Wrapped up The Larry Sanders show a few days ago. It was fantastic. Needed a replacement.
When I say need I mean need. I am desperate to laugh. It is fucking medicinal right now at a level of intensity heretofore not experienced.
I had a meltdown a week or two ago with this Covid madness. I have realized since then that it is a general malaise; it is there always, assaulting my brain with the incomprehensible, and fucking despair. It was that two year old girl that pushed me over the top that day. But generally I am just sad. Even given the bizarre truth of how good our life is going right now
So I need distraction. I need to laugh to bring my soul back above the surface. Even if only for short periods of time.
I always assume my approach to life is the best. I want to binge watch shows I haven't seen before. Stimulate my brain with newness. I was considering Parks and Recreation, which I have never seen, or The Office, which I only sporadically watched.
Ran it by Carol - she said "How about Cheers?" I am trying to be more flexible so I agreed.
Holy shit it was like coming home. Immediately. I was overwhelmed with the sheer comfort of watching these episodes. And there are a LOT pf them. Like 22 per season with something like 11 seasons.
Such a good show. The kind of show that strikes a perfect balance between insanity, sensitivity, lovable characters, intelligence, and just full on funniness. We have laughed so much. The first day we watched 10 episodes. That's almost 5 hours of TV. Fucking fantastic.
I am so comfortable with these characters and they make me feel good. So happy to have them back in my life. It feels like I know them.
It also touches a nerve with me. One thing I need in my life is a comfortable bar to hang in. I sorely miss that right now. Have for a long time.
Probably the three best experiences in that arena in my life were Mangini's, The Legion, and Sarge's.
Mangini's was a dive bar - I'm talking fall down alcoholics - that we hung in as college students. The average age of everyone else in the bar was 123. But we got along with them. Drank with them. Played bumper pool with them. Had fun.
The Legion was fun for me because I was a minor celebrity. I was a pretty popular bartender there and I was comfortable there. And the regulars were essentially fucked in the head. Which made for some crazy times. Very crazy times.
Sarge's was the best. I was treated like royalty there because I am married to the owner's sister. Pretty good deal. We knew a lot of people there. Good people. The bar was a 2 hour drive for us, so we didn't get there as often as we wanted to. Then again, considering the distance, we got there more often than you would think. It was a blast.
Anyway, I want a Cheers back in my life again. It is a comforting thing to have.
And the song, man. The song is perfect. Especially given these dark and despondent times we are living in. It is wistful and comforting. As we pull up each episode there is an option to skip the intro. Which means skipping the song.
We never do that. Never. We listen to it every single time.
I will leave you with the lyrics. They are perfect.
Making your way in the world today takes everything you got.
Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.
Wouldn't you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name,
and they're always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
our troubles are all the same,
You wanna be where everybody knows your name.
You wanna go where people know,
people are all the same,
you wanna go where everybody knows
your name.
Thursday, May 28, 2020
Monday, May 25, 2020
I Don't Hate Tom Brady
But I could.
I am angry with him. I held him to a higher standard. An impossible standard, really.
This shit has been going on for as long as I can remember. Montana, Namath, Rice, Favre etc.
All made their bones with one team and then bounced around a bit; finished their careers on other teams.
I fucking hate it. Because it is a constant reminder that football is a business.
I don't want football to be a business. It is my passion. I want it to be pure emotion, elevated above reality, existing in a holy place.
It is also a constant reminder that athletes are not good judges of when it's time to quit. Ego. Massive egos that take it too far and inject poison into legendary careers.
I hate that too. I want these guys on a pedestal. Part of the reason I worship them is because they are superhuman. I need success on that level to counterbalance the smallness of my own life.
Brady is a different animal. What he and THE PATS accomplished has never been done before in the NFL. Twenty years of greatness.
Brady is the constant. Everyone else has come and gone. Brady stuck around and made magic with whatever ingredients he was given to work with.
Brady leaving THE PATS is like Jesus leaving heaven to live eternally in hell.
Fucking inconceivable.
He is a man. He has his own life to live. I get that. Free to make his own choices. Except for his association with THE PATS. Those twenty years nullify free choice.
He was obligated to retire as a PATRIOT. Period. His association with that organization is sacred.
Maybe I'll give up on sports entirely. Take up origami. Sit in the dark crafting tiny figures, sipping whiskey and cursing Tom Brady.
I am angry with him. I held him to a higher standard. An impossible standard, really.
This shit has been going on for as long as I can remember. Montana, Namath, Rice, Favre etc.
All made their bones with one team and then bounced around a bit; finished their careers on other teams.
I fucking hate it. Because it is a constant reminder that football is a business.
I don't want football to be a business. It is my passion. I want it to be pure emotion, elevated above reality, existing in a holy place.
It is also a constant reminder that athletes are not good judges of when it's time to quit. Ego. Massive egos that take it too far and inject poison into legendary careers.
I hate that too. I want these guys on a pedestal. Part of the reason I worship them is because they are superhuman. I need success on that level to counterbalance the smallness of my own life.
Brady is a different animal. What he and THE PATS accomplished has never been done before in the NFL. Twenty years of greatness.
Brady is the constant. Everyone else has come and gone. Brady stuck around and made magic with whatever ingredients he was given to work with.
Brady leaving THE PATS is like Jesus leaving heaven to live eternally in hell.
Fucking inconceivable.
He is a man. He has his own life to live. I get that. Free to make his own choices. Except for his association with THE PATS. Those twenty years nullify free choice.
He was obligated to retire as a PATRIOT. Period. His association with that organization is sacred.
Maybe I'll give up on sports entirely. Take up origami. Sit in the dark crafting tiny figures, sipping whiskey and cursing Tom Brady.
Sunday, May 24, 2020
Perspecitve
NASCAR racing came back last week.
I couldn't be happier.
I have largely ignored racing over the last few years. Never watch an entire race anymore. If I do anything I keep an eye on it. Many times I don't watch the race at all. Guess I got tired of it.
Last Sunday there was a race - an actual live race - at Darlington. Shit, man - I watched that thing with new eyes. Dug it from start to finish. Enthusiastically. With great interest. And Kevin Harvick won! My man.
Live sports (Korean baseball doesn't count). Felt so fucking good.
At first I was amazed at how enthusiastic I was. 10 seconds in I realized this is yet another result of the upside down world we are living in. We are all hungry for distraction.
Three days later there was another race at Darlington. A night race. NASCAR is cramming their schedule in like a sausage maker crams mystery meat into sausage skin. I watched that motherfucker with great interest as well.
And today there is another race. At Charlotte. The Coca Cola 600. Traditional Memorial Day race.
I am so glad they are running it today because this does not feel like Memorial Day weekend to me.
First of all I am unemployed. Second we are not doing a fucking thing. Know what Carol and I are doing? Obliterating clutter from the house. I am working the upstairs room, she is working the downstairs room. Attacked that shit on Friday and yesterday. Multiple cathartic trips to the dump.
But that ain't a holiday weekend. Should be partying with friends and family. Not being responsible. I hate being responsible. But it does feel good to be finally doing something about our hoarding problem. People were starting to talk.
Anyway I am psyched for tonight's race. Love night racing. And man, this is the third race in eight days.
My point? I hope this feeling does not go away. As more good stuff comes back into our lives I hope I am enthusiastic about all of it. I hope I see everything differently on a permanent basis.
Because that will make life better.
I couldn't be happier.
I have largely ignored racing over the last few years. Never watch an entire race anymore. If I do anything I keep an eye on it. Many times I don't watch the race at all. Guess I got tired of it.
Last Sunday there was a race - an actual live race - at Darlington. Shit, man - I watched that thing with new eyes. Dug it from start to finish. Enthusiastically. With great interest. And Kevin Harvick won! My man.
Live sports (Korean baseball doesn't count). Felt so fucking good.
At first I was amazed at how enthusiastic I was. 10 seconds in I realized this is yet another result of the upside down world we are living in. We are all hungry for distraction.
Three days later there was another race at Darlington. A night race. NASCAR is cramming their schedule in like a sausage maker crams mystery meat into sausage skin. I watched that motherfucker with great interest as well.
And today there is another race. At Charlotte. The Coca Cola 600. Traditional Memorial Day race.
I am so glad they are running it today because this does not feel like Memorial Day weekend to me.
First of all I am unemployed. Second we are not doing a fucking thing. Know what Carol and I are doing? Obliterating clutter from the house. I am working the upstairs room, she is working the downstairs room. Attacked that shit on Friday and yesterday. Multiple cathartic trips to the dump.
But that ain't a holiday weekend. Should be partying with friends and family. Not being responsible. I hate being responsible. But it does feel good to be finally doing something about our hoarding problem. People were starting to talk.
Anyway I am psyched for tonight's race. Love night racing. And man, this is the third race in eight days.
