My Morning Prayer

 Throughout this vicious preparing to move process I have been less than a man.

I have whined, lost my temper, been indecisive, and been mean and inconsiderate of Carol.

Because of that I have increased the stress on her by 50%. What a selfish fool I have been.

Today we close on both houses. Tomorrow we move. Two more extraordinarily stressful days.

My prayer is as follows.

Give me the strength and maturity and discipline and consideration to consider Carol's emotions every step of the way. To step back, take a breath, think, and be responsible in every decision and in dealing with every problem that occurs these next two days. Help me to not add even 1% more stress onto Carol's shoulders. Help me to be a man. Help me to make what is ultimately an extraordinarily happy occurrence in our life be as happy as it can possibly be. Help me to allow my love for Carol to shine through and give her the strength and confidence she needs. Please allow me to make her happy. Allow me to help her get to the place of happiness in our new home that she deserves.

Amen.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we close on the new house.

We may survive this torture after all.

Still, I ask for your prayers.

Until Then

 Just the other day I asked the Marquis de Sade what his favorite method of torture is.

He said "Moving".

Carol and I are suffering like dogs. Every day we get up, have a cup of coffee, watch an episode of Law & Order and then..........get back to packing.

We have lived in this house for 37 years. Which makes it an endless torture chamber of shit that has to be dealt with. Everything takes three times longer to do than you expect because there are endless layers of miscellaneous shit that has accumulated.

I believe this is the most physically brutal thing we have ever dealt with. And right near the top of the most psychologically brutal things we have ever dealt with.

We are 69 years old, for Christ sake.

There are days when we spend 3, 4, even 5 hours dealing with this shit. Packing. Carrying boxes. Filling trash bags. Walking up and down flights of stairs. Over and over and over again. From the second floor down to the first floor down to the basement and back up again. There have been days when we only lasted a couple of hours. We are frazzled, overwhelmed and short-tempered.

People ask me why we didn't have the movers do the packing.

Impossible. We have had to weed out so much shit we would have  had to look over the movers' shoulders and say "pack this, trash that, separate this" 1000 fucking times.

We are exhausted.

Endless trips to the dump, to Goodwill, to Home Depot for boxes and tape, to the liquor store to get empty boxes from my friend who manages the store.

Every day we go as long as we can, maybe an hour at a time, then we sit for 15 minutes. Then we get back up. And every time we get up it gets harder and harder. Until we can't do it anymore.

Then we collapse for the night. And get up in the morning and do it all over again.

Four more days to go. Feels like an impossible task. Like we will not get it done.

But we will.

And we will be living in a beautiful new home living a renewed life in a new town. Starting over so late in life. Magic.

Until then it all fucking sucks.

So Good

 Love this time of year.

When I watch horror movies I root for the Evil Presence. I want him to win. I want him to torment, torture and kill Innocent Victims. I want to see prolonged torture sessions filled with twisted suffering and maximum bloodshed. Screams. Severed limbs and crushed skulls.

I do NOT want some  lame happy ending where Pure Evil is defeated.

I don't know what that says about me.

I do know that it makes me feel good.

Disbelief

 I do not believe that when Cologuard is delivered to peoples' houses...........they smile.

Sleepy Time Time

 Holy Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What am I doing up this fucking late?

I am serene. Got nothing on my mind.

What am I doing up This Fucking Late??????????????

When Logic Runs Up Against Emotion (The Moving Chronicles)

My books. My precious books.

They are draining me. I have spent countless hours packing up books. A ridiculous amount of time. I have to. I have 14 million books. And they gotta go.

I have to sort the ones that are staying from the ones that are going. I have to transport the rejects to the swap shop at the dump, and to Goodwill.

They are not fucking rejects. They are my goddamn life.

I have to keep redefining the logic behind what stays and what goes. As the stay list gets thinner my heart gets more vulnerable.

Logic says "You gotta get rid of the goddamn books. Why do you need them?" Emotion says "Because they represent my whole fucking life." I came out of the womb with a book in my hands. Catcher In The Rye. And I never looked back.

