- Dołączono
- 4 Lip 2014
B-b-b-but...shouldn't the smartest person on the board be able to take down a simple thread? Don't let your charisma slip. You're disappointing me TJ...
🐮 Lolcow Timothy "TJ" Church / Cowlick - Failed Literotica Writer &/or Null's Best Friend
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🔎 Please read my article, How to Dox Anyone: A Liz Fong-Jones Story. (Xitter), (Substack).
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- Dołączono
- 18 Wrz 2014
As well as I can expect, considering some have said if I simply asked nicely, it would've been gone by now, while others have said simultaneously it will never go down... Thinking many of you agree there isn't &/or never was a reason to have it here, but haven't the first clue how to rid of it.
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
Hi church, just wanted to let you know you make an excellent easter egg for my video game.
- Dołączono
- 10 Kwi 2013
Shouldn't this go in the creepypasta thread?Hi church, just wanted to let you know you make an excellent easter egg for my video game.
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- 20 Cze 2014
Teej, no one was talking about you. No one cared about you. Which, is, a, travesty!! But no one gave a shit until you revived a two month old thread. Clearly a brilliant man such as yourself should recognize that you brought this on yourself.
You could have made this thread disappear. But it's too late now. It is never going away. Your first post here was a lie. Then you proceeded to be an egotistical asshole to everyone. Including those who were legitimately trying to help you.
So, your only option now is to change your online handle. But even then, you will be found and associated with this thread. So, congrats on screwing the pooch.
You could have made this thread disappear. But it's too late now. It is never going away. Your first post here was a lie. Then you proceeded to be an egotistical asshole to everyone. Including those who were legitimately trying to help you.
So, your only option now is to change your online handle. But even then, you will be found and associated with this thread. So, congrats on screwing the pooch.
- Dołączono
- 10 Paź 2014
Someone should re-edit this video to have TJ's face and with '&/or' raining down the screen.
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- 3 Lut 2013
José Mourinho
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kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
14 minutes ago - Cuddlebug:
I also can't wait for mods like adjusting the water levels- 14 minutes ago - Cuddlebug:
I remember I spent hours in GTA4 with the water raised really high - 13 minutes ago - Cuddlebug:
- 8 minutes ago - KatsuKitty:
am i the only one to think it'd be funny if someone changed the face on the GTA statue of liberty to be tjchurch's - 7 minutes ago - Cuddlebug:
@ KatsuKitty, that'd be pretty funny actually
- 3 minutes ago - Alan Pardew:
- Doing it now
- Dołączono
- 30 Wrz 2014
Mr. Thomas Jefferson Church, have you ever considered to take up teaching?
Why not share some of your wisdom with others?
- Dołączono
- 10 Paź 2014
Truly the most mega of minds &/or intelligence.
That's not &/or is my bag baby!
(Sunday night boredom is getting the better of me)
That's not &/or is my bag baby!
(Sunday night boredom is getting the better of me)
Ostatnio edytowane przez moderatora:
- Dołączono
- 12 Lip 2014
Mr. T. J. Church has made his blog, BlogEnfarcement, private, thereby ensuring that it will not gain any new readership apart from his Bible-thumper aunt and his presumed half-sister. One could probably start whole forum threads questioning the logic of lolcows in distancing themselves from their only readership base (See Mr. Christian Weston Chandler and his comics), but because nothing is truly gone forever nor private on the interwebs, I have taken the liberty of providing you with his distributed samples of intellectual insight that we, as his diligent followers, may peruse &/or contemplate for our own betterment. Still, if lolcows truly wished to distance themselves from their researchers, why would they choose to do so by sabotaging their own turf rather than simply un-involving themselves with where that research takes place?
In conclusion, any writer must remain productive, and one cannot observe a subject without inadvertently having an influence upon it in some manner.
2013.9.8
Hey, everyone. So, welcome to my first free blog… OK; So technically, it’s not my first free blog. I posted blogs for free at Xanga for years (at 3 different URLS, thanks to some still-unidentified hackers). But when I tried to post there at the end of last month, the site kept saying “Xanga 2.0″ was “coming”. (Like “Sharknado”, or something!) Finally, it’s here… But it appears part of the change is it will cost me to post anything new there. As I’m fond of saying, “That’s NGH: Not Gonna Happen”. So I followed some family to WordPress.
Anyhow, here’s a somewhat-edited version of the blog I originally meant to post there at the end of last month…
“Space For Rent”
If you’re one of my regular readers (which/who I’m not even sure I have), don’t worry; That title is not meant to make you think I’m planning to stop writing this blog. If I had planned to sell my blog-space, I wouldn’t know how to do it so that I could make any money off of it. (Not even to sublet it to Richard Dreyfuss, like in “The Goodbye Girl”! My sister is the most-likely to enjoy that reference!)
So, since I’m not planning to do that, what is the “space” I refer to in the title that is “for rent”? The one I’m occupying now… If you wanna “get tech”. When I originally wrote that title, I was sitting in the local Mall, near the Food Court. Since then, there have been several changes of location, day, time, & everything I’m wearing.
Those aren’t the only changes, however. There’s also been a change in my “employment status” (as they call it on forms at several of my doctors’ offices). For years, if anyone (usually doctors) asked me if I worked/had a job, I’d say “No”, & that was 125% true. Now, if anyone asks (perhaps that psychiatrist I’m seeing semi-regularly), I’ll say “Yes”. When they ask me what it is, I’ll say I’m a “space-filler”. I know that has yet to bring me a paycheck, & I’m not expecting one. But think of it this way: Last month, I walked through a huge bunch of dirt on my way from here to pay the cable bill. If I did that next month, I’d literally run into an auto-parts store. Sounds like a big deal to me!
On to “current events”:
Truth is I fill about the same space now as I did when I wrote all of that a-week-or-two ago. I got a haircut today, but it was all (clearly) on my head, so a lot of it took up the exact same space. I also think I got a bit taller lately, but if you ask me (I know you didn’t), I think I shrunk over the last few years, so it adds up to “breaking even”. (That’s sort of a “favorite phrase” for me; Long story.)
Well, I guess that’s really all I have to write this time. I know I thought of a ton more over the past few weeks. (Don’t be surprised if I post yet another blog within a week of now!) But I think that covers “the basics”.
Hey, everyone. So, welcome to my first free blog… OK; So technically, it’s not my first free blog. I posted blogs for free at Xanga for years (at 3 different URLS, thanks to some still-unidentified hackers). But when I tried to post there at the end of last month, the site kept saying “Xanga 2.0″ was “coming”. (Like “Sharknado”, or something!) Finally, it’s here… But it appears part of the change is it will cost me to post anything new there. As I’m fond of saying, “That’s NGH: Not Gonna Happen”. So I followed some family to WordPress.
Anyhow, here’s a somewhat-edited version of the blog I originally meant to post there at the end of last month…
“Space For Rent”
If you’re one of my regular readers (which/who I’m not even sure I have), don’t worry; That title is not meant to make you think I’m planning to stop writing this blog. If I had planned to sell my blog-space, I wouldn’t know how to do it so that I could make any money off of it. (Not even to sublet it to Richard Dreyfuss, like in “The Goodbye Girl”! My sister is the most-likely to enjoy that reference!)
So, since I’m not planning to do that, what is the “space” I refer to in the title that is “for rent”? The one I’m occupying now… If you wanna “get tech”. When I originally wrote that title, I was sitting in the local Mall, near the Food Court. Since then, there have been several changes of location, day, time, & everything I’m wearing.
Those aren’t the only changes, however. There’s also been a change in my “employment status” (as they call it on forms at several of my doctors’ offices). For years, if anyone (usually doctors) asked me if I worked/had a job, I’d say “No”, & that was 125% true. Now, if anyone asks (perhaps that psychiatrist I’m seeing semi-regularly), I’ll say “Yes”. When they ask me what it is, I’ll say I’m a “space-filler”. I know that has yet to bring me a paycheck, & I’m not expecting one. But think of it this way: Last month, I walked through a huge bunch of dirt on my way from here to pay the cable bill. If I did that next month, I’d literally run into an auto-parts store. Sounds like a big deal to me!
On to “current events”:
Truth is I fill about the same space now as I did when I wrote all of that a-week-or-two ago. I got a haircut today, but it was all (clearly) on my head, so a lot of it took up the exact same space. I also think I got a bit taller lately, but if you ask me (I know you didn’t), I think I shrunk over the last few years, so it adds up to “breaking even”. (That’s sort of a “favorite phrase” for me; Long story.)
Well, I guess that’s really all I have to write this time. I know I thought of a ton more over the past few weeks. (Don’t be surprised if I post yet another blog within a week of now!) But I think that covers “the basics”.
2013.9.13
With my last blog ending in (semi-) current events, let me start this one in a similar way. About 20 hours ago, I was sitting on my bed, watching the TNT series “Perception”. For any unaware, it stars Eric McCormack (the male half of “Will & Grace”) & Rachael Leigh Cook, most-famous to people (at least those my age) for “She’s All That”. (I actually “follow” her on Twitter, & she occasionally posts old pictures of that cast.)
About-as-recently, I had an appointment with my endocrinologist yesterday morning…
Before I cover that, excuse me for this related note. In my closet right now is a green T-shirt I bought that says, “Notice: Whatever you’re doing, saying, or thinking, I’m not interested”. I’ve never worn it, & it actually still has tags & things on it. I thought about wearing it yesterday, but chose not to, since I planned to ask her 2 questions, which I thought she wouldn’t answer honestly if she read the shirt. Now, I never asked the questions, & therefore, SO wish I had worn the shirt.
Since I bet you’re curious, one question was how I could keep my blood-sugar numbers under control while gaining weight. (My numbers fly to the point I consider FAA contact, but I agree with the office I’ve lost FAR too much weight!!) The other was how she & my former endocrinologists could look at me, sitting in their offices, telling me how to care for my Diabetes, knowing I truly never had it?! (If you’re new to my blogs, know I was diagnosed over a dozen years ago, but don’t recall a single second including this one I actually believe I have/had it.)
Back to “Perception”, though. I’ve seen Season 1 on DVD at Target several times, & considered buying it. When I do so, another 2 questions hit me. One is why the box for this drama mentions Eric’s Emmy win for the sitcom “Will & Grace”? The other is why to call it “Perception”?
It is the second question I think about often. I’ve read the saying about “perception” & “reality”. In 90% of the episodes, they are investigating at least 1 murder, of a person who certainly won’t be at work next week.
On the side, though, I think about the all-lower-case word “perception” & the “reality” I can’t watch on Bravo, E!, TLC, or VH1. This is partly because Eric plays a college professor of neuroscience. (I’ve been diagnosed with a neuro- issue literally as long as I can remember, & never denied it.) I also wonder about what I see as reality, what my doctors see that way, what my family sees that way, & how much of each is correct.
With my last blog ending in (semi-) current events, let me start this one in a similar way. About 20 hours ago, I was sitting on my bed, watching the TNT series “Perception”. For any unaware, it stars Eric McCormack (the male half of “Will & Grace”) & Rachael Leigh Cook, most-famous to people (at least those my age) for “She’s All That”. (I actually “follow” her on Twitter, & she occasionally posts old pictures of that cast.)
About-as-recently, I had an appointment with my endocrinologist yesterday morning…
Before I cover that, excuse me for this related note. In my closet right now is a green T-shirt I bought that says, “Notice: Whatever you’re doing, saying, or thinking, I’m not interested”. I’ve never worn it, & it actually still has tags & things on it. I thought about wearing it yesterday, but chose not to, since I planned to ask her 2 questions, which I thought she wouldn’t answer honestly if she read the shirt. Now, I never asked the questions, & therefore, SO wish I had worn the shirt.
Since I bet you’re curious, one question was how I could keep my blood-sugar numbers under control while gaining weight. (My numbers fly to the point I consider FAA contact, but I agree with the office I’ve lost FAR too much weight!!) The other was how she & my former endocrinologists could look at me, sitting in their offices, telling me how to care for my Diabetes, knowing I truly never had it?! (If you’re new to my blogs, know I was diagnosed over a dozen years ago, but don’t recall a single second including this one I actually believe I have/had it.)
Back to “Perception”, though. I’ve seen Season 1 on DVD at Target several times, & considered buying it. When I do so, another 2 questions hit me. One is why the box for this drama mentions Eric’s Emmy win for the sitcom “Will & Grace”? The other is why to call it “Perception”?
It is the second question I think about often. I’ve read the saying about “perception” & “reality”. In 90% of the episodes, they are investigating at least 1 murder, of a person who certainly won’t be at work next week.
On the side, though, I think about the all-lower-case word “perception” & the “reality” I can’t watch on Bravo, E!, TLC, or VH1. This is partly because Eric plays a college professor of neuroscience. (I’ve been diagnosed with a neuro- issue literally as long as I can remember, & never denied it.) I also wonder about what I see as reality, what my doctors see that way, what my family sees that way, & how much of each is correct.
2013.9.21
Hey, everyone! I’m back again! (A while back, on my old blog, I set-out an aim for myself to do 1 a week. That is what I am aiming for again here.)
Another thing I did a lot on my old blog I am repeating here is “stealing” titles. For anyone who may not know, my title this time comes from a song by The Who. (Or, as my Dad often called it when I was growing up, “Who-music”.) I actually can’t tell you the last time I listened to any “Who-music”, largely because it’s near the end of my largely-alphabetized CD collection, & therefore VERY hard to get to.
The reason I chose this title is those are my two best hopes to communicate with anyone right now. I finally did get my hearing aid the other day, but the audiologist had VERY specific instructions about when I should/shouldn’t wear it. Mom & I (long story short) kinda broke those the day of the appointment, so I’m kinda wondering where to go from there, how, etc.
Another thing that continues is my ongoing effort to get a computer. Actually, perhaps that should be “effortS”. See, a key part of this is timing. I am simultaneously wanting to get a new computer & get entirely rid of any connections to my “legal guardian(s)”.
-[The explanation for the quotes is a long story... The explanation for the "(s)" is not so much of one. If I call the office of Mr. Letson, who I was first told was my guardian, I am asked if I wish to talk to him, schedule an appointment with him, etc. If I E-mail him (the address is on his business card), however, I will pass about 50 birthdays before I "hear" from him again. Meanwhile, E-mail another man in the same office, & he fully answers all questions within a day. Ironically, this is one of the main reasons I wish to get rid of my connections to all of them.]
I was told long ago (during 1 of maybe 5 times I’ve actually spoken to Mr. Letson) the steps that needed to be taken for me to get a computer (since he/his office has control of my financial accounts right now). I was never told how I might be able to do it if I remove any & all “guardians”, but I’m betting that accomplishment would involve more of me & much less of my “representatives” (& all that jazz), & yet still (in some semi-ironic way) be more difficult for me. Therefore, if any of them actually find my blog (got a weird paranoia-like feeling they Google me, etc. once in a while), take this as a warning that getting my new/next computer will be THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO FOR ME!!!
Anyhow, as I alluded to early on, this blog was mainly set to hit the one-a-week aim, & mention the new hearing aid. I have no medical appointments this upcoming week, so I may skip blogging ’til October.
Hey, everyone! I’m back again! (A while back, on my old blog, I set-out an aim for myself to do 1 a week. That is what I am aiming for again here.)
Another thing I did a lot on my old blog I am repeating here is “stealing” titles. For anyone who may not know, my title this time comes from a song by The Who. (Or, as my Dad often called it when I was growing up, “Who-music”.) I actually can’t tell you the last time I listened to any “Who-music”, largely because it’s near the end of my largely-alphabetized CD collection, & therefore VERY hard to get to.
The reason I chose this title is those are my two best hopes to communicate with anyone right now. I finally did get my hearing aid the other day, but the audiologist had VERY specific instructions about when I should/shouldn’t wear it. Mom & I (long story short) kinda broke those the day of the appointment, so I’m kinda wondering where to go from there, how, etc.
Another thing that continues is my ongoing effort to get a computer. Actually, perhaps that should be “effortS”. See, a key part of this is timing. I am simultaneously wanting to get a new computer & get entirely rid of any connections to my “legal guardian(s)”.
-[The explanation for the quotes is a long story... The explanation for the "(s)" is not so much of one. If I call the office of Mr. Letson, who I was first told was my guardian, I am asked if I wish to talk to him, schedule an appointment with him, etc. If I E-mail him (the address is on his business card), however, I will pass about 50 birthdays before I "hear" from him again. Meanwhile, E-mail another man in the same office, & he fully answers all questions within a day. Ironically, this is one of the main reasons I wish to get rid of my connections to all of them.]
I was told long ago (during 1 of maybe 5 times I’ve actually spoken to Mr. Letson) the steps that needed to be taken for me to get a computer (since he/his office has control of my financial accounts right now). I was never told how I might be able to do it if I remove any & all “guardians”, but I’m betting that accomplishment would involve more of me & much less of my “representatives” (& all that jazz), & yet still (in some semi-ironic way) be more difficult for me. Therefore, if any of them actually find my blog (got a weird paranoia-like feeling they Google me, etc. once in a while), take this as a warning that getting my new/next computer will be THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO FOR ME!!!
Anyhow, as I alluded to early on, this blog was mainly set to hit the one-a-week aim, & mention the new hearing aid. I have no medical appointments this upcoming week, so I may skip blogging ’til October.
2013.09.26
Hey, everybody! Welcome to my first blog of the official new Fall TV season. (Well, sort of; I know some shows don’t premiere until next week. The CW Network is delaying some premieres until late next month, I think, & I think “Nikita” will return sometime after Thanksgiving! Meanwhile, USA Network seems to be premiering a new season of a show once every 6 months at least.)
As I watch the premieres this week (both of brand-new shows like “The Crazy Ones” & starts of new seasons of faves like “Big Bang” or “NCIS: Los Angeles”), I am (semi-ironically) thinking about endings. For one thing, some shows had cliffhanger endings that made it seem the new season would continue on the same fictional day as the last one ended (“NCISLA”), whereas others just leave you with questions some fans want answered. [While I watched every episode of "Burn Notice", I never considered myself a "shipper". I don't really care that "Michael" & "Fiona" ended-up in the same building, nor do I care if Maggie Lawson (AKA "Juliet") ever comes back to "Psych".]
That makes me think more about my own endings… And yes, I do mean that to be plural! For one thing, I am not anywhere near suicidal. (I don’t believe I ever will be again; As I’ve told many counselors/psychiatrists, “When I get depressed, I get lazy, & won’t do anything at all.”) For one, I don’t think it will bother my sister to tell you my older nephew is celebrating a birthday this coming weekend. I have every intention of making the party (gift bought, but unwrapped & card yet to be signed), but for many years, I have wondered if you’re supposed to be celebrating the year you’re ending or the one you’re starting. (Doesn’t help that my birthday is practically smack-dab in the middle of the last month of the year!)
Also, I am thinking about when my play is getting performed. For any unaware, I don’t mean one I am acting in. I made a decision a few Winters back I was done being on the stage. This is one I wrote… At least, as much as it’s been written. I’ve “lettered-out” the music for the songs in the first act (have the notes by letter in order, but not staffed), & have yet to even do that much for Act Two. Even so, I have already developed a list of, say, a half-dozen people I would happily have in it or working on it with me, as well as at least 3 people I may try to get some form of restraining order on, keeping them “X-number-of” feet/yards away from the show.