My point? I hope this feeling does not go away. As more good stuff comes back into our lives I hope I am enthusiastic about all of it. I hope I see everything differently on a permanent basis.
Because that will make life better.
Still, The Yin and Yang Drives Me Crazy
Racing is back but............
Harvick wins the first race back and climbs out of his car to almost total silence. Not one fan in the stands. He's wearing a mask, pit crew wearing masks, other drivers wearing masks, crew chief........you get the picture.
The guy interviewing him is standing six feet away, another guy is holding a long pole with a microphone on it to pick up Harvick's voice.
During the race I could forget about the world, for the most part. After the race it all came back with a vengeance.
For entertainment over the last bunch of weeks we watched the Larry Sanders Show. All six seasons from start to finish. Fucking hilarious. Just wrapped it up last night. Those were the days when a season was 15, 16, 17 episodes; we put a serious investment into that puppy.
I chose to watch it because I quickly realized that I need to laugh. Need to laugh. I brought Carol along for the ride.
We also watched the second season of After Life, starring Ricky Gervais. A deliciously dark series with my kind of twisted humor.
Again, I watch these shows and I fucking laugh. Until we are done for the night. Then MSNBC or some other reality attacks us with death statistics.
Yin and yang. In a heartbeat.
I am desperate to find another comedy to watch. I'm thinking Parks and Recreation or The Office. I love these little half hour episodes that you can squeeze in anytime anyplace. It is a great way to rip your mind away from reality. And to LAUGH.
Last night we started to watch I Know This Much Is True. A miniseries on HBO. Heavy duty drama, the kind of thing I love to get drawn into.
Very intense. We watched the first two episodes last night and had our emotions twisted all over the place. But we were able to forget about life for a while.
Got out of episode 2 and Bam!!!!!!!!!!!, here comes reality again.
Too much, man - too much. You cannot fucking get away from it.
But you gotta keep trying.
Harvick wins the first race back and climbs out of his car to almost total silence. Not one fan in the stands. He's wearing a mask, pit crew wearing masks, other drivers wearing masks, crew chief........you get the picture.
The guy interviewing him is standing six feet away, another guy is holding a long pole with a microphone on it to pick up Harvick's voice.
During the race I could forget about the world, for the most part. After the race it all came back with a vengeance.
For entertainment over the last bunch of weeks we watched the Larry Sanders Show. All six seasons from start to finish. Fucking hilarious. Just wrapped it up last night. Those were the days when a season was 15, 16, 17 episodes; we put a serious investment into that puppy.
I chose to watch it because I quickly realized that I need to laugh. Need to laugh. I brought Carol along for the ride.
We also watched the second season of After Life, starring Ricky Gervais. A deliciously dark series with my kind of twisted humor.
Again, I watch these shows and I fucking laugh. Until we are done for the night. Then MSNBC or some other reality attacks us with death statistics.
Yin and yang. In a heartbeat.
I am desperate to find another comedy to watch. I'm thinking Parks and Recreation or The Office. I love these little half hour episodes that you can squeeze in anytime anyplace. It is a great way to rip your mind away from reality. And to LAUGH.
Last night we started to watch I Know This Much Is True. A miniseries on HBO. Heavy duty drama, the kind of thing I love to get drawn into.
Very intense. We watched the first two episodes last night and had our emotions twisted all over the place. But we were able to forget about life for a while.
Got out of episode 2 and Bam!!!!!!!!!!!, here comes reality again.
Too much, man - too much. You cannot fucking get away from it.
But you gotta keep trying.
Once Again
Zapped out of the house yesterday for a dump run and to buy milk and whiskey.
There is a park and ride right down the street from us. Shiny objects caught my eye as I drove by. I realized Mylar balloons were wrestling my attention.
There were six or eight cars in the lot - a bunch of people - somebody was having a birthday party.
This is the shit that knocks me out and happens almost every time I leave the house. On one hand I dig these people for making it happen; for deciding they were going to find a way to celebrate and have fun. On the other hand it bums me out that this is the way a birthday has to be celebrated.
Emotional roller coaster. This is how I feel since Covid-19 reared its ugly head. I get up as quickly as I get down.
Once again this fucking disease said "Hey look what I can do".
There is a park and ride right down the street from us. Shiny objects caught my eye as I drove by. I realized Mylar balloons were wrestling my attention.
There were six or eight cars in the lot - a bunch of people - somebody was having a birthday party.
This is the shit that knocks me out and happens almost every time I leave the house. On one hand I dig these people for making it happen; for deciding they were going to find a way to celebrate and have fun. On the other hand it bums me out that this is the way a birthday has to be celebrated.
Emotional roller coaster. This is how I feel since Covid-19 reared its ugly head. I get up as quickly as I get down.
Once again this fucking disease said "Hey look what I can do".
Thursday, May 21, 2020
I Can Breathe (And..............)
I filed for unemployment compensation on 4/20.
I have been in weekly contact with them right from the start because it has not gone smoothly. There were weeks when I talked to them 2 or 3 times. Probably emailed them 444 times.
I finally got paid this week. One month later. Got one week's benefit yesterday, another today. They still owe me two more but it will take time because those weeks got royally fucked up. But I think the kinks have been worked out. It should go smoothly from here.
Here's the thing. I am taking in more money through unemployment than I was making working two part time jobs. A lot more.
It is ridiculous but I am grateful.
I contacted Hyundai the week of 4/20 to apply for deferred payments.
Again, multiple phone calls, many emails. I finally got a notice this week of a 1 month deferred payment. They review the situation monthly. So if I am still unemployed in June I'm sure my payment will be deferred. They will do it three times if necessary.
Here's the thing. I bought the car on 4/16. Originally, my first payment was due on May 31. Now my first payment is due June 30. If things continue to suck, it's possible I won't make a payment until September. I bought the car with zero money down, I am paying zero interest on the loan.
This is the first week since this bullshit started that I feel I can breathe. It has been a struggle as far as getting everything lined up but things are clicking and we are in a good place.
Which brings me to awareness.
Something is going on here. We have been given an opportunity.
The whole fucking world is suffering and we are thriving. We have to make the most of it. We are morally obligated to make the most of it.
I knew two months ago when all this bullshit started that I was either gonna drink whiskey or fix myself. Those were my choices. I was fully aware of what was going on.
I made the right decision. Got me an excellent groove going. Excellent groove. I haven't felt this good since I won that $33 million in Powerball. Wait, what? I didn't win Powerball? Shit, then - I have never felt this good.
The goal is to develop independence. Ultimately that is what this is all about.
Vulnerability is burning a path through my brain. If we were not in the financial shape we are in this pandemic could have destroyed us. If Carol wasn't working, if we didn't have money in the bank it would have been tough. I would not be driving a new car, we would be in panic mode financially.
I am still dependent on a job. I will be going back eventually. I don't want to be dependent. I need to come up with another way to make money. An alternative. So if something happens again we will not be vulnerable.
I have no idea what that thing is. But it is enough for me right now that I am thinking about it. That I am aware of the need. And that I have time to think about it and act upon it.
This ties into my evolving perspective and growing confidence. I am actually thinking. Who knew?
I am driving a brand new car, we have money in the bank, Carol is still working. Trust me I know exactly how lucky we are.
We're good. I need to make us better.
Life took a pretty big swipe at us and missed.
I will make us stronger just in case its aim improves.
I have been in weekly contact with them right from the start because it has not gone smoothly. There were weeks when I talked to them 2 or 3 times. Probably emailed them 444 times.
I finally got paid this week. One month later. Got one week's benefit yesterday, another today. They still owe me two more but it will take time because those weeks got royally fucked up. But I think the kinks have been worked out. It should go smoothly from here.
Here's the thing. I am taking in more money through unemployment than I was making working two part time jobs. A lot more.
It is ridiculous but I am grateful.
I contacted Hyundai the week of 4/20 to apply for deferred payments.
Again, multiple phone calls, many emails. I finally got a notice this week of a 1 month deferred payment. They review the situation monthly. So if I am still unemployed in June I'm sure my payment will be deferred. They will do it three times if necessary.
Here's the thing. I bought the car on 4/16. Originally, my first payment was due on May 31. Now my first payment is due June 30. If things continue to suck, it's possible I won't make a payment until September. I bought the car with zero money down, I am paying zero interest on the loan.
This is the first week since this bullshit started that I feel I can breathe. It has been a struggle as far as getting everything lined up but things are clicking and we are in a good place.
Which brings me to awareness.
Something is going on here. We have been given an opportunity.
The whole fucking world is suffering and we are thriving. We have to make the most of it. We are morally obligated to make the most of it.
I knew two months ago when all this bullshit started that I was either gonna drink whiskey or fix myself. Those were my choices. I was fully aware of what was going on.
I made the right decision. Got me an excellent groove going. Excellent groove. I haven't felt this good since I won that $33 million in Powerball. Wait, what? I didn't win Powerball? Shit, then - I have never felt this good.
