Maka Is Spreading The Love Around

Maka has really taken charge.

She has us smiling and laughing and talking about her 28 times a day.

The most noticeable and coolest thing she does is to distribute her love.

Every once in a while she'll be curled up in my lap. She'll stand up, stretch, walk across the end table and the scratching post and curl up on the couch next to Carol. Leaning her body and head into Carol.

It makes Carol so happy.

This is unheard of. I am the King of cat lap sitting. They always sat in my lap. Always.

I like to believe it is because I am the ultimate source of human love. The truth is it is more comfortable for them because of the angle of the recliner.

Used to be Carol rarely had a cat in her lap or next to her. Things have changed.

Maka says "I know you guys need soothing right now; you need love. I am here to give it. Equitably".

I am not jealous. It makes me happy to see how happy it makes Carol.

As soon as Maka starts to make the move Carol slides over a bit and fluffs up the towel she keeps right next to her for just such an eventuality.

I can look at their reflection in the fish tank. I see Maka curled up contentedly, sleeping; I sense Carol's contentment.

It makes me smile.

Smiles are hard to come by right now. Maka delivers consistently.

The comfort this little cat brings, especially as we deal with the horribleness of the world as it is right now, is absolutely immeasurable.

This Is So Fucking Hard

Everything I am doing is good.

Good for my body, good for my mind. I am diligent about it all. I am not sitting around watching movies and eating Hostess cupcakes.

I feel good about myself. When is the last time you heard me say that? Possibly never.

I am keeping myself active and distracted. Challenged. I can forget about coronavirus for big chunks of time.

But it keeps coming back.

When I leave the house I gotta have the mask. The paranoia ramps up.

 The strangeness of the world when you walk into a store or talk to other people or pick up take out food - everything is weird and upside down and a constant reminder that we are in a strange new world that we know nothing about.

We don't know when it is going to end. We don't know how it is going to end. We don't know what our lives will be like on the other side. We are financially unsure.

Can't watch sports or attend concerts or go out to eat.

This shit is like a heavy blanket that you cannot get out from under.

Turn on the fucking TV and get assaulted with horrible news and mind blowing statistics.

Thank god I developed the disciplines that I did when I did. Right up front. At the very beginning.

As soon as I was sent home I jumped all over this shit. Gonna get healthy. Gonna get smart. Gonna get knowledgeable. Gonna redirect my brain.

I think a lot of this was a reaction to who I know I am. Or who I can be, at my worst.

Whiskey swilling and depressed.

I feel so good about what I am doing. I feel so good about myself.

But I cannot get out from under this blanket.

These are hard times. Depressing times. Good habits are vital. Finding small ways to be positive can help you survive.

Succumbing to despair is deadly.

I am dizzy with how hard the struggle is, given the nature of our lives right now.

No one ever asked for this.

Pay Attention

Been distracted this week.

Monday I had to file paperwork with the City of Concord. They gave me the option of getting laid off or being furloughed. Furlough means I am still on the active payroll, not getting paid, but available to be called back to work.

I chose furlough. At least I have a chance of getting the job back. Who knows what the job market will look like once we "get through this"? I might not have any options at all. Better to at least have a chance of a job in my back pocket.

Tuesday I contacted Hyundai to arrange six months of deferred payments. Gotta do it through corporate, not the dealer. That has been a pain in the ass. They have been unresponsive. They assigned me a case # but no information about what documentation they need from me. Yesterday I raised holy hell with the dealer just to stir things up. They explained that corporate is swamped; I gotta keep trying. I explained that I will do that for a while but if I get no response I'll be back in touch with the dealer to raise holy hell again.

Yesterday I filed for unemployment. That went easier than expected. I emailed the manager of the Concord office with multiple questions and she got back to me immediately. Blows my mind. She must be getting 134,000 emails/day.