I (with, I think, perhaps, some help from a relative) am also trying to get my “guardians” to get moving on this computer-buying thing. Once I get my own computer again, I will continue a few stories I started writing “X-number-of” years back. (Someone tell me if you know how to contact Random House or one of the big, non-“vanity” publishers about publishing your stuff so you get paid, & maybe don’t have to pay them.) Also, then (when that’s done), I will get to the ending I really want… The end of my relationship with the “guardians”!!! (I’ve taken to thinking of them as “The Law-Evading Lawyers”, & have even considered prosecuting him/them for stealing from my accounts.)
Well, for now, that should cover it, & will be the end of my blogs for this month.
Hey, everybody! Welcome to my first blog of the official new Fall TV season. (Well, sort of; I know some shows don’t premiere until next week. The CW Network is delaying some premieres until late next month, I think, & I think “Nikita” will return sometime after Thanksgiving! Meanwhile, USA Network seems to be premiering a new season of a show once every 6 months at least.)
As I watch the premieres this week (both of brand-new shows like “The Crazy Ones” & starts of new seasons of faves like “Big Bang” or “NCIS: Los Angeles”), I am (semi-ironically) thinking about endings. For one thing, some shows had cliffhanger endings that made it seem the new season would continue on the same fictional day as the last one ended (“NCISLA”), whereas others just leave you with questions some fans want answered. [While I watched every episode of "Burn Notice", I never considered myself a "shipper". I don't really care that "Michael" & "Fiona" ended-up in the same building, nor do I care if Maggie Lawson (AKA "Juliet") ever comes back to "Psych".]
That makes me think more about my own endings… And yes, I do mean that to be plural! For one thing, I am not anywhere near suicidal. (I don’t believe I ever will be again; As I’ve told many counselors/psychiatrists, “When I get depressed, I get lazy, & won’t do anything at all.”) For one, I don’t think it will bother my sister to tell you my older nephew is celebrating a birthday this coming weekend. I have every intention of making the party (gift bought, but unwrapped & card yet to be signed), but for many years, I have wondered if you’re supposed to be celebrating the year you’re ending or the one you’re starting. (Doesn’t help that my birthday is practically smack-dab in the middle of the last month of the year!)
Also, I am thinking about when my play is getting performed. For any unaware, I don’t mean one I am acting in. I made a decision a few Winters back I was done being on the stage. This is one I wrote… At least, as much as it’s been written. I’ve “lettered-out” the music for the songs in the first act (have the notes by letter in order, but not staffed), & have yet to even do that much for Act Two. Even so, I have already developed a list of, say, a half-dozen people I would happily have in it or working on it with me, as well as at least 3 people I may try to get some form of restraining order on, keeping them “X-number-of” feet/yards away from the show.
I (with, I think, perhaps, some help from a relative) am also trying to get my “guardians” to get moving on this computer-buying thing. Once I get my own computer again, I will continue a few stories I started writing “X-number-of” years back. (Someone tell me if you know how to contact Random House or one of the big, non-“vanity” publishers about publishing your stuff so you get paid, & maybe don’t have to pay them.) Also, then (when that’s done), I will get to the ending I really want… The end of my relationship with the “guardians”!!! (I’ve taken to thinking of them as “The Law-Evading Lawyers”, & have even considered prosecuting him/them for stealing from my accounts.)
Well, for now, that should cover it, & will be the end of my blogs for this month.
2013.09.28
I know that in the blog I wrote a few days ago, I said it would probably end my blogs for the month, which I also know has not changed. (Happy Birthday to my nephew!) However, if you’re new to my blogs (never read me when I was at Xanga), you should know I “live Improv” beyond the point I get sick of sayin’ it, so you can’t really trust anything I say regarding the future.
One thing I can almost-guarantee nobody else has read is a piece I wrote years ago called, “What Gets Me Is…”. I originally planned it to be a series, perhaps published/printed in either the local Tribune or the school paper. However, I believe I only ever wrote the first one, & I have the only printed copies of that in a folder in my bedroom closet.
Even so, recently, I thought of a few new subjects I want to cover in that sort of piece. Therefore, I now present to you…
“What Gets Me Is…”, Version 2.0 – Issue 1
Part 1: “The Concentration”
Let me start by getting a few things out of the way. When I write about “the concentration”, I am not referring to “concentration camps”, or anything regarding the Nazis or the Holocaust. I also am not referring to Dr. Phil & the millions of others out there who seem to focus on males being the physical/sexual abusers of their girlfriends/wives.
Hypothetical Situation That Really Happened #1: A few days ago, I was walking around a store at the local Mall “complex”. At the time, I was a legal adult citizen of this state with legally-achieved “disposable” income. Walking through this store, I noticed a bunch of clothes hanging. Above them was a sign, saying the store was having a sale with big discounts on their “maternity” clothing.
In my entire life, I can guarantee you I have had no need for “maternity” clothes. (Perhaps my sister… But with her birthday over a month ago, & Christmas a few months ahead, that sale would have done me no good this month.) I also don’t frankly care one bit about wearing clothes to give me a certain “look” or do anything else to attract any sort of potential romantic relationship.
All that being said, I spend a lot of time at the Mall stores & other local shopping areas. Looking at stores specifically based around maternity (saw one at this same Mall closing yesterday) & others based around either women or guys whose lives seem to hover around attempting to attract these women, I want to walk up to a Customer Service desk, & quote “Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back”, asking, “When’s gonna be my time?!”
Part 2: “When Trash Is Trash”
The thing I remember I was going to do when I originally began this series years ago is mainly look at not everything that “gets me”, but largely popular ideas & phrases & the like. With that original intent in mind, I have the one for this “Issue”: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.
Now I’m not about to lie; I get the basic idea of that, & it could be largely true. For instance, my Mom loves both dropping things off at the local Goodwill stores, & buying things from these same stores. (Especially around times like now, when she is doing a play locally, & needs something for her costume.) Also, within walking distance of where I type this is an old store where, at least once a month, they have sales put on by the Easter Seals Society, where the place is filled with things (mostly, I think, picked-up by people given that task) no longer needed by the original owner that others can now purchase and use. (This is where my Mom gets a ton of toys & things for when my nephews stop by.)
But here’s the “thing” for me… I am not against the idea of someone else being able to use something I have later (though they often actually can’t, as I hold onto it, still having use for it myself). Also, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention the large number of CDs & DVDs I have I bought at Buybacks (originally called CD Warehouse) that had all been owned by someone else previously.
Even so, living where I do, I see two sides of this. One is the fake fireplace in the lobby. There, people place all sorts of food, drink, & clothes, available for nothing on a “first come, first serve” basis. However, when I make my regular walking trips to the local Mall, I am sure to pass at least 1 (if not 2) giant, blue Dumpsters. At least once a week, Mom or I has a garbage bag to take to one of them, filled with things (mainly pop cans, in my case) that we once had obvious uses for, but haven’t needed now, in some cases for days. If indeed “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”, how have I lived here 6 years now, & never seen a single person taking anything out of one of those Dumpsters?!
OK… Think that’s all I wanted to write for this one. (Actually, I know I had some more ideas, but they’re just not “coming down the pike” at the moment.)
I know that in the blog I wrote a few days ago, I said it would probably end my blogs for the month, which I also know has not changed. (Happy Birthday to my nephew!) However, if you’re new to my blogs (never read me when I was at Xanga), you should know I “live Improv” beyond the point I get sick of sayin’ it, so you can’t really trust anything I say regarding the future.
One thing I can almost-guarantee nobody else has read is a piece I wrote years ago called, “What Gets Me Is…”. I originally planned it to be a series, perhaps published/printed in either the local Tribune or the school paper. However, I believe I only ever wrote the first one, & I have the only printed copies of that in a folder in my bedroom closet.
Even so, recently, I thought of a few new subjects I want to cover in that sort of piece. Therefore, I now present to you…
“What Gets Me Is…”, Version 2.0 – Issue 1
Part 1: “The Concentration”
Let me start by getting a few things out of the way. When I write about “the concentration”, I am not referring to “concentration camps”, or anything regarding the Nazis or the Holocaust. I also am not referring to Dr. Phil & the millions of others out there who seem to focus on males being the physical/sexual abusers of their girlfriends/wives.
Hypothetical Situation That Really Happened #1: A few days ago, I was walking around a store at the local Mall “complex”. At the time, I was a legal adult citizen of this state with legally-achieved “disposable” income. Walking through this store, I noticed a bunch of clothes hanging. Above them was a sign, saying the store was having a sale with big discounts on their “maternity” clothing.
In my entire life, I can guarantee you I have had no need for “maternity” clothes. (Perhaps my sister… But with her birthday over a month ago, & Christmas a few months ahead, that sale would have done me no good this month.) I also don’t frankly care one bit about wearing clothes to give me a certain “look” or do anything else to attract any sort of potential romantic relationship.
All that being said, I spend a lot of time at the Mall stores & other local shopping areas. Looking at stores specifically based around maternity (saw one at this same Mall closing yesterday) & others based around either women or guys whose lives seem to hover around attempting to attract these women, I want to walk up to a Customer Service desk, & quote “Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back”, asking, “When’s gonna be my time?!”
Part 2: “When Trash Is Trash”
The thing I remember I was going to do when I originally began this series years ago is mainly look at not everything that “gets me”, but largely popular ideas & phrases & the like. With that original intent in mind, I have the one for this “Issue”: “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”.
Now I’m not about to lie; I get the basic idea of that, & it could be largely true. For instance, my Mom loves both dropping things off at the local Goodwill stores, & buying things from these same stores. (Especially around times like now, when she is doing a play locally, & needs something for her costume.) Also, within walking distance of where I type this is an old store where, at least once a month, they have sales put on by the Easter Seals Society, where the place is filled with things (mostly, I think, picked-up by people given that task) no longer needed by the original owner that others can now purchase and use. (This is where my Mom gets a ton of toys & things for when my nephews stop by.)
But here’s the “thing” for me… I am not against the idea of someone else being able to use something I have later (though they often actually can’t, as I hold onto it, still having use for it myself). Also, I’d be lying if I didn’t mention the large number of CDs & DVDs I have I bought at Buybacks (originally called CD Warehouse) that had all been owned by someone else previously.
Even so, living where I do, I see two sides of this. One is the fake fireplace in the lobby. There, people place all sorts of food, drink, & clothes, available for nothing on a “first come, first serve” basis. However, when I make my regular walking trips to the local Mall, I am sure to pass at least 1 (if not 2) giant, blue Dumpsters. At least once a week, Mom or I has a garbage bag to take to one of them, filled with things (mainly pop cans, in my case) that we once had obvious uses for, but haven’t needed now, in some cases for days. If indeed “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure”, how have I lived here 6 years now, & never seen a single person taking anything out of one of those Dumpsters?!
OK… Think that’s all I wanted to write for this one. (Actually, I know I had some more ideas, but they’re just not “coming down the pike” at the moment.)
2013.10.11
Before you contact me in an attempt to answer that question for me (via E-mail, Twitter, or a blog “Comment”), know this much: I already know the answer as it pertains to me specifically. I have said for literally years (to myself & a bunch of others) that “I live in Butt-Crap, Ohio”. [It always reminds me of the years when my sister, my only other sibling, was going to college in Kentucky, & used to say the school was located "in (or near) BFE." At the time, I considered that a guarantee she would eventually meet & marry someone, perhaps largely because they & their family allowed her the ability to get out of the areas of both her college & where we grew up. Now, she is indeed married with her third child on the way, but she lives in the house I spent my first 2 decades in! I admit this is one of the few areas where I find her to be even somewhat "unpredictable".]
Anyway, as I said, I have spent 90% of my life in the same county of the same state, & therefore, obviously the same country. However, that still leaves me to wonder where I am.
For one thing, like many, I had dreams of different potential future occupations when I was growing up. For a few years, I thought of myself as being in a band, the other members of which had the dumbest names. (I prefer to not even think about it all anymore, though I remain sure these details will be publicized by my sister on her Twitter account, if not TV, should I ever become the least bit successful.) I also thought for a stretch that I would become a famous pitcher for the Dodgers, largely based on the “un-hit-ability” of a pitch I believed I created, which I know I then named after myself, but (as far as I know) can myself no longer throw. (For all I know, CC Sabathia, a man I once watched pitch for a local team who now does so for the world-famous Yankees, may in fact have thrown that very same pitch in a game this week, & been paid a ton of money for it!) For at least the past decade, I have been planning on a writing career, one that seems feasible due to my talent in the area & my actual ability to do so from just about anywhere I go… However, as my own Twitter profile admits, I have been “Printed several times, (but) never paid for it”, leaving that in what I see as an unidentifiable area between the pre-plan & actual undertaking.
Here’s another thing I think I know, however; Whether you are a pitcher like Mr. Sabathia; A singer-songwriter, like Dave Grohl (Grammy-winning member of once Nirvana & now the Foo Fighters, & born in the same hospital as my sister & myself); A movie star (Dad contended for a long time that “Cleveland’s own” Halle Berry, since that contention an Oscar-winner, will some day be interested in him); Or anything else, a main aim is either to get out of your home area or to make it famous for better than it currently is. I grew up watching TV (which is not to say that I wasn’t doing so 2 hours ago), & got sick of “Ohio” repeatedly & literally serving as a punchline. More-specifically, I am (as I said) from the same area as a Grammy-winner (have literally walked the streets he lived on), & a starter in a recent Super Bowl (Mario Manningham went to the same high school as both my parents), but also the same area as Maurice Clarett (same school as Manningham) & the “Joke Jims”. (I think Dad was on a first-name basis with Tressel, & I myself got a signed “form letter” from then-Senator Traficant.)
Even so, I now find myself occupying the same sort of “undefinable area” career-wise as my long-dreamt-of writing career. I was waiting in the hospital to get some bloodwork done earlier this week, which was ordered by a doctor I was seeing the next day (I also enjoy I can write relatively well regardless of my health-level), when I read a review of a play being performed locally. The review was accompanied by a picture including someone I have considered a close friend for years, & one paragraph in particular praised her work in the show. Sounds great; Right? Yeah. I sent her a message on Twitter, telling her, “Congrats!”… And almost-immediately got depressed…
Don’t get me wrong; To this very second, I remain happy for my friend. However, what bothers me is simply a law of Physics. (Admittedly, I know little more than what I’ve seen on “The Big Bang Theory”.) For years, I’ve heard people say, “What goes up must come down,” & I’ll never doubt it. However, what I see as just-as-obvious & never spoken is what happens previously in most of those cases (whether in actuality or purely hypothetical): “In order to go up, you gotta start down.”
For instance, I’ve spent a ton of time in Ohio hospitals, everything from the local hospital (which seems to have a staffing issue a month) to what I often call “the world-famous Cleveland Clinic”. (Actually had a kidney operated on there a few years back!) Every time I am in the ER, located on the Ground Floor, I know being admitted means going up in an elevator. Likewise, when I am released, I know which ever relative picks me up (I am the only unlicensed member of my “family of four”), I know getting to their vehicle means we ride the same car right back down. (It’s this I think of when people seem depressed as they speak about getting “the shaft” from their jobs.) This leaves me to wonder why many people, who I’m sure (though not as often) have all had the same hospital experiences as me, don’t remember, recall, & ponder both.
For over a decade, I have spent time walking through the local streets. I spend much of this time walking either to or from the local Mall &/or movie theaters. More often than I need think about, I spend much of that time imagining different portions of articles that will eventually be written about me when a local theatre performs a show I, in fact, wrote with the specific intention of premiering it at that same theatre, while in a cast of another show being performed there. I imagine it being written by a man I have admittedly little respect for (him or his opinions on many of the arts), largely because we have a history of online contact regarding articles he has written over the years & things he said in them, etc.
However, I often also consider what might be written later (both about me & the area I come from) when this same script gets performed outside the state of Ohio. In both cases, I have supposed/dreamt/expected something will be said about me “surprisingly emerging from small-town Ohio”, or perhaps “coming out of the same area that brought the country Maurice Clarett & Jim Traficant,” etc…
Therefore, I find myself mentally, &/or often emotionally, split: If this area is best-known for some of the aforementioned names & their stories, it may indeed be quite a surprise when the multi-genre, multi-platform talent I believe myself to eventually become is “offsprung” from it. However, if we are known more for Catherine Bach (AKA the original “Daisy Duke” on “Dukes of Hazzard”) & Austin Pendleton (my Mom has repeatedly worked on a stage named for his mother, and they seem to invite him back for a “celebration” of his family every year, though I mainly know him for “The Muppet Movie” & 1 episode of “The Cosby Show”), then the national audience will never possibly see my work as a rise from that, meaning my future was ruined perhaps before I was ever born!
Before you contact me in an attempt to answer that question for me (via E-mail, Twitter, or a blog “Comment”), know this much: I already know the answer as it pertains to me specifically. I have said for literally years (to myself & a bunch of others) that “I live in Butt-Crap, Ohio”. [It always reminds me of the years when my sister, my only other sibling, was going to college in Kentucky, & used to say the school was located "in (or near) BFE." At the time, I considered that a guarantee she would eventually meet & marry someone, perhaps largely because they & their family allowed her the ability to get out of the areas of both her college & where we grew up. Now, she is indeed married with her third child on the way, but she lives in the house I spent my first 2 decades in! I admit this is one of the few areas where I find her to be even somewhat "unpredictable".]
Anyway, as I said, I have spent 90% of my life in the same county of the same state, & therefore, obviously the same country. However, that still leaves me to wonder where I am.
For one thing, like many, I had dreams of different potential future occupations when I was growing up. For a few years, I thought of myself as being in a band, the other members of which had the dumbest names. (I prefer to not even think about it all anymore, though I remain sure these details will be publicized by my sister on her Twitter account, if not TV, should I ever become the least bit successful.) I also thought for a stretch that I would become a famous pitcher for the Dodgers, largely based on the “un-hit-ability” of a pitch I believed I created, which I know I then named after myself, but (as far as I know) can myself no longer throw. (For all I know, CC Sabathia, a man I once watched pitch for a local team who now does so for the world-famous Yankees, may in fact have thrown that very same pitch in a game this week, & been paid a ton of money for it!) For at least the past decade, I have been planning on a writing career, one that seems feasible due to my talent in the area & my actual ability to do so from just about anywhere I go… However, as my own Twitter profile admits, I have been “Printed several times, (but) never paid for it”, leaving that in what I see as an unidentifiable area between the pre-plan & actual undertaking.
Here’s another thing I think I know, however; Whether you are a pitcher like Mr. Sabathia; A singer-songwriter, like Dave Grohl (Grammy-winning member of once Nirvana & now the Foo Fighters, & born in the same hospital as my sister & myself); A movie star (Dad contended for a long time that “Cleveland’s own” Halle Berry, since that contention an Oscar-winner, will some day be interested in him); Or anything else, a main aim is either to get out of your home area or to make it famous for better than it currently is. I grew up watching TV (which is not to say that I wasn’t doing so 2 hours ago), & got sick of “Ohio” repeatedly & literally serving as a punchline. More-specifically, I am (as I said) from the same area as a Grammy-winner (have literally walked the streets he lived on), & a starter in a recent Super Bowl (Mario Manningham went to the same high school as both my parents), but also the same area as Maurice Clarett (same school as Manningham) & the “Joke Jims”. (I think Dad was on a first-name basis with Tressel, & I myself got a signed “form letter” from then-Senator Traficant.)
