Two Truths

 "You got to remember who you are so you don't become like the people around you. Each night you tell yourself over and over you got a special place inside you where you live. It's like a private cathedral nobody can touch. That's the secret to sanity.

This is so perfect; a perfect way to approach life, because in the final analysis it is just you. You are alone in your uniqueness and you are the only one who can make it work.

"But you can't tell anybody about your special place. Because once they know you got that private place in your head, they'll strap you down and kill your brain cells with electroshock."

This is the flip side - everybody wants what you got if it's good. And they especially do not want you to benefit from it. Gotta watch your back.

These quotes are from Pegasus Descending by James Lee Burke. Yeah, baby - Dave Robicheaux and Clete Purcel are back in my life.

And You Condemn Drinking?

 "The man had arrived at that stage of drunkenness where affection is felt for the universe."

Stephen Crane

Digging The Vibe

 I am currently unemployed.

I am diligently looking for work and I don't even mind. I WANT to work; I want to fatten up our bank account to protect this new life we are living. And loving.

I scored a job interview last week but was not offered the job. Some people can be so short-sighted.

All that being said, not working is a mighty fine feeling.

What Are You Thinking About?

 1) How often do you think about dying?

2) How many wakes have you been to in your lifetime?

Is it possible there's a disconnect in your thought process?

Don't Give Up

 "Don't give up, don't ever give up."

Jim Valvano said that in a speech he gave at the ESPYs on March 4,1993. He was dying of cancer. He died on April 28,1993. A month later. He was 47 years old.

Those words meant a lot coming from him. Because he backed them up. He fought, and he worked so hard to be positive in an impossible situation, and to inspire others to fight.

For the past 20 years of my life, I did not believe in that philosophy. After taking a bunch of wrong turns, and making a mountain of mistakes, I realized that life eventually gets the upper hand. Why try? Give up, accept your punishment, and get numb.

I gave up. I accepted the fact that I had pissed my life away, and seethed in a house I grew to hate. Because it mocked me as a loser.

And then there was an explosion in my life.

We sold our house. For a lot more money than it was worth. So much so that we bought a new place outright - no mortgage - and put a healthy chunk of change in the bank. We bought a place that we love. In a town that we love. And suddenly I am happy....................and inspired to do something with my life, instead of laying around moping.

Carol is 70 and I'm about to be. Who the hell ever thought our lives could get so good so late? I had given up on my life, but now I am driven to live it instead of just enduring it. 

I wake up happy every day. Every single day. I know I have been given a second chance. A bolt from the blue. It happened so suddenly and so unexpectedly. I am vibrant with awareness of this gift that I have been given, and I am determined to make the most of it. It is impossible for me to take it for granted - I feel so good and so alive that I never want to lose this feeling. I want to make it even better.

In that speech Jimmy V said there are three things you should do every day: Laugh, think, and allow your emotions to move you to tears. In other words, FEEL! 

I laugh every day now. I think - about where I was, what just happened, and where I am going. I don't get tears every day (although it's often, and they are tears of gratitude), but my emotions are raging through my heart and mind like floodwaters overflowing a riverbank. I am an emotional and passionate man, and those attributes are buzzing at peak levels right now. I fucking love it.

I gave up on my life. But someone, or something, somewhere said "No, no, no - you don't get off that easy. I give your life back to you in a new and improved state. Now let's see what you do with it."

I am grateful beyond belief.

I will not blow it this time.

Recalibrating Jars The Soul

My bookcases exude melancholia.

They know I am downloading books to my tablet. They sense it.

I have been here a month and have not added even one book to their shelves. Although they take pride in the pieces of my soul they display, they want to be vibrant, to move forward, to avoid stagnation.

As anyone would.

We are recalibrating our emotional relationship.

It will take time.

Please note: This post took some inspiration from a Tom Waits song titled The Piano Has Been Drinking.

Cadillac Jack

I am reading a book called Cadillac Jack. By Larry McMurtry.

If you came across a book called Cadillac Jack, could you pass it by? If so, I worry about the state of your curiosity. Your appreciation of the intriguing.

It has characters like Sir Crisp Crip. Many characters have names like that. Reminds me of the colorful characters Lawrence Sanders filled his books with.

I am digging Cadillac Jack.

And in a related story:

My two, tall, black, beautiful bookcases now stand in mute testimony to my greatest obsession - books.

In the other house, the bookcases were upstairs in my private lair where nobody ever saw them. I would admire them from time to time because they hold a special magic for me, but - other than that - they went unnoticed.

In our new home they are again in my private lair, but my private lair is on the first floor (everything is on the first floor because there is no second floor) and they stand out magnificently. You cannot miss them. You walk to the end the hall, look to your right and there they are - filling the wall opposite the door - filling your vision.

I love the way they look here. Dramatic. Impressive. Bearing witness to a lifetime of reading, dramatically thinned out.

I got rid of literally hundreds of books. Hundreds! As I did, I entertained the idea of inviting Keith and Craig over to go through them, but you know how it goes.

"Oh my God! We are moving in __ days and we have so much packing, and thinning out left to do, we are under the gun, we gotta get this done NOW, just get rid of this shit!"

So my books went into boxes (many, many boxes), and the boxes went to the swap shop at the dump, and to Goodwill.

Frankly I am amused to think of the people sifting through my books. I have mostly eclectic tastes. Yes, I read plenty of "normal" books, but I also read a helluva lot of quirky stuff. Not mainstream. That is the benefit of voracious reading - you can fill up on quirky and still have time to rest and entertain the brain with run of the mill. With the caveat that all of it must be well written.

I don't think people who obtain books from swap shops and Goodwill are discerning. I imagine them picking up one of my books and thinking "What the hell is this?"

I like the fact that all these books, that were in my hands and devoured by me, now belong to other people. Strangers. People I will never meet and be able to discuss these books with. Fractional pieces of my life live on independent of me and, eventually, beyond my lifespan.

Pretty cool.

So contentedly I read Cadillac Jack, and secretly swell with pride anytime another family member or friend gets to admire my precious bookcases.

It's good to make an impression.