QBall’s Tales

We’ve all heard it before. If you keep all of your emotions bottled up inside, sooner or later your going to explode.

This is a very bad habit that many of us find ourselves in. The reasons we do it may be different. The results, always the same. Catastrophe. A violent mess.

Some know no better. Others do, and yet do it anyway. For many, its the easy way out. Bottle it all up inside, never to be dealt with. Forgotten. Yet, there are others for whom the bottle and cork are necessary. Part of “the job” they say. A necessary evil. For these, it may true indeed be necessary to take their emotions and place them in a bottle and slam that cork in. Military, firefighter, cop, ambulance crew. It truly does become necessary for these to remain emotion less when on duty. For if not, their very lives could be in jeopardy. For it is true that emotion does in fact cloud and impair ones judgment at times. I should hope that these people have learned to pull the cork out once in a while. Much like one does with a fine bottle of wine. Pull the cork to allow it to breath. Pour some out maybe… Unwind. De compress.

Occasionally, we hear that one has exploded. Gone off the deep end. While preventable, its not all that uncommon.

I think I find myself between these two groups at times. I seem content to remain free of emotion. Cold. Preferring to keep it all held in the bottle by a firmly planted cork. It has become far to easy. In doing so, the world need not see nor understand, nor feel my emotions. They remain inside. Locked away. Hidden behind the cork in the bottle.

The sad truth is, this behavior has made me rather difficult at times to be around. Something that upon discovery has me deeply troubled. Perplexed. What do I do? How. When. Where. There is no need for my emotions to remain locked in a bottle.

A bottle opener is all that’s needed. Like that wine bottle. Pull the cork and pour some out.

For it is true that human emotion is what truly makes each of us human. Individuals. Loving. Kind. Gentle. Not like the cold, hard facade. But, rather more like the bottle of fine wine.


The Facade, the hard stone exterior of a building… Impervious to the elements. Hard. Cold. Not very snugly.

The facade is something I’ve learned to use myself. As the son of a military veteran and cop as well as being a veteran myself, the facade comes easily. The only way to deal with life is to put up that hard, cold, stone exterior facade. Trudge on, get the job done, impervious, unaffected, rock hard, stone cold. It just works…

Well, most of the time it works. When upset, tired, angry, among strangers, in the line of duty the facade becomes a real and necessary part of life. Without it, the man appears weak… easy prey. There comes a time that it truly becomes necessary to wear the facade or mask if you will. I guess its that warrior mentality. Put all emotion in a bottle and slam the cork in hard. Then present a hard, stone cold, zero emotion exterior. This behavior just happens to some. Its caused by dealing with situations where it truly is necessary to wear that facade in order to mentally handle life’s current situation. This is also a learned behavior. Much like one learns to open a door for a lady.

For me, I’ve learned through self examination these past few days that I wear the facade all too often. I think I will make an attempt to work on this. I know its made me hard to deal with. Some would say it makes me hard to live with.

I shall try to work on this. However, its going to be rather hard to change a learned behavior. Especially one that comes all to easy.

Its time I listen to thy Dear Wife.


We’ve all heard countless times before how laughter is the best medicine.

I disagree. I believe laughter takes second fiddle to crying. I’m not talking about the little cry when you stub your toe on the dresser.

I’m talking about the crying that comes from deep down in the center of ones Soul. The kind of thing that happens when we lose a Dear loved one.

My close friends know me to be hard as steel and cold as stone. Little do they know that its just a facade. An exterior, a facade.

Monday morning, I found myself in the bedroom dressing for the long day that lay ahead. I buttoned my collar button and tied the perfect knot in my tie. As I picked up my coat, something unusual happened. I’d lost my usual stone cold hard facade.

I somehow managed to make it through the funeral service. Everyone was finding a seat for lunch. I was just fine until my Dear Mother walked over and whispered in my ear “its ok to smile.”

I told my Mother I couldn’t. The pain was to deep. I hurt too bad to smile. I stood there. In the middle of the Social hall. Hugging my Mother as the tears rolled down my face. I finally sat at the table with my Dear Wife and children. I’m not sure how long I sat in that chair with my head in my hands. Tears pouring down like rain. Crying. A man in deep pain. I remember my Father hugging my from behind. I remember my son Alex moving over and taking the chair next to me. He too was crying. He was crying because he could see his Daddy was in pain. I remember thinking I needed to be strong. Strong for my Family. They needed that from me.

Much to my displeasure (though I know it was for my own good) my Dear Wife Tammy and Aunt Margaret made countless attempts to get me to smile and laugh. Their attempts were in vain. I could not laugh nor smile. For it was my day to mourn the loss of my Grand Father.

It is for me crying that is the best medicine. Crying heal all wounds. Even the deepest.

Laughter and a smile will come in time.


I’ve come to find through talking with “the older” generation that there are a few things that help make a man successful in life. Some of these things are harder than others.

The best piece of advice I’ve found from “the older” generation should be simple enough. However, for most of us men its not an easy thing.

I was told by my GrandFather to listen to my Wife. He said “Even though times may be tough, if you will listen to your Wife you will make it.”

This bit of advice was tucked away in a file somewhere in my mind. Didn’t really think about it much. It just made sense. I was married. I “always” listened to my Wife. Or so I thought.

This past Monday my family packed into our Yukon. We were all dressed in our finest. For this was the day we were going to say our final goodbye’s to my Grand Father. The Great Patriarch of the Davey Family. As I was just about to back out of the driveway my Wife suddenly realized she’d forgotten something in the house. As she stepped out of the truck she looked at me and said, “call work and tell them you want tomorrow off also. Your in no condition to drive today and I don’t want you out driving tonight either.” Without even thinking about it I made the call.

I listened. She was more than correct. I was in No condition to be behind the wheel of my SUV let alone my 80,000# semi-truck.

I Listened. I can’t even express how much I appreciate my Wife telling me to take Tuesday off also.

Guys, Listen to thy Wife.