Books have given me tens of thousands of hours of peace during my 69 years - indescribable peace and joy. I want to keep every one of them because they define me in every stage of my life. They represent my interests, my whims, my dreams and fantasies, my education, and my soul. At different ages and different stages and they are all me.

I love the way they feel in my hands. I love the way they smell. I love the worn ones, I love the pristine ones. I love the way they look and what a book represents.

We are not technically downsizing. The new place is as big if not bigger than this place. But it does not make sense to keep dragging all these books around. I will never re-read 99% of them. I used to think they would be the legacy I will leave behind, but I am just fooling myself. Nobody cares what books I have read but me. And I care deeply. But......................

There is a great deal of emotion tied up in moving, especially at the stage of life Carol and I are in. There is a powerful sense of taking the last turn in the road in our life. Sobering. 

Getting rid of stuff, downsizing, making our life easier, shedding baggage. There is a direct and somewhat sad message in what we are doing.

Especially when it comes to my books. I feel like I am tearing off chunks of my flesh and throwing them to the wolves. Truthfully, I am attacking my own soul, my soul which is staggering in bewilderment.

The longer you stick around, the nastier life gets.

I Can Get Good

 If the Detroit Lions can get good, I can get good.

Unrelated: I Love The Boston Bruins.

I was watching Behind the B. The Bruins got visited by Johnny Bucyk and Derek Sanderson. Priceless.

Bucyk was talking about today's training methods. He said: "In my day we would be sitting in a bar an hour after practice." Love it. I could have been a professional athlete back in the day.

It was photo day for the B's. They were doing those ridiculous tough guy poses. They were talking about all the promotional things the players do today. Sanderson was asked if they did that kind of stuff in his day. He smirked sarcastically and said "Are you kidding me? I took off my skates after the last day of the season and didn't put them back on again until the first day of practice." 

Love it.

Is There a Message in Everything? Or Can Some Things Just Be Fun?

 I am watching more college football than NFL football this year.

What is the meaning of this?

An Anguished Plea

The previous post was written by a man who is not handling the stress of moving very well.

This does not surprise you.

You must disregard his weakness, if you can find it in your heart to do so. He could use the absolution.

He recognizes this moment in his life as pivotal. He doesn't want to blow it.

Although he has not earned it, he asks for your forgiveness and your empathy.

He yearns to become a better man, as time grows short.

He cannot do it alone.

Let's Pretend (As 10/30 Looms)

Let's pretend you sell your house.

You cannot even believe that it happened. Your house is so run down it has been condemned by the local authorities. Toilets won't flush, roof leaks, foundation is sagging, lead paint flakes into your apple spice oatmeal in the morning.

And yet a young enthusiastic buyer wants your house - he wants it. And makes you an offer that you cannot refuse; it is $75,000 more than the house is worth. AND he waives his right to an inspection.

Champagne corks are popping, you rip off a quick trip to Ibiza, and you invest in bitcoin. Holy shit your life is suddenly magic.

You execute a signed P&S while your dreams dance before your eyes on a Saturday afternoon.

And then.....................and then.............your defective, rotting deck decides this is a good time to start ripping away from your house. The appraisor says "Holy shit, you better get this fixed or your buyer/savior will not get his financing. "You put up crime tape so Amazon delivery people will not lose their legs, and you google.

You waste time, you waste time as you research solutions - the closing date looms like the Grim Reaper with his scythe cocked - and you find "a guy" - a guy referred through a reputable home repair site - a guy who has nothing but good reviews online - you contact him and he agrees to come out and take a look.

You lose a few days. 

He says he can definitely repair the deck without replacing it, makes a reasonable offer ,which you accept, and tells you he will be out on Saturday (last week). Meanwhile you lose a week. It rains that day. He doesn't show up. He doesn't call. You call him and he gets pissed that you questioned his judgement to not bother calling.

You decide to kiss his ass (desperation) and he agrees he will be out this week. He texts last night just as you are getting out of work (after narrowly avoiding killing every one of your co-workers and every customer you deal with) and tells you he will send two guys out tomorrow (today) mid-morning to fix the deck.