Today I got the unemployment benefit amount. $178.00/week. A little disappointed with that. Expected more. I was bringing home over $400/week between the two jobs. Maybe it's fair. I don't know. She mentioned that "if I am deemed eligible" they are distributing an additional $600/week of federal money.

So there's hope. Maybe a prorated amount based on my part time status.

Did not think the world could get any weirder. This week it did.

I want to dig deep today. Get honest. When I am in here sometimes I'm just an entertainer putting on a show. Feel like I am skimming the surface. Feels that way to me ever since Carol got sick in 2017. I feel like something is missing in the writing. Feels darker. More hopeless. A lot of what I wrote before then had humor, an interesting perspective, some intelligence.

I am going to try to get raw today.

I have no clue where my life is at right now. Like millions of others. Feeling a bit shaky about this thing we confidently call "the future".

I am 66. This could be the way my life ends. We will not come out of this easily. Masks, social distancing, fear - not going away for a while. The economy is not going to bounce back for a long while. What if unemployment benefits run out before jobs bounce back? You think people will be looking to hire 66 year olds? The weak and vulnerable?

Will I spend the rest of my life scrapping and scraping just to survive?

I am doing great things for my body and my mind. Really throwing myself into it, banging away every day. Now I will have even more time and I plan on filling it up.

But what is the endgame for me?

I am thinking lately that I don't want to go out like a pussy. I need to get strong.

I worry a lot. Worry is weak. Worry comes from fear. I have been weak all my life. Emotional. Irrational. Self-destructive.

The thing I really need is to go out strong. I don't want to be afraid of anything. I don't want worry. Which is a bold statement to make when there is so much to worry about right now.

But really what is the point of worrying now? I have survived a lot of heavy shit in my life. Worry did not make any of it easier. If this really is the endgame for me, wouldn't it be better for me to go out with my head held high? Nothing I can do about how I have lived my life up to this point. But I can wipe out all the negatives if I grab this situation by the balls and just fucking deal with it. Make the most of it. Instead of crying and burying my head in the sand.

People will remember that.

That is my plan. I am not just saying that, for a change. I have laid some heavy ground work in the past month. I fucking turned this cruise ship around and headed off in a new direction. I feel excellent about what I have done and continue to do. It suits me. My brain is waking up and realizing that I am a pretty smart guy. I can accomplish a lot.

Please notice that I am not saying "I hope" this or  "If things work out". I am telling you that I will be a different man when this shit is over. I am laying it all on the line.

I am going to toughen up. And I am going to get happy. Two immediate goals taking precedence over everything else I plan on doing (and I plan on accomplishing a lot).

I can make myself happy. I am happier just from exercising my body and my brain. I feel it. The sky's the limit, baby. I am learning how to be happy. It's all in the mind. I am alert to what I am feeling and thinking, and I am questioning what I am feeling and thinking.

Every time a negative thought attacks my brain, every time I feel anxious or afraid I stop - and think to myself "where is that coming from?" Then I make it go away and feel instantaneously better.

Fucking amazing.

That was all honesty. Everything I just said is exactly what I am thinking.

I am not going out like a pussy.

I Know Exactly Where I Am At

Let's review.

For weeks now I have been pursuing positive things. Exercising religiously. Six days a week. I take one day off because I deserve it. Eating better. Eating less. Drinking less whiskey. These things benefit my health, my body and my mind.

I have been listening to podcasts; something new for me. Reading the writings of James Clear, a man whose philosophy towards life and change resonates with me.

Got references for a couple of meditation apps from Keith and Krista. Haven't checked them out yet but I will.

The goal here is to supercharge my brain, to send it off in a new direction. To find a new way of thinking. A way of thinking that will help me; not hurt me.

On Thursday I bought a brand new car. 2020 Hyndai Elantra. Love it. I feel good about it because it was a goal Carol and I established and I got it done.

We have been talking. We recognize our age and our increasing health and financial vulnerability. My car had 107,000 miles on it; Carol's has over 100,000. We knew we had to find a way to buy a new car, one that we could rely on for many years to come sans worry.