The goal is to develop independence. Ultimately that is what this is all about.
Vulnerability is burning a path through my brain. If we were not in the financial shape we are in this pandemic could have destroyed us. If Carol wasn't working, if we didn't have money in the bank it would have been tough. I would not be driving a new car, we would be in panic mode financially.
I am still dependent on a job. I will be going back eventually. I don't want to be dependent. I need to come up with another way to make money. An alternative. So if something happens again we will not be vulnerable.
I have no idea what that thing is. But it is enough for me right now that I am thinking about it. That I am aware of the need. And that I have time to think about it and act upon it.
This ties into my evolving perspective and growing confidence. I am actually thinking. Who knew?
I am driving a brand new car, we have money in the bank, Carol is still working. Trust me I know exactly how lucky we are.
We're good. I need to make us better.
Life took a pretty big swipe at us and missed.
I will make us stronger just in case its aim improves.
Wednesday, May 20, 2020
I AM A Hoarder. Help Me, Jesus
Went food shopping last Friday.
Bought more toilet paper. Can't help myself. Holy Shit.
Every time I see The Gold Standard - Charmin Ultra-Strong - it triggers a Pavlovian response in me.
I gotta have it.
Thing is, now we have 22 Mega-Rolls of the stuff. That's enough fucking toilet paper to take care of a family of 8 through the year 2525. And that doesn't count the cheap shit we already have, which we have in abundance.
Now granted, my asshole was offended by the cheap shit I was forced to buy in the beginning. And it is pleased by the soft caresses of quality toilet paper.
And there is a voice in the back of my head that tells me if the pandemic goes south again (which I believe it will) the same idiots will pull the same shit with the hoarding of toilet paper again.
They are obviously not as enlightened as I am.
But Christ, man - I gotta stop.
I am like a TP junky, lurking in dark alleyways next to Market Baskets. Waiting for some poor, unsuspecting victim to wander by so I can crack them over the head with a miniature Fenway baseball bat, rip the toilet paper out of their hands and laugh maniacally in their face as I stagger drunkenly away.
This is not who I dreamed of being when I was growing up.
Bought more toilet paper. Can't help myself. Holy Shit.
Every time I see The Gold Standard - Charmin Ultra-Strong - it triggers a Pavlovian response in me.
I gotta have it.
Thing is, now we have 22 Mega-Rolls of the stuff. That's enough fucking toilet paper to take care of a family of 8 through the year 2525. And that doesn't count the cheap shit we already have, which we have in abundance.
Now granted, my asshole was offended by the cheap shit I was forced to buy in the beginning. And it is pleased by the soft caresses of quality toilet paper.
And there is a voice in the back of my head that tells me if the pandemic goes south again (which I believe it will) the same idiots will pull the same shit with the hoarding of toilet paper again.
They are obviously not as enlightened as I am.
But Christ, man - I gotta stop.
I am like a TP junky, lurking in dark alleyways next to Market Baskets. Waiting for some poor, unsuspecting victim to wander by so I can crack them over the head with a miniature Fenway baseball bat, rip the toilet paper out of their hands and laugh maniacally in their face as I stagger drunkenly away.
This is not who I dreamed of being when I was growing up.
Sunday, May 17, 2020
Almost Forgot
The final chapter of The Day That Covid Broke Me, is The Beatles.
I was driving home from picking up the pizza.
First of all my car inspires emotion in me because I cannot believe I am driving a brand new car. Part of me feels I don't deserve it. I am not used to having nice things.
Every time I get into it I look around and say "Holy shit". When I drive it I feel proud. I feel good. Sometimes I just smile. But the disbelief persists.
I am driving home with the pizza, dealing with my Covid emotions and appreciating my car. An old Beatles song pops up - I don't even remember which song it was. Do you believe that? I can usually speak in great detail about the music in my life but I was really fucked up that night.
The Beatles bring up strong emotions in me. Especially when I got beyond a certain point in my life.
For a long time they inspired regret.
The Beatles represented hope when they came along. Even though I was only 10 years old. I recognized that this was something different. Very fucking different. As I got older and could intellectualize it I knew they stood for rebellion and individuality and creativity and avoiding the norm and actually living a life.
Then my life became predictable and their songs made me regretful. Regretful that I ended up doing what everybody else was doing instead of blazing my own path.
Lately I have been feeling grateful for The Beatles and appreciative of their role in my life that was unique to my generation and no other.
Friday night when their song came on I got tears in my eyes. Tears brought on by a fierce desire for life to return to normal. It felt so bizarre to listen to these guys sing in a world that is so dark. Darker than at any time in my life.
Suddenly that music represented normalcy to me. Comfort.
99% of the time when I hear a Beatles song in my car I sing along. I am a sick prick. I know every goddamn lyric. And I delude myself into believing I have a good singing voice. If I don't sing along it means I am distracted by something.
I did not sing Friday night. I couldn't. I got really emotional.
In that situation The Beatles represented what normal life should be. Not this dark bullshit we got going on now.
They made me think about the simple joy of singing alone in my car.
Happy. Unconcerned.
I was driving home from picking up the pizza.
First of all my car inspires emotion in me because I cannot believe I am driving a brand new car. Part of me feels I don't deserve it. I am not used to having nice things.
Every time I get into it I look around and say "Holy shit". When I drive it I feel proud. I feel good. Sometimes I just smile. But the disbelief persists.
I am driving home with the pizza, dealing with my Covid emotions and appreciating my car. An old Beatles song pops up - I don't even remember which song it was. Do you believe that? I can usually speak in great detail about the music in my life but I was really fucked up that night.
The Beatles bring up strong emotions in me. Especially when I got beyond a certain point in my life.
For a long time they inspired regret.
The Beatles represented hope when they came along. Even though I was only 10 years old. I recognized that this was something different. Very fucking different. As I got older and could intellectualize it I knew they stood for rebellion and individuality and creativity and avoiding the norm and actually living a life.
Then my life became predictable and their songs made me regretful. Regretful that I ended up doing what everybody else was doing instead of blazing my own path.
Lately I have been feeling grateful for The Beatles and appreciative of their role in my life that was unique to my generation and no other.
Friday night when their song came on I got tears in my eyes. Tears brought on by a fierce desire for life to return to normal. It felt so bizarre to listen to these guys sing in a world that is so dark. Darker than at any time in my life.
Suddenly that music represented normalcy to me. Comfort.
99% of the time when I hear a Beatles song in my car I sing along. I am a sick prick. I know every goddamn lyric. And I delude myself into believing I have a good singing voice. If I don't sing along it means I am distracted by something.
I did not sing Friday night. I couldn't. I got really emotional.
In that situation The Beatles represented what normal life should be. Not this dark bullshit we got going on now.
They made me think about the simple joy of singing alone in my car.
Happy. Unconcerned.
Saturday, May 16, 2020
Covid Broke Me
I went food shopping yesterday at Market Basket.
I came out and was loading up my trunk when a car pulled in right next to me. I glanced over and saw the driver putting on his mask. That's all I noticed and I went back to loading up the trunk.
As I closed the trunk the family got out of the car. Dad, Mom and a very little girl. No older than two. Probably a little younger.
Tiny.
Dad put the mask on his little daughter. Made a game of it and got it done. Then they walked towards the store. Dad holding his daughter's left hand, Mom holding the right.
Broke my heart. Broke my fucking heart. To see that young, innocent child wearing a mask. To see that family walking towards what in reality is a war zone. To get food. To get fucking food.
You can make a case for Dad staying home with the kid or Mom staying home with the kid or leaving the kid with a babysitter.
I don't give a fuck about any of that.
What crushed me is the reality this family is dealing with. They have a little girl. They should be filled with joy. The pure, unadulterated, almost unattainable happiness that every human deserves. The kind of joy that good parents get to experience.
But their joy is tempered with dread. How afraid must they be about what is happening in this world.
I keep talking about how something different about this Covid-19 reality slaps me in the face almost every time I leave the house.
This one killed me. Absolutely floored me.
I will never get that image out of my mind.
A tiny, innocent child wearing a mask to protect her from an unimaginable evil.
It is not supposed to fucking be this way.
I came out and was loading up my trunk when a car pulled in right next to me. I glanced over and saw the driver putting on his mask. That's all I noticed and I went back to loading up the trunk.
As I closed the trunk the family got out of the car. Dad, Mom and a very little girl. No older than two. Probably a little younger.
Tiny.
Dad put the mask on his little daughter. Made a game of it and got it done. Then they walked towards the store. Dad holding his daughter's left hand, Mom holding the right.
Broke my heart. Broke my fucking heart. To see that young, innocent child wearing a mask. To see that family walking towards what in reality is a war zone. To get food. To get fucking food.
You can make a case for Dad staying home with the kid or Mom staying home with the kid or leaving the kid with a babysitter.
I don't give a fuck about any of that.