Even so, I now find myself occupying the same sort of “undefinable area” career-wise as my long-dreamt-of writing career. I was waiting in the hospital to get some bloodwork done earlier this week, which was ordered by a doctor I was seeing the next day (I also enjoy I can write relatively well regardless of my health-level), when I read a review of a play being performed locally. The review was accompanied by a picture including someone I have considered a close friend for years, & one paragraph in particular praised her work in the show. Sounds great; Right? Yeah. I sent her a message on Twitter, telling her, “Congrats!”… And almost-immediately got depressed…
Don’t get me wrong; To this very second, I remain happy for my friend. However, what bothers me is simply a law of Physics. (Admittedly, I know little more than what I’ve seen on “The Big Bang Theory”.) For years, I’ve heard people say, “What goes up must come down,” & I’ll never doubt it. However, what I see as just-as-obvious & never spoken is what happens previously in most of those cases (whether in actuality or purely hypothetical): “In order to go up, you gotta start down.”
For instance, I’ve spent a ton of time in Ohio hospitals, everything from the local hospital (which seems to have a staffing issue a month) to what I often call “the world-famous Cleveland Clinic”. (Actually had a kidney operated on there a few years back!) Every time I am in the ER, located on the Ground Floor, I know being admitted means going up in an elevator. Likewise, when I am released, I know which ever relative picks me up (I am the only unlicensed member of my “family of four”), I know getting to their vehicle means we ride the same car right back down. (It’s this I think of when people seem depressed as they speak about getting “the shaft” from their jobs.) This leaves me to wonder why many people, who I’m sure (though not as often) have all had the same hospital experiences as me, don’t remember, recall, & ponder both.
For over a decade, I have spent time walking through the local streets. I spend much of this time walking either to or from the local Mall &/or movie theaters. More often than I need think about, I spend much of that time imagining different portions of articles that will eventually be written about me when a local theatre performs a show I, in fact, wrote with the specific intention of premiering it at that same theatre, while in a cast of another show being performed there. I imagine it being written by a man I have admittedly little respect for (him or his opinions on many of the arts), largely because we have a history of online contact regarding articles he has written over the years & things he said in them, etc.
However, I often also consider what might be written later (both about me & the area I come from) when this same script gets performed outside the state of Ohio. In both cases, I have supposed/dreamt/expected something will be said about me “surprisingly emerging from small-town Ohio”, or perhaps “coming out of the same area that brought the country Maurice Clarett & Jim Traficant,” etc…
Therefore, I find myself mentally, &/or often emotionally, split: If this area is best-known for some of the aforementioned names & their stories, it may indeed be quite a surprise when the multi-genre, multi-platform talent I believe myself to eventually become is “offsprung” from it. However, if we are known more for Catherine Bach (AKA the original “Daisy Duke” on “Dukes of Hazzard”) & Austin Pendleton (my Mom has repeatedly worked on a stage named for his mother, and they seem to invite him back for a “celebration” of his family every year, though I mainly know him for “The Muppet Movie” & 1 episode of “The Cosby Show”), then the national audience will never possibly see my work as a rise from that, meaning my future was ruined perhaps before I was ever born!
2013.10.17
Originally hand-begun around 4:15 this AM.
I’ve Googled myself relentlessly over the past month.
I don’t mean that as any sort of euphemism; I strive to make my blogs & Twitter “feed” something my beloved nephews can read (as much as anything; Only 1 of the 2 is “school age”). What I mean is precisely what I (hand-)wrote: I have searched my own name (& several of my self-chosen “nom de ‘Net”s) on Google.com.
Do not assume from this I am self-obsessed; Questioning my parents, sibling, & best friend of over 2 decades will reveal I talk as much about “total strangers” & fictional folks as I do myself. The main reason for these attempts to “find myself” is to find years-old blogs like this. (Should my currently-disconnected external hard drive be compatible with my next PC, “my autobio” is 5-6ths written, & I once hoped to include some of them in it.)
As I took a writing break to read that much to myself, I started tapping “Dr. Comfort” on the floor. That sentence will make sense if-&-when you know that “my Dr. Comforts” is what I call the shoes I’ve now worn for 12-plus hours straight. I call them this not due to my podiatrist (Dr. Fonagy), but what they each say, both on their bottoms & the box they came in.
Earlier this week, Dr. F. said things I don’t now recall verbatim about my diagnosed Diabetes potentially causing BIG problems with/for my feet. If not for that, he, you, & all the aforementioned people should know they’d be very likely later today to find me in the city I’ve lived & walked in for years, but in the shoes I’ve long referred to as “my black ‘boks”.
Honestly, I don’t believe there is/are any special thing(s) about the black Reeboks I wore for years. I’m sure I could touch them without leaving the spot I sit in now, from where I can also see the white Reeboks I wore prior to them, which also may still fit.
In the closet with the white ‘boks are a pair of “dress shoes” someone bought me semi-recently, which I wore to church services for “a stretch”. In there also are a pair I call “my Marching Band-ers”, which I wore in the school marching band during my Senior Year. (I graduated a dozen years ago!)
Regardless, here is the Important Thing: All the shoes I’m not wearing have remained still the entire half-hour I’ve been writing, & I don’t think Ohio gets many earthquakes,… So none of these are the oft-mentioned “other shoe” I’m waiting-on “to fall”.
Originally hand-begun around 4:15 this AM.
I’ve Googled myself relentlessly over the past month.
I don’t mean that as any sort of euphemism; I strive to make my blogs & Twitter “feed” something my beloved nephews can read (as much as anything; Only 1 of the 2 is “school age”). What I mean is precisely what I (hand-)wrote: I have searched my own name (& several of my self-chosen “nom de ‘Net”s) on Google.com.
Do not assume from this I am self-obsessed; Questioning my parents, sibling, & best friend of over 2 decades will reveal I talk as much about “total strangers” & fictional folks as I do myself. The main reason for these attempts to “find myself” is to find years-old blogs like this. (Should my currently-disconnected external hard drive be compatible with my next PC, “my autobio” is 5-6ths written, & I once hoped to include some of them in it.)
As I took a writing break to read that much to myself, I started tapping “Dr. Comfort” on the floor. That sentence will make sense if-&-when you know that “my Dr. Comforts” is what I call the shoes I’ve now worn for 12-plus hours straight. I call them this not due to my podiatrist (Dr. Fonagy), but what they each say, both on their bottoms & the box they came in.
Earlier this week, Dr. F. said things I don’t now recall verbatim about my diagnosed Diabetes potentially causing BIG problems with/for my feet. If not for that, he, you, & all the aforementioned people should know they’d be very likely later today to find me in the city I’ve lived & walked in for years, but in the shoes I’ve long referred to as “my black ‘boks”.
Honestly, I don’t believe there is/are any special thing(s) about the black Reeboks I wore for years. I’m sure I could touch them without leaving the spot I sit in now, from where I can also see the white Reeboks I wore prior to them, which also may still fit.
In the closet with the white ‘boks are a pair of “dress shoes” someone bought me semi-recently, which I wore to church services for “a stretch”. In there also are a pair I call “my Marching Band-ers”, which I wore in the school marching band during my Senior Year. (I graduated a dozen years ago!)
Regardless, here is the Important Thing: All the shoes I’m not wearing have remained still the entire half-hour I’ve been writing, & I don’t think Ohio gets many earthquakes,… So none of these are the oft-mentioned “other shoe” I’m waiting-on “to fall”.
2013.10.22
I don’t mean for that title to sound negative, no matter who might think otherwise. It’s not the way I think of these blogs or anything… Nor do I want anyone to think I am incapable of mourning a loss. (I still find myself upset when people I haven’t seen for years die, & I have found myself to be unable to even properly deal with the end of new “Burn Notice” episodes.) However, there is something (several, to be honest) I am currently trying to get rid of. This is what I felt the need to write about today.
If you read one of my blogs from last month, you will see it mentions a then-recent appointment with my endocrinologist (or, as I have long preferred to refer to that person, “my sugar-doctor”). I have seen her once since then… And that is what started it all. She was upset about how much I’ve lost weight recently. (So am I!) She also was upset about me being taken-off of Geodon, a medication one of my other doctors (my “general guy”, often referred-to by others as my “family doctor”) weaned me off of earlier this year. She also seemed to be VERY-strongly feeling that I needed to be on some other kind of psycho- something drug to take its place.
This reminds me of a few years ago. I was seeing an “endo” (how I refer to them, for time-saving’s sake) who for one reason or another decided he no longer wanted to deal with me. He therefore told me to have my “general” person handle my Diabetes & everything else. That didn’t go so hot (in anyone’s opinion), & I eventually got pushed along to an endocrinologist in Pennsylvania. Eventually, I was redirected to the one I currently see.
Ironically, she may have talked herself right out of a job, or at least a patient. She told me to make an appointment with my “general guy”, who at that appointment, set me up to go see another endocrinologist. (I’m pretty sure I’ll write about that appointment if & when it happens.)
In the meantime, I have an appointment coming up later in the week with the psychiatrist I was originally set-up with by a counselor I was seeing in the same building he works in because (in her words), “He can prescribe medications, & I can’t.” (He has yet to put me on anything, & I doubt that will change this month.) Later in the week, I go back to the same building to see a counselor there that it sounds like they’re setting-up to replace the aforementioned one (who took another job elsewhere, for reasons I believe had nothing to do with me).
Regardless, I expect sometime within the next five years (at absolute-most), I will be free of them all… It will be proven, however such a thing is done (I Googled it, & came-up relatively-empty) that I “am not now, nor ever was” ANY “Type” of Daabetic. Connected to this or not, the majority of my other doctors will become as smart as I for one expect people who go to that much schooling to be, & realize I would’ve been MUCH better off all this time if they were each individually able to just stop seeing me without shipping me off to each other.
I don’t mean for that title to sound negative, no matter who might think otherwise. It’s not the way I think of these blogs or anything… Nor do I want anyone to think I am incapable of mourning a loss. (I still find myself upset when people I haven’t seen for years die, & I have found myself to be unable to even properly deal with the end of new “Burn Notice” episodes.) However, there is something (several, to be honest) I am currently trying to get rid of. This is what I felt the need to write about today.
If you read one of my blogs from last month, you will see it mentions a then-recent appointment with my endocrinologist (or, as I have long preferred to refer to that person, “my sugar-doctor”). I have seen her once since then… And that is what started it all. She was upset about how much I’ve lost weight recently. (So am I!) She also was upset about me being taken-off of Geodon, a medication one of my other doctors (my “general guy”, often referred-to by others as my “family doctor”) weaned me off of earlier this year. She also seemed to be VERY-strongly feeling that I needed to be on some other kind of psycho- something drug to take its place.
This reminds me of a few years ago. I was seeing an “endo” (how I refer to them, for time-saving’s sake) who for one reason or another decided he no longer wanted to deal with me. He therefore told me to have my “general” person handle my Diabetes & everything else. That didn’t go so hot (in anyone’s opinion), & I eventually got pushed along to an endocrinologist in Pennsylvania. Eventually, I was redirected to the one I currently see.
Ironically, she may have talked herself right out of a job, or at least a patient. She told me to make an appointment with my “general guy”, who at that appointment, set me up to go see another endocrinologist. (I’m pretty sure I’ll write about that appointment if & when it happens.)
In the meantime, I have an appointment coming up later in the week with the psychiatrist I was originally set-up with by a counselor I was seeing in the same building he works in because (in her words), “He can prescribe medications, & I can’t.” (He has yet to put me on anything, & I doubt that will change this month.) Later in the week, I go back to the same building to see a counselor there that it sounds like they’re setting-up to replace the aforementioned one (who took another job elsewhere, for reasons I believe had nothing to do with me).
Regardless, I expect sometime within the next five years (at absolute-most), I will be free of them all… It will be proven, however such a thing is done (I Googled it, & came-up relatively-empty) that I “am not now, nor ever was” ANY “Type” of Daabetic. Connected to this or not, the majority of my other doctors will become as smart as I for one expect people who go to that much schooling to be, & realize I would’ve been MUCH better off all this time if they were each individually able to just stop seeing me without shipping me off to each other.
2013.11.3
Just a note, first (“for starters”), to anyone who might be a user of “social media” (Facebook, Twitter, Google-Plus, etc.): So am I. This blog, despite what the title may lead you to believe, will not be one against the use of any social media.
I try to keep my real first-&-last names off my blogs… [I've been hacked a few times, and as the fictional Richard Castle (@nathanfillion; I "follow" him on Twitter) says in the pilot, "Cuff me once, shame on you...".] However. if you know them & care to look on Facebook or Twitter, you will find me on both. (Fact: I remain rather active on Twitter, & apparently added a new “friend” on Facebook recently I actually was in-person friends with a-decade-plus ago, but the me typing this blog has no actual access to the F-book account, leaving my sister to often read me a list of Facebook “friends” who leave me birthday wishes.)
Anyway, let me tell you what I’ve been up to in the few-weeks-or-so since I posted my last blog: Reading. That may sound boring to some of you, but it’s actually been rather enjoyable for me. As you’ve probably “gotten” from my past blogs, I had a lot of doctors’ (not sure where the apostrophe should go in that case) appointments in a little bit of time, so it was especially nice for me to be able to decide how to fill my time when I’ve had a seemingly-related break from them since. (I admittedly spent a ton of it sleeping, but I often found myself simply enjoying the fact I didn’t have to be awake, doing laundry, etc.)
My family will probably admit that I’ve been doing more reading than many my age for a long time. Honestly, I read it once in a book by a still-active author (Stephen King) that “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” [The book was, ironically (no joke) called, "On Writing."] At the time, I thought that was a bunch of crap. Honestly, though, in the time I have been sort of “taking off” from writing (I have been “printed several times, but never paid for it,” as my Twitter profile reads), I have found myself doing a ton of reading: Fiction; Nonfiction (why not just call that “reality” the way we do TV… “Reality reading”?… As Micky Dolenz says, “I love alliteration!”); Newspapers & old issues of Rolling Stone; And probably some others that list doesn’t cover which my thumbs have.
In my last blog, I mentioned an upcoming meeting/appointment with a counselor. (I certainly won’t name her here, as there are apparently rules barring her from mentioning what we discuss to anyone else. I’m still sorry my previous counselor can’t tell anyone about some of the still-to-come things I mentioned to her!!) She mentioned, among other things, that it might help to try being more social amongst my family (at the very least). Guess what?! Tried that, & discovered it’s somewhat of a “no-go”; It seems much of my family listens to conversations like looking for “tags” on a blog. For instance, when my mother or sister hears me mention wrestling at all, they “tune-out” like Timothy Leary. This leaves me a few options: First, there’s my father, somewhat of a local celebrity (especially when it comes to local sports), & I’d be happy to converse with him… However, when I texted him about events of today’s Steelers game, he reminded me (in very-certain terms) I said I wasn’t speaking to him anymore. I recalled this was due to a conversation we had when he was over last week for our then-weekly time watching wrestling together. (I’d rather not get into it; Suffice it to say I will not be changing my mind!) I also could talk to my nephews. However, both are too young to understand much of the words I find my adult self able to use very simply & regularly.
I then find myself looking for ways to simply “kill time”. One early way that I tried (not originally planning on using it as a means to do so) was to attend a birthday party for my cousin’s daughter… However, I then went into the math it was the 2nd birthday of her daughter, & the cousin herself was not born until I was a few years old! This made me think about what I’ve accomplished in my “X number of” years, which proved largely depressing. On to time talking with my sister (over the phone or in person)… This went OK, until I heard her yelling at one of my nephews. In addition to my never having been employed, I have no offspring to speak of. “Chalk that up” to never having dated anyone even once; While that assures I will also never be questioned by Maury Povich or police, it’s another thing my sister & cousin have both accomplished I have not.
(It’s kind of ironic, honestly: That previously-mentioned, yet-to-happen thing I discussed with my counselor has often been the reason I tell myself for not jumping off of a local bridge, as some of the necessary components still exist only in my head, so it could not be fully “done right” without me. That said, for whatever reason, it has “yet-to-happen”, so it remains right up there with travelling to other continents as something I have never accomplished.)
I then often find myself reading. This seems relatively-easy & not-depressing, as well as being something I can do whether I am in my home or away from it. [I "killed time" reading a paperback recently (searching "Tweets" proves it to actually be Aug. 24th) while also drinking a diet soda at/near the local Mall's Food Court.] However, even with things already-printed-in-completion, I find myself with questions… For instance, I just yesterday finished “Split Second” by David Baldacci. (Was first interested in it years ago, & having watched first season of “King & Maxwell” series on TNT, became so all over again.) But the book now comes with a preview of his next book, simply titled “King & Maxwell”, due out this month! To read or skip?! (Finally, chose to read, & it barely mentions them, & “Edgar”, my favorite character on show, even less! Disappointed again!) Now, onto “Ghost In The Wires”, “reality reading” by Kevin Mitnick. (Feel better about this one; Good review by creator/producer of “White Collar”, & interesting Foreword by Steve Wozniak, who I wouldn’t know if I hadn’t seen him on “The Big Bang Theory“.)
But, when done “in whole”, shouldn’t reading just remind me more of the writing I have yet to (technically) accomplish?! (I wrote a ton of “short stories” roughly 15 years ago, & have tried contacting the “big name” publishers online, but no responses yet.) Worse yet, even travelling on foot (I call myself “the king of the walking trips”) just reminds me I come from the same town as Dave Grohl, who has accomplished so much more (& made so much more money doing it) than me!
Therefore, I largely find myself attempting to write for online fiction sites (though this is where I believe the aforementioned hackers to have originated, & I am often left to “submitting” the same story “threads” repeatedly on subsequent days), or posting about things on Twitter (though, as I mentioned, it’s often about the fictional characters I’m regularly watching do things, or the fictional characters I’m reading that are either doing things or deciding what they should do next).
All-in-all, an overall-largely-depressing practice. Even so, it seems my financial rations from my previously-blogged-about “guardians” arrived this weekend, & tomorrow is the first day of the work week for many people in many companies, stores, etc… Maybe that can mean something good for me… And if not, at least screwing it up can be something I’ve accomplished.!
Just a note, first (“for starters”), to anyone who might be a user of “social media” (Facebook, Twitter, Google-Plus, etc.): So am I. This blog, despite what the title may lead you to believe, will not be one against the use of any social media.
I try to keep my real first-&-last names off my blogs… [I've been hacked a few times, and as the fictional Richard Castle (@nathanfillion; I "follow" him on Twitter) says in the pilot, "Cuff me once, shame on you...".] However. if you know them & care to look on Facebook or Twitter, you will find me on both. (Fact: I remain rather active on Twitter, & apparently added a new “friend” on Facebook recently I actually was in-person friends with a-decade-plus ago, but the me typing this blog has no actual access to the F-book account, leaving my sister to often read me a list of Facebook “friends” who leave me birthday wishes.)