I did the research in this time of coronavirus deals, and I got it done. I felt very good, proud and powerful as I drove my trophy home Thursday afternoon.

Friday morning I got laid off from the city job. Boom. Just like that. I expected it but not in such a guillotine style. Got called and emailed Friday telling me I was done as of Friday. No warning.

That felt pretty cold to me.

I am losing the Capitol Center job as of May 2. They told me two months ago. That's the way it should be handled.

I will be gainfully unemployed as of May 2.

Here's the deal. I have had a few opportunities in my life to turn my life around, to make it my own. I  blew it every time. Wasted the opportunities. And I knew it as I was pissing them away; even as my brain recognized the potential I tortured myself with the knowledge I was accomplishing nothing.

The biggest and best opportunity was in 1985 when I got laid off from Wang labs. I was 31 years old at the time. Keith was 5, Craig was 1 and 1/2.

In those days companies treated their employees with respect (somewhat). The severance package was insane - at least 6 months with pay and benefits. Maybe a year. I don't remember. And I had access to Wang facilities; copiers, fax machines, computers, printers, counselors.

I knew I had been handed an opportunity to change my life, to escape accounting, to slip away from the corporate world. Lamely, I tried. I picked up a book called What Color Is Your Parachute; a supposed guide to changing careers. I went to see a career change counselor.

But I could not specifically define what it was I wanted to do. I was not self-aware enough, I did not try hard enough. What a fool. I got nowhere. And I am pretty sure my next job was in accounting.

Here I am in 2020. With yet another opportunity to take a shot at twisting my life into shape. Probably the last chance I will ever get.

A clean fucking slate. Nothing in front of me but possibilities. And my mind and my body are in a pretty good place.

All depends on what kind of unemployment benefits I get. If they are adequate I can go after this with everything I got. Which I will. But if the money is not enough I will have to find a way for us to survive. That could be disastrous for me.

I am looking at what is in front of me with eyes wide open. I am alert and aware. This does not have to be a catastrophe. I don't feel negative about it. I am fully aware that it could be the greatest opportunity of my life. Maybe the last great opportunity of my life.

No pressure.

On a positive note - I went food shopping yesterday. In the process I scored a package of 9
mega-rolls of Charmin Ultra-Strong toilet paper.

Life is good.

Unclaimed Bodies

Layers of suffering keep getting exposed.

The image of a mass temporary grave of unclaimed bodies being covered over in dirt on an island off of New York City is haunting.

Did you see that? The wooden coffins were buried side by side - tightly - and one on top of another. Workers were shoveling dirt over them; a bulldozer was shoving dirt over them.

Unclaimed bodies. As sad as it gets. Mass temporary grave site. As unimaginable as it gets.

As the horrors multiply, as the suffering and sadness become more apparent, the mind recoils.

Gratefulness. I am learning to be grateful.

As 20,000 people die, as families mourn, as health care workers die, as grocery store clerks die, as first responders die, I sit at home in comfort under no current financial stress.

It's a fucking vacation for me. Simple as that.

Craig left his job tending bar in November or December to work for an insurance company. He is working from home and getting paid. Amanda works where he worked - she got laid off. If Craig was still there they would both be out of work.

I am grateful he made the move when he did.

Keith recently moved from Concord to Portsmouth. Another way the coronavirus has interrupted our lives is that Carol and I haven't seen his new apartment yet. And won't for months to come. But that's not my point. Keith is much closer to his job and much closer to Krista. So his life is a little easier at this hard time. He works from home and is getting paid.

I am grateful for all of this.

Krista got laid off but she is collecting unemployment and her landlord is working with her on the rent.

I am grateful for that.

I started working for the City of Concord in September. Carol brought in zero income in October. We survived it because of my two jobs. Right now we are both working from home and getting paid. The Capitol Center is paying me for actual work and the city is paying me to do nothing. We have a healthy chunk of change in savings and a lot of room on a couple of credit cards.

