Sunday, April 29, 2018

Truth Hurts

The Lincoln was superficial validation.

The Hyundai is reality.

Friday, April 27, 2018

Tonight

Going to see Joe Bonamassa tonight.

Hampton Beach Casino.

Hate the Casino. Love Bonamassa.

Blues, baby. Rockin', soulful, from the heart, expose the soul blues.

This man is amazing. He plays guitar as if he was Jesus' handpicked entertainer.

Fucking amazing.

Been a long, rough haul over the past year. Been a while since I got a chance to dig some live music, music that makes me who I am; music that keeps me alive.

Going without Carol. A little guilt there, but then again this is not the type of concert she would dig.

We had tickets to see David Crosby at the Tupelo Music Hall last year. Show was on November 18. Carol had her brain surgery on November 2, so it didn't work out. Luckily I was able to sell the tickets for full value on the night of the concert.

That was crazy good and, obviously, a sign that Jesus loves me.

Anyway I was a bit heartbroken about that because Croz is a sensitive troubadour whose solo music is exquisite. I have never seen him solo.

But I was also heartbroken about what Carol was going through and I could not leave her alone.

So I have tonight. I am psyched. Going with a close, much-loved friend of mine and a couple other guys.

I do hate the Casino. This place would have been good when I was a crazy-ass teenager but I am way beyond that. First of all they pack you in. No fucking elbow room. I need room to roam. I need room to breathe in the music and exhale sublime happiness.

Invariably, you gotta wait a fucking hour and a half to get through the men's room. There is always a line.

I am 64. I have zero patience for lines; I believe I have earned the right to not wait in any line anywhere. I believe I have earned the right to comfort and ease.

I am 64. I have to piss a lot.

SO............I will not be drinking beer. In fact I will not be drinking much at all.

Last time me and my friend went to the Casino it was close to a disaster. I brought a sleeve of Jack Daniels nips for the ride to and fro. For me. My friend does not even drink hard stuff.

For some strange reason he did that night. Needless to say he got shitfaced. We both got shitfaced. Neither one of us should have driven that night but we did.

Carol killed me when I got home. Rightfully so.

That will not happen tonight.

I am not over the top crazy about this. It is just something that I need.

Something that I really need.

I think my soul will be somewhat resuscitated tonight. I think my heart will be partially healed.

Can't wait.

Thursday, April 26, 2018

A Nice Cardigan

I am so cold all the time that even if I lived on the sun, I would be wearing a sweater.

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Should I Stay or Should I Go

Back in February I got a copy of Time magazine with these words on the cover in bold type:

"How To Live Longer Better."

I still have it. What does that tell you?

I gotta admit at the age of 64 I find myself reading stuff like this, which is so unlike me. I don't believe anything anybody says about the secrets of longevity, whether the philosophy involves exercise and healthy eating, or drinking a quart of whiskey a day.

In fact I don't believe anything anybody says unless it's: "Joe, you're the greatest human who ever lived". That seems plausible to me.

Health and longevity are individual things. Everybody's body reacts differently to stress, alcohol, exercise, diet. It is just one more thing that makes us individuals.

Personally I'm hoping that excessive whiskey consumption and cheeseburgers are the ticket; I just wish I knew. If I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that was the answer for me, I would swill whiskey like water and chow beef like it was going out of style.

But I'm not sure, so every once in a while I tend to pull back a bit. 'Cause I don't want to die on a note of unfinished business. But who the hell knows - maybe vacillating between a semi-healthy regimen and an "I just don't give a shit" attitude will actually kill me sooner. Maybe you just gotta commit.

I have a strange relationship with death. It has always been on my mind. I am kind of obsessed with it. More so now than ever, obviously, since I can actually see The Grim Reaper beckoning me with his long, bony finger.

Very simplistic angle - I just can't imagine myself not being around. I am sitting here right now - I am Joe, husband to Carol, father of Keith and Craig. I've been around awhile, I have done things, lived a life (such as it is), made some kind of mark.

My brain cannot grasp the idea that one day I will just be gone. But I will and there ain't nothing I can do about it.

BUT until then there is NAD+, short for nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide.  If you can pronounce them, drop those three words at your next cocktail party and feel your self-esteem grow as your friends gaze up at you admiringly.

According to Time, this is "a molecule found in all living cells and is critical for regulating cellular aging...".

Normal levels of this stuff in people and animals diminish significantly over time. Research shows that if you pump this stuff back into older mice, they look and act younger and live longer than expected.

That's good enough for me. Get me 100,000 pills of this stuff. Just back a dump truck into my driveway, I'll be out there with a shovel and a bucket.

Of course the plan is to take NAD+ research through the approval process of the FDA. This of course will take a thousand years.

