Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Lots of Death Today

Are you fucking kidding me?

The Tuesday after Memorial Day Weekend.

People are shattered. Especially considering the fact that it rained for 2 days of the weekend. At least around here.

Campers, barbecuers, partyers - Jesus Fucking Christ - that is a boatload of frustration.

Suicides. No doubt about it. Johnny Fuckubot wakes up to the 5 am alarm, with a vicious fucking hangover and thinks: "This is it. I cannot fucking take anymore."

He reaches into the nightstand, grabs his Glock G43, presses the barrel right up against the side of his head, says "Fuck this life" - and pulls the trigger.

Blood and bits of brain spray onto his wife's face, who wakes up to the sudden explosion and says: "You fucking asshole, one more mess you left behind that I have to clean up. Then again, good riddance, loser - now I can wrap my legs around young Johnny LoverHot. Ciao, baby."

                                                                or

Frankie Sucksatlife reports to work with his tail between his legs and his pride tucked away in the freezer. Head down, he does his job until his boss - Bobby Jerksoffalot - says: "Frankie - for Christ sake, man - you are moving too slow, your work is sloppy and your attitude sucks."

Whereupon Frankie reaches under his greasy workbench, grabs the Taurus Raging Bull Model 444 Revolver 44 magnum, lifts that puppy up, points it into his boss's face and proceeds to blow his boss's face - and head - clean off.

Yeah, there is a lot of death today. But it feels clean. It feels necessary.

America is a land chock full of opportunity.

Saturday, May 26, 2018

An Alternative Approach

"One more", Joe Mack said, pleading, his eyes watery. "You know, I'm an alcoholic. I always liked being an alcoholic. One of the only good things that ever happened to me. This could be my last drink, forever."

"Storm Prey", by John Sandford.

This just may be the greatest, most honest quote in the entire recorded history of fiction.

I love it because:

Everybody has rules today. Opinions. Things that good people just don't do.

The people with these opinions don't know a fucking thing about life. They only know about their lives and they assume that what is right for them is right for everyone.

Bull fucking shit.

People do whatever they have to do to survive. This life is enormously painful, it is nothing but disappointment for most of us, it is an exercise in wondering why we even struggle to stay alive.

Death seems like such a peaceful alternative.

Or alcoholism, or drug addiction, or self abuse or..............name your fucking poison.

No one has the right to judge whatever someone else does to survive. However dark that may be.

"I always liked being an alcoholic."

There are very few people who could accept that statement as rational.

That is because they have an irrational opinion of themselves as superior.

Mindless, fucking, lemmings.

Please Die

Walking to my car after work last night.

Two very young dudes in a pickup truck drove past me.

With:

A full-size American flag on the right side of the truck bed, and a full size flag on the left side of the truck bed that said: Donald Trump - Making America Great Again.

This country is fucked if this represents the future of America.

Headed in the Wrong Direction

I am driving in to work yesterday afternoon. 1:45. Working 2 to 6.

Why such a weird shift you ask, and rightfully so.

Carol had a follow-up appointment at Dartmouth-Hitchcock at 10:30. It's an hour drive for us. So it kills a lot of time.

Predictable appointment. At least the way it has been for a while. They listen to Carol, she talks about the progress she is making, the tiny, little signs of moving forward, the hard work she is putting in. AND the fucking enormous frustration she feels at how slowly this is all going.

They tell her she is on track.

Actually, it is a good deal. It is a positive thing. They are very supportive, no condescension, they tell the truth. They acknowledge the slowness of the process, but they give Carol the motivation she needs to keep on fighting.

Got home at 12:30. Carol had the rest of the day off, for which I am grateful. It was a beautiful day and she deserves it.

I consumed a little lunch and hit the road.

Memorial Day Weekend is a powerful and confusing thing. For some people it is a genuine three day weekend. A weekend that promises complete abandon. Cookouts, concerts, booze, drugs, milk, prayer and everything in between. The unofficial kick off of summer.

It carries a lot of weight.

Some people have to work it. One day, two days, all three days. Life in America is a sadly disappointing thing for most people. There are no breaks. No rest. No reward. Life is a fucking grind, a horrible, hopeless, soul sucking grind.

I am not in that category. Yeah, I had to work 2-6 on Friday night of Memorial Day Weekend, I had to work today from 10:45 to 2:15. BUT I had many years as a privileged "professional" who had holidays, three day weekends, sick time, every goddamn benefit available to people who mostly don't deserve it.

ANYWAY...................

I am driving to work yesterday in complete opposition to the happy people, the lucky people, who were heading north with trailers, coolers, campers - every goddamn thing that could provide them with short term happiness.

Bummed me out a bit. Even though it really doesn't matter. Carol and I are not doing anything exciting this weekend. Or any long weekend, really.

It was just the palpable, very heavy feeling that all these people - and it was a strong and steady stream of traffic - were gleefully traveling north. And I was going to work.

Along with millions of other people to whom the long weekend means absolutely nothing.

That, my friends, is the power of the Memorial Day Weekend.

Summer is sacred to the working man and woman. You get the chance to squeeze in some easy living in between hard shifts of dignity-killing obligation.

It is something. It is something that is really real. Everybody NEEDS validation for the fact that they are human.

Before they get beat down again. Relentlessly.

For the record, this morning was a whole different thing to me. I was in a rock'n'roll mood. Had the sun roof open, the windows down, radio LOUD. Walked into Dunkin Donuts and picked up my On the Go order while a whole bunch of losers waited in line for the opportunity to place an order and wait 15 minutes for it to be ready.