I am grateful for all that.

I am working very hard to change my life. Physically and especially, psychologically. I am putting the time to good use, instead of swilling whiskey.

I am grateful that my brain still works after a lifelong commitment to destroying it.

My family is healthy. We are financially sound. I am so grateful for that.

I look at us; I look at the world.

This situation is frightening. Life or death. Financially threatening. The other side of it will not be pretty. We will not just get back to normal. The world is going to be weird. Life is going to be weird.

We will have to adjust.

I am hurting to see so many deaths, so much misery, so much injustice and inequities in the way people are being treated.

I am so grateful that my family is ok.

A Beautiful Sentence

"There are instruments and human players but sometimes a fiddle or a drum makes instruments of those who play them, and all are put in servitude to the song".

"The Underground Railroad",   Colson Whitehead

Empathy Is The Enemy

Empathy is killing me.

We watch a lot of TV,  keeping an eye on the coronavirus. The United States is up around 15,000 deaths. Can you fucking imagine that, comprehend it or absorb it? 15,000 people have died in a very short time. The mind cannot grasp that.

Everybody's life has been radically altered. You leave the house at your own peril. Some have the option not to, some do not.

Think about that. How frightening must it be to have to leave the house because you need the money and you work an "essential" job. Or you don't have the option to work at home or the tools to work at home. Or the type of job that allows you to work at home.

You have no choice. But you know you are putting your life in danger. That says so much about the desperate little lives that we live.

When you are working under normal circumstances you have no dignity. Pizza once a month is the highlight of your social existence. And when the world implodes you have to risk your life for a paycheck.

What if your employer lays you off? The unemployment system is overwhelmed and not functioning efficiently. But you can't wait. You need money NOW. What do you do?

Millions of people are going to suffer financially because our society is so cold and unforgiving.

AND IT IS NOT THESE PEOPLES' FAULT. What kind of country do we live in?

Your brain is assaulted by all kinds of bizarre new realities.

Makeshift morgues. Are you fucking kidding me? Storing bodies in tents. Storing bodies in refrigerated trucks. Morgues are overwhelmed, running out of supplies, gurneys etc. New York is considering temporary grave sites to stash bodies until they are in a position to give them proper burials.

This is a Stephen King novel. Not reality.

Only it is reality. How can this be? It happened in a heartbeat.

Healthcare workers are dying. People that walk into the fire every day to take care of others being cut down for their selflessness.

This is so fucked up.

All of that destroys my brain. But it is even worse.

Videos of healthcare workers, exhausted, crying in their car or at home at the end of a shift describing the nightmare they have just witnessed. Worse than yesterday, not as bad as tomorrow will be.

How do these people get through this? How do they function efficiently, considering the enormity of what they are responsible for? Exhausted, afraid, overwhelmed, insufficiently protected. Tell me they will not experience long lasting psychological effects from what they are dealing with every day.

We are approaching the point (if we are not already there) of deciding who lives and who dies. This 83 year old guy ain't gonna make it, so let him die. Let's treat the 61 year old.

You want to be the one in that position?

People standing outside nursing home windows celebrating birthdays of loved ones through the glass. Miming touching hands.

How cold and unsatisfying that must be. How heartbreaking for all involved. Imagine the elderly person on the inside, afraid of contracting the virus in an environment that practically ensures a death sentence, wanting the hugs of loved ones, needing the hugs of loved ones more than ever before.

Getting cold glass instead.

People with relatives who are dying, relatives they have to say goodbye to through a video monitor. A fucking video monitor. That is horrible, impersonal, fucking emotional torture. It should not be part of the human experience. Ever under any circumstance. Yet it is.

People dying with no human contact other than the people who are caring for them. Strangers. Well intentioned and caring but not family. Horrifying.

Many nights I get tears in my eyes as I watch these scenes or hear about them. Sometimes if I am eating supper (as I say it it seems so wrong to be eating in the comfort of my home as people die) my stomach clenches up. I have to stop eating for a moment.