What crushed me is the reality this family is dealing with. They have a little girl. They should be filled with joy. The pure, unadulterated, almost unattainable happiness that every human deserves. The kind of joy that good parents get to experience.
But their joy is tempered with dread. How afraid must they be about what is happening in this world.
I keep talking about how something different about this Covid-19 reality slaps me in the face almost every time I leave the house.
This one killed me. Absolutely floored me.
I will never get that image out of my mind.
A tiny, innocent child wearing a mask to protect her from an unimaginable evil.
It is not supposed to fucking be this way.
Covid Broke Me - Part Two
I went food shopping yesterday.
Walked into Market Basket with my mask on. Followed all the rules. Walked the aisles in the correct direction, following the arrows. Kept my distance from other shoppers. Stayed behind the tape on the floor at the check out. Waited for the customer ahead of me to complete their transaction completely and walk away. Waited for the cashier to sterilize the conveyor belt before I loaded up my stuff. Stood behind the plastic barrier until I paid.
Saw the little girl as I loaded my trunk.
Next stop - the hardware store next door. Needed wasp killer. Kept the mask on. Followed the arrows on the floor. Stood behind the tape in line for the register. Slid the can of wasp killer around the plastic barrier. Paid. Exited out the only door I was allowed to exit from.
Next stop - the liquor store next door. Kept my mask on. Got my booze. Stood behind the tape on the floor in line for the register. Slid the booze behind the plastic barrier. Paid. Walked out the proper exit.
When I got home I was hurting. I didn't realize how much until about an hour later.
When I got home I sat down and had a leisurely beer. Then I got up to order supper. We treat ourselves every Friday night. Called a local place, gave them my order, they told me it would be an hour. I told them to forget it. Called a local pizza place, placed the order, they told me it would be 45 minutes. I said OK and hung up.
That's when I broke.
I ranted a little bit, then just stretched out in my recliner for 35 minutes. Said nothing. Stared at the fucking ceiling.
I am tired of all this. Not the inconvenience. That is what it is. I am tired of what the world is right now. I hate it. It is depressing. It is so dark and so evil.
I am tired of making the transition from the peace of my home to the war zone of the outside world. I hate putting on a mask, I hate keeping my distance, I hate standing behind tape, I hate standing behind plastic barriers.
What the fuck is all this?
I drank too much whiskey last night. I didn't know what else to do. I was hurting.
I kept thinking about that little girl, kept thinking about her parents, on top of all the other bullshit that was hammering my brain into a state of comatose rejection.
I am OK today. As OK as I can be in a pandemic assaulted world.
But I imagine another break down will come along. Human beings should not have to deal with this shit. With the unpredictability and unnatural rhythms and rituals of a fucked up world.
It keeps you off balance. It assaults your senses, it flips your brain upside down.
I am tired of this.
So, so tired.
Walked into Market Basket with my mask on. Followed all the rules. Walked the aisles in the correct direction, following the arrows. Kept my distance from other shoppers. Stayed behind the tape on the floor at the check out. Waited for the customer ahead of me to complete their transaction completely and walk away. Waited for the cashier to sterilize the conveyor belt before I loaded up my stuff. Stood behind the plastic barrier until I paid.
Saw the little girl as I loaded my trunk.
Next stop - the hardware store next door. Needed wasp killer. Kept the mask on. Followed the arrows on the floor. Stood behind the tape in line for the register. Slid the can of wasp killer around the plastic barrier. Paid. Exited out the only door I was allowed to exit from.
Next stop - the liquor store next door. Kept my mask on. Got my booze. Stood behind the tape on the floor in line for the register. Slid the booze behind the plastic barrier. Paid. Walked out the proper exit.
When I got home I was hurting. I didn't realize how much until about an hour later.
When I got home I sat down and had a leisurely beer. Then I got up to order supper. We treat ourselves every Friday night. Called a local place, gave them my order, they told me it would be an hour. I told them to forget it. Called a local pizza place, placed the order, they told me it would be 45 minutes. I said OK and hung up.
That's when I broke.
I ranted a little bit, then just stretched out in my recliner for 35 minutes. Said nothing. Stared at the fucking ceiling.
I am tired of all this. Not the inconvenience. That is what it is. I am tired of what the world is right now. I hate it. It is depressing. It is so dark and so evil.
I am tired of making the transition from the peace of my home to the war zone of the outside world. I hate putting on a mask, I hate keeping my distance, I hate standing behind tape, I hate standing behind plastic barriers.
What the fuck is all this?
I drank too much whiskey last night. I didn't know what else to do. I was hurting.
I kept thinking about that little girl, kept thinking about her parents, on top of all the other bullshit that was hammering my brain into a state of comatose rejection.
I am OK today. As OK as I can be in a pandemic assaulted world.
But I imagine another break down will come along. Human beings should not have to deal with this shit. With the unpredictability and unnatural rhythms and rituals of a fucked up world.
It keeps you off balance. It assaults your senses, it flips your brain upside down.
I am tired of this.
So, so tired.
Friday, May 15, 2020
The Truth Is
I am a little nervous.
Every time I talk about where me and Carol are right now, how lucky we are, how we are not desperate, there's a little voice in my head that says "Watch yourself, buddy".
Unemployment benefits have been extended from 26 weeks to 39 weeks. That's almost 10 months.
That's good.
Hyundai is promising me up to 3 months of deferred payments. That's good.
The city job is making it sound pretty positive that I will be called back. That's good.
BUT
What if the city job does not call me back? This economy is too shaky to take anything for granted.
What are my employment prospects under that scenario? Being an old fucker works against me and, how many jobs will there be? A lot of jobs are going to go down the tubes.
What if I reach the end of unemployment benefits? What do I do?
Equally unnerving is the fact that I filed for unemployment on April 20, I filed for deferred payments with Hyundai a day or two later.
I have not seen a dime of unemployment benefits and Hyundai has not approved my request for deferred payments.
Every time I say me and Carol are basically on a paid vacation I feel guilty about it. It doesn't seem right. We put ourselves in this position and deserve credit for that, but lately I have been visualizing The Devil looking over my shoulder.
Licking his chops.
"Yeah, Joe boy, you're having a good time now. Enjoy yourself buddy. Enjoy your self-improvement efforts, enjoy your serenity, enjoy the weather, enjoy your new car, enjoy the fact that you don't have to work and there is no apparent consequence to that.
All of that is gonna change, buddy. Soon you will be eating cat food, your car will be repossessed, your house will be foreclosed on, you and the wife will be living in her Bug, and your sons won't even take you in.
You will stand outside their windows as you shuttle back and forth between Manchester and Portsmouth. Nose pressed against the windowpane, desperate pleading in your eyes. They will come to the door and toss a Slim Jim your way and say 'Go ahead, Dad - knock yourself out'. And when you ask to use the bathroom they'll say 'Go ahead and shit your pants, Dad. And use poison ivy to wipe your ass'.
Payback for all the times you beat them senseless with a Dwight Evans autographed baseball bat.
And then you will be mine."
It could happen.
Every time I talk about where me and Carol are right now, how lucky we are, how we are not desperate, there's a little voice in my head that says "Watch yourself, buddy".
Unemployment benefits have been extended from 26 weeks to 39 weeks. That's almost 10 months.
That's good.
Hyundai is promising me up to 3 months of deferred payments. That's good.
The city job is making it sound pretty positive that I will be called back. That's good.
BUT
What if the city job does not call me back? This economy is too shaky to take anything for granted.
What are my employment prospects under that scenario? Being an old fucker works against me and, how many jobs will there be? A lot of jobs are going to go down the tubes.
What if I reach the end of unemployment benefits? What do I do?
Equally unnerving is the fact that I filed for unemployment on April 20, I filed for deferred payments with Hyundai a day or two later.
I have not seen a dime of unemployment benefits and Hyundai has not approved my request for deferred payments.
Every time I say me and Carol are basically on a paid vacation I feel guilty about it. It doesn't seem right. We put ourselves in this position and deserve credit for that, but lately I have been visualizing The Devil looking over my shoulder.
Licking his chops.
"Yeah, Joe boy, you're having a good time now. Enjoy yourself buddy. Enjoy your self-improvement efforts, enjoy your serenity, enjoy the weather, enjoy your new car, enjoy the fact that you don't have to work and there is no apparent consequence to that.
All of that is gonna change, buddy. Soon you will be eating cat food, your car will be repossessed, your house will be foreclosed on, you and the wife will be living in her Bug, and your sons won't even take you in.
You will stand outside their windows as you shuttle back and forth between Manchester and Portsmouth. Nose pressed against the windowpane, desperate pleading in your eyes. They will come to the door and toss a Slim Jim your way and say 'Go ahead, Dad - knock yourself out'. And when you ask to use the bathroom they'll say 'Go ahead and shit your pants, Dad. And use poison ivy to wipe your ass'.