They don't show up. You lose five more days. You text him at 11:45. He doesn't respond. You call and cannot get through - his phone will not accept the call. The day is effectively wasted  - no word from this fucking scumbag.

The deck creaks and groans, and sags some more.

Meanwhile, during this process, because you are a problem solver and your antennae are standing at attention - and as you are shampooing the shit out of your hair excreted there by Contractor #1, you got more referrals through another "reputable" home repair site. You contacted each and every one of them and each and every one of them had an excuse as to why they could not take on the project. But of course they had helpful suggestions. About as useful as your 93 year old grandmother from the old country explaining to you the most efficient way to shoot up smack to get the most bang for your buck.

Desperation escalates as doom looms.

Of course the situation will be resolved somehow someway - it has to be - but now you will probably have to kiss the buyer's ass for repair expense at double the cost.

Is this the way life is supposed to work?

You bet your fucking ass.

Just A Typical Life

You spend your whole life backing yourself into a corner until you can't find the room to move.

The problem is, in the end, your back is against the wall and you are facing outwards. Towards the rest of the world.

And all anybody can see in your eyes is shame.

Respect & Money

 So essentially I have locked myself into working for the "rest of my life" to support the lifestyle to which we have become accustomed (actually better).

The new joint will cost no more than the old joint - we are just substituting HOA fees for a mortgage payment, and taxes for taxes.

Although we will have no mortgage, we understand that valuations of mobile homes vary widely and it is entirely possible this home we are buying might be worth $85,000 less next year. We looked at the sales history of this place and it is all over the map in a relatively short time. We are buying at a time that realtors drool over - everything is up now, but who knows what reality will be if and when we decide to sell.

Then again we are almost 70 years old - where the fuck are we going to go from here?

Another consideration is Keith & Craig's obligations down the road. I always worried that if we could not escape this dungeon, and we died in a flaming car wreck involving my Hyundai and a circus van - they would have to sell this dump warts and all (good luck) and deal with the remaining balance on the fucking mortgage. We own the new place free & clear - all they gotta do is sell it and split the proceeds 50/50. Hopefully it will be easy enough to sell - it is pretty and peaceful. Besides, anything they get from the sale is gravy. When the time comes I hope it will ease their burdens considerably.

I have backed us into a corner through a lifetime of bad decisions and indecision and lack of initiative. We got an offer that we could not refuse - if we dicked around, we would no doubt lose this opportunity and get an offer that was $100K less. We found a place that we love - a place that comes with financial burdens we did not want to deal with. But we will. I will look so damn good in a McDonalds paper hat.

Shelly Winters played a character on Law & Order who killed her husband because she caught him cheating on her. She said "I gave him 25 years of my life and he threw it all away." That comment floored me. 

I feel that way about Carol. If I had achieved what I was capable of achieving, if I had performed at a professional level to match my "potential", her life would have been much easier, much more enjoyable, much more carefree. And she has given me forty five years.

I am happy to make this move. I truly am. It is the right move at the right time. I love the new place and this is a miracle bailout for us in this house. I am especially happy for Carol. She deserves this. Leaving here will be SO hard for her, but living in the new place will make her SO happy. She loves it. She loves it, she loves it, she loves it.

It will not allow me to retire. My fault. Nobody else's.

So now I am shooting for respect & money. I have not earned respect in 69 years and rightfully so - I aim to do it now. I have worked for chump change in 69 years - I aim to make enough money to make us secure - unafraid.

I accept the fact that I have to work, but it is a painful truth that I will have to live with.

Redemption comes with strings attached. There is no free lunch in heaven or in hell.

I will love living in the new place. It is beautiful. We will be happy there. Even the cats, after they get over the shock of the move.

Maybe, maybe, some day I will find a solution to my own shortcomings.

I hope that our new life will destroy my perception that Carol might feel like I have thrown away the last 45 years of her life. My deepest, darkest fear.

Redemption comes with strings attached.

