Refilling The Well

"In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting."

"He stood at the window of the empty cafe and watched the activities in the square and he said that it was good that God kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they'd have no heart to start at all."

From "All The Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy.

Had a miserable day at work on Thursday. As I was walking up the walk to report for duty I saw a woman measuring the opening to the back of her van.

This is never a good sign. Two minutes later I was helping her load a large sofa into the van. I spent forty five minutes outside, removing the legs, twisting, turning and cajoling the goddamn thing into the vehicle.

The temperature was over 90 degrees; the humidity was 10,000%.

When I finished my t-shirt was soaked to my skin, my work shirt was soaked front and back.

I walked back into a building where the two main air conditioners were not functioning. Toweled myself off as best I could and spent the next couple of hours waiting on people with shirts stuck to my body.

The store closes at 6:00; I was alone from 5:30 on. Big sales promotion that day. I looked up at 6:00 to see five or six people lined up to check out with stacks of clothes that would qualify them for the sale.

I asked them to wait as I ran outside to grab the open flag and came back in to lock the front doors so nobody else could get in.

It was 6:30 by the time I checked everybody out.

My irritation level was at the max, between starting my shift the way I did, working wet in the inside heat, and the fact that one woman in line had multiple kids who were loud as hell as I checked her out at the end.

I wanted to scream at the kids. I wanted to scream for the sake of screaming.

It was literally one of those rare moments when I had to will myself not to scream; not to yell. I kept my mouth shut through sheer force of will but my nerves were burning in frustration.

As I headed home I felt empty. Devoid of life, energy, enthusiasm. Not really giving a shit about anything.

Feeling absolutely nothing.

And who could blame me. Obviously I suffered more on that day than Jesus on the way to his crucifixion.

I woke up Friday feeling empty. Nothing there at all. My goal was to make it through my shift. Nothing more than that.

Hollow all Friday night.

This morning I sat down with a cup of coffee and Cormac McCarthy. Finished the book.

As I read I felt myself coming back alive. Resuscitated by exceptional prose. Rejuvenated by words and deep truths like the ones I began this post with.

That's how my body works. It feeds on art. On creativity. On the unique and beautifully expressed.

I like it that way.

Especially when raw truth is expressed in a manner that I can respect; that I can connect with.

And so I begin again.

A Comparison

Watched a chunk of the republican national convention last week. Watched the first night of the Democratic national convention last night.

Two different worlds.

republicans were vicious and mean spirited, continuously attacking Hillary Clinton in a juvenile way. It was all about hate, it was all about ratcheting up emotions in people too uninformed to know what was being done to them.

Frustrated, angry people - people busting their ass every day just to make it through the day with no clue about what tomorrow may bring. People being manipulated by Trump and his lackeys into believing that a billionaire republican presidential candidate (I can't believe I'm writing those words about Trump) actually cares about the working stiff, about their struggles, about the inequities in the system designed to keep the poor where they are; to rob them of any dignity or hope.

Trump got rich by manipulating the system to his advantage, and that includes stiffing contractors and employees, filing for bankruptcy repeatedly and lying, cheating and stealing.

I despise that but there is nothing I can do about it. That is the way America operates - both in business and in politics.

What I despise is that Trump has tapped into the frustration, anger and hopelessness of working class people and is using those emotions to manipulate them into believing that he will be their savior.

There is more of Satan in Trump than savior.

The republican national convention was vicious, juvenile, negative and divisive.

An accurate reflection of their candidate.

Last night the Democratic convention was attended by and run by adults. The speeches were positive, they were uplifting. When they attacked Trump it was done professionally and subtly.

Except for Elizabeth Warren, who goes for the jugular.

Attendees who were interviewed spoke intelligently; they were informed. Attendees at the rnc who were interviewed came across as the idiotic sheep that they are. Obviously uninformed and blindly following Donald Trump into the abyss.

One thing that really got to me about the DNC last night were the tears in the audience when Bernie Sanders spoke. Lots of them.

This man has built a career in consistent expression of his ideals and he has never wavered. He is the candidate who has truly got the backs of the American people.

He understands their troubles, he cares about them and he fights for them.

I think it is a rare situation when genuine tears are shed by voters over the defeat of a presidential candidate.

That shows how deeply Bernie moved people.

He did his part last night to persuade his supporters to support Hillary Clinton. As disappointed as they are this is what has to happen to help insure that Trump Chump does not get near the White House.

Three more nights to go at the DNC. I hope fervently that every single Democratic voter comes around to supporting Hillary Clinton.

And some republicans too.

Not sure what to expect there. But I am positive that the rest of the convention will continue to take the high road. That people will speak intelligently, honestly and passionately.

In direct contrast to the immature shit show the republicans put on.

And Talking About "All The Pretty Horses"....re: previous post

A quote from the book that made me laugh this morning was: "He shook his head. I despise the wintertime. I never did see what was the use in there even bein one."