Anyway, let me tell you what I’ve been up to in the few-weeks-or-so since I posted my last blog: Reading. That may sound boring to some of you, but it’s actually been rather enjoyable for me. As you’ve probably “gotten” from my past blogs, I had a lot of doctors’ (not sure where the apostrophe should go in that case) appointments in a little bit of time, so it was especially nice for me to be able to decide how to fill my time when I’ve had a seemingly-related break from them since. (I admittedly spent a ton of it sleeping, but I often found myself simply enjoying the fact I didn’t have to be awake, doing laundry, etc.)
My family will probably admit that I’ve been doing more reading than many my age for a long time. Honestly, I read it once in a book by a still-active author (Stephen King) that “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.” [The book was, ironically (no joke) called, "On Writing."] At the time, I thought that was a bunch of crap. Honestly, though, in the time I have been sort of “taking off” from writing (I have been “printed several times, but never paid for it,” as my Twitter profile reads), I have found myself doing a ton of reading: Fiction; Nonfiction (why not just call that “reality” the way we do TV… “Reality reading”?… As Micky Dolenz says, “I love alliteration!”); Newspapers & old issues of Rolling Stone; And probably some others that list doesn’t cover which my thumbs have.
In my last blog, I mentioned an upcoming meeting/appointment with a counselor. (I certainly won’t name her here, as there are apparently rules barring her from mentioning what we discuss to anyone else. I’m still sorry my previous counselor can’t tell anyone about some of the still-to-come things I mentioned to her!!) She mentioned, among other things, that it might help to try being more social amongst my family (at the very least). Guess what?! Tried that, & discovered it’s somewhat of a “no-go”; It seems much of my family listens to conversations like looking for “tags” on a blog. For instance, when my mother or sister hears me mention wrestling at all, they “tune-out” like Timothy Leary. This leaves me a few options: First, there’s my father, somewhat of a local celebrity (especially when it comes to local sports), & I’d be happy to converse with him… However, when I texted him about events of today’s Steelers game, he reminded me (in very-certain terms) I said I wasn’t speaking to him anymore. I recalled this was due to a conversation we had when he was over last week for our then-weekly time watching wrestling together. (I’d rather not get into it; Suffice it to say I will not be changing my mind!) I also could talk to my nephews. However, both are too young to understand much of the words I find my adult self able to use very simply & regularly.
I then find myself looking for ways to simply “kill time”. One early way that I tried (not originally planning on using it as a means to do so) was to attend a birthday party for my cousin’s daughter… However, I then went into the math it was the 2nd birthday of her daughter, & the cousin herself was not born until I was a few years old! This made me think about what I’ve accomplished in my “X number of” years, which proved largely depressing. On to time talking with my sister (over the phone or in person)… This went OK, until I heard her yelling at one of my nephews. In addition to my never having been employed, I have no offspring to speak of. “Chalk that up” to never having dated anyone even once; While that assures I will also never be questioned by Maury Povich or police, it’s another thing my sister & cousin have both accomplished I have not.
(It’s kind of ironic, honestly: That previously-mentioned, yet-to-happen thing I discussed with my counselor has often been the reason I tell myself for not jumping off of a local bridge, as some of the necessary components still exist only in my head, so it could not be fully “done right” without me. That said, for whatever reason, it has “yet-to-happen”, so it remains right up there with travelling to other continents as something I have never accomplished.)
I then often find myself reading. This seems relatively-easy & not-depressing, as well as being something I can do whether I am in my home or away from it. [I "killed time" reading a paperback recently (searching "Tweets" proves it to actually be Aug. 24th) while also drinking a diet soda at/near the local Mall's Food Court.] However, even with things already-printed-in-completion, I find myself with questions… For instance, I just yesterday finished “Split Second” by David Baldacci. (Was first interested in it years ago, & having watched first season of “King & Maxwell” series on TNT, became so all over again.) But the book now comes with a preview of his next book, simply titled “King & Maxwell”, due out this month! To read or skip?! (Finally, chose to read, & it barely mentions them, & “Edgar”, my favorite character on show, even less! Disappointed again!) Now, onto “Ghost In The Wires”, “reality reading” by Kevin Mitnick. (Feel better about this one; Good review by creator/producer of “White Collar”, & interesting Foreword by Steve Wozniak, who I wouldn’t know if I hadn’t seen him on “The Big Bang Theory“.)
But, when done “in whole”, shouldn’t reading just remind me more of the writing I have yet to (technically) accomplish?! (I wrote a ton of “short stories” roughly 15 years ago, & have tried contacting the “big name” publishers online, but no responses yet.) Worse yet, even travelling on foot (I call myself “the king of the walking trips”) just reminds me I come from the same town as Dave Grohl, who has accomplished so much more (& made so much more money doing it) than me!
Therefore, I largely find myself attempting to write for online fiction sites (though this is where I believe the aforementioned hackers to have originated, & I am often left to “submitting” the same story “threads” repeatedly on subsequent days), or posting about things on Twitter (though, as I mentioned, it’s often about the fictional characters I’m regularly watching do things, or the fictional characters I’m reading that are either doing things or deciding what they should do next).
All-in-all, an overall-largely-depressing practice. Even so, it seems my financial rations from my previously-blogged-about “guardians” arrived this weekend, & tomorrow is the first day of the work week for many people in many companies, stores, etc… Maybe that can mean something good for me… And if not, at least screwing it up can be something I’ve accomplished.!
2013.11.8
Fact: I have a big head.
I don’t mean I have an ego. While I admit to having often said aloud remarks about how smart I am, creative I am, etc., I believe the vast majority of the traits I have mentioned myself having are things that can be proven, & I see nothing wrong with mentioning them when spending a half-hour with me would get people who were previously “complete strangers” to honestly say the same thing.
No. What I mean is I physically, visibly, have a big head. I have heard this from people (including the aforementioned “complete strangers”) for literally decades. As I recall, I have very-rarely heard, “Your head is HUGE!”. It’s usually been a comment more like “How did your head get so big?” or “Why is your head so big?”. However, the fact is that, from both kids & adults (including in both cases people my age & older-or-younger), I have heard many comments & questions about my head. I also still presently own two Dallas Cowboy “baseball caps” (from the Troy Aikman days; Don’t really care about Tony Romo) that never, ever fit me.
However, it was at-most a year ago I found that I had a growth atop my head. I am in this case not referring to either of my shunts (things attached by other humans to my head due to a neurological condition I have been diagnosed with for much of my life), both of which are located on the back of my head (& one of which I still use as the primary sign I need to get a haircut). I am referring to things I can think to refer to in no better way. They are simply growths on my head; They appear to serve no purpose, & decent work with a fingernail (even while watching a TV show or one of my many wrestling DVDs) seems to rid of much of it no problem.
Therefore, I called the number of a dermatologist I first went to years ago. (He had already operated on my torso years ago, & his family, largely different sorts of doctors, were some level of “friends” with my parents.) I was told he was gone, but there was a new dermatologist filling the same office. I was transferred to that phone number, & made an appointment.
I went to that appointment, & the guy gave me a simplistic explanation for the problem; Not the size of my head (which I have always “chalked up” to the neurological issue, & often jokingly blamed on my metaphorically-larger brain &/or IQ) but the recent increased growth. He then gave me prescriptions & (no joke) a combination advertisement-coupon for a special kind of shampoo he wanted me to pick up & begin using on a very-specific schedule. I did all that, & went to see him a few months later.
When I went back to see him & he asked me if there were any problems, I smiled & said, “No,” very-happily reporting that it all seemed to have (largely, anyway) gone away. I expected that he would surely be happy, & we’d say “Goodbye” to each other, perhaps never seeing each other again. Instead, this man surprised me; He took the idea of “If it (his treatment plan) ain’t (wasn’t) broke,…”, & suggested I continue with the special shampoos, etc.
As I said in my previous blog, I have grown up with a near-constant thought/feeling of “Fool/Cuff me once, shame on you…”. Naturally, this was not the case when I was younger, which I suspect is a major reason why the vast majority of my graduating Class (if asked tomorrow) would say we were not actively friends, & I have not spoken to a great deal of them in a decade, but we never had problems with each other or any negative feelings towards each other…
…However, this has changed since I was about 18, the age I was at when first diagnosed as a Diabetic. [I believe that occurrence to be a main reason why. However, to those who may still believe I am a Diabetic, I say it is a change that comes with adulthood, as in my many years of watching court shows ("Judge Mathis", etc.) & fictional law shows ("Law & Order", etc.), I have always remained unsure what the legal adult age is, & reading about cases in the news/online, it appears that may even change depending on what crime you are charged with/believed to have committed.]
Now, I seem to trust/distrust people largely as a group based on the single first experience. For instance, ever since that first person told me I was diabetic over a dozen years ago (it was in a hospital, so I don’t recall a specific doctor’s name), I have often automatically believed that most doctors will say just about anything (diagnoses, referrals, tests, medication-prescriptions) that they think/know will get them more money. Not recalling exactly when the first appointment with this dermatologist was, I may (for all anyone knows) have been ready to start believing the vast majority of my doctors again at that time. However, the way this man has acted in his only-doctor-patient relationship with me, he has (as one might say) “ruined it for the rest of” them.
Fact: I have a big head.
I don’t mean I have an ego. While I admit to having often said aloud remarks about how smart I am, creative I am, etc., I believe the vast majority of the traits I have mentioned myself having are things that can be proven, & I see nothing wrong with mentioning them when spending a half-hour with me would get people who were previously “complete strangers” to honestly say the same thing.
No. What I mean is I physically, visibly, have a big head. I have heard this from people (including the aforementioned “complete strangers”) for literally decades. As I recall, I have very-rarely heard, “Your head is HUGE!”. It’s usually been a comment more like “How did your head get so big?” or “Why is your head so big?”. However, the fact is that, from both kids & adults (including in both cases people my age & older-or-younger), I have heard many comments & questions about my head. I also still presently own two Dallas Cowboy “baseball caps” (from the Troy Aikman days; Don’t really care about Tony Romo) that never, ever fit me.
However, it was at-most a year ago I found that I had a growth atop my head. I am in this case not referring to either of my shunts (things attached by other humans to my head due to a neurological condition I have been diagnosed with for much of my life), both of which are located on the back of my head (& one of which I still use as the primary sign I need to get a haircut). I am referring to things I can think to refer to in no better way. They are simply growths on my head; They appear to serve no purpose, & decent work with a fingernail (even while watching a TV show or one of my many wrestling DVDs) seems to rid of much of it no problem.
Therefore, I called the number of a dermatologist I first went to years ago. (He had already operated on my torso years ago, & his family, largely different sorts of doctors, were some level of “friends” with my parents.) I was told he was gone, but there was a new dermatologist filling the same office. I was transferred to that phone number, & made an appointment.
I went to that appointment, & the guy gave me a simplistic explanation for the problem; Not the size of my head (which I have always “chalked up” to the neurological issue, & often jokingly blamed on my metaphorically-larger brain &/or IQ) but the recent increased growth. He then gave me prescriptions & (no joke) a combination advertisement-coupon for a special kind of shampoo he wanted me to pick up & begin using on a very-specific schedule. I did all that, & went to see him a few months later.
When I went back to see him & he asked me if there were any problems, I smiled & said, “No,” very-happily reporting that it all seemed to have (largely, anyway) gone away. I expected that he would surely be happy, & we’d say “Goodbye” to each other, perhaps never seeing each other again. Instead, this man surprised me; He took the idea of “If it (his treatment plan) ain’t (wasn’t) broke,…”, & suggested I continue with the special shampoos, etc.
As I said in my previous blog, I have grown up with a near-constant thought/feeling of “Fool/Cuff me once, shame on you…”. Naturally, this was not the case when I was younger, which I suspect is a major reason why the vast majority of my graduating Class (if asked tomorrow) would say we were not actively friends, & I have not spoken to a great deal of them in a decade, but we never had problems with each other or any negative feelings towards each other…
…However, this has changed since I was about 18, the age I was at when first diagnosed as a Diabetic. [I believe that occurrence to be a main reason why. However, to those who may still believe I am a Diabetic, I say it is a change that comes with adulthood, as in my many years of watching court shows ("Judge Mathis", etc.) & fictional law shows ("Law & Order", etc.), I have always remained unsure what the legal adult age is, & reading about cases in the news/online, it appears that may even change depending on what crime you are charged with/believed to have committed.]
Now, I seem to trust/distrust people largely as a group based on the single first experience. For instance, ever since that first person told me I was diabetic over a dozen years ago (it was in a hospital, so I don’t recall a specific doctor’s name), I have often automatically believed that most doctors will say just about anything (diagnoses, referrals, tests, medication-prescriptions) that they think/know will get them more money. Not recalling exactly when the first appointment with this dermatologist was, I may (for all anyone knows) have been ready to start believing the vast majority of my doctors again at that time. However, the way this man has acted in his only-doctor-patient relationship with me, he has (as one might say) “ruined it for the rest of” them.
2013.11.17
If you’ve been reading my blogs (even just those on WordPress) with any regularity, you might get the feeling I am very-often depressed. I am not meaning for that to happen; Trust me that I am well-aware a blog about a depressing life might be just as depressing (if not more so) for those who come to visit &/or read it. However, in much the same way it is popularly said that “Perception is 9-10ths of reality”, I mainly blog about what my life is about/is for/includes, & the fact is I have been very depressed since around Labor Day, if not before.
Even so, I have been to my share of “counselors”, psychiatrists, psychologists, & who all knows what else in the past decade-or-so. While I have already mentioned in these blogs I’ve learned that they can’t discuss with others my various writing projects & things I discuss with them, I also learned firsthand years ago that things I say in “sessions” with them can be used to send me straight to the Psych Ward of the local hospital. While I have been there-&-home-again at least twice, always with the “OK” from a “medical pro” (not breaking-out like a character I once saw on an episode of “Burn Notice”, played by an actor named Michael Weston, pronounced & almost spelled the exact-same as the lead character on the show), that does not mean I am in any mood to go back.
Since I wrote about seeing her the last time, I have called to make another appointment with that same counselor, thinking she (like her predecessor) would help me work on my depression. I went to that appointment last week, & rather than even attempt to work on that, she continued asking me the same one question, claiming she couldn’t “work with” me until we answered it. To this minute, I honestly have yet to answer it.
Regardless (it seems I therefore may not go back again), I have realized simply enough the one way to continue living with basically the same amount of freedom I usually have (to read what I want, watch what I want, listen to the still-unplayed CDs I bought months ago, but avoid the hospital) is mainly to continually enact a bit of deception. (I admit this may have a lot to do with the fact I just watched episodes of “Burn Notice” & “Leverage” back-to-back, & am currently reading a book I mentioned in a previous blog by former FBI fugitive Kevin Mitnick.) I don’t mean lying to anyone; Simply not telling them I don’t see a point to living, etc.
The only problem there is it appears to lead me to a complication… When I have a conversation with extended-family relatives or so-called “medical professionals” where I don’t mention my lack of “will to live”, they inevitably ask me what I’ve been doing lately. Reading a paperback & checking my blood-sugar is “all well & good” (not to mention perfectly legal & healthy), but again, quite boring. What do I do to kill time & have something to tell them then?…
…The reason I left the ellipses there is because I can’t answer that question. Rather, I could, but it has potentially enough answers to fill a whole ‘nother blog. I get to, as I’ve come to sometimes refer to it, “choose my own adventure” there. Sure; I admit that sometimes means walking to the Mall, which I tend to do as regularly as once-a-week. However, once inside, there are potentially dozens of stores I have never set a single step into. As the saying goes, “There’s a first time for everything.” (There is one store in our Mall I used to avoid on purpose. Eventually, I walked in, telling myself I was just going in there “for book research,” to have things ready I could write about other people/stores characters I had begun writing stories about might experience. Now, I have a near-full “active shopper” card for that same store, along with a keychain “fob” & at least 1 T-shirt I bought there.)
Ever since just about the day I was first told I was Diabetic, I preferred to have something to look forward to, a reason why I was multiple-times-a-day taking insulin shots, and taking other steps to care for a disease I’ve never believed I had. It could be the local “Rib Burn-Off”, where I have yet to bite into a single rib, but which was once home to national bands like Gin Blossoms. It could be a wrestling event or basketball game in Cleveland. Often, a decent-looking TV premiere would be enough for me to consider “worth it”. (Sure, there were times I was disappointed by the event… But by then, that means it was over, & I had to look for the next upcoming thing on my calendar.) Now, I similarly often find myself looking for future events. Since I often find my next several events are doctors’ appointments, I replace those in my head with the open time I have surrounding them, which are mine to fill as I see fit.
As my way of repaying any regular readers for boring them with my recent blogs, join me in this exercise. Unlike me typing, you don’t need your hands to read my blog… So everyone reading it, raise your hand (any of them; I won’t know or care which) if you’ve yet to climb a mountain. Cool; Now, keep it up there if you know for a fact you couldn’t do it. My eyes are decent, according to my ophthalmologist, but there better not be anyone out there I could potentially see with a hand up now! The only reason you know you can’t do it is if you don’t have any hands! Maybe you tried unsuccessfully, for instance, to climb Everest or “K2″; That’s cool, & just means you need to pick a smaller one next time.
Off to the side, I’ll admit I used to go to the local “Relay For Life” when I was in school. My Grandmother was a cancer survivor, I believe. After I was diagnosed Diabetic, however, I stopped. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not supporting cancer, or anything like that! However, last I checked, cancer & Diabetes were both diseases without “sure-thing” cures. I still get upset whenever I read about Wahoo McDaniel or another celebrity who dies from “complications of diabetes”; Even so, I’m betting (if I believe the popular idea I have Diabetes, which I honestly never have to this second) that it or “complications from” it will be what kills me. That means I can fill the rest of the time attempting to cross busy local streets with my shoes untied, eating things I can’t identify (going against a rule I’ve long held myself to), or any number of various other things.
Odds are if you read this, & especially if you’ve done so this far, that means you know me &/or where I live. Just know I have the vast majority of this week open, & will be filling it with the things listed above & who all knows what else. If you feel the need, come on down & try to stop me. I’ll be up late, sampling my old Fall Out Boy CD (especially “Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying…”).
If you’ve been reading my blogs (even just those on WordPress) with any regularity, you might get the feeling I am very-often depressed. I am not meaning for that to happen; Trust me that I am well-aware a blog about a depressing life might be just as depressing (if not more so) for those who come to visit &/or read it. However, in much the same way it is popularly said that “Perception is 9-10ths of reality”, I mainly blog about what my life is about/is for/includes, & the fact is I have been very depressed since around Labor Day, if not before.
Even so, I have been to my share of “counselors”, psychiatrists, psychologists, & who all knows what else in the past decade-or-so. While I have already mentioned in these blogs I’ve learned that they can’t discuss with others my various writing projects & things I discuss with them, I also learned firsthand years ago that things I say in “sessions” with them can be used to send me straight to the Psych Ward of the local hospital. While I have been there-&-home-again at least twice, always with the “OK” from a “medical pro” (not breaking-out like a character I once saw on an episode of “Burn Notice”, played by an actor named Michael Weston, pronounced & almost spelled the exact-same as the lead character on the show), that does not mean I am in any mood to go back.
