The Kat House » memories

In Loving Memory of Rick Pietschman

Tish — Wed, 17 Nov 2010 03:06:33 +0000

I met Rick Pietschman in 1997. He was the Controller for a national discount book store chain when I was hired into the accounting department. Though he was technically my boss, we became fast friends. I have so many fond memories of him.

I was obsessed with beanie babies back in those days. I’m not sure how I managed to get Rick to jump on the bandwagon with me, but he did. We would sometimes become privy to inside information about a new shipment of beanies, and we’d rush out during our lunch hour to see what we could score. Whereas I just thought beanies were cute and cuddly, Rick was convinced that they would one day make him rich!

Then there were the jokes. Rick got loads of them in his AOL inbox, and he would often share them with me. I still remember his laughter as he told me a not so clean joke about a guy who had taken a trip to Jamaica. The punch line was, “Welcome to Jamaica. Have a nice day!” I have to admit that the joke was hilarious, but Rick’s laughter made it all the better. We laughed so hard that day. The next day when I got to work, I found a slip of paper resting on my keyboard. It said simply, “Welcome to Jamaica. Have a nice day!”

In 1998, I was involved in a car accident on the way to work one morning. Though I wasn’t injured, I was incredibly upset and couldn’t stop crying. I called Rick to tell him what had happened and that I’d be late for work. Within minutes, he was at my side. I’m not sure if I ever told him how much that meant to me, but I have never forgotten it, and I never will.

The following year, I had the opportunity to be there for Rick. For some time, he had been treated unfairly by upper management. And when they terminated his employment one morning, I followed him out the door. Without a moment’s hesitation, I left my job behind. I still remember how incredibly touched he was at my show of friendship and loyalty.

I started a new job a few days later, and Rick moved back to his home state of Florida. We kept in touch by phone and email over the next six years. He often talked of moving back to Tennessee, but never found a suitable job here. The last conversation I had with him was in 2005. I wish I could remember more about it, but I remember only a few things. He was planning a visit to Tennessee and wanted to see me. And when I mentioned that I didn’t know if I’d recognize him, he said that he “still looked the same, but his waistline was bigger.” And then there was the laughter that Rick was so well known for. I will never forget that laugh.

For the past five years, Rick’s whereabouts have been a mystery to me. His phone was disconnected. My emails went unanswered. My Google searches were fruitless. I couldn’t even locate him on MySpace or Facebook. Until a couple of weeks ago. I did another Google search and came across a newspaper article that confirmed my worst fears. Rick was killed in a motorcycle accident in 2005.

Rick Pietschman didn’t get rich from his beanie baby investment, but he certainly enriched the lives of all those around him. He didn’t travel to Jamaica, at least not that I know of, but his laugh brought about many nice days. And today, as I mourn this incredible loss, it is my hope that Rick is resting peacefully with our Lord, and that he is aware of just how many lives he touched during his 49 years on this earth.

Goodbye, my friend. You were, are, and will always be, one of the closest friends I have ever known. I will love you always.

Mr. Rickman’s High School Chemistry Class

Tish — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 15:47:47 +0000

I may not look like your typical nerd, but I’m a big one – always have been! I’ve lightened up a little in my old age, but you should have seen me back in high school. I had no social life to speak of. I was in an advanced placement curriculum, went to work for a few hours each day after school, and then went home and stayed up until 1 or 2 AM studying. I wasn’t a straight A student, but I was pretty close. There were a couple of Bs scattered throughout my high school career, and as ashamed as I am to admit it, there was one C. It was in Mr. Rickman’s chemistry class.

I was both mathematically and scientifically inclined, so chemistry should not have been a problem. I could understand the most complex of mathematical equations. I adored Biology and even considered going into the medical field. But when it came to chemistry, I just couldn’t comprehend it. I knew the Periodic Chart, and I had a decent understanding of molecular structure. In fact, to most I probably seemed to be fairly knowledgeable in the area. I could understand the individual pieces of chemistry, but I just couldn’t seem to fit it all together. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. And not being able to see the big picture caused me serious difficulty in Mr. Rickman’s class.

Mr. Rickman must have been about a hundred years old back then. He was a tall, slender man who spoke with a thick southern drawl. He had a habit of calling his students “yahoos” – which he pronounced “yay-hooz”. His lectures would practically put me to sleep. And though I remember very little about them, I recall that the phrase “in a vacuum” was used in practically every sentence. I had no clue what he was talking about, but I’m pretty sure he wasn’t referring to Sebo vacuums.

I’ve always been an honest person. I’m the person who speaks up when a grocery item rings up less than it should have. It’s just my nature. But that chemistry class brought out my dark side. I spent hours and hours studying before the tests, yet I went to class totally unprepared for them. So I did what I never thought possible, and what I have never done since. I cheated. It wasn’t the usual form of cheating, mind you. I didn’t get any questions or answers ahead of time. On the night before each exam, I wrote down every equation I thought I might need. I wrote them on one sheet of paper with another sheet underneath, and I bared down hard enough that the indentions of my writing would appear on the blank sheet. Then I used that blank sheet for my “scratch paper” during the exam. It helped a little, but not much. Half the time, I couldn’t even figure out which equation I should use.