Holy Christ do I agree with that.

It also got me thinking about my current situation, and I have to be delicate here.

Because of my new schedule this summer is moving at a delicious pace for me. I have so much time to just be in it that it slows everything down.

I have been sitting out on my screened-in porch for an hour now, writing.

My gratefulness continues to expand. I still shake my head and say "Wow." Instead of beginning to take it for granted, it appears that my appreciation grows ever stronger.

The delicate truth is in relation to Carol.

She inserted the retirement word into my brain, she supported me as I investigated, she was happy when I made it happen.

And I try very hard to pamper her, to make her home life as easy as possible so all she has to do is to go to work and come on home.

But it's that "all she has to do" part that is thorny.

She is a human being. Even though she really initiated this process, even though I know she appreciates what I do around the house - she still has to go to work.

She has to go to work knowing I can sleep late and move slowly. Knowing that my work related stress is practically non-existent even as hers shoots up through the roof.

No matter what remains unsaid in her head, I know this situation has got to be difficult for her.

I can only continue to do everything in my power to make her life easier. And hopefully we can find an equation that will allow her to retire or semi-retire soon, so we can enjoy freedom together.

We deserve it. We are both sixty two years old. We have worked hard for a lifetime and we have sacrificed and worried.

I am feeling extraordinarily optimistic these days, which of course is no surprise.

I think we will figure this out.

Dumb Luck

Yesterday morning I finished reading "Are We Smart Enough To Know How Smart Animals Are?"

As I'm sure you recall, I tried reading this puppy after finishing "Infinite Jest" but my brain rebelled. It was just too bruised.

So I skipped on to "Bridge of Sighs" which was enormously comforting. Richard Russo, man - he is officially on my list of go to writers when I need to catch my breath. Have read a couple of his books and they are balm for the battered soul.

Anyway I grabbed up "Smart Enough" after BOS and gobbled it up. My brain had healed.

Parts of it were dry - it was written by a scientist - actually the back cover describes him as an ethologist and a primatologist which is a somewhat incomprehensible yet heavy duty description - but overall it supported my position that animals are sacred and should be treated so.

There is a hell of a lot more to the book than that, but overall it was in sync with my view of the animal world, complete with a thinly veiled disdain for humanity.

One fact surfaced towards the end of the book that disturbed me. And I quote: "Brains are the most 'expensive' organs around. They are true energy hogs, using twenty times more calories per unit than muscle tissue."

I have gained around five pounds since I retired.

What does this mean?

Moving on, I picked up "All The Pretty Horses" by Cormac McCarthy this morning. And was immediately plunged into the all too familiar comfort zone that good literature provides for me.

It is such an emotional thing for me. I won't belabor the point because I do it constantly in here, but when you recognize something that brings peace to your soul you gotta roll with it.

And roll I do.

McCarthy is one of "those" authors - much celebrated. I have read other of his books and enjoyed them.

The book is set out west in 1949 and revolves around two kids - around sixteen years old - who decide to shake up their lives and run off to Mexico. They come from ranching families and the book catches the tail end of a cowboy culture. They are on horseback.

I know nothing of this life. Still, as I read this morning I felt a longing to be them. To take off on a mad adventure, to live in a simpler world of hard work, hard knocks and no fucking "smart" phones.

This is what good literature does.

And the writing. Holy shit, the writing.

Dig this: "His father rode sitting slightly forward in the saddle, holding the reins in one hand about two inches above the saddlehorn. So thin and frail, lost in his clothes. Looking over the country with those sunken eyes as if the world out there had been altered or made suspect by what he'd seen of it elsewhere. As if he might never see it right again. Or worse did see it right at last. See it as it had always been, would forever be."

What committed reader could read those words and not see their own life, their own perceptions in them?

At least people of a certain age.

How could anyone possibly read those words and not stop in amazement to think about their own life, to examine their own perspective, maybe suddenly realize a truth that has been gnawing at them in a vague way?

Jesus Christ I live for this shit.

Here's the problem. This book is Volume 1 of a trilogy known as "The Border Trilogy." I have no choice now but to pick up the other two.

And the really fun fact is I picked this book at random. I had some time to kill in Concord and wandered into Gibson's Bookstore, which is becoming a delicious habit.

Walked to the used book rack and grabbed the book because I know the author. Did not know it was part of a trilogy. Could have been Volume 2 or Volume nothing for all I knew.

My week has started off pretty well.

We Are Moving To Alaska

My mind is made up.

Over the last couple of weeks I have only exercised once or twice. It is too goddamn hot.

This truly sucks because I had momentum rolling along like a goddamn steamroller - I organized my time around working out and was religious about getting it done.

I felt good physically, I felt good mentally - I was proud of my commitment and the drive that kept me going.

After two weeks of smothering heat and almost complete inactivity my weight has ballooned to 295 pounds.