Since I wrote about seeing her the last time, I have called to make another appointment with that same counselor, thinking she (like her predecessor) would help me work on my depression. I went to that appointment last week, & rather than even attempt to work on that, she continued asking me the same one question, claiming she couldn’t “work with” me until we answered it. To this minute, I honestly have yet to answer it.
Regardless (it seems I therefore may not go back again), I have realized simply enough the one way to continue living with basically the same amount of freedom I usually have (to read what I want, watch what I want, listen to the still-unplayed CDs I bought months ago, but avoid the hospital) is mainly to continually enact a bit of deception. (I admit this may have a lot to do with the fact I just watched episodes of “Burn Notice” & “Leverage” back-to-back, & am currently reading a book I mentioned in a previous blog by former FBI fugitive Kevin Mitnick.) I don’t mean lying to anyone; Simply not telling them I don’t see a point to living, etc.
The only problem there is it appears to lead me to a complication… When I have a conversation with extended-family relatives or so-called “medical professionals” where I don’t mention my lack of “will to live”, they inevitably ask me what I’ve been doing lately. Reading a paperback & checking my blood-sugar is “all well & good” (not to mention perfectly legal & healthy), but again, quite boring. What do I do to kill time & have something to tell them then?…
…The reason I left the ellipses there is because I can’t answer that question. Rather, I could, but it has potentially enough answers to fill a whole ‘nother blog. I get to, as I’ve come to sometimes refer to it, “choose my own adventure” there. Sure; I admit that sometimes means walking to the Mall, which I tend to do as regularly as once-a-week. However, once inside, there are potentially dozens of stores I have never set a single step into. As the saying goes, “There’s a first time for everything.” (There is one store in our Mall I used to avoid on purpose. Eventually, I walked in, telling myself I was just going in there “for book research,” to have things ready I could write about other people/stores characters I had begun writing stories about might experience. Now, I have a near-full “active shopper” card for that same store, along with a keychain “fob” & at least 1 T-shirt I bought there.)
Ever since just about the day I was first told I was Diabetic, I preferred to have something to look forward to, a reason why I was multiple-times-a-day taking insulin shots, and taking other steps to care for a disease I’ve never believed I had. It could be the local “Rib Burn-Off”, where I have yet to bite into a single rib, but which was once home to national bands like Gin Blossoms. It could be a wrestling event or basketball game in Cleveland. Often, a decent-looking TV premiere would be enough for me to consider “worth it”. (Sure, there were times I was disappointed by the event… But by then, that means it was over, & I had to look for the next upcoming thing on my calendar.) Now, I similarly often find myself looking for future events. Since I often find my next several events are doctors’ appointments, I replace those in my head with the open time I have surrounding them, which are mine to fill as I see fit.
As my way of repaying any regular readers for boring them with my recent blogs, join me in this exercise. Unlike me typing, you don’t need your hands to read my blog… So everyone reading it, raise your hand (any of them; I won’t know or care which) if you’ve yet to climb a mountain. Cool; Now, keep it up there if you know for a fact you couldn’t do it. My eyes are decent, according to my ophthalmologist, but there better not be anyone out there I could potentially see with a hand up now! The only reason you know you can’t do it is if you don’t have any hands! Maybe you tried unsuccessfully, for instance, to climb Everest or “K2″; That’s cool, & just means you need to pick a smaller one next time.
Off to the side, I’ll admit I used to go to the local “Relay For Life” when I was in school. My Grandmother was a cancer survivor, I believe. After I was diagnosed Diabetic, however, I stopped. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not supporting cancer, or anything like that! However, last I checked, cancer & Diabetes were both diseases without “sure-thing” cures. I still get upset whenever I read about Wahoo McDaniel or another celebrity who dies from “complications of diabetes”; Even so, I’m betting (if I believe the popular idea I have Diabetes, which I honestly never have to this second) that it or “complications from” it will be what kills me. That means I can fill the rest of the time attempting to cross busy local streets with my shoes untied, eating things I can’t identify (going against a rule I’ve long held myself to), or any number of various other things.
Odds are if you read this, & especially if you’ve done so this far, that means you know me &/or where I live. Just know I have the vast majority of this week open, & will be filling it with the things listed above & who all knows what else. If you feel the need, come on down & try to stop me. I’ll be up late, sampling my old Fall Out Boy CD (especially “Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying…”).
2013.11.25
As I sit here, it is about 10 minutes after 11 PM on November 25th, 2013. I am sitting in the same county & state I was born in. Before the end of the calendar year, I am facing 2 more birthdays. (Only one of them is mine; The other belongs to either my 3rd nephew or my 1st niece.)
As I approach my birthday (&, coincidentally, the end of the actual calendar) every year, I tend to do some quick Math in my head. I have spent easily 95-plus % of my life in the USA, & I’d estimate an easy 90-plus % in the state of Ohio. I mention all this because it was in the house I grew up in (also in this county, where many of the current residents are “blood relatives”) a few years back that I first spoke of the idea of eventually becoming President. I’ve got about a half-decade before I will be old enough to legally take that position, but since I meet all the other rules &/or requirements, I have not entirely ruled it out.
It was roughly 2 weeks ago I started seriously considering such things more than I have in a long time. I was watching the Steelers play football on TV. (I still remember my best friend telling me that he was a fan of Pittsburgh sports teams over 2 decades ago, & I said the same. Now, he lives in Massachusetts, & while I didn’t become a Steelers fan until we were both in high school, I have no idea what teams he currently supports.)
I started thinking about the remaining majority of my week, most of which was open. I considered spending some of the time at the movies, shopping, or just “killing time” at the local Mall. I figured that if “my” Steelers won that day, I’d possibly wear one of my team shirts wherever I went the next day. I also thought that anyone who supported the team we were then facing could also wear that team’s apparel to the same place the same day no matter the outcome of the game, & neither of us could legally say or do anything to the other claiming the action/speech was spurred by the clothing.
The majority of the time I have seen such things discussed (admittedly, this is most-often fictional series/films), the person(s) claim it is part of their Constitutionally-given “freedom of speech”. This often makes me laugh; While I’m known to say, “You’ll never find a bigger defender of people’s right to their opinion than me”, I take it into account that when exercising their “freedom of speech” in this way, there is very-rarely any speaking actually done.
Around the time of this particular game, it hit me that I have a problem with people exercising this right & others like it. I remain a staunch defender of people’s right to their individual opinions (a quote I read from Voltaire in Freshman Year of high school comes to mind offhand); On that day, I recall myself saying that “People don’t exercise that right enough.” (Here, I wish I could repeat the examples I listed that week. While my stances don’t often change, my memory comes-&-goes like soda cans.)
I believe I’ve covered that side of things enough… For now, at least. Let us look at the other side: When people exercise rights they should (&, I believe, do) not have.
I am, as I said before, a legal adult citizen of the contiguous United States. I graduated high school over a decade ago, & have never been even a suspect in any illegal activity. (As I’ve come to say it, “I regularly watch ‘Person Of Interest’, but have no history of being nor want to become one.”)
After yesterday’s Steelers game, I realized I had the entire week open, & so was considering things I might do this week. (Basically the same list I made earlier.) Before I fell asleep, however, I crossed all possibilities off of my list, thinking I would have to first call & ask a question of my “legal guardian”, requiring me to be home the rest of the day to wait for a call back.
I spent a lot of this afternoon, therefore, “napping”. This is not because I was tired, but because I had forgotten Last Night’s List, & my “guardian” had answered my question when I originally called him this morning.
Part of me is surprised he was available, & actually willing to speak with me personally. Further, part of me is even more surprised (albeit pleasantly so) by some of the answers he gave me. Regardless, the vast majority of me is wondering why I cannot seem to end our connection to each other by the end of this calendar year, & above that, why this connection was ever begun.
As I sit here, it is about 10 minutes after 11 PM on November 25th, 2013. I am sitting in the same county & state I was born in. Before the end of the calendar year, I am facing 2 more birthdays. (Only one of them is mine; The other belongs to either my 3rd nephew or my 1st niece.)
As I approach my birthday (&, coincidentally, the end of the actual calendar) every year, I tend to do some quick Math in my head. I have spent easily 95-plus % of my life in the USA, & I’d estimate an easy 90-plus % in the state of Ohio. I mention all this because it was in the house I grew up in (also in this county, where many of the current residents are “blood relatives”) a few years back that I first spoke of the idea of eventually becoming President. I’ve got about a half-decade before I will be old enough to legally take that position, but since I meet all the other rules &/or requirements, I have not entirely ruled it out.
It was roughly 2 weeks ago I started seriously considering such things more than I have in a long time. I was watching the Steelers play football on TV. (I still remember my best friend telling me that he was a fan of Pittsburgh sports teams over 2 decades ago, & I said the same. Now, he lives in Massachusetts, & while I didn’t become a Steelers fan until we were both in high school, I have no idea what teams he currently supports.)
I started thinking about the remaining majority of my week, most of which was open. I considered spending some of the time at the movies, shopping, or just “killing time” at the local Mall. I figured that if “my” Steelers won that day, I’d possibly wear one of my team shirts wherever I went the next day. I also thought that anyone who supported the team we were then facing could also wear that team’s apparel to the same place the same day no matter the outcome of the game, & neither of us could legally say or do anything to the other claiming the action/speech was spurred by the clothing.
The majority of the time I have seen such things discussed (admittedly, this is most-often fictional series/films), the person(s) claim it is part of their Constitutionally-given “freedom of speech”. This often makes me laugh; While I’m known to say, “You’ll never find a bigger defender of people’s right to their opinion than me”, I take it into account that when exercising their “freedom of speech” in this way, there is very-rarely any speaking actually done.
Around the time of this particular game, it hit me that I have a problem with people exercising this right & others like it. I remain a staunch defender of people’s right to their individual opinions (a quote I read from Voltaire in Freshman Year of high school comes to mind offhand); On that day, I recall myself saying that “People don’t exercise that right enough.” (Here, I wish I could repeat the examples I listed that week. While my stances don’t often change, my memory comes-&-goes like soda cans.)
I believe I’ve covered that side of things enough… For now, at least. Let us look at the other side: When people exercise rights they should (&, I believe, do) not have.
I am, as I said before, a legal adult citizen of the contiguous United States. I graduated high school over a decade ago, & have never been even a suspect in any illegal activity. (As I’ve come to say it, “I regularly watch ‘Person Of Interest’, but have no history of being nor want to become one.”)
After yesterday’s Steelers game, I realized I had the entire week open, & so was considering things I might do this week. (Basically the same list I made earlier.) Before I fell asleep, however, I crossed all possibilities off of my list, thinking I would have to first call & ask a question of my “legal guardian”, requiring me to be home the rest of the day to wait for a call back.
I spent a lot of this afternoon, therefore, “napping”. This is not because I was tired, but because I had forgotten Last Night’s List, & my “guardian” had answered my question when I originally called him this morning.
Part of me is surprised he was available, & actually willing to speak with me personally. Further, part of me is even more surprised (albeit pleasantly so) by some of the answers he gave me. Regardless, the vast majority of me is wondering why I cannot seem to end our connection to each other by the end of this calendar year, & above that, why this connection was ever begun.
2013.12.3
First off, I know I will be (figuratively) “kicking myself” if I do not wish everyone a belated Happy Thanksgiving, “Black Friday”, “Cyber Monday”, & all that jazz. (Also, my condolences seriously go out to anyone who lost a loved one in an occurrence related to any of those.) With that said, let me tell you what I’ve been up to over the time since last blog. I stayed away from the Mall & movies that whole time, spending a little time with my sister & nephews at their house, & most of it here where I still live.
The fact is that, like Harry Chapin used to sing it (& I believe I still have the CD to prove it), “All my life’s a circle.” I stay up late Sunday nights (often to watch repeats of “Burn Notice” or the E! Channel’s wrestling-related show), which is why I then end up sleeping late most Mondays. (Ironically, I missed the opening of last night’s “Monday Night Raw” largely due to watching the show on E! late Sunday night.) While I’ve had one-or-two appointments lately (& more to come; Literally, 3-in-a-row in about 2 weeks), I sleep in most days I am allowed to stay here. (I continue to say how much I hate this place, but when you’re sleeping/”napping”, your eyes are closed, so you largely have no clue where you are.)
Anyway, I say all this to mention I had not yet been able to finish my main two aims for the month of November: Getting a haircut & seeing the new Jason Statham movie, “Homefront.”
This afternoon, I left the apartment at about 3 PM, sure I’d get to the theatre in time for what I remembered as being a 4-something showtime. I reached the mall almost right at 4, & called “Fandango”, sadly my most-often “go-to” destination for movie times. It was then I was told the show had (at some point) moved to 5:20. I passed by the place I get my hair cut, but they were extremely busy. I walked a few laps around the Mall, before leaving the building for the movie theatre around 5:15.
At the ticket counter, I double-checked the film’s showtime. I then asked the ticket-seller for “one to the ‘Homefront’ that just started”. I reached for my ID, only to have him confirm out loud that he’d seen me there before, & knew I was “21”. (“Long as he knows I’m old enough to get in, no need to correct him,” I thought.) He told me (I never asked) I’d “only miss the first few minutes”. Not a problem; Anyone who (like me) is a Statham fan knows his movies are big on action & small on plot/setup anyway.
I go to movies on Tuesdays because the local theaters are cheaper those days; The 2nd-run discounts tickets by a buck, & the other has discounted popcorn (the only movie snack people are allowed when, like me, they are popularly-believed to be Diabetic). The ticket-seller also handed me my ticket-shaped paper that earned me a $2.00 popcorn. (Note I said these theatres are “cheaper” now; There was a time years ago the popcorn for frequent customers like I then was cost nothing; It’s like they’re punishing me because the studios are putting out Vince Vaughn crap & Kevin Spacey is signing series deals solely with Netflix.) I therefore figured my next stop was the concession counter to get the discount snack & some size (diet) soda… Sounds like a fine plan, except I was the only one standing at the counter for long enough to watch many of the most-popular YouTube videos.
With all of that in hand, I walked into the right individual theatre. A quick glance at my watch showed “5:25″. I laughed, thinking I’d mainly missed ads for Sprite & other concessions, which I was either medically-barred-from or already carrying. I walked in, & saw nothing on the screen. Twenty more minutes went by, & still blank. [The "radio" was playing; However, it was largely playing Ariana Grande (I joked to myself her FULL name was "Arian-A Grande Pain"), & bands I'd never heard of, like something by/about a White Buffalo.] Finally, at 5:45, I grabbed my currently-off cell phone out of my pocket, turned it back on, & text-messaged my mother, explaining the situation.
She texted me back, “Sumthin not right”. I simply laughed, saying aloud, “Like I don’t know that,” before calling “Fandango” again. When they gave me the option for the building I was in, I hit the buttons to get the theatre’s phone number. I memorized it, hung-up, & called it. (I reminded myself of the book I’ve already mentioned I read by Kevin Mitnick, as this was like something he often did; I stopped myself before sharing that with the employee who answered, however.)
I told the male employee (still now wondering if he was the ticket-seller) that I was “actually calling you from inside your building. I’m in the theater that’s supposedly showing ‘Homefront’, but it’s a half-hour past start time, & there’s still nothing on the screen”. He said he’d “let them know”. Soon, some woman came in, looked at the screen for a few minutes actual time (like she expected that would change it, ala a “Jedi mind trick”), & then looked at me & thanked me for letting them know.
A young man (one of only two other audience members) who had headed out of the “screening” before seeing me on the phone thanked me before heading past me on the way back to his seat. I laughed, honestly responding, “No problem; I just wondered, ‘What would happen if I called them from them?’, & I had to try it!”
Sure enough, the movie started (with the White Buffalo song still playing over it about 10 seconds more). I usually leave the second the end-credits start, thinking, “I’ll IMDB it” about any questions I might have about the cast/crew. I stayed for the first minute-or-so of these, however, perhaps expecting a bonus animated flick or something to repay us for not leaving in the wasted half-hour. (Blame “The Amazing Spider-Man”, which I still can’t find available on DVD in 3-D, the way I saw it in the theatre, & which also had a few more minutes after the last credit ran.)
First off, I know I will be (figuratively) “kicking myself” if I do not wish everyone a belated Happy Thanksgiving, “Black Friday”, “Cyber Monday”, & all that jazz. (Also, my condolences seriously go out to anyone who lost a loved one in an occurrence related to any of those.) With that said, let me tell you what I’ve been up to over the time since last blog. I stayed away from the Mall & movies that whole time, spending a little time with my sister & nephews at their house, & most of it here where I still live.
The fact is that, like Harry Chapin used to sing it (& I believe I still have the CD to prove it), “All my life’s a circle.” I stay up late Sunday nights (often to watch repeats of “Burn Notice” or the E! Channel’s wrestling-related show), which is why I then end up sleeping late most Mondays. (Ironically, I missed the opening of last night’s “Monday Night Raw” largely due to watching the show on E! late Sunday night.) While I’ve had one-or-two appointments lately (& more to come; Literally, 3-in-a-row in about 2 weeks), I sleep in most days I am allowed to stay here. (I continue to say how much I hate this place, but when you’re sleeping/”napping”, your eyes are closed, so you largely have no clue where you are.)
Anyway, I say all this to mention I had not yet been able to finish my main two aims for the month of November: Getting a haircut & seeing the new Jason Statham movie, “Homefront.”
This afternoon, I left the apartment at about 3 PM, sure I’d get to the theatre in time for what I remembered as being a 4-something showtime. I reached the mall almost right at 4, & called “Fandango”, sadly my most-often “go-to” destination for movie times. It was then I was told the show had (at some point) moved to 5:20. I passed by the place I get my hair cut, but they were extremely busy. I walked a few laps around the Mall, before leaving the building for the movie theatre around 5:15.
At the ticket counter, I double-checked the film’s showtime. I then asked the ticket-seller for “one to the ‘Homefront’ that just started”. I reached for my ID, only to have him confirm out loud that he’d seen me there before, & knew I was “21”. (“Long as he knows I’m old enough to get in, no need to correct him,” I thought.) He told me (I never asked) I’d “only miss the first few minutes”. Not a problem; Anyone who (like me) is a Statham fan knows his movies are big on action & small on plot/setup anyway.
I go to movies on Tuesdays because the local theaters are cheaper those days; The 2nd-run discounts tickets by a buck, & the other has discounted popcorn (the only movie snack people are allowed when, like me, they are popularly-believed to be Diabetic). The ticket-seller also handed me my ticket-shaped paper that earned me a $2.00 popcorn. (Note I said these theatres are “cheaper” now; There was a time years ago the popcorn for frequent customers like I then was cost nothing; It’s like they’re punishing me because the studios are putting out Vince Vaughn crap & Kevin Spacey is signing series deals solely with Netflix.) I therefore figured my next stop was the concession counter to get the discount snack & some size (diet) soda… Sounds like a fine plan, except I was the only one standing at the counter for long enough to watch many of the most-popular YouTube videos.
With all of that in hand, I walked into the right individual theatre. A quick glance at my watch showed “5:25″. I laughed, thinking I’d mainly missed ads for Sprite & other concessions, which I was either medically-barred-from or already carrying. I walked in, & saw nothing on the screen. Twenty more minutes went by, & still blank. [The "radio" was playing; However, it was largely playing Ariana Grande (I joked to myself her FULL name was "Arian-A Grande Pain"), & bands I'd never heard of, like something by/about a White Buffalo.] Finally, at 5:45, I grabbed my currently-off cell phone out of my pocket, turned it back on, & text-messaged my mother, explaining the situation.