Payback for all the times you beat them senseless with a Dwight Evans autographed baseball bat.
And then you will be mine."
It could happen.
Thursday, May 14, 2020
Are We Getting Old?
Carol and I ask each other that question from time to time.
It is inevitable.
We get psyched to watch a fund raising benefit concert that is being mercilessly hyped. The commercial comes on, they run through the lineup of artists and we know 3 out 20 of them. And the people we know and love are old.
Comedy special - same thing. Who are these people?
Or we see talk show hype for Jimmy Kimmel or Jimmy Fallon or Stephen Colbert. You know, running down the guest list for the week. And we don't know any of them. None.
We try to do something on our laptops or tablets or phones and can't fucking figure it out.
One night recently we were watching TV, no doubt improving our brains, when Carol looked over at me and said "Look at us. Sitting with sweatshirts on and blankets on our laps." In May. In fucking May.
In our defense it really hasn't been that warm yet. But still.
Truth is we are getting old. 66 ain't middle aged, baby. Although I wish it was. Imagine yearning for middle age.
There is a twinge of the unknown in the question - are we getting old. It's a little uncomfortable. We know we are getting old.
It is comforting to know that my 66 is not my father's 66. I am proud of the way I exercise, I am proud of my youthful attitude. Youthful attitude from my perspective, at least.
But shit, man. I am 66. I don't want to be 66.
And the surgeries that Carol has gone through have taken a lot out of her. Her spirit is as strong as ever. Her determination. Her positive attitude. But physically she is not the same.
Fucking age, man. Has a way of reminding you that you are not as young as your mind seems to think you are.
This Covid-19 bullshit has slowed things down. It's so weird. Exactly at a moment when we should be thinking about "the rest of our lives" this deadly disease has put the breaks on. And given us time.
I am obsessed with not returning to the life or the Joe I was before. I refuse to do that. I am using this break as best I can.
I am staying active physically and mentally. Much more so than I do when I am working. I have come to realize just how much time I spend moping around when I have to work. What a waste.
Carol is working a lot from home and filling her down time with HGTV and Law & Order.
We are getting along well. Enjoying each other's company, actually. Could have gone the other way but it hasn't. I think that is a good sign.
I still feel guilty about the leisure we are enjoying. We just came back from a walk on a gorgeous day. I look around at the beauty, I smell it, I hear it and my mind is tilted sideways wondering how the hell can 80,000 Americans be dead with many more to die while we enjoy peaceful serenity.
We are getting old. No way around that.
But we have been given a weird break. I know this is it for me. Fix myself now or stagger mindlessly to the finish line in a useless, negative funk. Trust me, I will fix myself.
Carol has a different attitude too. We talk about how things are gonna change when we come through this. Deep down inside I know we will make those changes.
Life is extremely bizarre.
It is inevitable.
We get psyched to watch a fund raising benefit concert that is being mercilessly hyped. The commercial comes on, they run through the lineup of artists and we know 3 out 20 of them. And the people we know and love are old.
Comedy special - same thing. Who are these people?
Or we see talk show hype for Jimmy Kimmel or Jimmy Fallon or Stephen Colbert. You know, running down the guest list for the week. And we don't know any of them. None.
We try to do something on our laptops or tablets or phones and can't fucking figure it out.
One night recently we were watching TV, no doubt improving our brains, when Carol looked over at me and said "Look at us. Sitting with sweatshirts on and blankets on our laps." In May. In fucking May.
In our defense it really hasn't been that warm yet. But still.
Truth is we are getting old. 66 ain't middle aged, baby. Although I wish it was. Imagine yearning for middle age.
There is a twinge of the unknown in the question - are we getting old. It's a little uncomfortable. We know we are getting old.
It is comforting to know that my 66 is not my father's 66. I am proud of the way I exercise, I am proud of my youthful attitude. Youthful attitude from my perspective, at least.
But shit, man. I am 66. I don't want to be 66.
And the surgeries that Carol has gone through have taken a lot out of her. Her spirit is as strong as ever. Her determination. Her positive attitude. But physically she is not the same.
Fucking age, man. Has a way of reminding you that you are not as young as your mind seems to think you are.
This Covid-19 bullshit has slowed things down. It's so weird. Exactly at a moment when we should be thinking about "the rest of our lives" this deadly disease has put the breaks on. And given us time.
I am obsessed with not returning to the life or the Joe I was before. I refuse to do that. I am using this break as best I can.
I am staying active physically and mentally. Much more so than I do when I am working. I have come to realize just how much time I spend moping around when I have to work. What a waste.
Carol is working a lot from home and filling her down time with HGTV and Law & Order.
We are getting along well. Enjoying each other's company, actually. Could have gone the other way but it hasn't. I think that is a good sign.
I still feel guilty about the leisure we are enjoying. We just came back from a walk on a gorgeous day. I look around at the beauty, I smell it, I hear it and my mind is tilted sideways wondering how the hell can 80,000 Americans be dead with many more to die while we enjoy peaceful serenity.
We are getting old. No way around that.
But we have been given a weird break. I know this is it for me. Fix myself now or stagger mindlessly to the finish line in a useless, negative funk. Trust me, I will fix myself.
Carol has a different attitude too. We talk about how things are gonna change when we come through this. Deep down inside I know we will make those changes.
Life is extremely bizarre.
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
Oh My God, My Brain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm banging away at my brain.
It is resistant but becoming more pliable.
Discovered this guy named James Clear. Found him online, started reading his writings and philosophies and they resonated with me. You can pretty much research any topic and boom - he's got a column about it. His website is a wealth of knowledge.
Overcoming fear. Anxiety. Developing self confidence. Critical thinking. Hot damn and it's good stuff too. The columns are short and sweet and consistent in approach.
His basic philosophy is that small changes in habits lead to big changes over time. You should not overwhelm yourself with massive short term goals.
This appeals to me because my approach in life is the exact opposite. Apocalyptic.
When I get disgusted with my morbid obesity, I want to lose 20 pounds in a week. I'll start eating cottage cheese and crackers, I'll start exercising, and then a week later when I have actually gained weight, I'll say fuck it, pour myself a tumbler of whiskey and grab a bag of Oreos.
When I feel broke and depressed I start looking for big money jobs on Indeed. But I end up with Customer Service jobs that pay $11/hour to start - with unlimited advancement potential. Then I say fuck it, pour myself a tumbler of whiskey and grab a bag of Oreos.
When the world fell apart in March I dedicated myself to getting better. Starting with losing weight. So I started exercising like a fiend, knowing full well results would be slow.
When you are 66 years old you have to burn 16 million calories every day to lose 1 ounce per week. That's just the way it is. So I decided I would just do it, and also change my eating habits, and eventually I would have the body of an Olympic swimmer.
I am definitely getting there but it is slow. When I was 40 years old, if I changed my diet the way I have, if I exercised the way I have been doing, I would have lost 35 pounds in 9 days. But that's all right. I knew this is the way it would go. And I am getting there. I can feel it. I can see it.
More importantly I am doing it the James Clear way. The ultimate goal is to lose weight and get healthy; the immediate goal is to exercise 6 days/week and eat healthier. This I am doing.
The mind stuff is harder. I am battling a lifetime of negative, self abusive thoughts. I read Clear during the day and say to myself "Yeah, that makes sense - I can do this". The next day I crawl out of bed and my diseased brain has reverted to the same old negativity. But when it does I recognize it and try to reason my way around it. I am getting there.
I bought his book. Atomic Habits (atoms are small but can be powerful). Every time I read his columns there were ads for the book. This pissed me off. Many years ago I bought a bunch of self help books and was always disappointed. I decided they were rip offs and decided to stay away from them. You know, fix my life on my own. Strangely enough, that has not gone well.
I held out for a while but now I am glad I bought it. I only allow myself to read one or two chapters a day so I can absorb it. Then I'll read a couple of his columns.
Brief aside: I am also reading Marcus Aurelius, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. I am fighting a war. Every day is another battle. I believe if I keep feeding my brain James Clear, Marcus Aurelius and Ralph Waldo Emerson, my brain will get healthy. A healthy brain will lead to happiness.
Again, I am doing it the James Clear way. The ultimate goal is to rearrange the way my brain thinks; the immediate goal is to feed it positive stuff every day until I get there.
I am committed to this approach. It feels right.
It is resistant but becoming more pliable.
Discovered this guy named James Clear. Found him online, started reading his writings and philosophies and they resonated with me. You can pretty much research any topic and boom - he's got a column about it. His website is a wealth of knowledge.
Overcoming fear. Anxiety. Developing self confidence. Critical thinking. Hot damn and it's good stuff too. The columns are short and sweet and consistent in approach.
His basic philosophy is that small changes in habits lead to big changes over time. You should not overwhelm yourself with massive short term goals.
This appeals to me because my approach in life is the exact opposite. Apocalyptic.