Empathy is killing me. But that is who I am. Other peoples' suffering bothers me. Always has.

I am seeing suffering every day on a global scale and it is more than my mind and my heart can handle.

Where is this leading? What will life be like on the other side. It will not be normal. It may never again be normal as we defined it before the pandemic.

Life works this way. Every once in a while it rocks you and you gotta deal with it. Deal with it or withdraw, give up, check out.

This time it is on a massive scale and everybody has to deal with it at once.

Protect yourself as best you can.

Maka

Maka is stepping up.

She recognized a void and stepped up to fill it.

When Max died that left Lakota as our lone pet. We kicked around the idea of a new cat but were not too serious about it. Until we were leaving the house for mirth and merriment one night.

As we walked out the sliding glass doors and looked back, Lakota was sitting in the middle of the living room staring at us. Immediately broke our hearts. We felt she was lonely. Made the immediate decision to get another cat.

That cat turned out to be Maka.

Now Maka is alone.

For a while after Lakota died we didn't discuss getting another cat at all, but the idea kind of hung in the air. Then recently Carol brought it up. She had been secretly browsing the SPCA website and she showed me a cat she found. The cat was perfect. Described as loving, happy to be around other cats, easy-natured. The cat was adorable.

But as we discussed it it became obvious the conversation was strained. We confronted it head on - do we really want another cat right now? We both admitted we did not.

Maka shows no signs of being lonely. Of course circumstances are bizarre right now and we are both home all day every day. So she gets all the attention and love she deserves. And she gives so much back.

But even before this fucking virus shattered our lives she was not alone a lot. Carol leaves for work at 9:30. I leave at 11:00 (on Mon Tues Wed). Carol gets home at 2:30. Not much of a gap there.

Thurs and Fri I leave at 5:30 but, really, there is still only 5 hours that Maka is alone. Not a bad deal.

Lakota was my sweetheart. She destroyed my bladder. She spent time in the box in the kitchen, she slept under the bed in the spare room, but when she got ready to settle in at night she would curl up on my left thigh and stay there.

I would have to take a piss at 8 o'clock and I would decide to wait until 8:30. Then 8:45. And, if possible, 9 o'clock. I wouldn't get up until it was emergency time. When I was done Lakota would come right back and settle on my thigh for the next sleep/love session.

And we had Maka, who would also curl up in my lap. So I was virtually guaranteed to have at least one cat in my lap at all times.

Maka is more independent. She warms my lap but she gets up five or six times a night. To eat. To drink. And likes to sleep on the footstool and at the end of the couch and sometimes in Carol's lap.

So there are stretches every night with no cat in my lap.

I don't like this. I need it. I have to have someone to give my love to. But it is what it is.

But Maka has a big personality. A gentle, loving personality. She is also insane and funny.

She fills the house with love. We don't feel like we are missing anything.

Me being me, I worry about down the road. We are not sure how old Maka is, but we have had her for 14 years.

When she goes I will have to get at least one other cat. I have to have a living thing to give my love to in a direct and physical way. Cannot survive without it.

Of course there is a possibility we will decide to get another cat while Maka is around.

There are options. Decisions to be made.

Right now Maka is Queen Cat. My little one. the little doll, cutie pie. Those are my nicknames for her.

Lakota was sweetheart and pretty girl.

Maka is doing the job. Bringing the love. Keeping us happy.

She really has stepped up.

2020

We did not celebrate my 66th birthday.

Lakota died on January 31.

Carol went into surgery on February 5th. 8 a.m.  Came out at midnight. Fucking midnight.

We got to the hospital that morning at 5 a.m. So fucking early they wouldn't let us check in. Did that at 5:30. I sat in two different waiting rooms during the day. Started with a trickle of people, then a flood, then by around 6 or 7 at night I was alone. Alone. Even the administrative people went home.