I sang like a crazy man on the road.

Sometimes you just have to reclaim your dignity in your own way in your own style.

Fuck it, baby. Kiss my ass.

Friday, May 25, 2018

What I Fucking Hate

The closest Arbys is 45 minutes away.

If Arbys and Taco Bell were 5 minutes from my house I would never go food shopping again.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Indisputable Truth

Pets are easier to please than humans are.

And a lot easier to love.

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Bonamassa Redux (hope you weren't holding your breath)

Forgot to close the book on this one.

What a night.

Joe Bonamassa is the kind of guitar player who makes you look at your friend and say "Holy Shit - do you believe that?" Over and over again. We were blown away.

Mind blowing, excellent, over the top, heartfelt blues. Christ, I live for that.

We were in a suite. FOR FREE. One of those rooms up above the great unwashed - the riff raff.

My friend works for the liquor commission; the booze distributors pay for these suites and give them away to the deserving elite. Like us.

The suite holds maybe 20 people comfortably. There were only 6 of us in it - me and my friends and one other couple - so we had room to roam, baby.

A dedicated waitress popping in to take drink orders. Bartenders who do not shy away from generous pours. And a bathroom right down the hall.

That is the only way to do the Casino.

I had to exercise restraint and I was tested early. We met at Ryan's apartment; recently divorced, a genuine bachelor pad, clothes on the floor, sparsely furnished. Ryan and David were smoking up some weed like it was going out of style. David is in his mid twenties, Ryan maybe early thirties.

I took one small hit. I am human after all. Eric, my main man, my close friend was behaving quite well since he was driving to and from the Casino and had our lives in his hands.

Eric is 63. I am 64. All night long, David and Ryan kept calling us The Dads. We of course told them to fuck off. Repeatedly.

Had a couple of generous whiskeys at the Casino but all in all, I surprised myself with my self control.

Apparently I am maturing.

Anyway, I had my night and it was a spectacular night. Filled up with what I need to get through this life - good friends, the blues, whiskey, and a touch of insanity.

It was a taste. Been quite a while. I am now on a mission to revive live music in our life in 2018.

Got free concerts in Henniker every Tuesday night.

Got an outdoor all day blues concert in August half an hour down the road. We attended this annual event a few years ago. Gorgeous day. I had a cooler with beer and whiskey as I dug on the blues; Carol was working on the gorgeous bed spread that now adorns our bed. That is who we are. And the coolest thing was that people kept stopping by to tell Carol how beautiful the bedspread was. Great day; great memory.

Found a bar that I like - Area 23 in Concord. They got a lot of music going on. Reconnected with an old friend who plays guitar; we went to see him in Area 23 last week which exposed me to the joint. Apparently, he plays there a lot.

Catch my drift? There is a lot available out there for cheap money. We just gotta get off our asses.

I am feeling good about 2018. Carol and I really need a good year. I want to make the most of the warm weather; most of all I want to see Carol be happy.

I have never been more tuned in to Carol's happiness than I am right now. Probably sad to say, but also probably true of almost all long term marriages. You settle in to routine and that routine is not exciting. You get too comfortable with each other and forget what an amazing thing it is to have someone by your side.

I learned not to cry as easily when Carol went through the worst of all this. Christ, I couldn't break down every time I updated someone on her condition right after surgery. I learned to swallow my tears, which is something I never thought I would be able to do.

Now, I shed a couple of tears almost every day but I do it in private. I want so badly for Carol to get her health back and it hurts so badly to experience her enormous frustration.

Sometimes they are tears of joy. When she comes home and excitedly tells me she is getting a tingle on the right side of her nose, my heart almost leaps out of my chest. I have to turn away and let a tear trickle down my cheek in stealth.

Our life came crashing down last summer when she was diagnosed and the pain continued throughout a long, vicious winter.

But we are here now. Warm weather. Easy living. I got a chance to cut loose a little bit doing something that I love and it was tremendous.

Now I gotta get us both there. I try to make the most of every summer, but this year it is an obsession.

I want to see Carol enjoying herself as much as possible.

Bonamassa gave me some juice; a shot in the arm, something that made me feel more like me. It felt really good.

Now I want that for both of us.



Thursday, May 10, 2018

Innumerable.......

the number of mornings I have awakened in my life and thought to myself: "Wow - I did not make today any easier on myself last night".

Monday, May 7, 2018

Not Yet, Motherfucker

I can see the finish line from here.

I have no choice but to fake a hamstring injury.

Tuesday, May 1, 2018

WTF?

Time magazine just came out with their "100 Most Influential People" issue for 2018.

Once again I did not make the list.

They included people like J.J. Watt, Jimmy Kimmel, Roger Federer, Jeff Bezos, Elon Musk, Emmanuel Macron and Robert Mueller, to name a few.

You mean to tell me I don't stack up against those stiffs?

I sense a conspiracy.

Not only that, they did include a guy named Giuliano Testa. Testa, for Christ sake.

Dr. Giuliano Testa is an expert in kidney and liver transplantation. He also pioneered the way for uterus transplants. Some women are born without a uterus and up until recently, uterus transplants have not been a viable option.

Dr. Testa put together a groundbreaking clinical trial that included 10 women. As a result, one of the participants recently gave birth to the first baby born via uterus transplant in the U.S.

Big, fucking deal.