I breathed the biggest sigh of relief when that school year ended. And I somehow managed not to take any chemistry classes in college. I now know everything I need to know about chemistry, and I owe it not to Mr. Rickman – but to a comic book geek with a heart made of AU.

Days Gone By

Tish — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 03:20:26 +0000

I can hardly believe that my 20 year high school reunion is just two years from now! I remember not being able to wait until high school was over. Now I wish I had a time machine and could go back. Those were the days, weren’t they? I was a nerd and spent nearly all my time studying, but I certainly didn’t have the stresses that I now deal with on a daily basis. My biggest worry was whether or not Larry Bryan was ever going to ask me out.

Larry was a year younger than me. I met him when we both started working on the yearbook staff. We became instant friends. What I liked most about him is that he made me laugh. He was always joking and playing pranks, and just hearing his laugh could make me smile. We were both huge pro wrestling fans, and our favorite wrestlers just happened to be bitter enemies. I loved Ric Flair, and Larry had some crazy fascination with Lex Luger. I don’t remember how it originally got started, but we wrote poems to each other nearly every day – poems about our wrestlers. Poems about how Ric was going to kick Lex’s ass, and how Lex was going to pulverize Ric. I know I still have those poems somewhere. I sure wish I could find them.

I don’t remember all the details of Larry’s life, but I do know that he had not had an easy one. He lived in a boys’ home run by a local church. Some of the other boys attended our school as well, and though they had been through harder times than most of us could have ever imagined, they were some of the nicest kids I’d ever met. They truly knew the meaning of the word “respect”.

Larry and I never dated; though there were times that I suspected he might be interested in me. But it just wasn’t meant to be, I guess. We lost touch after graduation. We met up a few years later and renewed our friendship. Unfortunately, that didn’t last either. We had some silly misunderstanding, and he chose to walk away.

I haven’t seen or heard from Larry since, but sometimes I am reminded of those days gone by, of those wrestlers now old and gray, and of that beautiful friendship that slipped right through my fingers. And I pray that he’s out there, and that he knows I’m truly sorry that our friendship didn’t last a lifetime.

The Agony of De Feet

Tish — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 02:29:40 +0000

I participated in a Walk-A-Thon when I was about 19 or 20 years old. I walked with my sister and my good friend Vernon. I can’t remember much except for how badly my legs ached only a few miles into the 10 mile trek. And then there were the guys and gals greeting us at each checkpoint. Somewhere around mile 8, I sat down to rest my weary feet. One of the volunteers laughed and said, “the agony of de feet!” He was so proud of his little play on words!

As I sit here applying Aspercreme to my legs, I can’t help but think back to that day. My feet certainly did experience some agony, but defeat was not in my vocabulary that day. I pushed on and finished that 10 mile walk, even though Vernon offered to carry me across the finish line. Wow. What a tempting proposition!

So, back to the Aspercreme.

Last Tuesday night, I went to the track with my sister-in-law. We’ve gone every single night since – until tonight, that is. She went, but I decided to rest my weary feet. And weary they sure have been! We’ve been walking for more than one hour each night. I’ve had a great time, and having a partner keeps me motivated. It has also been a great opportunity for us to get to know each other a little better. We’ve talked about everything you can imagine – country music, Hannah Montana, the Lifetime Movie Network, and the movie Cars. Who would have guessed that we’d have so many interests in common?

My nephews Aiden and Carter usually accompany us on our walks. Rebekah has to push a Bugaboo stroller, so we walk a little slower than we would without the kids, but it’s a nice change of pace from the hectic days I usually deal with. Now I get to regularly stop and smell the roses – and the aroma of greasy fried chicken from the neighboring KFC.

Drop the Pen!

Tish — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 23:37:25 +0000

After I recently blogged about my fascination with pens, my buddy Rick sent me this video.

I laughed myself silly – not just because the video is so funny, but because it reminds me so much of myself. While the other kids back in middle school were spending their hard earned dollars in search of the world’s best acne treatment, I was dropping quarters into the pencil machine. And 24 years later, I still hate that kid who stole my pencils.

So much has changed, yet so much has stayed the same. I’m not so crazy about pencils anymore, but you’d be wise not to even think about touching my pen – my Pilot Precise V7 Rolling Ball with Extra Fine tip. Never has a more glorious pen been manufactured!

Like the kid in this video, I get a bit uneasy when someone asks to borrow my pen. I watch it like a hawk. I’ve had to stop a few people from running off with it in the past, though thankfully, I have never had to resort to extreme measures of retrieval. “Drop the pen and slowly back away!” usually does the trick. I haven’t had to fire a round yet!

