Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

 When you take the day off from work because of weather so cold it is described as "generational cold", and your boss questions you........................you know that is a job you gotta leave in the rear view mirror.

The temperature right now where I work is 6 degrees, with a wind chill of -15 degrees. If I was foolish enough to go in I would get out at 6 pm. The temperature at 6 pm is projected to be -4 degrees with a wind chill of at least 20 below zero, more likely 25 or 30 below.

I should put myself outside in all that shit for a job where not one person will walk into the office and there will be a total of three phone calls? You cannot be serious.

All the administrative people will be "working from home".  What am I?  A sacrificial lamb?

I don't give a damn who did go to work today, they shouldn't be there - the fucking place should be closed. This is not an essential business and this weather is dangerous. Every weather report includes a Wind Chill Warning -  "Dangerously cold wind chills today through Saturday." The wind chill is projected to go as low as 40 degrees below zero.

We are not talking about a hospital here - we are talking about a fucking entertainment venue.

Priorities do get confused, don't you think?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Most Mechanics.....................

Had my car inspected today.

Of course I have nothing to worry about - I drive a 2020 Hyundai Elantra muscle car bought brand new. This thing is a beast.

The mechanic we have been going to for 36 years sold his business last year. An uncomfortable moment.

When you have a 36 year relationship with a mechanic, you trust him and he trusts you. That relationship is more important than your marriage. 

Most mechanics want to rape you and beat you and illegally obtain your bank account numbers so they can bleed you dry financially before they set you up in a criminal scam that ends up with you serving a life sentence with no possibility of parole.

So now we have new guys we gotta deal with.

I picked up my car an hour ago and had a "guy" conversation with a couple of "guys" - strangers to me.

It seemed to go well, but when I got home I had the typical internal debate - was that me talking or was that Performance Joe talking?

The conversation revolved around pub food, pub atmosphere, beer etc. A conversation like that is in my wheelhouse - give me a comfortable bar, cold beer and meaningful whiskey, good food, a cool bartender and an easy-going waitress prone to genuine laughter, and I'm not coming home for a couple of days.

Still, I could have been performing. But sometimes I think that in certain situations Performance Joe is actually Real Joe. I mean it has to happen once in a while, right? The fucking odds have to kick in every now and again.

This felt like one of those situations. But.............I am pretty fucking smooth at coming across as"Regular Guy". Fun bar guy, beer drinking straight-shooter guy, just a working stiff paying the bills and cutting loose every once in a while guy.

So I'm not sure. 

Analysis Paralysis. That's my disease. I am so confused about who I really am after over 50 years of Oscar-level performances, that I overthink every situation.

That's where whiskey comes in. At least up until last October. Now I am in no-man's land, alone with my thoughts and no anesthetic.

Tough deal. I'll figure it out. 2023 is coming along all right. Lost a few pounds, got the exercise thing going real regular-like. I even applied for some phoney baloney job today, just to see what happens. It's an experiment; kind of like jamming a square peg into a round hole just to create a result. Any result.

Maybe that conversation went ok today. Maybe I have two new friends.

When I got home I changed all our bank accounts and rehearsed an alibi with Carol.

I'm not a fucking fool, you know.

America In a Nutshell

 "The merest smell of profit would lead us to gut any beauty left, there was no sentimentality involved. We had been doing so since we got off the boat and nothing would stop us now."

From Wolf, by Jim Harrison

You Rascal You

Remember Louis Prima?

I mean, how could you not, right? Actually I am faking it. I knew his name and nothing else about him. Until this song came into my life - (I'll Be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You.

Louis Prima was born in 1910 and died in 1978. He was a singer, songwriter, bandleader, and trumpeter. Much like myself.

He had a pretty goddamn successful career. Made lots of money and had a dedicated following. And he was Italian!, which is magic in and of itself.

Italians know how to eat, how to have a good time, how to cook, how to drink - they are passionate and creative and expressive and emotional and short-tempered, they know how to party; they know how to live, baby.

Prima was married five times and had six children. He led big bands, he played in jazz combos, he played Dixieland and Swing. Over the course of his career he worked out of New York City, California, and New Orleans. Recorded a bunch of records. He also acted in a bunch of films. He was a busy dude and very popular.

I was reading a James Lee Burke book and he quoted a lyric from (I'll Be Glad When You're Dead) You Rascal You: "I'll be standing on the corner plastered, when they bring your body by". I was immediately intrigued. Burke did not mention the name of the song, but I found it.

There seems to be two versions of the song, but the sentiment is equally touching in both versions.

Stuff like: "I trust you in my home, you wouldn't leave my wife alone...................I fed you since last fall, then you got your ashes hauled........you know you done me wrong, you done stole my wife and gone...............I'm gonna kill you just for fun, the buzzards gonna have you when I'm done, I'll be glad when you dead, you rascal, you."

I am particularly fond of the "ashes hauled" line.

The man was talented, very successful, and he had a sense of humor. And yet most people today never heard of the guy. 

It is such a weird thing that we are imprisoned in limited cultural circumstances by virtue of the time period we live and die in. I mean, you can do the research and get turned on to stuff from the past, but most of us are too busy trying to find the best deal on a set of steel belted radials to find time for research.

Louis Prima made his mark, baby.

Twice?

 Tom Brady has retired twice.

I am 69 years old. I am still working.

I have truly fucked up my life.

Perfect

 "Poetry, at its best, is the language your soul would speak if you could teach your soul to speak."

Jim Harrison

January - A Reckoning

I exercised 19 days in January.

That's pretty damn good. A good start. Let me break it down.

The way I see it, I have 6 days a week available to me for exercise. Mondays don't count. On fucking Mondays I gotta roll out of the house by 10:45, which does not give me a lot of time for back squats and long-distance running. Every other day I either have off, or go in late enough to squeeze in some exercise.

I am never going to work out 6 days a week consistently; I am human - I deserve a break. So I consider 5 days a week to be the ultimate goal.

Using that logic, there were 22 days available to me to exercise in January. I used up 19 of them. That's pretty fucking consistent. I feel good about it.

BREAKING NEWS: On January 4th I weighed 198 pounds. Today - February 1st - I weigh 194 pounds.

I lost 4 pounds in January.

That is not huge but it's a damn good start.

My brain being what it is, I'm tempted to say that the first month is always easiest and I'll probably only lose another 1/2 ounce by December BUT.........I am fighting against that thought process in 2023.

All I am going to say is that I put in almost maximum effort in January and it paid off. I am going to put in maximum effort in February and see what it gets me. I did exercise today.

But now I have to get really serious. I accomplished nothing else in January, nothing of any major importance - like escaping this mind-numbing, soul-sucking job and gaining some measure of financial independence, for one.

I got a lot of work to do. A goal for February is to create a satisfying explosion in my life.

But for now I am happy with January results.

It's a damn good start.