocated by the company and/or person in charge and begin to get frustrated. That frustration grows to a point where I simply do not enjoy the work and no longer want to be part of the operation. Now, in MANY cases, I have been wronged. I have had employers back out of contracts owing my 10s of thousands of dollars. I have been wrongfully (and at times rightfully)terminated. I have been paid virtually nothing to create businesses for people on their word that they'd "take care" of me when they made money. I even had a company that I made millions for, hold my last paycheck and leave me flat broke on New Years after giving proper notice just to punish me for leaving. That said, I would always leave furious that my work ethic and my dedication had not commanded more respect from my employer. It was only recently that I began to understand why.

Exhibit 2

I have spent a lot of time (arguably too much) in the past year analyzing myself and my romantic relationships, the"ins and outs", who was at fault, mistakes made, etc. Mostly, I did this in an attempt not to repeat past mistakes. As many will attest, the"not repeating" thing is not my strongest asset. Nevertheless, I revisited the topic and realized something about the girls that I date. A guynamed Eddie that I worked with about 100 years ago in Disney once said that all girls I dated tucked their hair behind their ear, and that fact, alone, was theonly thing that they all had in common. However, in 2012, I realized that was not the only thing. Not only did all of these girls have something in common with each other, but they have something in common with all of my former employers as well.

Exhibit 3

That common ground is, simply put, that they WANTED me. It didn't matter to me if I wanted them. It didn't matter if it was the meth addict or the fast food joint, if they wanted me, I'd give it a shot. This was based on my own lack of self-worth, my "hole" but I never realized it. I, actually, have VERY specific taste and pretty high job standards. I once saw a former manager of mine at Disney. He was working at the Ale House and I thought "His life didn't turn out well". Granted, I was far more judgmental in my youth. The point is that I always held myself to that high standard in my own head but rather than stand my ground and realize that I needed to shoot higher than a mediocre career or a less than quality girlfriend, I would commit to the first recruiter or psychopath that showed interest in me and my "hole"!

Exhibit 4

A few weeks ago, I went to Orlando and a friend of mine was saying over and over, that he couldn't understand what had "happened" to me. He didn't get how I could have landed so far from where I was and he even went so far as to say "I mean, you're DAVE DEVITO" as if that meant something monumental. My response was to thank him, but to point out how that didn't really get you too much in this world.After a week of reflection and introspective in Orlando, like a baseball bat to the temporal lobe, it hit me! That was IT! The one who didn't see "Dave DeVito" as worth something more, was ME!

Closing Argument

And that truly is it. Now let's go back, back to the millionaires that I was trying to impress. Not because I wanted more money or more recognition, but because I was shoveling dirt into this hole in my self-esteem. No amount of money was ever enough to make me feel proud. Nothing was enough to make me feel "complete". The last 3girls that I had dated all screamed in my face as our relationship ended, that I was impossible to satisfy (One said insatiable: the other two.. not that bright). Of course I was! I wasn't happy with ME! How could they be happy with me?! Moreover, how could they possibly make me happy???? I know this may all seem like common sense or, perhaps, like something out of a self-help book, but it was amazing to click that light on in my head. I have felt like an entirely different person.

That I have figured out this "hole", this insecurity, at 40, is a true blessing to me, mostly, because, now I am at least armed with some information that may actually lead to my own happiness. People say that your 40s are the best time of your life because you're still young enough to go out and do things but you know better than to fall into traps that you wouldn't have seen earlier. Time will tell whether that ends up being true.But there is one thing that I have learned. I need to be my biggest fan.

The defense rests.

Dedication (Ok, that doesn’t fit the theme)

To my friend Jay Pravato, I want to feel as strongly about actually being Dave DeVito as you do about me being Dave DeVito. Thanks!!