The Real Reason I Have a Cell Phone

Tish — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 01:21:09 +0000

It was the late 1990s. I spent more than an hour each day driving back and forth to work, and then there were all the weekly errands. From time to time, I considered getting a cell phone, but I could never really justify the extra expense. It would certainly be a nice safety measure. If I were to break down on the side of the road, I’d be able to call for help. If my friends or family ever needed me, they’d be able to reach me. I had a whole list of good reasons – but there was one that sealed the deal.

I listened to B97.5 on the drive to work each day, and then all day long at my desk. I was addicted. All that adult contemporary music piping through my speakers was pure bliss. But that wasn’t the best part. There were the contests. The station gave away all sorts of cool prizes that I wanted to win, and the coolest of the cool were awarded in a trivia contest each morning – and it just happened to be during the middle of my work commute. There were so many times that I knew the answers, but with no phone, I was just another listener without a cool prize. So I bit the bullet. I bought a phone. One of those gigantic phones that resembled the walkie talkies we played with as kids. And then I was somebody – somebody determined to win a prize! Unfortunately, there was no such thing as a Bluetooth headset back in those days. I’d drive with one hand, frantically dialing with the other. I’d throw the phone up to my ear over and over again, praying to get through. I spent so much time with that phone pressed to my ear that I’m surprised I didn’t get brain cancer.

What I did get was a prize! Lots of them as a matter of fact! So many that TK in the Morning started to recognize my name. It was great. Sadly, at some point my luck ran out. I got a busy signal every time I dialed – or worse. Sometimes I didn’t know the answer at all! I eventually stopped calling, and thus ended a very exciting chapter in my life. Alas, I still have the memory – and now it is preserved forevermore on my blog!

The Kid Who Stole My Pencils

Tish — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 01:18:14 +0000

I have long had a fascination with writing utensils. It goes all the way back to when I was a tot, writing with those gigantic pencils that took both hands just to lift. Once I had mastered that tool, it was time to move on to the regular slender pencils – and a whole new way of writing. Look Mom – one hand!

When I was in seventh grade, there were pencil machines around school. I’m not sure if the schools have them these days, but man – these things were great! For a quarter, you got two shiny new pencils, and the design was always a surprise! Sometimes they had cartoon characters on them. Sometimes you got special seasonal designs. It was anyone’s guess! I vividly remember getting two new pencils one morning. I can’t remember what was on them, but I remember being really excited about my new acquisition. I slipped them down into the pocket on the side of my purse and went about my business. At the end of the day, I was going down a flight of stairs, and I thought I felt something tug on my purse. I turned around to see this jerk of a kid practically right against me. I don’t remember his name, but I can still see his face just like it was yesterday. I didn’t notice anything unusual, so I just went on home. Later I realized that both pencils were gone – stolen right out of my purse! And though I had no evidence, I was pretty damn sure it was that kid from the staircase. I held a grudge against him from that day forward.

As an adult, I rarely use a pencil. I’m now obsessed with pens. I have metal pens, plastic pens, red pens, blue pens, pens with fuzzy feather toppers, and even pens that light up when you write. But there is one pen that I consider to be the world’s best – the Pilot Precise V5 Rolling Ball with Extra Fine Tip. No other tip will do. I prefer blue ink, but I occasionally purchase the ones with black ink. Yes, I’m very picky with my pens.

As for that kid from middle school, well, you know what they say. Revenge is a dish best served cold. And the little pencil dick is eventually going to get his just desserts – nicely chilled for 24 years and counting!

A Step Back in Time #2

Tish — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 03:15:02 +0000

My parents have lots of photos of me as a child, but I believe this is the only one in my possession.

The photo is undated, so I can only speculate as to my age. I was probably about 5 or 6 years old. My dreams of becoming a country singer never came to fruition, because well, my voice sucks. And obviously, so does my fashion sense.

A Step Back in Time #1

Tish — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 01:30:55 +0000

Welcome to my new regular feature – A Step Back in Time. I intend to use this series to preserve photos and memories from my past.

I don’t have an exact date on this photo, but I’m pretty sure it is from Spring 1993. This is me with my friend Kevin. Kevin and I went to the same high school, but we never really connected back then. It was only after high school that we met up and became friends. This photo is from a trip to the lake, and as embarrassed as I am to say it, we’re laying on a Dukes of Hazzard blanket. My brother and another friend of mine joined us that day for some fishing, cold sodas, and general laziness. We had an awesome time.

At the time of this photo, I had recently become a part of Kevin’s circle of friends. I eventually married another guy in the group. We divorced a few years later.

Kevin and I don’t regularly keep in touch these days. I did see Transformers a while back with him and Jack, another friend from the same circle. Jack and I still hang out from time to time.

I am really amazed at how long my hair was in this photo. In fact, it may grow to be that long again. It is getting quite long, and when I went to the salon last weekend, I asked them to just trim it up a bit so I could keep letting it grow. As for my figure, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be that thin again, but I’m working on it. I’m back in the swing of things at the gym! Maybe I’ll carry this photo with me as a motivator.