As it got later and later, at one point, because of stress and fatigue, I began to think that Carol might die. I experienced that thought intellectually and emotionally. Especially emotionally. I felt so empty, so alone, so lost, thinking about life without Carol. I was devastated. And how would I tell my sons?

She went back into surgery on February 6. Five more hours.

Finally got her home on February 10. Her speech has improved but her face is still swollen and lopsided. Still. This is what this surgery was supposed to do. Get her back to normal. Hasn't happened. Breaks my heart every single day.

We did not celebrate our 42nd wedding anniversary. We did not celebrate Valentine's Day.

Now we have the coronavirus. We may not see our sons and their women face to face for 6 months or longer.  Keith's 40th birthday is coming up on May 3. We won't be able to celebrate that. We have not even met Keith's woman, Krista. Plans were to do that after Carol bounced back from surgery. Not gonna happen for a while now. I feel like I have a member of my family that I have not even met.

Can you guess how I feel about 2020?

In the midst of all this, during this surreal break from reality, I am trying to find a new approach to life. One that will allow me to find happiness.

I have been exploring philosophies. Approaches to life. I found one yesterday that I am excited about.

I cannot handle the pie in the sky cliched bullshit that usually passes for self help. This is not like that. It offers advice about how to approach life in a way that will change the way you think. It does not sound phony to me; it seems practical.

My mind is my worst enemy. I don't think healthy thoughts. My self-image is destructive, not constructive. I am going to explore this thoroughly in the next few days to see if it fits. If it does, then thank fucking christ. If not, I will move on.

So what have I learned from 2020?

Man, you cannot take anything for granted. It can all be taken away from you in a heartbeat and the evil can come in a million different disguises.

When this is over my family is going to celebrate. One big celebration to celebrate all the things that did not get celebrated in 2020. To celebrate the magic that is this family.

A massive barbecue, maybe go out together to a great restaurant. I don't care what form it takes but it has to be special. I don't have to orchestrate the fun and the love because that is what my family is. When we finally get together it will happen naturally.

Maybe when we get together they will all think "Hey, Dad seems different. He seems happy. He seems confident and comfortable in his own skin."

That would be nice. But if I am not there yet I hope I am still continuing to explore. Still hungering for change. Still trying.

2020 has sucked royally. Worst year of our lives. I was born in 1954. That's a lot of fucking years. And we have had some tough ones too. Real downers.

1998 when our business went down the tubes and we almost lost everything. 2014 when Jonathan died. When Sarge died. 2015 when Kevin died.

There have been many deaths in my family and Carol's family.

We have had a lot of great years too. 1978, 1980, 1983 come to mind immediately. Many others.

We will celebrate again.

And it will mean more than it ever has before.

Not Dark Yet

Great song by Bob Dylan.

The line goes "it's not dark yet, but it's getting there"

Popped into my head in Market Basket this week. The change in atmosphere was dramatic from last week to this week. I could feel it.

Suddenly there were signs in the aisles cautioning people to stay six feet apart. It was obvious that people were maintaining some distance. Some people were wearing masks. Once I came around a corner and came face to face with someone and we both froze. It was so fucking obvious.

We froze.

There was a running commentary over the loudspeakers. "Please stay six feet apart, please maintain some distance, we are getting shipments in as fast as we can, we are out of toilet paper but there will be a shipment later in the week, some shelves are empty or low - please understand that we are working as quickly as we can."

Tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.

Felt like a war zone. Felt like an emergency.

When the lyric came into my head I immediately decided it was inappropriate - it is dark. The more I thought about it the more I realized the lyric is dead on. It is bad, very bad, but it is going to get even worse. Much worse.

We are getting there. Getting to a world we cannot understand. A world consumed with fear.

Every time I leave the house I am afraid. Initially I felt a false sense of security because I live in the boonies. Now I know at least one person in Henniker has been infected. In fucking Henniker.

You cannot stay away from people if you have to get food. Period. You have to go to the store.