She texted me back, “Sumthin not right”. I simply laughed, saying aloud, “Like I don’t know that,” before calling “Fandango” again. When they gave me the option for the building I was in, I hit the buttons to get the theatre’s phone number. I memorized it, hung-up, & called it. (I reminded myself of the book I’ve already mentioned I read by Kevin Mitnick, as this was like something he often did; I stopped myself before sharing that with the employee who answered, however.)
I told the male employee (still now wondering if he was the ticket-seller) that I was “actually calling you from inside your building. I’m in the theater that’s supposedly showing ‘Homefront’, but it’s a half-hour past start time, & there’s still nothing on the screen”. He said he’d “let them know”. Soon, some woman came in, looked at the screen for a few minutes actual time (like she expected that would change it, ala a “Jedi mind trick”), & then looked at me & thanked me for letting them know.
A young man (one of only two other audience members) who had headed out of the “screening” before seeing me on the phone thanked me before heading past me on the way back to his seat. I laughed, honestly responding, “No problem; I just wondered, ‘What would happen if I called them from them?’, & I had to try it!”
Sure enough, the movie started (with the White Buffalo song still playing over it about 10 seconds more). I usually leave the second the end-credits start, thinking, “I’ll IMDB it” about any questions I might have about the cast/crew. I stayed for the first minute-or-so of these, however, perhaps expecting a bonus animated flick or something to repay us for not leaving in the wasted half-hour. (Blame “The Amazing Spider-Man”, which I still can’t find available on DVD in 3-D, the way I saw it in the theatre, & which also had a few more minutes after the last credit ran.)
2013.12.10
So, here we are… We’ve officially reached what everyone around me seems to designate “the holiday season”. Ads all over the paper & TV for their gift-&-related sales, trees that have lost their leaves but are covered in lights & plastic balls, many of the people I E-mail or contact on Twitter sending me actual, hold-able cards via “snail mail”… And all that…
I almost typed “all that good stuff”. To be honest, though, it’s not really all that good for me. Not only did I take a Latin class over a decade ago, which ruined the idea of celebrating it in Winter for me (much the way Emmy-winner Jim Parsons does here),… But I happen to be one of those people who has a birthday in-between Thanksgiving & Christmas. (Not saying I rank anywhere near deities on any list made by anyone, but my birthday & the holiday each bring-about the idea of gift-giving; For years, my Aunt would ask weeks beforehand what I wanted for Christmas, & my stock answer was some version of “Whatever I don’t get for my birthday.”)
Subtract my birthday & all holidays from the remainder of this year’s calendar, though. (It only exists metaphorically for me anyway, outside of me keeping my appointment cards on a counter in chronological order, including those for 2014.) In the next 24 hours, I will have either my 3rd nephew or my first niece somewhere in the county. (I don’t know why I chose to write it that way; They will be born in the same hospital as my sister, 2 nephews, & Grammy-winner Dave Grohl, but not in the city I live in now.) As I said to Mom about an hour ago, I believe my younger nephew to have a closer connection to me than his older brother did at the same exact age, which can only bode well for the yet-to-come child… So why was I sitting in the adjoining room last night, debating if I wanted to live even 1 more day?!
I think I covered this all before, even just on this site. However, in case I haven’t, let’s cover it all (perhaps again). It comes down not to anything I’ve done, but to what I haven’t done: I am a legal adult in any “state of the Union”, as well as a legal citizen of the same county & state I write this blog in. [Unlike Bret Hart & his niece, both of whom I watched on TV last night, I've never done a legal "job" in my life (nor the illegal type as seen on "Leverage"). However, I was naturally born in this county in every sense of the word/phrase.] Outside of perhaps jaywalking down a nearby street (often right past police cars), I have never committed a crime, or been any type of suspect. I have spoken right out loud several times the idea of running for local or national office, & have yet to rule it out. Even so, I sit within eyes’ view of several pieces of proof that other adults (ironically, those with jobs as attorneys, judges, & others in the legal “realm”) have more control over several key parts of my life than I do. It’s only been that way for about a year; However, that’s at least 10 months longer than it should have been.
In truth, this all starts back about a dozen years ago. Around the middle of the actual year 2001 (perhaps I should blame Kubrick?!), I was diagnosed with a disease I still refuse to say I have. As it was far-more-recently explained to me (about a week ago), the reason these other people have control over key aspects of my life is because I “refuse to admit” I have it. On the contrary, I admit to any who ask (& some who don’t) I have not spent a single second in a college class or law school, & therefore get my entire legal knowledge from watching court-related shows. (Today was the first in a long time, but one of literally thousands, of days I had Breakfast while watching “Judge Mathis”.) However, I was (until this case/situation) cognizant/aware of the fact I still find myself relying on that courts rely on evidence in the vast majority of cases, & that the “burden of proof” &/or need to prove things relies on the one claiming it is/they are so. There is not a person in any US State or territory that has ever seen proof I have this not-named-here disease, which is one reason I claim that even if I wanted to, it’d be impossible to “admit” I have it.
It seems to me that this is just a situation of some sort of a “train of thought” being (let’s kill a metaphor) thrown into “Reverse”… I’ve long seen/read/heard, “Be careful what you wish for; You just might get it”. Here, I was not wishing for anything; Simply relying on something I’d long been told was true, but never needed to find out if it truly was or not. When I actually find a situation where it would benefit me, it turns out not to be true at all.
Reading the clock on/at the corner of the screen, I see it is a time when many things/offices/companies in this county are probably closed. However, I got the phone number of the local court that handles my case/situation off of its Website last night (which also had a picture of the same judge that signed the paperwork pertaining to my case/situation), so I may still call them before my next birthday, & see if I can’t change something besides my age, clothes, & the length of my hair before the year’s out.
So, here we are… We’ve officially reached what everyone around me seems to designate “the holiday season”. Ads all over the paper & TV for their gift-&-related sales, trees that have lost their leaves but are covered in lights & plastic balls, many of the people I E-mail or contact on Twitter sending me actual, hold-able cards via “snail mail”… And all that…
I almost typed “all that good stuff”. To be honest, though, it’s not really all that good for me. Not only did I take a Latin class over a decade ago, which ruined the idea of celebrating it in Winter for me (much the way Emmy-winner Jim Parsons does here),… But I happen to be one of those people who has a birthday in-between Thanksgiving & Christmas. (Not saying I rank anywhere near deities on any list made by anyone, but my birthday & the holiday each bring-about the idea of gift-giving; For years, my Aunt would ask weeks beforehand what I wanted for Christmas, & my stock answer was some version of “Whatever I don’t get for my birthday.”)
Subtract my birthday & all holidays from the remainder of this year’s calendar, though. (It only exists metaphorically for me anyway, outside of me keeping my appointment cards on a counter in chronological order, including those for 2014.) In the next 24 hours, I will have either my 3rd nephew or my first niece somewhere in the county. (I don’t know why I chose to write it that way; They will be born in the same hospital as my sister, 2 nephews, & Grammy-winner Dave Grohl, but not in the city I live in now.) As I said to Mom about an hour ago, I believe my younger nephew to have a closer connection to me than his older brother did at the same exact age, which can only bode well for the yet-to-come child… So why was I sitting in the adjoining room last night, debating if I wanted to live even 1 more day?!
I think I covered this all before, even just on this site. However, in case I haven’t, let’s cover it all (perhaps again). It comes down not to anything I’ve done, but to what I haven’t done: I am a legal adult in any “state of the Union”, as well as a legal citizen of the same county & state I write this blog in. [Unlike Bret Hart & his niece, both of whom I watched on TV last night, I've never done a legal "job" in my life (nor the illegal type as seen on "Leverage"). However, I was naturally born in this county in every sense of the word/phrase.] Outside of perhaps jaywalking down a nearby street (often right past police cars), I have never committed a crime, or been any type of suspect. I have spoken right out loud several times the idea of running for local or national office, & have yet to rule it out. Even so, I sit within eyes’ view of several pieces of proof that other adults (ironically, those with jobs as attorneys, judges, & others in the legal “realm”) have more control over several key parts of my life than I do. It’s only been that way for about a year; However, that’s at least 10 months longer than it should have been.
In truth, this all starts back about a dozen years ago. Around the middle of the actual year 2001 (perhaps I should blame Kubrick?!), I was diagnosed with a disease I still refuse to say I have. As it was far-more-recently explained to me (about a week ago), the reason these other people have control over key aspects of my life is because I “refuse to admit” I have it. On the contrary, I admit to any who ask (& some who don’t) I have not spent a single second in a college class or law school, & therefore get my entire legal knowledge from watching court-related shows. (Today was the first in a long time, but one of literally thousands, of days I had Breakfast while watching “Judge Mathis”.) However, I was (until this case/situation) cognizant/aware of the fact I still find myself relying on that courts rely on evidence in the vast majority of cases, & that the “burden of proof” &/or need to prove things relies on the one claiming it is/they are so. There is not a person in any US State or territory that has ever seen proof I have this not-named-here disease, which is one reason I claim that even if I wanted to, it’d be impossible to “admit” I have it.
It seems to me that this is just a situation of some sort of a “train of thought” being (let’s kill a metaphor) thrown into “Reverse”… I’ve long seen/read/heard, “Be careful what you wish for; You just might get it”. Here, I was not wishing for anything; Simply relying on something I’d long been told was true, but never needed to find out if it truly was or not. When I actually find a situation where it would benefit me, it turns out not to be true at all.
Reading the clock on/at the corner of the screen, I see it is a time when many things/offices/companies in this county are probably closed. However, I got the phone number of the local court that handles my case/situation off of its Website last night (which also had a picture of the same judge that signed the paperwork pertaining to my case/situation), so I may still call them before my next birthday, & see if I can’t change something besides my age, clothes, & the length of my hair before the year’s out.
2013.12.25
Well, we’re now really in the holiday season. I finally got a good percentage of my Christmas shopping done yesterday. (Sometimes “living Improv” means you do things last-minute!) I also recently got back from a visit at my sister’s (to see both nephews & the new niece), while also being invited to come again tomorrow with the gifts I bought for all of them.
Anyhow, the fact is I haven’t seen a lot of my family (“immediate” or “extended”) since the last blog. (Still debating meeting with my Mom’s side of the family tonight, prepared for many of them to tell me “Merry Christmas” & “Happy Birthday” about in the same breath!) Regardless, I present to all my readers a possible gift list…
…To be a bit different, however, this will not be of anything to get me for my birthday or Christmas, as they will not be things that you could likely find in any store. Even so, they are things I would be very interested in seeing in the New Year (or-so) that I believe many of us would benefit from. (Don’t worry; I’ll limit myself to a maximum of 10, so you can count them down instead of watching the already-seen-too-much Ryan Seacrest take over basically solo for Dick Clark next week.)
1] “Truth In Advertising” = I heard about this years ago, & so have long assumed it (& laws to require it) actually existed. However, I think it (like the “right” to marry) should be extended across the country in various ways & situations. For instance, I recently watched a TV performance by a group known as the Avett Brothers. I loved it (to the point I watched it when the episode repeated, when I rarely watch Jimmy Fallon’s show once a week)!! When introducing the group, Jimmy announced they were performing alongside Chris Cornell, whose name I knew from bands he was in previously. What makes them violate this rule/idea is that I recently read an article in Rolling Stone about them that goes out of its way to mention the other members of their band that performed with them that night, as well as several other nights before & since! I don’t mind that (I know Tom Petty & other artists play multiple instruments on their albums through multi-track recording & things, but can’t do so live in Cleveland or Pittsburgh), but when it bothers me is people like Justin Bieber, who we all know can’t play a note on anything! (I realize this might seem mean since I grew-up a drummer, so I technically didn’t play a note either… But I’ll loan Bieber my old sticks next time he’s in Cleveland, & personally induct him into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame if he knows how to use them as well as I do.)
2] Bands Reunited, etc.= Not saying I want to see the return of this show to VH1 (though I wouldn’t be against the old seasons being put out on DVD). What I want rather, starts with the end, for instance, of things like I heard about on that show, where the female from the group Berlin (I think it was) continued to tour years later under that name when she was the only original member still in the performing group. Also, I would love to see 98 Degrees get back together as I read they did earlier this week. (Anyone else see the irony of the host of “The Sing-Off” being another guy who famously sings but doesn’t play anything?!) However, before they sign on for a tour, add this caveat: They (like recent reunite-ers New Kids On The Block) can no longer be advertised as a band (due to my aforementioned “Truth In Advertising” bit), & since they would not be touring to support a new recording, Nick will be singing under his new name “Nick Minnillo”, as his wife still has a show actively airing on Fox’s schedule, & is therefore more “actively famous” than he is. (Much the way Pau Gasol is more “actively famous” than Kobe right now, since Bryant can’t stand up without the rest of the team ironically supporting him.)
3] “The End Of Presumption” = This, contrary to #1, refers to something I long believed did not exist, but have come to find out exists perhaps beyond nationwide. [In fact, it may refer to both of the previous, as when we hear someone has the “top-selling” album, we might have once assumed they could play an instrument. Likewise, when Jay Leno says his guest “stars in the #1 movie in the country”, we might assume they are an actor. When people like the group One Direction or comic Kevin Hart (also currently a star of a reality show) are the previously-described stars, however, that is not the case.] A Google search tells me it may have been as many as 8 years ago this first began to occur to me: A local man that was a friend of my father’s was charged with a crime. Fast as a finger-snap, that man’s name was never mentioned again in our house. I don’t think anyone had spoken it for years prior, but that fast, you dared not say it on the property, or risk something akin to an “evil eye” from any other family member. Reading my prior blogs will show the same thing bothers me more now with people assuming everything my doctors have claimed about me is the truth, even though we all admit my doctors are as human (& therefore, I say, as prone & likely to make mistakes) as anyone else.
I had more of these mere hours ago… But my “improv” deal & my memory seem to be linked these days, as ideas disappear minutes later. (That’s why I have a text message saved in my phone’s “Drafts” for a writing project I don’t plan to begin until 2014.) Hence, I titled this as “Part 1″ when it may turn out to be all of it.
Well, we’re now really in the holiday season. I finally got a good percentage of my Christmas shopping done yesterday. (Sometimes “living Improv” means you do things last-minute!) I also recently got back from a visit at my sister’s (to see both nephews & the new niece), while also being invited to come again tomorrow with the gifts I bought for all of them.
Anyhow, the fact is I haven’t seen a lot of my family (“immediate” or “extended”) since the last blog. (Still debating meeting with my Mom’s side of the family tonight, prepared for many of them to tell me “Merry Christmas” & “Happy Birthday” about in the same breath!) Regardless, I present to all my readers a possible gift list…
…To be a bit different, however, this will not be of anything to get me for my birthday or Christmas, as they will not be things that you could likely find in any store. Even so, they are things I would be very interested in seeing in the New Year (or-so) that I believe many of us would benefit from. (Don’t worry; I’ll limit myself to a maximum of 10, so you can count them down instead of watching the already-seen-too-much Ryan Seacrest take over basically solo for Dick Clark next week.)
1] “Truth In Advertising” = I heard about this years ago, & so have long assumed it (& laws to require it) actually existed. However, I think it (like the “right” to marry) should be extended across the country in various ways & situations. For instance, I recently watched a TV performance by a group known as the Avett Brothers. I loved it (to the point I watched it when the episode repeated, when I rarely watch Jimmy Fallon’s show once a week)!! When introducing the group, Jimmy announced they were performing alongside Chris Cornell, whose name I knew from bands he was in previously. What makes them violate this rule/idea is that I recently read an article in Rolling Stone about them that goes out of its way to mention the other members of their band that performed with them that night, as well as several other nights before & since! I don’t mind that (I know Tom Petty & other artists play multiple instruments on their albums through multi-track recording & things, but can’t do so live in Cleveland or Pittsburgh), but when it bothers me is people like Justin Bieber, who we all know can’t play a note on anything! (I realize this might seem mean since I grew-up a drummer, so I technically didn’t play a note either… But I’ll loan Bieber my old sticks next time he’s in Cleveland, & personally induct him into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame if he knows how to use them as well as I do.)
2] Bands Reunited, etc.= Not saying I want to see the return of this show to VH1 (though I wouldn’t be against the old seasons being put out on DVD). What I want rather, starts with the end, for instance, of things like I heard about on that show, where the female from the group Berlin (I think it was) continued to tour years later under that name when she was the only original member still in the performing group. Also, I would love to see 98 Degrees get back together as I read they did earlier this week. (Anyone else see the irony of the host of “The Sing-Off” being another guy who famously sings but doesn’t play anything?!) However, before they sign on for a tour, add this caveat: They (like recent reunite-ers New Kids On The Block) can no longer be advertised as a band (due to my aforementioned “Truth In Advertising” bit), & since they would not be touring to support a new recording, Nick will be singing under his new name “Nick Minnillo”, as his wife still has a show actively airing on Fox’s schedule, & is therefore more “actively famous” than he is. (Much the way Pau Gasol is more “actively famous” than Kobe right now, since Bryant can’t stand up without the rest of the team ironically supporting him.)
3] “The End Of Presumption” = This, contrary to #1, refers to something I long believed did not exist, but have come to find out exists perhaps beyond nationwide. [In fact, it may refer to both of the previous, as when we hear someone has the “top-selling” album, we might have once assumed they could play an instrument. Likewise, when Jay Leno says his guest “stars in the #1 movie in the country”, we might assume they are an actor. When people like the group One Direction or comic Kevin Hart (also currently a star of a reality show) are the previously-described stars, however, that is not the case.] A Google search tells me it may have been as many as 8 years ago this first began to occur to me: A local man that was a friend of my father’s was charged with a crime. Fast as a finger-snap, that man’s name was never mentioned again in our house. I don’t think anyone had spoken it for years prior, but that fast, you dared not say it on the property, or risk something akin to an “evil eye” from any other family member. Reading my prior blogs will show the same thing bothers me more now with people assuming everything my doctors have claimed about me is the truth, even though we all admit my doctors are as human (& therefore, I say, as prone & likely to make mistakes) as anyone else.
I had more of these mere hours ago… But my “improv” deal & my memory seem to be linked these days, as ideas disappear minutes later. (That’s why I have a text message saved in my phone’s “Drafts” for a writing project I don’t plan to begin until 2014.) Hence, I titled this as “Part 1″ when it may turn out to be all of it.
2014.1.7
Note: This blog is being written without the consent of “The Elite 1E”, “Dustberg”, or the other members of the status-currently-unknown “Elite Wrestling Federation” once based in Howland/Warren, Ohio… Except “The Wildman”, AKA the author/blogger himself. (I did seek it from the others, but was unable to get a response in time.)
I’ve done some quick mental Math about an hour ago, and discovered that I apparently started my Freshman Year of high school in 1997. While that was after some claim to have “invented the Internet” (Google tells me “WebTV” was invented the year before), my immediate family was behind a lot of my friends in areas related to several media & other things. (The top 2 of my All-Time 3 favorite bands in order are also chronologically in order of their conception; 1 & 2 both released albums before I was born; & While 1 member of #1 is deceased, only #3 has publically called it quits.)