What All This Means

 "I've been aware of the time going by, they say, in the end, it's the wink of an eye"

"ah, the lovers as they run through the night, leaving nothing but to choose off and fight, and tear at the world with all their might, while the ships bearing their dreams sail out of sight"

"Are you there? Say a prayer for the pretender, who started out so young and strong, only to surrender"

From The Pretender by Jackson Browne

That's pretty much where I was and still am to some extent. My life has flown by. It is a cliche because every human being experiences it, but you cruise along not giving a lot of thought to much of anything until you look up and you are 69. Sixty nine. Suddenly every clock is your enemy.

You have watched your dreams sail away. I never had specific dreams but I had a solid sense of who and where I wanted to be at this point in my life. I am not there. Not even close.

I was young and strong but had the young and strong beaten out of me. I surrendered.

And that's how I expected it all to end.

Instead I am going to have a grandson. I am going to be living in a beautiful home mortgage free. The sheer poetry of this new reality is staggering. 

At the specific moment when the dying embers of the life you wanted are about to be extinguished, a benevolent and unidentified spirit breathes life into a new and unexpected reality. 

One that brings with it unimaginable joy.

Let's Get Reacquainted

This is how my life has changed in recent history:

Carol and I found out we are going to be grandparents. Craig & Amanda are having a baby in March of 2024. Isn't that insane? We are so happy for them and so happy for us. Keith and Craig magically transformed our life in ways that kept our hearts full of love, our faces smiling, and our souls nourished, and they continue to do so. Craig & Amanda have no idea what to expect until it happens. Then their minds will be blown.

We had given up on that dream long ago and suddenly - the dream has become reality. A grandson. A grandson named Jackson Joseph Testa. I am blown away. We are blown away. Our life has suddenly become so much richer, magical - something we can only imagine, but something that will change our life exponentially and expand our emotional horizons beyond belief. We cannot wait.

We sold our house and bought a new joint. In less than a week. Never thought it would happen. Listed our place on a Wednesday, had a signed P&S on Saturday, and our offer on the new place was accepted on Tuesday. How the hell did that happen? I thought the price we listed the house at was $50K more than we would ever get. Instead we got $10K more than we asked for.

The new place is a double wide mobile home and it is beautiful. We are buying it outright - no mortgage. In a beautiful over 55 community that is meticulously maintained. Peaceful and quiet. I plan on starting a whiskey-lovers club and generally raising a ruckus.

We broke all our rules in buying the new place, because fate dictated. First of all we will never get another offer on our house to match this one so we had to take advantage. We wanted to move closer to civilization - we moved farther from civilization. We wanted to live in a co-op (owner owned community) - the new place is not that. We wanted low HOA fees - we got high HOA fees.

What's the lesson? You can't always get what you want. But you can get the tastiest parts of what you want, with a little luck. Don't sacrifice the good to chase the perfect. Words of wisdom.

We are moving on October 31 (hopefully not a bizarre omen) so we are officially in out-of-our-fucking-minds mode. Such a huge hassle, but the reward will be a new life in a beautiful place with a minimum of clutter. We are forced to downsize after living for 37 years in this house, which is good - we will be starting clean and mean.

I am looking to make a clean break - I have stepped up the job search because if I have to commute to this job after moving to the new place I will gouge out my eyes. On October 31 I want to be sitting in my new home with a new (hopefully remote) job. I need that. I want that. I have to fucking have it.

I am having knee replacement surgery in the future. My right knee has gotten out of control. Painful, unstable, and annoying. I have to wear a wrap all the time. Again. The surgery was scheduled for 10/17 but I postponed it after selling/buying the houses - too much frantic running around in October. So probably 2024. It will be good to be pain-free and mobile.

I recently told you that the next 10 years of my life are probably it. I'd be happy with 20 healthy years but I am not holding out hope. So, becoming a grandfather, selling this run-down home of 37 years and buying a beautiful new place, dumping the soul-sucking job - these are beautiful things, the stuff that dreams are made of. The reality of starting a whole new life at this stage of existence is deliciously insane. Lucky. Perfect. Meant to be.

I really don't have the words for it.