I feel lethargic, permanently tired, and my brain has become slow moving, dull witted and generally unaware.

This is dangerous. Technically I am a senior citizen. I have to work harder to remain alert and to stay physically healthy. When I don't work at it I backslide exponentially.

Age is a bitch, baby.

I choose Alaska over lethargy.

But wait - perhaps there is a simpler solution.

I heard there is this thing called air conditioning.

Trouble is, Carol and I have tried that in the past. Neither one of us can sleep with an air conditioner noise polluting the room.

I'm sure we could find a much quieter machine in 2016 but still, I doubt it would be quiet enough for us.

If you are aware of a perfectly silent a/c please drop me a line.

The best answer would be central air conditioning. Our heating system is forced hot air. Central a/c would be perfect and it would cool the whole house.

Problem is Carol and I rarely need a/c. We are rugged individualists, hearty country folk who prefer cooling breezes and gently rolling nights.

What?

Sorry the rolling night thing just popped into my head. I liked the sound of it regardless of the relevance to the conversation at hand; I just had to go with it.

Problem is we can't afford the $250,000 it would take to install central a/c. Plus a cost/benefit analysis would result in silly data when you consider the fact that we would only use the a/c ten days a year.

Alaska might not be so bad.

Especially if we can find a town like Cicely.

Why Can't Scientists Keep It Simple

Read an interesting article in Time magazine about a new approach to improving the odds that a human embryo will develop normally.

Thanks to yogurt.

Bear with me now, this gets a little muddy.

According to the article, "dairy scientists were trying to understand why a variety of bacteria that gives yogurt its tang was constantly getting infected by viruses that altered the taste of the product."

They sequenced the genome of the bacteria and kept getting "odd repeated fragments of DNA." They had no idea what these fragments meant until they figured out that this was how the bacteria kept a genetic record of the viruses that had infected them. The bacteria then used this knowledge as a weapon to defeat any virus that attempted to infect it a second time.

Pretty cool, huh?

Now you have something interesting to talk about at work today. Your co-workers will be impressed and band together to suggest you be promoted.

Or they might just jam a Twinkie in your face and stomp on your lunch.

Without getting into all the boring details, scientists made the leap to assuming this knowledge could be used to reduce genetic defects in embryos.

The plan is to inject a specially prepared liquid into an embryo, which will alter the DNA at the cell level, literally re-writing the embryos genetic code.

Sounds absolutely fantastic if it is being used to try to wipe out birth defects or diseases or genetic malfunctions; sounds goddamn frightening if some wanker decides to use it to create Donald Trump clones.

Or even worse - clones of Donald Trump voters.

Although if wiping out genetic malfunctions is the goal there could never be another Trump or any more Trump supporters.

That is not why I am in here today. Here is what fascinates me.

The acronym for the repeated fragments of DNA is CRISPR.

Which stands for "clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats."

Are you kidding me? They couldn't come up with something more simple? Like "birth defect busters", which could be shortened to BDB's.

BDB's sounds cool and so does birth defect busters. They could make a movie about it and then 32 years later create a remake of the movie starring all female leads.

Calling these things clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats would be like calling an automobile "thing that moves when you step on the gas."

That's it. My brain has been fried through all this science. "She blinded me with science." Great song. Sorry, my mind flashed back.

I am out of here.

OK - Now I Get It (No I Don't)

Woke up this morning to a lawn covered in six inches of snow.

Put on my heavy duty PATS sweatshirt, sweatpants and walked downstairs to a frigid and unforgiving environment.

I am not feeling inspired and motivated today - I am feeling cold.

I have this thing hanging on the wall in my kitchen called a calendar. I got right up close to it and checked the date.

July 20. It says July 20.

When I was a child I was told that July is a hot month in New England. Apparently I was lied to.

I resent that.

This global cooling thing is pissing me off. How can republicans not believe in global cooling?

Oh yeah, I forgot - they don't believe in science, they do believe in God, they don't believe that women should have complete control of their own bodies, they don't believe that the only thing that matters between two people is love (because they are not aware of an emotion defined as love).

Sorry - I digress. Those are all topics for another time and place.

But wait - I just ran down to The Big Ride to throw some paperwork on the seat so I won't forget it when I leave. I am senile you know.

It is 1,000 degrees warmer outside this house than it is inside. I encountered three different temperate zones as I ran down to the car.

Inside the house it is minus 44 degrees. On the porch it is 62 degrees. Outside it is 108 degrees.

I am thoroughly baffled now. Don't know what to do. Don't know what to expect.

Exactly what reality is this?

Christ I am too old to try to figure all this out. I'll just decide to be happy on those days my body tells me to be happy.

As for the rest of my time - I will be a gnarled old, miserable wretch of a man who spits at nuns, curses little babies and drinks whiskey with his omelets.