BUT there is a company called Elysium that is already selling a supplement call Basis that contains compounds known to boost NAD+ levels. They get away with this by calling it a supplement rather than a drug, which allows them to circumvent the FDA approval process.

Ain't America great.

Turns out it is available on Amazon. In fact there a bunch of different people selling it. I can get a bottle of 60 pills for $39.85. One of these days, when Carol isn't looking, I'll buy up some of that good stuff.

Truthiness: For the most part, in case your knowledge of me isn't nuanced, I am being facetious about all this. I don't really believe in a magic pill. But there is a tiny portion of my brain that keeps saying "Might not hurt to try it out". That portion of my brain was not active when I was 25.

In the meantime, I think I will throw out that issue of Time, pour myself a short whiskey and lose myself in the pages of Playboy.

Tuesday, April 17, 2018

Just Your Average Life

"Sometimes I don't know where this dirty road is taking me,
sometimes I can't even see the reason why,
but I guess I keep a-gamblin,
lots of booze and lots of ramblin'
well it's easier than just a-waitin' around to die"

"Waiting Round To Die",    Townes Van Zandt

Perfect Quote

"For me, a pessimist is an optimist with experience."

Bob Ryan,   "Scribe"

Carol always tries to paint me as a pessimist. She is wrong about that. I am a realist. I love Bob Ryan's quote. But when it comes to describing me, I don't like the word"pessimist". I don't like the negative connotation it carries with it.

Realist is much more accurate.

Even after 40 years of marriage there are some things Carol has wrong about me.

She thinks I drink too much whiskey.

I think I drink just enough.

A Blues Take on Lovin' Your Dog

Been hearing this song a lot lately on blues radio. Brand new song. I love it. Man, you gotta love music - ain't no restrictions, no guidelines - say what you want, what moves you, in any way you want.

Dig it.


"Wish I could read the minds of women,  wish I had gills for swimmin',
 wish I had movie star looks, I wish I knew every trick in the book.
I'd like to feel first love again, and be 20 years younger,
But the greatest wish I want to come true,
I want my dog to live longer.

Wish I was the king of rock 'n roll,  wish I was cool and in the know,
and I wish I'd wrote Blowin' in the Wind.
I'd like to see my late mother again.
I'd like to stop poverty, save this world from hunger,
But the greatest wish, oh I want to come true,
I want my dog to live longer.

I want my dog to live longer, 'cause when he goes I'll be blue.
And if I had the power, I'd have him live as long as me and you.
'cause God's got a reason for everything, and in the Lord I trust,
But this ain't right, God needs to see the light,
'cause dogs don't live long enough.

He cheers me up when I'm sad, he's the best friend I've ever had,
and I don't care where his nose has been, I let him lick my face again and again.
His love is unconditional, and that just makes me stronger,

So the greatest wish I want to come true,
I want my dog to live longer.

Oh, the greatest wish I want to come true,
I want my dog to live longer"

"I Want My Dog To Live Longer (The Greatest Wish),     Curtis Salgado and Alan Hager

A Variation on the Dog Theme (Still, another reason to love the blues............and dogs, sort of)

And a slightly different old tymey take.

"Now lend an ear folks while I sing this song,
Don't get mad, I don't mean no harm!
I want to play with your poodle,
I want to play with your poodle,
I want to play with your poodle,
I mean your little poodle dog!

Yes, that little poodle got a long shaggy tail,
Well I tried to buy him but he wasn't for sale!
Can I play with your poodle?
Can I play with your poodle?
Can I play with your poodle?
I mean your little poodle dog!

Oh, when I went down to town with my hat in my hand,
I was lookin' for a woman, didn't have no man!
I want to play with your poodle,
I want to play with your poodle,
I want to play with your poodle,
I mean your little poodle dog!

Yes, two old maids that were layin' in a bed,
Well, one turned over, this is what she said;
"Can I play with your poodle?
Can I play with your poodle?
Can I play with your poodle?
I mean your little poodle dog!".

Now Lily ol' woman, what you tryin' to do?
Tryin' to lower my brother and lower me too!
Wanna play with your poodle,
I wanna play with your poodle,
I wanna play with your poodle,
I mean your little poodle dog!
Play it loud!"

Lighnin' Hopkins,     "Let Me Play With Your Poodle"

It Hurts Me Too

Thinking about Carol all the time.

Every day breaks my heart. EVERY day.

The blues keep me operational. I hear "It Hurts Me Too" a lot. The song is about a man who loves a woman who loves another man. That is irrelevant to my point.

The chorus is:

"When things go wrong, go wrong with you, it hurts me too."

Couldn't say it any simpler. It crushes me every time.

Thursday, April 12, 2018

With Extreme Clarity

Unexpectedly, unpredictably, inexplicably, he was given a crystal clear glimpse into the future.