When I get disgusted with my morbid obesity, I want to lose 20 pounds in a week. I'll start eating cottage cheese and crackers, I'll start exercising, and then a week later when I have actually gained weight, I'll say fuck it, pour myself a tumbler of whiskey and grab a bag of Oreos.
When I feel broke and depressed I start looking for big money jobs on Indeed. But I end up with Customer Service jobs that pay $11/hour to start - with unlimited advancement potential. Then I say fuck it, pour myself a tumbler of whiskey and grab a bag of Oreos.
When the world fell apart in March I dedicated myself to getting better. Starting with losing weight. So I started exercising like a fiend, knowing full well results would be slow.
When you are 66 years old you have to burn 16 million calories every day to lose 1 ounce per week. That's just the way it is. So I decided I would just do it, and also change my eating habits, and eventually I would have the body of an Olympic swimmer.
I am definitely getting there but it is slow. When I was 40 years old, if I changed my diet the way I have, if I exercised the way I have been doing, I would have lost 35 pounds in 9 days. But that's all right. I knew this is the way it would go. And I am getting there. I can feel it. I can see it.
More importantly I am doing it the James Clear way. The ultimate goal is to lose weight and get healthy; the immediate goal is to exercise 6 days/week and eat healthier. This I am doing.
The mind stuff is harder. I am battling a lifetime of negative, self abusive thoughts. I read Clear during the day and say to myself "Yeah, that makes sense - I can do this". The next day I crawl out of bed and my diseased brain has reverted to the same old negativity. But when it does I recognize it and try to reason my way around it. I am getting there.
I bought his book. Atomic Habits (atoms are small but can be powerful). Every time I read his columns there were ads for the book. This pissed me off. Many years ago I bought a bunch of self help books and was always disappointed. I decided they were rip offs and decided to stay away from them. You know, fix my life on my own. Strangely enough, that has not gone well.
I held out for a while but now I am glad I bought it. I only allow myself to read one or two chapters a day so I can absorb it. Then I'll read a couple of his columns.
Brief aside: I am also reading Marcus Aurelius, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. I am fighting a war. Every day is another battle. I believe if I keep feeding my brain James Clear, Marcus Aurelius and Ralph Waldo Emerson, my brain will get healthy. A healthy brain will lead to happiness.
Again, I am doing it the James Clear way. The ultimate goal is to rearrange the way my brain thinks; the immediate goal is to feed it positive stuff every day until I get there.
I am committed to this approach. It feels right.
Monday, May 11, 2020
Zoom Me Baby, Zoom Me Baby, All Night Long
Mother's Day. Via Zoom.
In one respect it was super cool.
I am striving for complete and raw honesty in here from now on as much as I can so..................honestly I was not 100% looking forward to it. It was a compromise that ran up against
my natural sensitivity, love and empathy. I hate this fucking situation we are in.
In my Mother's Day card to Carol I wrote that it broke my heart that we had to celebrate Mother's Day this way. And I meant it.
If there was ever a mother who deserved to be in her sons' company, to hug them and look into their eyes and see and feel their love - it is Carol. She is all about Keith and Craig. And Amanda. ALL about them. And Krista, when we get to meet her. Because if my son picked her out and she is comfortable with my son, then she is extraordinary.
But yesterday was not about hugging.
Honestly, I was nervous about it. Poured myself a short whiskey to ease my way into it.
Until I saw my sons' faces on the screen. And Amanda. Jesus Christ I cannot overstate the happiness and relief and pride and love I felt in that moment. It felt so good. Honestly, my spirits were super charged.
I (we) miss them so painfully. And it felt SO good to talk them as we looked into their faces.
We talked, we laughed, it was natural. As it always is with my family.
Amanda could not hang out because she was working. Carol and I were so touched that she took the time at work to be in on this. She has been through hell. She busted her ass to help to get a new bar/restaurant opened up and, on the day it was scheduled to open, the governor shut everything down. March 17. Do you have any idea how much that sucks?
She got laid off. But the restaurant opened on Mother's Day weekend for take out, so she was on the job.
Anyway, me and Carol and Keith and Craig were on Zoom for about an hour and a half. And it was the happiest hour and a half we have had in a long time.
Afterwards, I crashed. Silently. I could not hug my sons. Carol and I had a special dinner and a great dessert - alone together. Without our family. Killed me.
I tried very hard to keep up a positive vibe for Carol. I don't know if I succeeded. Because I was really hurting.
Carol is much better at handling this stuff than I am. When I went to bed I told her Mother's Day will be a lot better next year. I barely got the words out of my mouth. I was dying.
She said she was happy the kids made the effort, she really enjoyed the conversation, and she was happy. She said she could not understand how people talk about being depressed in this stay at home shit. I said nothing but Good Night.
Even today I am bumming. I bought Carol flowers, I bought her a slick pair of earrings from a local jeweler, I bought her a cool Red Sox t-shirt that will be here on Thursday. I tried to overwhelm her with gifts and thoughtfulness.
But ultimately, it was the Zoom thing with Keith and Craig and Amanda that did the trick. THAT is what she cared about; that is what made her happy.
I cannot accept that. I need to hug my sons. Tightly. I need to hug Amanda. I need to meet Krista. I need to have a beer with Keith in his new apartment. I need to explore Portsmouth, benefiting from Keith and Krista's insiders knowledge about where are the coolest places to go. I NEED that. I need physical contact and face to face honesty.
BUT I am so glad Carol accepted yesterday as it was. I wanted her to be happy so badly it was killing me. And she was.
It worked well.
Now we move on.
In one respect it was super cool.
I am striving for complete and raw honesty in here from now on as much as I can so..................honestly I was not 100% looking forward to it. It was a compromise that ran up against
my natural sensitivity, love and empathy. I hate this fucking situation we are in.
In my Mother's Day card to Carol I wrote that it broke my heart that we had to celebrate Mother's Day this way. And I meant it.
If there was ever a mother who deserved to be in her sons' company, to hug them and look into their eyes and see and feel their love - it is Carol. She is all about Keith and Craig. And Amanda. ALL about them. And Krista, when we get to meet her. Because if my son picked her out and she is comfortable with my son, then she is extraordinary.
But yesterday was not about hugging.
Honestly, I was nervous about it. Poured myself a short whiskey to ease my way into it.
Until I saw my sons' faces on the screen. And Amanda. Jesus Christ I cannot overstate the happiness and relief and pride and love I felt in that moment. It felt so good. Honestly, my spirits were super charged.
I (we) miss them so painfully. And it felt SO good to talk them as we looked into their faces.
We talked, we laughed, it was natural. As it always is with my family.
Amanda could not hang out because she was working. Carol and I were so touched that she took the time at work to be in on this. She has been through hell. She busted her ass to help to get a new bar/restaurant opened up and, on the day it was scheduled to open, the governor shut everything down. March 17. Do you have any idea how much that sucks?
She got laid off. But the restaurant opened on Mother's Day weekend for take out, so she was on the job.
Anyway, me and Carol and Keith and Craig were on Zoom for about an hour and a half. And it was the happiest hour and a half we have had in a long time.
Afterwards, I crashed. Silently. I could not hug my sons. Carol and I had a special dinner and a great dessert - alone together. Without our family. Killed me.
I tried very hard to keep up a positive vibe for Carol. I don't know if I succeeded. Because I was really hurting.
Carol is much better at handling this stuff than I am. When I went to bed I told her Mother's Day will be a lot better next year. I barely got the words out of my mouth. I was dying.
She said she was happy the kids made the effort, she really enjoyed the conversation, and she was happy. She said she could not understand how people talk about being depressed in this stay at home shit. I said nothing but Good Night.
Even today I am bumming. I bought Carol flowers, I bought her a slick pair of earrings from a local jeweler, I bought her a cool Red Sox t-shirt that will be here on Thursday. I tried to overwhelm her with gifts and thoughtfulness.
But ultimately, it was the Zoom thing with Keith and Craig and Amanda that did the trick. THAT is what she cared about; that is what made her happy.
I cannot accept that. I need to hug my sons. Tightly. I need to hug Amanda. I need to meet Krista. I need to have a beer with Keith in his new apartment. I need to explore Portsmouth, benefiting from Keith and Krista's insiders knowledge about where are the coolest places to go. I NEED that. I need physical contact and face to face honesty.
BUT I am so glad Carol accepted yesterday as it was. I wanted her to be happy so badly it was killing me. And she was.
It worked well.
Now we move on.
Thursday, May 7, 2020
Tears
I am tired of tears.
But there's no way around it. Tears are going to be with us for a long time.
I am tired of sitting down to the news at night and seeing people being interviewed. People who have lost their business, lost their jobs, lost family members without being able to say good bye or bury them.
Tired of seeing them cry as they express their desperation and sadness. Their bewilderment at how quickly and negatively their lives have changed. The shock of it all.