This past week I was out in public three times. Playing Russian Roulette with my life.

I had to pop into work briefly on Monday and Wednesday so I went by Market Basket looking for toilet paper. Struck out Monday, scored Wednesday. I'll tell you about it later.

Last night I popped into the liquor store and then picked up a pizza. I have good friends in the Hillsboro liquor store. I have worked with them. I don't go there often but when I do I get hugs. We shoot the shit. They were wearing gloves but not masks. There was tape on the floor at the registers indicating where you should stand.

My friend hugged me when I walked in; she always does. She caught me off guard - I was uncomfortable. I was talking to another friend who was working the register. I put my booze on the counter and stepped back to talk to her. Awkward, but they wait on many people during the day. They are being exposed all the time. She told me they are paying her $2.00 more per hour to keep working.

Sound like a fair trade-off? Not to me. I told her, as I have said to Carol a few times already, that I love my whiskey but I have no problem with the liquor stores shutting down.

They should shut down.

As I was leaving my other friend wanted to hug me again. I said no.

Over 7,000 people have died in the United States. And that is the tip of the iceberg. When we are done the number of deaths will be staggering.

I can't visit my sons and their women. It could very well be six months or more - probably more - before I get to be with them again. That has never happened to us in our lifetimes.

Absolutely breaks my heart to think that.

I don't want to die from Covid-19. What a stupid way to die. A heart attack would make sense, maybe a stroke. Cancer is looming - melanoma and prostate. The mine field has been laid.

But Covid-19? Fuck that. What a ridiculous way to go.

7,000 and counting.

It's not dark yet, but it's getting there.

It's right around the corner.

Score!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I scored 18 rolls of toilet paper on Wednesday.

I had an orgasm.

I picked up a bottle of champagne and me and Carol partied until 4 a.m.

I wandered into Market Basket on Monday and struck out. Wandered back in on Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon and they were stocking the toilet paper shelf. How fucking random.

One six pack per customer.

I decided to turn on the charm. I can be quite charming when I want to be. Chicks dig me; it's a natural fact. I held the package in my hand and said to the woman who was stocking the shelf "One package per customer?" She said yes. I asked in my most innocent voice "What happens if I walk up to the register with two?"

She said "They won't ring it up".

Apparently I am not as charming as I used to be.

Flushed with success I decided to stop into Harvester Market in Henniker on my way home.

They had 12 packs on the shelf. Holy shit. I grabbed one and tap danced my way to the register.

I am a mighty hunter. I am capable of taking care of my family. Putting food on the table and a roof over their heads.

And buying toilet paper.

Fucking toilet paper.

I Could Be Wrong, But I'm Not. No I'm Not.

I am reading a book written by Judd Apatow called "Sick in the Head - Conversations About Life and Comedy".

Apatow has been interviewing comedians for his entire life. He started as a teenager, interviewing people like Jerry Seinfeld, Garry Shandling, Jay Leno. Imagine the balls it takes for a teenager to pull that off?

Anyway I am picking up interesting philosophies and quotes.

Jeff Garlin.

Apatow asks him if it's important to him that his kids are smart. Garlin says: "No. I mean yes, I hope they're smart and self reliant so they can enjoy life - but they'll probably be more miserable if they're smart. If they're stupid, they're going to have a great time. Because really, everything is created for stupid people. Books, movies, TV shows for the most part - they're for stupid people. So, they would be much happier if they were stupid. But I think both my boys are going to be miserable like their father."

Apatow: "So they'll be smart and miserable."

Garlin: "Well, they go hand in hand."

So happens that I believe in this philosophy. I have always believed I am miserable because I am smart. That's why I hate phony optimism and suck it up philosophies. If you run around with a perpetual smile on your face I am a more honest person than you will ever be.



Jimmy Fallon on being a parent:

"You invented this human, so you're like, I made the best human I can make. This is my Sistine Chapel, and I should be able to appreciate this."

Another philosophy I agree with.