He saw it. He saw it in the people around him in the building. He felt it in his broken heart and dying soul. He heard it in words meant to soothe; words that sliced his heart open and mutilated his soul

It was horrifying.

Darkness. A complete and devastating lack of dignity. No money. The impossibility of pride. Soul-suffocating surrender to everything he despised about life.

He was crushed.

Back at home there was no choice but to pursue numbness. He did this with extreme prejudice.

He also formulated two trains of thought.

One, probably delusional, born of desperation - a commitment to fight back. To pursue dignity. Against all odds. Vegas handicappers prediction for success - a million to one.

But gambling is fun, something that has been sorely missing for decades. Why not go for it?

The other, more realistic - a realization that if things remain on the current track, at some point a quick exit will be required. It would become inevitable.

Inevitable and achievable.

Two trains of thought, same eventual outcome, one path comforting, one path devastating.

Options become severely limited over time; reality inevitably becomes crystal clear. Viciously so.

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Not Easy

"Gonna get me a little oblivion
  Try to keep myself away from me"

"Perfect Blue Buildings",   Counting Crows

True

"These train conversations are passing me by
        and I don't have nothing to say
         You get what you paid for
But I just had no intention of living this way"

"Raining in Baltimore",   Counting Crows

Killing Optimism

Some days you just wake up depressed.

Nothing you can do about it and you know you are not gonna come out of it.

What to do?

Wallow in it. Indulge the feeling.

You don't owe anybody anything.

First of all, dial up The Counting Crows. "August and Everything After". Every song on that album will complement your despair.

Except maybe "Mr. Jones". That one might get you up dancing and smiling and that's OK. You are allowed to feel good in an empty-hearted way, you can smile a little at the lyrics without losing your perspective.

Sink down in your recliner and listen to the album all the way through. Smoke a joint, sip a little whiskey, down a shot of tequila. Whatever destructive urge feeds the monster.

When the album ends you should be loosened up and ready for the main attraction, the darkest of the dark.

"Requiem for a Dream".

The darkest, most hopeless movie ever made.

You will need another shot of whiskey or tequila or both to brace yourself for this baby. Keep the bottle by your side.

Then dive in.

Your raw emotions are about to get dangerous; you will be slapped around, abused, shocked, disgusted and destroyed.

Just what the doctor ordered.

This movie will make your life seem like a cake walk by way of comparison, but that is not the point.

The point is to make yourself one with the characters, to feel their pain and hopelessness and loss of control and despair just as they feel it. Let it knife into your gut and your soul and kill any last, desperate impulse for optimism you might have.

When the movie ends you will be drained. You might have to take a nap. Or drink yourself into oblivion. Whatever you need to finish this day off in style.

And prepare yourself for tomorrow. When you drag your ass in to work and somebody asks "How's it going?"

And you reply "Not bad at all."

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

Nobody Glows (or do they?)

Walking around Monday morning feeling happy.

Even though I had to go to work. Very strange.

Of course I was astonished and had to take a minute to analyze the origin.

I traced it back to Easter. Specifically Easter dinner.

I can hear you now. Jesus Christ, Joe - must I endure another "had the family over for dinner and it was magnificent" rant?

'Fraid so.

This felt different. Maybe because Carol's health issues have settled into a slow moving, emotional numbness. Our life is a bit strange. A bit below a happiness level.

Thanksgiving came around less than a month after her brain surgery; Christmas followed closely on its heels. Followed by the winter slog.

Carol's progress has been slow. She still maintains a fierce warrior spirit and because of that I know she will emerge victorious. But she has expressed her frustration to me many times and I don't blame her. This has been so hard on her.

We fight our way through a vicious winter and our emotions, months go by with little to be happy about (except the magnificent anniversary dinner that Eddie, Keith and Craig put together), and then Keith, Craig, Eddie and Carolina arrive for Easter dinner.

Boom. Instantaneous happiness.

Every visit is good, but some are better than others because they are subject to the vagaries of what it means to be human.

Sunday just flowed. So comfortable, so enjoyable.

Sometimes I experience life in miniature movie scenes in my head. Eddie and Carolina left first. When Keith and Craig got ready to leave, Craig was standing by the French doors and Keith was in between me and Craig.

It was semi dark, the porch lights were on behind Craig. I looked at these two men and the moment was framed in my mind. And the two words that blow me away every time, invaded my thoughts.

My sons.

That's all it takes to lift me up.

I had a happiness hangover on Monday morning. That sweet delicious break from the day to day of what Carol is going through was enough to carry me into the next day.

I felt good. I know Carol did too. We talked about it, how enjoyable Easter dinner was.

That's what family is all about.

If family can lift you above whatever hard thing you have to deal with, that is powerful.

That is all you need.