No money in savings, unemployment not kicked in yet, maybe not getting the government money yet. Not knowing where to turn or who to talk to.
Not knowing how they are going to pay for food. Or rent. Or mortgage.
Crying.
It is always the little people, isn't it? The people who work hard and play by the rules and enjoy very little fun in their lives. People who, when they get a little fun in their lives, appreciate it.
Never see the rich crying. Never hear much from the rich unless it is to shit on the real people. Try to deny them benefits. Try to avoid helping them. Look down on hard working regular human beings.
Carol and I are so fucking lucky. We have money in the bank, we have social security, Carol's retirement benefits, credit cards with a lot of room on them. We put ourselves in this position and I am proud of that.
But I still feel guilty. I see these people at night and it breaks my heart. Carol and I are on what is basically a paid vacation. Yeah, I am filing for unemployment, working with Hyundai to get some relief on payments for my new car, wondering whether either of my jobs will come back.
That's all going on. Still our lives right now are peaceful. Not frantic. I spend my days exercising, dieting, stimulating my brain - enjoying myself. It feels very good; it doesn't feel right.
I am sick of the way this country works. The way the world works. The people who work the hardest, who have the least amount of fun, who own the least amount of toys, are always the ones who get fucked when things go wrong.
I don't begrudge people with money their comfort. They earned it, they deserve it. As long as it was earned legitimately.
Got me a friend with loads of money and two homes - one in MA, one in FL. He busted his ass for that money and now he gets to worry less than most people. He deserves that peace of mind.
I begrudge the system. The system that makes it hard or impossible for people to get help even at a time like this when it is not their fault. They are suffering because of a once in a hundred years fluke that is completely out of their control. If society was truly civilized they would get the help they deserve. Promptly and with no questions asked.
All the partisan bullshit gets in the way. Heartless politicians whose job it is to protect the citizens, making a political football out of saving peoples' lives.
People are dying because of this. People are being broken because of this.
I will sit down tonight and I will see people crying. Tears will trickle down my cheeks as they do every time I see this. But my tears mean nothing. I am not suffering. I am empathetic.
Every tear that falls should cause debilitating pain to every heartless bastard that is standing in the way of financial relief. Each tear should drive them writhing to the ground, in waves of increasing intensity, until their pain equals the pain of the people they are deliberately harming.
I don't want to watch the news tonight. It will be depressing. It will bring me down. I don't want to watch it. But I will.
And I will see tears.
But there's no way around it. Tears are going to be with us for a long time.
I am tired of sitting down to the news at night and seeing people being interviewed. People who have lost their business, lost their jobs, lost family members without being able to say good bye or bury them.
Tired of seeing them cry as they express their desperation and sadness. Their bewilderment at how quickly and negatively their lives have changed. The shock of it all.
No money in savings, unemployment not kicked in yet, maybe not getting the government money yet. Not knowing where to turn or who to talk to.
Not knowing how they are going to pay for food. Or rent. Or mortgage.
Crying.
It is always the little people, isn't it? The people who work hard and play by the rules and enjoy very little fun in their lives. People who, when they get a little fun in their lives, appreciate it.
Never see the rich crying. Never hear much from the rich unless it is to shit on the real people. Try to deny them benefits. Try to avoid helping them. Look down on hard working regular human beings.
Carol and I are so fucking lucky. We have money in the bank, we have social security, Carol's retirement benefits, credit cards with a lot of room on them. We put ourselves in this position and I am proud of that.
But I still feel guilty. I see these people at night and it breaks my heart. Carol and I are on what is basically a paid vacation. Yeah, I am filing for unemployment, working with Hyundai to get some relief on payments for my new car, wondering whether either of my jobs will come back.
That's all going on. Still our lives right now are peaceful. Not frantic. I spend my days exercising, dieting, stimulating my brain - enjoying myself. It feels very good; it doesn't feel right.
I am sick of the way this country works. The way the world works. The people who work the hardest, who have the least amount of fun, who own the least amount of toys, are always the ones who get fucked when things go wrong.
I don't begrudge people with money their comfort. They earned it, they deserve it. As long as it was earned legitimately.
Got me a friend with loads of money and two homes - one in MA, one in FL. He busted his ass for that money and now he gets to worry less than most people. He deserves that peace of mind.
I begrudge the system. The system that makes it hard or impossible for people to get help even at a time like this when it is not their fault. They are suffering because of a once in a hundred years fluke that is completely out of their control. If society was truly civilized they would get the help they deserve. Promptly and with no questions asked.
All the partisan bullshit gets in the way. Heartless politicians whose job it is to protect the citizens, making a political football out of saving peoples' lives.
People are dying because of this. People are being broken because of this.
I will sit down tonight and I will see people crying. Tears will trickle down my cheeks as they do every time I see this. But my tears mean nothing. I am not suffering. I am empathetic.
Every tear that falls should cause debilitating pain to every heartless bastard that is standing in the way of financial relief. Each tear should drive them writhing to the ground, in waves of increasing intensity, until their pain equals the pain of the people they are deliberately harming.
I don't want to watch the news tonight. It will be depressing. It will bring me down. I don't want to watch it. But I will.
And I will see tears.
Monday, May 4, 2020
Kindness
A bit confused about this whole kindness thing thanks to Covid-19.
Fucking disease changes everything.
A lot of news programs show a sappy happy story at the end. You know, the cute kid shit or feisty grandma shit or nice guy in the neighborhood shit.
After a half hour of murder and rape and robbery and child abuse and overdoses and domestic violence they feature a story coated in sugar.
I hate that shit because for every act of kindness there are 100,000 acts of viciousness.
At least I used to hate that shit.
I find myself more receptive these days.
So much misery in the world right now; mountains of suffering. People losing family members and friends and co-workers; losing jobs, losing businesses, unable to get unemployment benefits or health insurance, haven't received the stimulus money yet.
People who are lost and broken and do not know what to do or where to turn.
I see that and can't comprehend the enormity of it. But I also see countless stories of kindness and caring and love.
People donating food and time and supplies and necessities, people helping the homeless and the aged, people helping kids, people helping the handicapped and the sick. People going out of their way to help other people.
I am so blown away. I recognize the selflessness of the givers and I empathize deeply with the gratefulness of those being helped.
Now I understand the sugar coated stories. We need those. We need to reconnect every day with our own humanity. Because life, the absolute core of life, is about feeling and family and caring and emotions; not jobs and money and careers and cars and houses.
The living of life, the actual leaving the house every day to provide and survive, that distorts perspective and damages the soul. Kindness replenishes the soul.
Kindness does not have to combat evil to be of value. Kindness just has to be, it has to exist. Maybe the ratio of bullshit to kindness is 100,000 to 1 but that one act stands on its own.
It makes you smile. It makes you feel good inside.
My perspective used to be that there are a helluva lot more assholes in the world than there are good people.
I am starting to think that doesn't matter. The good people, the kind people are the ones that count.
They are the soul of humanity.
Fucking disease changes everything.
A lot of news programs show a sappy happy story at the end. You know, the cute kid shit or feisty grandma shit or nice guy in the neighborhood shit.
After a half hour of murder and rape and robbery and child abuse and overdoses and domestic violence they feature a story coated in sugar.
I hate that shit because for every act of kindness there are 100,000 acts of viciousness.
At least I used to hate that shit.
I find myself more receptive these days.
So much misery in the world right now; mountains of suffering. People losing family members and friends and co-workers; losing jobs, losing businesses, unable to get unemployment benefits or health insurance, haven't received the stimulus money yet.
People who are lost and broken and do not know what to do or where to turn.
I see that and can't comprehend the enormity of it. But I also see countless stories of kindness and caring and love.
People donating food and time and supplies and necessities, people helping the homeless and the aged, people helping kids, people helping the handicapped and the sick. People going out of their way to help other people.
I am so blown away. I recognize the selflessness of the givers and I empathize deeply with the gratefulness of those being helped.
Now I understand the sugar coated stories. We need those. We need to reconnect every day with our own humanity. Because life, the absolute core of life, is about feeling and family and caring and emotions; not jobs and money and careers and cars and houses.
The living of life, the actual leaving the house every day to provide and survive, that distorts perspective and damages the soul. Kindness replenishes the soul.
Kindness does not have to combat evil to be of value. Kindness just has to be, it has to exist. Maybe the ratio of bullshit to kindness is 100,000 to 1 but that one act stands on its own.
It makes you smile. It makes you feel good inside.
My perspective used to be that there are a helluva lot more assholes in the world than there are good people.
I am starting to think that doesn't matter. The good people, the kind people are the ones that count.
They are the soul of humanity.
Painful
"Sometimes I think I have felt everything I am ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I'm not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I've already felt."
Joachin Phoenix as Theodore in "Her".
Joachin Phoenix as Theodore in "Her".
