I Used To Be A Man, Now I Am A Sea Otter

Rockford, IL – Timothy Krill was his own man for 27 years of his life.  A local carpenter who built homes with his bare hands for himself, his family, and friends.  The first home he remembers building was at the age of 14.  Mr. Krill swam up onto the banks of the ol’ Rock River to talk to us:

“I knew in school that sports ball games and girls were a waste of time and money.  I knew what I wanted to do early on in life while everyone else my age got high, laid, and drunk—in any order.  I went to work at 14—what did those people do?  Nothing.  Amateurs.”

And then he fell in love.

Timothy tells us, “Everything was great til I turned 40.  I wasn’t really looking for anyone.  Lonnie came to me and stalked me for awhile.  Eventually she romanced me enough to earn a key to one of my many homes.  I only have myself to blame now. I used to be my own man.  I wasn’t an idiot like I am now.  I never let women, friends, and family dictate my life but now I am a sea otter.”

Krill admitted to us that everything he worked for in life is now gone.

“Poof.  Up in air.  I lost it all when I fell in love.

All of a sudden people asked me, “Don’t you want children? Aren’t you afraid of growing old without children?” No, not once have I ever cared about the future because a large asteroid could hit earth and knock us all out. Until that asteroid comes, no, I am not worried.  Children are expensive.  There is a 0 financial return on investment and time invested.

Emotional ROI?  Uh.  Do you think a man who can build homes with his own hands has time for assessing an EMOTIONAL ROI? Come on, you f*****g amateurs.  

Guess what?  I was right about those thoughts. Now I am an amateur too. All of that time, money, and energy I earned from being my own man is now going into being a sea otter who wakes up before the sun rises and returns home after the sun sets.

All of a sudden I now have emotions that have debilitated by decision making skills.  I have no say in anything.  I’ve become everything I said I would never be at age 14.

I drink until I can’t think straight to fall asleep so that I can tolerate the waking hours I’ve misspent being an “employee” and “husband” and “father.”

Ugh, it’s my own worst nightmare!  I don’t build homes with my own hands anymore because I needed to find a new career to pay for all of this Emotional ROI, children, insurances.  Sea otter, man.  I’m a sea otter!

AR-AR-AR!

Oh my, the tears are flowing.

AR-AR-AR!

I liked building homes with my bare hands without having to answer to anyone else.  Homes are memories that live longer than humans do.  Ok, so, it might not be an asteroid that takes us all out.  The Rockford War might destroy the last 27 years of my hard work—those nice handmade homes—but I’ve researched the life of a home vs. the life of a human being, and guess what?  The work I did alone, building homes with my bare hands, will last longer than the child I built with my wife, Lonnie! Listen to me scream my “AR-AR-AR!”

AR-AR-AR!

Everyday I swim to the shore and think, “I am a shell of a man.  No—I am a sea otter!”

Oh s**t f**k balls, I’m going to cry.  All of my hard work is gone—up in smoke.  This is my reality now:

The homes I built with my bare hands–alone with no help–that I drive by every single day to my new 6am to 6pm career causes me to swim upstream to Beloit but I rarely make it to the North Towne mall parking lot to cry like a sea otter.

Sometimes when I’m done crying in the North Towne mall parking lot, I buy a McGriddle to feel better, but most days I don’t because I’m late for my new career—swimming through miles of litter along the banks of the Rock River. 

I used to have dreams but that all changed.  I’m the shell of a man who became a sea otter.

AR-AR-AR!”

— Chief Tchad Beale

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