Anyhow, let me “break away” from that part of things for a minute, & just state the fact that I spent much of my high school career attending what I’ve long called “alternative schooling”. Due to health issues that may still remain partially-undefined (over a decade since graduation), I attended some of Freshman Year, most of Sophomore Year, & all of Junior Year away from the actual school buildings. (Makes me laugh to think of it now; I went to the same “primary school” my nephew does, & the elementary school I attended still exists, named after the street it’s on, the same street that contains the apartment complex where I now live & type this blog.)
My relationship with my father has changed a lot over the years, even though I estimate half of the county knows me primarily due to my connection with him. Regardless, it’s a simple statement of fact that a lot of what I’ve gotten from him over the years has cost either/both of us $0.00. (He bought me my first-ever CD, “Fairweather Johnson” by Hootie & The Blowfish. I also got a “Greatest Hits” CD by Elton John from him, which I begged him for due to “Rocket Man” being stuck in my head for days before he mentioned receiving it from his Columbia House membership.)
The reason I mention this is for quite some time, though my parents were divorced & he lived in another residence, he regularly brought over copies of Entertainment Weekly. I would read much of them before they were eventually tossed. One of my favorite parts (which they seem to have stopped including) was something I believe was called, “Opening Lines”. In it, they would include staff favorites of the opening lines of new books.
One night, I was sitting on my bed & watching TV, with a laptop I’d received from Dad on my lap. (I don’t think he ever told me how he’d gotten it.) As some show on MTV ended, I told myself I was going to try & write a fictional story, beginning by attempting one of those “Opening Lines”. I did it, altering my own first name only slightly into “Tom” mid-sentence, & thinking I had created the real-sounding surname McGowan. (Imagine my shock a few years later watching the credits at the end of “Frasier”, & seeing this man’s name; I still shudder & get taken from the story for a few minutes when I see him in anything.)
Since my “alternative schooling” left me with plenty of open time, I spent a lot of the next few years writing fictional stories. [If you have the time, & feel like it, you can find my online history all over, much of it written under the name "TJChurch". This was/is my original self-given pseudonym, simply combining my first 2 initials (with one period after the grouping) with my real last name.]
After taking so much of a “Summer vacation” when I left school Sophomore Year, I convinced myself that (actual) Summer I was going to try to go back to Howland High School. (No big feat, really; I had taken two “Acting For Teens” Classes recently at Packard Music Hall, & had been at the school many evenings to hear my older sister in the band/choir.) I was further convinced I could do this by the fact the aforementioned sister had convinced me to join her in trying out for the local “Summer Stock” program that year. (She had also done so the previous year, resulting that time in me playing numerous parts in a traveling show.)
I indeed went back, in essence replacing my now-alumnus sister in the Band, Choir, & Speech-&-Debate Team. (I also attempted some “one-upsmanship” by adding the school paper & “Pep Band”.) In retrospect, I consider my return easier due to the facts that the Seniors (often considered Kings/Queens of the school) were mostly longtime friends of mine, & nobody else had any prior memories of me to think about/compare to what they now saw.
It was my Senior Year in band that brought me into a group I learned was called “the EWF”. It included then-Freshmen Eric Baker (referred to as “the Elite 1E”), Dustin Dickerson (called “Dustberg”), & Jason Valenti (forget what his name was now), among a few others.
As I recall, the “Federation” was some sort of “backyard wrestling” group. [As I said, lack of memories of me made things easier; I still believe I left the school largely due to being blocked from sports (& Marching Band) by Cleveland Clinic doctors in the Spring of Freshman Year. Local cardiologists allowed me to return prior to Senior Year starting.] I’m not sure if they ever actually had matches, but we all had fictional biographies on its Website. (It was on Angelfire, & I still recall the address, but attempts to go there now tell me, “We couldn’t find the page you requested. Please check the URL and try again.”)
When I left high school again, this time with my diploma, I aimed for a way to continue doing what I had done in the EWF. (It’s now popularly called “role-playing” or “RPing” for short, though it was far before “World of Warcraft” & the like, & honestly, not much similar in comparison.) Since I was out of school (college plans fell through due to further health issues), it shocked me when the next Fall came, & the people I had been RPing with online all Summer seemed to be doing it far less often. (It finally hit me that school had begun again nationwide.)
I therefore went back to having a ton of open time, & continued writing fictional stories. I found (or so I recall/believe) that my creativity being accessed for my “E-fed” RPing led to better work in my other writing. [By now, this also included lyrics to songs (though I still have trouble writing the songs note-wise on a staff), fully-realized when I completed my first original musical just over 12 years ago. It remains my hope to perform it on the same Summer Stock stage my sister & I co-starred on right before my Senior Year.]
Any day now, I hope to buy a new computer. (No guarantees; I’ve said that for months, & Ma says “frostbite” warnings won’t even allow me to get out for grocery-shopping today.) When I do, I then hope to continue several writing projects that I have (both in my head & physically “lying around”), many of which I have delayed actually starting until I am able to type them in full. (My current cell phone, now within arm’s reach, has one text message on it saved in my “Drafts” folder which will never be sent to anyone, but is to/for myself about a character in my next-to-be-written musical project.)
Also, if my writing largely remains unpublished in 5-6 years, I am recently trying to contact Angelfire to regain control & update it, but here is the old page for the career I will be attempting then. (Note the URL/address; It was originally used for something similar to “blogging” & other things, & created not long after I left HHS & the EWF.)
Note: The “good people” at Angelfire/Lycos were very quick & kind in their response to me, so I have regained control of my old page, & updated it. (Feel free to simply take the link; It has a link right back to this page!)
Note: This blog is being written without the consent of “The Elite 1E”, “Dustberg”, or the other members of the status-currently-unknown “Elite Wrestling Federation” once based in Howland/Warren, Ohio… Except “The Wildman”, AKA the author/blogger himself. (I did seek it from the others, but was unable to get a response in time.)
I’ve done some quick mental Math about an hour ago, and discovered that I apparently started my Freshman Year of high school in 1997. While that was after some claim to have “invented the Internet” (Google tells me “WebTV” was invented the year before), my immediate family was behind a lot of my friends in areas related to several media & other things. (The top 2 of my All-Time 3 favorite bands in order are also chronologically in order of their conception; 1 & 2 both released albums before I was born; & While 1 member of #1 is deceased, only #3 has publically called it quits.)
Anyhow, let me “break away” from that part of things for a minute, & just state the fact that I spent much of my high school career attending what I’ve long called “alternative schooling”. Due to health issues that may still remain partially-undefined (over a decade since graduation), I attended some of Freshman Year, most of Sophomore Year, & all of Junior Year away from the actual school buildings. (Makes me laugh to think of it now; I went to the same “primary school” my nephew does, & the elementary school I attended still exists, named after the street it’s on, the same street that contains the apartment complex where I now live & type this blog.)
My relationship with my father has changed a lot over the years, even though I estimate half of the county knows me primarily due to my connection with him. Regardless, it’s a simple statement of fact that a lot of what I’ve gotten from him over the years has cost either/both of us $0.00. (He bought me my first-ever CD, “Fairweather Johnson” by Hootie & The Blowfish. I also got a “Greatest Hits” CD by Elton John from him, which I begged him for due to “Rocket Man” being stuck in my head for days before he mentioned receiving it from his Columbia House membership.)
The reason I mention this is for quite some time, though my parents were divorced & he lived in another residence, he regularly brought over copies of Entertainment Weekly. I would read much of them before they were eventually tossed. One of my favorite parts (which they seem to have stopped including) was something I believe was called, “Opening Lines”. In it, they would include staff favorites of the opening lines of new books.
One night, I was sitting on my bed & watching TV, with a laptop I’d received from Dad on my lap. (I don’t think he ever told me how he’d gotten it.) As some show on MTV ended, I told myself I was going to try & write a fictional story, beginning by attempting one of those “Opening Lines”. I did it, altering my own first name only slightly into “Tom” mid-sentence, & thinking I had created the real-sounding surname McGowan. (Imagine my shock a few years later watching the credits at the end of “Frasier”, & seeing this man’s name; I still shudder & get taken from the story for a few minutes when I see him in anything.)
Since my “alternative schooling” left me with plenty of open time, I spent a lot of the next few years writing fictional stories. [If you have the time, & feel like it, you can find my online history all over, much of it written under the name "TJChurch". This was/is my original self-given pseudonym, simply combining my first 2 initials (with one period after the grouping) with my real last name.]
After taking so much of a “Summer vacation” when I left school Sophomore Year, I convinced myself that (actual) Summer I was going to try to go back to Howland High School. (No big feat, really; I had taken two “Acting For Teens” Classes recently at Packard Music Hall, & had been at the school many evenings to hear my older sister in the band/choir.) I was further convinced I could do this by the fact the aforementioned sister had convinced me to join her in trying out for the local “Summer Stock” program that year. (She had also done so the previous year, resulting that time in me playing numerous parts in a traveling show.)
I indeed went back, in essence replacing my now-alumnus sister in the Band, Choir, & Speech-&-Debate Team. (I also attempted some “one-upsmanship” by adding the school paper & “Pep Band”.) In retrospect, I consider my return easier due to the facts that the Seniors (often considered Kings/Queens of the school) were mostly longtime friends of mine, & nobody else had any prior memories of me to think about/compare to what they now saw.
It was my Senior Year in band that brought me into a group I learned was called “the EWF”. It included then-Freshmen Eric Baker (referred to as “the Elite 1E”), Dustin Dickerson (called “Dustberg”), & Jason Valenti (forget what his name was now), among a few others.
As I recall, the “Federation” was some sort of “backyard wrestling” group. [As I said, lack of memories of me made things easier; I still believe I left the school largely due to being blocked from sports (& Marching Band) by Cleveland Clinic doctors in the Spring of Freshman Year. Local cardiologists allowed me to return prior to Senior Year starting.] I’m not sure if they ever actually had matches, but we all had fictional biographies on its Website. (It was on Angelfire, & I still recall the address, but attempts to go there now tell me, “We couldn’t find the page you requested. Please check the URL and try again.”)
When I left high school again, this time with my diploma, I aimed for a way to continue doing what I had done in the EWF. (It’s now popularly called “role-playing” or “RPing” for short, though it was far before “World of Warcraft” & the like, & honestly, not much similar in comparison.) Since I was out of school (college plans fell through due to further health issues), it shocked me when the next Fall came, & the people I had been RPing with online all Summer seemed to be doing it far less often. (It finally hit me that school had begun again nationwide.)
I therefore went back to having a ton of open time, & continued writing fictional stories. I found (or so I recall/believe) that my creativity being accessed for my “E-fed” RPing led to better work in my other writing. [By now, this also included lyrics to songs (though I still have trouble writing the songs note-wise on a staff), fully-realized when I completed my first original musical just over 12 years ago. It remains my hope to perform it on the same Summer Stock stage my sister & I co-starred on right before my Senior Year.]
Any day now, I hope to buy a new computer. (No guarantees; I’ve said that for months, & Ma says “frostbite” warnings won’t even allow me to get out for grocery-shopping today.) When I do, I then hope to continue several writing projects that I have (both in my head & physically “lying around”), many of which I have delayed actually starting until I am able to type them in full. (My current cell phone, now within arm’s reach, has one text message on it saved in my “Drafts” folder which will never be sent to anyone, but is to/for myself about a character in my next-to-be-written musical project.)
Also, if my writing largely remains unpublished in 5-6 years, I am recently trying to contact Angelfire to regain control & update it, but here is the old page for the career I will be attempting then. (Note the URL/address; It was originally used for something similar to “blogging” & other things, & created not long after I left HHS & the EWF.)
Note: The “good people” at Angelfire/Lycos were very quick & kind in their response to me, so I have regained control of my old page, & updated it. (Feel free to simply take the link; It has a link right back to this page!)
2014.1.22
So, if you “follow” my Twitter “feed“, you know I made a quick note on New Year’s Eve about not making any resolutions. However, for the same reason, you also know I promised that this past weekend (decently-in to the New Year, some might say) was a big one in my history. Let me start this blog off by explaining that to anyone who may be unaware & curious. (Or just one or the other, let alone neither.)
In order to explain why I’m celebrating a “New Year” 3 weeks late, I have to actually go back a bit more than a year. Join me in the Wayback Machine, & let’s head back to mid-December of 2012.
It was my birthday, & I spent a lot of it with my Mom, sister, brother-in-law, & my 2 nephews over at their house (also the one I grew up in). (Understand, as a side-note of sorts that I would’ve also spent it with my niece, but she wasn’t born for about another year.) Mom & I came home, & I spent the next few days doing a lot of the same stuff I do now: Watching TV &/or DVDs, reading my mail, & “tweeting”. (I do it a ton, but I hope that doing that helps me discover/create a better word for it; “Tweeting” is what I hear from those stupid birds on may way into the movie theater.)
Eventually, it was about the 19th of December. I had a whole lot of open time, which is something I continue to feel internally-conflicted about: On the one hand, I don’t have to see any of my doctors (or other assured “authority figures” I’m outright expected to listen-to & trust). On the other, I have literally nothing hinted/suggested-at for me to do. (I have no guarantee on this, but I believe it’s times like these my friend Jon decides to make the video we watched in Theatrics of him skydiving, or Vince McMahon to create the XFL.)
Like many shows, “Burn Notice” was on a break seemingly for the holidays. One thing I have come to recall & appreciate about that show is it never has an ending with a bunch of slow climaxing right up until the final minute; The “case of the week” often ends 5 minutes before the individual episode, & the final piece will include some person or thing (maybe both) that will be the tie-in to the next episode. Probably in large part due to much of my family lumping the holidays together (I only recently voiced my displeasure for the closeness of New Year’s- & Christmas-related things, but some relatives begin asking for potential Christmas gifts if you visit them for Halloween), I laid on the couch (where I have honestly spent much of the past month), & started watching recent episodes “On-Demand”, hoping I would be ready when it returned.
Mom, meanwhile, was spending time with my sister & my Aunt. I clearly & understandably have no clue what they said or did together. Eventually, though, it was obvious Mom was watching my nephews, as Jen & Aunt Shirley showed-up here. I also have no recall on the conversation, but it ended with the two of them deciding one would call 911. Eventually, I was in an ambulance, which took me to Trumbull Memorial Hospital. (If I had the proverbial nickel for each time I’ve talked/written about this place!! In addition to being the birthplace of me, Jen, both nephews, & my niece, I have spent enough time in there that I’ve discussed with many staff the possibility/likelihood of them eventually naming a section after me.)
While I’ve spent a ton of time inside the hospital, it seems that I’ve spent a steadily-increasing amount in/on what the staff refer to only as “3 South”, which I will tell you is flat-out a mental ward. [I chalk it up to a line I once heard on a Jason Statham DVD. but can never recall precisely about there being "a fine line between genius & crazy". For years, it has bothered me that unlike (for instance) cancer, there is no way to be sure if you have "crazy" or not... It appears to be a "judgment-call" deal; I have differing thoughts from others on a ton of things. I have no problem with their assuming themselves to be correct; What gets me is their assumption that I am on the latter side of the line, whereas I believe myself to be on the former.]
Anyhow, it shouldn’t surprise any readers I mention “3 South” because that is where I ended-up in December of 2012. One day, I was sitting in their main room for a meal, & was joined by my Mom. We were later joined by Holly Herrholtz. (I admit to having no clue how to pronounce that surname, but am copying it directly from the business card she gave me that day.) She introduced herself as some sort of representative for a place called “Renaissance North”, one of the places her business card calls, “Valley Renaissance Healthcare Center(s)”. It was explained to us that when I left “3 South”, I would not be going to the endocrinology department of the hospital, or directly home; Instead, I would be sent to “Ren. North”. (It surprises me this very second to see that this particular building is not named anywhere on the card; I rode in Ma’s car past it less than a month ago, so I know it to still exist.)
Despite having been a high-school alumnus of over a decade (& each parent for much longer than that), none of us were given a choice in the matter (that I recall; Mom is said to have made a few “calls” around this time that surprise me to hear of them now). I was “shipped off” to this place, never being told a date or occurrence that would bring my exit.
Some things about the place were decent: I was given a room to myself, near a shower that was almost-always available (as long as you knew the code for the door, which reminded me of something I was used to on “Leverage”). I was also given 3 meals a day, & often asked which of two I preferred at each prior meal. These would not be mentioned, of course, if the place was without its eccentricities: They had me spend a lot of my stay in daily therapy, though I had not entered (doing so on foot without help) with any injuries I was aware of. Also, looking in my sock drawer now would reveal some still have my surname written on them, as do a few of my shirts.
As it seems to annually, New Year’s Eve came. I remember still that I was in Renaissance this particular day, as I can still picture myself in my room, watching “Dolph Ziggler” (actually an alumnus of a semi-local college) making New Year’s Resolutions in the ring on “Monday Night Raw”. [Another good thing about this place: No "lights out" time or anything like that; While I didn't have my CD player & was using captions on several TV shows, I could watch all the Craig Ferguson (or read any book) I wanted.]
After a few weeks, the therapists (one male leader & one female leader among them, which I still wonder about being motivated by Title IX or something) told me I was done not withe the building, but with them. I did eventually leave there (clearly; No Internet service I was aware of), & came back to the apartment.
Now, come on the “Way-Forward” machine with me to about December 10th of 2013. Knowing my birthday was approaching (& would be on a weekend), I was looking forward to it & attempting to plan something. (Spending it at my sister’s again was all but cancelled, as my niece was due earlier in the week.) I also enjoyed the fact I had no doctor’s appointment directly preceding my birthday. (I don’t think we can hang wall calendars here according to the apartment lease, so I simply keep my appointment cards in order as best I can on a counter near the stove.)
I had a few doctors’ appointments in the week following my birthday, though. Following each one, I would plan the next visit to that doctor, obviously for 2014. Each time, I was unsure if the day they said was currently doctor-free, but knew if it turned-out I had one scheduled for that day already, I could call back & reschedule the one who hadn’t called “dibs”/”shotgun” on it in time.
Unlike me, Mom had already bought a calendar. (I tend to wait until around now, thinking the calendar stores & the like will have them “marked-down” once a new year has begun.) One day early this month, I attempted to check it to see what I had coming when. (The guy I see at the Kidney Group, for instance, often calls last-second to reschedule for several months later, leaving the appointment card in very-much the wrong spot sequentially.) It was then I read some note on this past weekend about her having brought me home from “The R” (what we’ve both come to call it) on the 18th.
Her note said nothing of time, however, so I just assumed I’d make sure to be sure (redundant much?!), & wait to celebrate this past Sunday. It got to the point I E-mailed my sister, asking what she might like to do to join us in marking it. (She remains unable to travel a while more, related to the birth of my niece.) I also told her on the phone recently I was approaching “my last weekday before Sunday”. She said it was hers, too. I asked her what she had coming Sunday. When she said, “Nothing,” I reminded her of my situation.