Sunday, May 3, 2020
Not Gonna Happen
Last week's issue of Time magazine revolved around the message "Finding Hope".
In it, Mikhail Gorbachev says: "The response to this new challenge cannot be purely national................decisions will have to be made by the entire world community."
"The overriding goal must be human security - providing food, water and a clean environment and caring for peoples' health".
After this pandemic is dealt with, he is calling on world leaders "to convene an emergency special session of the U.N. General Assembly...............it should be about nothing less than revising the entire global agenda".
Laura Spinney has a column titled "Rethinking Our Food System". She talks about disease causing microbes that jump from animals to humans. This is called spillover.
Spillover declined in the last century but has been increasing again in recent decades. "There is growing evidence that it is largely about the way we produce our food - in particular the ways in which modern farming forces humans, animals and microbes together."
"If the world's experience with Covid-19 has a silver lining it could be that it galvanizes us to take seriously our role in manufacturing our own diseases".
Last Friday Bill Maher did a piece about how everybody is up in arms about "wet markets" in China, widely considered to be the source of Covid-19. He contrasted that with how we treat the animals that are our food sources. The inhumane way we treat them, the way we crowd them into insufficient pens, the things we pump into them, the way we starve or overfeed them.
He made the point, and rightfully so, that we are not much better than wet markets, if at all.
The Dalai Lama says: "In this time of great fear it is important that we think of the long term challenges-and possibilities-of the entire globe."
"this pandemic serves as a warning that only by coming together with a coordinated, global response will we meet the unprecedented magnitude of the challenges we face".
Never gonna happen. None of it.
Brian Williams recently said on MSNBC that Americans do not generally learn from our mistakes. I will take that a step further and say that humans do not generally learn from our mistakes.
No matter what harms or threatens us or fucks up our lives we remain petty, unthinking and selfish.
Numero Uno, baby and fuck everybody else.
Don't get me wrong. I want all that good stuff to happen. I want it so bad I can taste it. I just don't believe anything will change.
If human beings learned there would only have been one World War. We become more petty, unthinking and selfish the further down the road we get. Which is insane when you consider the technology we have at our fingertips to make things better.
Once we survive this pandemic the world should change. Drastically. All countries should work together to improve the lives of every human. Equitably. If countries put aside political and national interests and pooled their resources the results would be mind blowing.
We have the capability to do this. We do not have the will.
I will not hold my breath. And it saddens me to say that.
In it, Mikhail Gorbachev says: "The response to this new challenge cannot be purely national................decisions will have to be made by the entire world community."
"The overriding goal must be human security - providing food, water and a clean environment and caring for peoples' health".
After this pandemic is dealt with, he is calling on world leaders "to convene an emergency special session of the U.N. General Assembly...............it should be about nothing less than revising the entire global agenda".
Laura Spinney has a column titled "Rethinking Our Food System". She talks about disease causing microbes that jump from animals to humans. This is called spillover.
Spillover declined in the last century but has been increasing again in recent decades. "There is growing evidence that it is largely about the way we produce our food - in particular the ways in which modern farming forces humans, animals and microbes together."
"If the world's experience with Covid-19 has a silver lining it could be that it galvanizes us to take seriously our role in manufacturing our own diseases".
Last Friday Bill Maher did a piece about how everybody is up in arms about "wet markets" in China, widely considered to be the source of Covid-19. He contrasted that with how we treat the animals that are our food sources. The inhumane way we treat them, the way we crowd them into insufficient pens, the things we pump into them, the way we starve or overfeed them.
He made the point, and rightfully so, that we are not much better than wet markets, if at all.
The Dalai Lama says: "In this time of great fear it is important that we think of the long term challenges-and possibilities-of the entire globe."
"this pandemic serves as a warning that only by coming together with a coordinated, global response will we meet the unprecedented magnitude of the challenges we face".
Never gonna happen. None of it.
Brian Williams recently said on MSNBC that Americans do not generally learn from our mistakes. I will take that a step further and say that humans do not generally learn from our mistakes.
No matter what harms or threatens us or fucks up our lives we remain petty, unthinking and selfish.
Numero Uno, baby and fuck everybody else.
Don't get me wrong. I want all that good stuff to happen. I want it so bad I can taste it. I just don't believe anything will change.
If human beings learned there would only have been one World War. We become more petty, unthinking and selfish the further down the road we get. Which is insane when you consider the technology we have at our fingertips to make things better.
Once we survive this pandemic the world should change. Drastically. All countries should work together to improve the lives of every human. Equitably. If countries put aside political and national interests and pooled their resources the results would be mind blowing.
We have the capability to do this. We do not have the will.
I will not hold my breath. And it saddens me to say that.
Saturday, May 2, 2020
The Toilet Paper Chronicles
A few weeks ago I had a truly banner day.
I scored 18 rolls of toilet paper in one day. 6 at Market Basket; 12 at Harvester Market.
This apparently caused a rip in the space time continuum that sparked a series of events truly unprecedented in the history of modern man.
Shortly after that I scored 4 more rolls at harvester. I was still in the "you never know" phase of the toilet paper spectrum at the time.
A short while later I scored 12 more rolls at Harvester. Now I was feeling secure. 34 rolls of toilet paper in inventory. All of it was real middle of the road stuff - 2 ply - but still, it was comforting.
Actually the total was higher than that. The first toilet paper I scored at the very beginning of this crisis was five individual rolls, again at Harvester. 1 ply. Fucking 1 ply. Who the hell ever decided that 1 ply toilet paper is acceptable?
Ever notice that wherever you work, or whenever you go out, the bathrooms are stocked with 1 ply? Cheap bastards. Every shitter should be able to take a shit without worrying about Feces Fingers.
We never even used the 1 ply. So the new adjusted total at the time was 39 rolls of toilet paper.
Until.............................
a couple of weeks ago I was shopping at Market Basket, walking down the aisle to get kleenex when what do I see before me but the gold standard of toilet paper.
Charmin Ultra-Strong. A 9 mega-roll package. Are you fucking kidding me? I could not have been happier if they were handing out free bottles of Crown Royal.
I snagged it.
If you have been keeping track that brings the total to 48 rolls of toilet paper, including 9 mega-rolls.
Please understand - I was back in Market Basket yesterday doing a week's shopping. Actually 2 weeks shopping. I got this shit down now. I don't leave my house more than once a week. Occasionally 2. But I am focused like a motherfucker.
When this stupidity started I was still leaving the house 3 or 4 times a week. I have since wised up.
Anyway I turn the corner yesterday to get kleenex (I blow my nose a LOT) and come face to face with toilet paper. Lots of it. Cheap shit and name brands. Plenty of name brands.
I walked right on by.
I am not a hoarder, despite your vicious accusations.
Editor's Note - Harvester Market deserves the Golden Toilet Paper Award for keeping my asshole consistently unconcerned.
I scored 18 rolls of toilet paper in one day. 6 at Market Basket; 12 at Harvester Market.
This apparently caused a rip in the space time continuum that sparked a series of events truly unprecedented in the history of modern man.
Shortly after that I scored 4 more rolls at harvester. I was still in the "you never know" phase of the toilet paper spectrum at the time.
A short while later I scored 12 more rolls at Harvester. Now I was feeling secure. 34 rolls of toilet paper in inventory. All of it was real middle of the road stuff - 2 ply - but still, it was comforting.
Actually the total was higher than that. The first toilet paper I scored at the very beginning of this crisis was five individual rolls, again at Harvester. 1 ply. Fucking 1 ply. Who the hell ever decided that 1 ply toilet paper is acceptable?
Ever notice that wherever you work, or whenever you go out, the bathrooms are stocked with 1 ply? Cheap bastards. Every shitter should be able to take a shit without worrying about Feces Fingers.
We never even used the 1 ply. So the new adjusted total at the time was 39 rolls of toilet paper.
Until.............................
a couple of weeks ago I was shopping at Market Basket, walking down the aisle to get kleenex when what do I see before me but the gold standard of toilet paper.
Charmin Ultra-Strong. A 9 mega-roll package. Are you fucking kidding me? I could not have been happier if they were handing out free bottles of Crown Royal.
I snagged it.
If you have been keeping track that brings the total to 48 rolls of toilet paper, including 9 mega-rolls.
Please understand - I was back in Market Basket yesterday doing a week's shopping. Actually 2 weeks shopping. I got this shit down now. I don't leave my house more than once a week. Occasionally 2. But I am focused like a motherfucker.
When this stupidity started I was still leaving the house 3 or 4 times a week. I have since wised up.
Anyway I turn the corner yesterday to get kleenex (I blow my nose a LOT) and come face to face with toilet paper. Lots of it. Cheap shit and name brands. Plenty of name brands.
I walked right on by.
I am not a hoarder, despite your vicious accusations.
Editor's Note - Harvester Market deserves the Golden Toilet Paper Award for keeping my asshole consistently unconcerned.
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