I’ve been saving this for the big ending [which I now recall is in direct conflict with the thing I said I enjoyed about "Burn Notice" episodes at the start of this, which is kind-of "circularly-ironic", especially considering the part that show (& the trait of it I referred to previously) plays in the story told in this blog]. But as I said, I’ve been in Trumbull a ton, & spent less than a month at “The R”. All that means is that, while I am well-aware 2014 is over 3 weeks old (according to the chronograph on my watch). I have only recently completed my first year of never being admitted to either of those places or any others.
–Last note; Promise… This is my first blog (I believe) of 2014, & also the first being typed entirely on my own computer in my own room!!
So, if you “follow” my Twitter “feed“, you know I made a quick note on New Year’s Eve about not making any resolutions. However, for the same reason, you also know I promised that this past weekend (decently-in to the New Year, some might say) was a big one in my history. Let me start this blog off by explaining that to anyone who may be unaware & curious. (Or just one or the other, let alone neither.)
In order to explain why I’m celebrating a “New Year” 3 weeks late, I have to actually go back a bit more than a year. Join me in the Wayback Machine, & let’s head back to mid-December of 2012.
It was my birthday, & I spent a lot of it with my Mom, sister, brother-in-law, & my 2 nephews over at their house (also the one I grew up in). (Understand, as a side-note of sorts that I would’ve also spent it with my niece, but she wasn’t born for about another year.) Mom & I came home, & I spent the next few days doing a lot of the same stuff I do now: Watching TV &/or DVDs, reading my mail, & “tweeting”. (I do it a ton, but I hope that doing that helps me discover/create a better word for it; “Tweeting” is what I hear from those stupid birds on may way into the movie theater.)
Eventually, it was about the 19th of December. I had a whole lot of open time, which is something I continue to feel internally-conflicted about: On the one hand, I don’t have to see any of my doctors (or other assured “authority figures” I’m outright expected to listen-to & trust). On the other, I have literally nothing hinted/suggested-at for me to do. (I have no guarantee on this, but I believe it’s times like these my friend Jon decides to make the video we watched in Theatrics of him skydiving, or Vince McMahon to create the XFL.)
Like many shows, “Burn Notice” was on a break seemingly for the holidays. One thing I have come to recall & appreciate about that show is it never has an ending with a bunch of slow climaxing right up until the final minute; The “case of the week” often ends 5 minutes before the individual episode, & the final piece will include some person or thing (maybe both) that will be the tie-in to the next episode. Probably in large part due to much of my family lumping the holidays together (I only recently voiced my displeasure for the closeness of New Year’s- & Christmas-related things, but some relatives begin asking for potential Christmas gifts if you visit them for Halloween), I laid on the couch (where I have honestly spent much of the past month), & started watching recent episodes “On-Demand”, hoping I would be ready when it returned.
Mom, meanwhile, was spending time with my sister & my Aunt. I clearly & understandably have no clue what they said or did together. Eventually, though, it was obvious Mom was watching my nephews, as Jen & Aunt Shirley showed-up here. I also have no recall on the conversation, but it ended with the two of them deciding one would call 911. Eventually, I was in an ambulance, which took me to Trumbull Memorial Hospital. (If I had the proverbial nickel for each time I’ve talked/written about this place!! In addition to being the birthplace of me, Jen, both nephews, & my niece, I have spent enough time in there that I’ve discussed with many staff the possibility/likelihood of them eventually naming a section after me.)
While I’ve spent a ton of time inside the hospital, it seems that I’ve spent a steadily-increasing amount in/on what the staff refer to only as “3 South”, which I will tell you is flat-out a mental ward. [I chalk it up to a line I once heard on a Jason Statham DVD. but can never recall precisely about there being "a fine line between genius & crazy". For years, it has bothered me that unlike (for instance) cancer, there is no way to be sure if you have "crazy" or not... It appears to be a "judgment-call" deal; I have differing thoughts from others on a ton of things. I have no problem with their assuming themselves to be correct; What gets me is their assumption that I am on the latter side of the line, whereas I believe myself to be on the former.]
Anyhow, it shouldn’t surprise any readers I mention “3 South” because that is where I ended-up in December of 2012. One day, I was sitting in their main room for a meal, & was joined by my Mom. We were later joined by Holly Herrholtz. (I admit to having no clue how to pronounce that surname, but am copying it directly from the business card she gave me that day.) She introduced herself as some sort of representative for a place called “Renaissance North”, one of the places her business card calls, “Valley Renaissance Healthcare Center(s)”. It was explained to us that when I left “3 South”, I would not be going to the endocrinology department of the hospital, or directly home; Instead, I would be sent to “Ren. North”. (It surprises me this very second to see that this particular building is not named anywhere on the card; I rode in Ma’s car past it less than a month ago, so I know it to still exist.)
Despite having been a high-school alumnus of over a decade (& each parent for much longer than that), none of us were given a choice in the matter (that I recall; Mom is said to have made a few “calls” around this time that surprise me to hear of them now). I was “shipped off” to this place, never being told a date or occurrence that would bring my exit.
Some things about the place were decent: I was given a room to myself, near a shower that was almost-always available (as long as you knew the code for the door, which reminded me of something I was used to on “Leverage”). I was also given 3 meals a day, & often asked which of two I preferred at each prior meal. These would not be mentioned, of course, if the place was without its eccentricities: They had me spend a lot of my stay in daily therapy, though I had not entered (doing so on foot without help) with any injuries I was aware of. Also, looking in my sock drawer now would reveal some still have my surname written on them, as do a few of my shirts.
As it seems to annually, New Year’s Eve came. I remember still that I was in Renaissance this particular day, as I can still picture myself in my room, watching “Dolph Ziggler” (actually an alumnus of a semi-local college) making New Year’s Resolutions in the ring on “Monday Night Raw”. [Another good thing about this place: No "lights out" time or anything like that; While I didn't have my CD player & was using captions on several TV shows, I could watch all the Craig Ferguson (or read any book) I wanted.]
After a few weeks, the therapists (one male leader & one female leader among them, which I still wonder about being motivated by Title IX or something) told me I was done not withe the building, but with them. I did eventually leave there (clearly; No Internet service I was aware of), & came back to the apartment.
Now, come on the “Way-Forward” machine with me to about December 10th of 2013. Knowing my birthday was approaching (& would be on a weekend), I was looking forward to it & attempting to plan something. (Spending it at my sister’s again was all but cancelled, as my niece was due earlier in the week.) I also enjoyed the fact I had no doctor’s appointment directly preceding my birthday. (I don’t think we can hang wall calendars here according to the apartment lease, so I simply keep my appointment cards in order as best I can on a counter near the stove.)
I had a few doctors’ appointments in the week following my birthday, though. Following each one, I would plan the next visit to that doctor, obviously for 2014. Each time, I was unsure if the day they said was currently doctor-free, but knew if it turned-out I had one scheduled for that day already, I could call back & reschedule the one who hadn’t called “dibs”/”shotgun” on it in time.
Unlike me, Mom had already bought a calendar. (I tend to wait until around now, thinking the calendar stores & the like will have them “marked-down” once a new year has begun.) One day early this month, I attempted to check it to see what I had coming when. (The guy I see at the Kidney Group, for instance, often calls last-second to reschedule for several months later, leaving the appointment card in very-much the wrong spot sequentially.) It was then I read some note on this past weekend about her having brought me home from “The R” (what we’ve both come to call it) on the 18th.
Her note said nothing of time, however, so I just assumed I’d make sure to be sure (redundant much?!), & wait to celebrate this past Sunday. It got to the point I E-mailed my sister, asking what she might like to do to join us in marking it. (She remains unable to travel a while more, related to the birth of my niece.) I also told her on the phone recently I was approaching “my last weekday before Sunday”. She said it was hers, too. I asked her what she had coming Sunday. When she said, “Nothing,” I reminded her of my situation.
I’ve been saving this for the big ending [which I now recall is in direct conflict with the thing I said I enjoyed about "Burn Notice" episodes at the start of this, which is kind-of "circularly-ironic", especially considering the part that show (& the trait of it I referred to previously) plays in the story told in this blog]. But as I said, I’ve been in Trumbull a ton, & spent less than a month at “The R”. All that means is that, while I am well-aware 2014 is over 3 weeks old (according to the chronograph on my watch). I have only recently completed my first year of never being admitted to either of those places or any others.
–Last note; Promise… This is my first blog (I believe) of 2014, & also the first being typed entirely on my own computer in my own room!!
2014.2.1
I’ll start this one off by turning-away some potential readers; No, I am never planning to “come out” (I know how the Internet is/are.) While I admit to never having dated anyone & have nothing against gay marriages/relationships, I fully believe myself to be a “straight” adult (though the stuff on my boots’ soles makes me walk a bit curvy sometimes), & consider my lack of dating to be a positive. (If/When I do ever start, I will go into it with far-less expectations. Also, I will watch “Judge Judy”/”Judge Mathis”/”Judge Alex” or “Maury” on an average weekday, but never have to expect seeing myself being sued for damage to an ex’s person/property, or to see anyone claiming I’m father of their kid.)
As for what this blog is/will-be about, I find it a bit ironic I am writing it on this computer, as this machine may also contain the answer to the question. (I have long made it known my “fandom” of irony, including when I get bored… Also not against puns.)
Not sure I ever mentioned it on this site (which owes its name to the project), but I started writing something on a laptop in the late ’90s. I was able to continue it a bit more in the year 2000, & when I was able to devote all my writing time to projects of my own invention, technically “finished” it in late 2001. I call it a “tech” finish because the project was my first musical-theater project, but the second (& final) Act still has its tunes finished only in my head. (I will probably hold on to my continually-growing collection of “business cards” for my also-often-growing list of doctors, as they may still be unaware, but from 2002 until late 2007, it was the sole reason I continued to exist, so it seems only right to send them notice-of/passes-to a performance if it ever happens… On a side-note, you can read all about the added reason from Fall 2007 on this blog.)
I am also not sure if I have mentioned it previously on this site (though its exclusion would downright shock me), but I often claim to “live improv”. I actually started with an improvisation group around the same time I started writing the aforementioned project; While I don’t think the later version of the group meets anymore, I continue to live a lot of my life with little-to-no pre-planning. [I do, for instance, set "reminder timers" on our onscreen cable guide for a lot of my favorite shows (everything from the new episode of "The Big Bang Theory" to a who-knows-how-old "Boy Meets World" repeat, both yesterday), but I love that the reminder includes the option to not change the channel to that show after all.]
Anyhow, I sometimes mix the pre-planning with the improvisation. If you had a microphone attached to my coat this weekend, for instance, you might find I’m walking to a still-undecided movie while singing a song I wrote the lyrics to over a dozen years ago. I am often thinking not of where I want to go or what I’ll have for my next meal, but of who I might work with if/when that aforementioned project ever gets done. (The fact is that in the area where I live, they’ll do 100 different plays a year, but those auditioning & being cast will come from an individually-identifiable group about the size of those working in this weekend’s Super Bowl.)
I have often discussed these things with my mother (one of the few people to have read/heard the full project, a group I can count on 1 hand & simultaneously type), & we disagree on a few things. One we constantly argue (literally; it tends to get a bit rough) is whether or not anyone I have worked with on previous theater projects will even audition for mine. (I admit to myself being part of the reason for the previously-suggested small number of local auditioners; While PT Barnum is credited with mention of a “sucker born every minute”, I myself last did a play locally roughly 8 years ago, & it was roughly 1 ago I told myself aloud I was choosing to remain working on the page & not the stage from here on out.)
As I’m reasonably-sure I have mentioned on this site previously, I am “a legal adult”. (I won’t go further into the reason for those quotes, as the situation with that may have changed before some of you read this.) That said, I have not only thought often about who I might work with on this project, but what the articles might say that I expect will be written about me &/or it when the show is being cast, etc. (I have a long E-mail history with the main entertainment reporter for one of the local papers, so I suspect he might be doing it. For the other main paper in the area, it seems a current reporter for their Website is someone I currently “follow” on Twitter, & was the lead actress in my first theater show ever, so in my mind, I have promised her their “exclusive” contact whenever the staging happens.)
Never mind the fact that I have pictured several scenes, & even some blocking &/or choreography in my head at least twice for every can of soda I drank this week, as well as considered my nephew standing in the lobby after the show, leading me around to audience members, & even introducing me as both his Uncle & the man who wrote the show they just saw. (Keep your duos of “Kander & Ebb” or “Lerner and Loewe”; My shows are written by the trio of Me, Myself, & I.) I believe myself to have an unspoken agreement with a local theater’s director (a costar that was simultaneously onstage with me in scenes of the only musical I ever did, & a key part of the reason I started writing this project) that this particular theater (the only stage I’ve ever appeared on, also home to the improvisation group) will perform my show if/when it is completed in actuality.
The question is not if it will be performed. (Not to me, anyway; I realize he could reject the finished product, but his doing so would be a literal “shock to the system”.) The question is also not what will be my proverbial “next trick”. (While I await the final step in the completion of its writing, I only last night typed the beginning of another non-musical theater project I began earlier this year, & have a character for my next musical project named & described for myself in the “Drafts” area of my cell phone’s text messages.) The question is lastly not how people will react to the finished product. (I have told Mom in our aforementioned conversations I suspect former costars’ knowledge-of/experiences-with me may keep them from auditioning for my show, but simultaneously believe they will all attempt to see it, & many will have positive feedback when they do.)
The simple question is… WHEN?!
I’ll start this one off by turning-away some potential readers; No, I am never planning to “come out” (I know how the Internet is/are.) While I admit to never having dated anyone & have nothing against gay marriages/relationships, I fully believe myself to be a “straight” adult (though the stuff on my boots’ soles makes me walk a bit curvy sometimes), & consider my lack of dating to be a positive. (If/When I do ever start, I will go into it with far-less expectations. Also, I will watch “Judge Judy”/”Judge Mathis”/”Judge Alex” or “Maury” on an average weekday, but never have to expect seeing myself being sued for damage to an ex’s person/property, or to see anyone claiming I’m father of their kid.)
As for what this blog is/will-be about, I find it a bit ironic I am writing it on this computer, as this machine may also contain the answer to the question. (I have long made it known my “fandom” of irony, including when I get bored… Also not against puns.)
Not sure I ever mentioned it on this site (which owes its name to the project), but I started writing something on a laptop in the late ’90s. I was able to continue it a bit more in the year 2000, & when I was able to devote all my writing time to projects of my own invention, technically “finished” it in late 2001. I call it a “tech” finish because the project was my first musical-theater project, but the second (& final) Act still has its tunes finished only in my head. (I will probably hold on to my continually-growing collection of “business cards” for my also-often-growing list of doctors, as they may still be unaware, but from 2002 until late 2007, it was the sole reason I continued to exist, so it seems only right to send them notice-of/passes-to a performance if it ever happens… On a side-note, you can read all about the added reason from Fall 2007 on this blog.)
I am also not sure if I have mentioned it previously on this site (though its exclusion would downright shock me), but I often claim to “live improv”. I actually started with an improvisation group around the same time I started writing the aforementioned project; While I don’t think the later version of the group meets anymore, I continue to live a lot of my life with little-to-no pre-planning. [I do, for instance, set "reminder timers" on our onscreen cable guide for a lot of my favorite shows (everything from the new episode of "The Big Bang Theory" to a who-knows-how-old "Boy Meets World" repeat, both yesterday), but I love that the reminder includes the option to not change the channel to that show after all.]
Anyhow, I sometimes mix the pre-planning with the improvisation. If you had a microphone attached to my coat this weekend, for instance, you might find I’m walking to a still-undecided movie while singing a song I wrote the lyrics to over a dozen years ago. I am often thinking not of where I want to go or what I’ll have for my next meal, but of who I might work with if/when that aforementioned project ever gets done. (The fact is that in the area where I live, they’ll do 100 different plays a year, but those auditioning & being cast will come from an individually-identifiable group about the size of those working in this weekend’s Super Bowl.)
I have often discussed these things with my mother (one of the few people to have read/heard the full project, a group I can count on 1 hand & simultaneously type), & we disagree on a few things. One we constantly argue (literally; it tends to get a bit rough) is whether or not anyone I have worked with on previous theater projects will even audition for mine. (I admit to myself being part of the reason for the previously-suggested small number of local auditioners; While PT Barnum is credited with mention of a “sucker born every minute”, I myself last did a play locally roughly 8 years ago, & it was roughly 1 ago I told myself aloud I was choosing to remain working on the page & not the stage from here on out.)
As I’m reasonably-sure I have mentioned on this site previously, I am “a legal adult”. (I won’t go further into the reason for those quotes, as the situation with that may have changed before some of you read this.) That said, I have not only thought often about who I might work with on this project, but what the articles might say that I expect will be written about me &/or it when the show is being cast, etc. (I have a long E-mail history with the main entertainment reporter for one of the local papers, so I suspect he might be doing it. For the other main paper in the area, it seems a current reporter for their Website is someone I currently “follow” on Twitter, & was the lead actress in my first theater show ever, so in my mind, I have promised her their “exclusive” contact whenever the staging happens.)
Never mind the fact that I have pictured several scenes, & even some blocking &/or choreography in my head at least twice for every can of soda I drank this week, as well as considered my nephew standing in the lobby after the show, leading me around to audience members, & even introducing me as both his Uncle & the man who wrote the show they just saw. (Keep your duos of “Kander & Ebb” or “Lerner and Loewe”; My shows are written by the trio of Me, Myself, & I.) I believe myself to have an unspoken agreement with a local theater’s director (a costar that was simultaneously onstage with me in scenes of the only musical I ever did, & a key part of the reason I started writing this project) that this particular theater (the only stage I’ve ever appeared on, also home to the improvisation group) will perform my show if/when it is completed in actuality.
The question is not if it will be performed. (Not to me, anyway; I realize he could reject the finished product, but his doing so would be a literal “shock to the system”.) The question is also not what will be my proverbial “next trick”. (While I await the final step in the completion of its writing, I only last night typed the beginning of another non-musical theater project I began earlier this year, & have a character for my next musical project named & described for myself in the “Drafts” area of my cell phone’s text messages.) The question is lastly not how people will react to the finished product. (I have told Mom in our aforementioned conversations I suspect former costars’ knowledge-of/experiences-with me may keep them from auditioning for my show, but simultaneously believe they will all attempt to see it, & many will have positive feedback when they do.)
The simple question is… WHEN?!
2014.2.19
Hey, everyone; I’m back.
Sorry if I stayed away too long. (I recently updated my decade-plus-old Angelfire page to say “I average (blogging) about once a week”, & lately, that’s just not true!) But I come here now to write a blog I’ve been considering for an amount of time I literally don’t have a clue on. On top of that, it’s one I hope you all read, consider, & then tell everyone you know (as someone said on TV this week, “Tweet it, Facebook it, text,…”) to do the same. I have (as the title says) a “BIG, Important Question” to ask you all, & the answer you have may quite-literally change the way I live the rest of my life…
Are you ready for it?!… Seriously?!… Here it is…
HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TENACIOUS D?!
OK; Sorry. Fact is, I just LOVE fake-outs like that! The real question is…
Do you know how to disprove a medical diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes?!
No; Seriously! That’s it. But the two are related. Let me explain.
I am honestly not a fan of Tenacious D. I can’t say I’ve watched them perform more than 1 song ever. I own 2 Jack Black movies on DVD: “High Fidelity” (wherein I think Cusack cast him after a lost bet, or a lost hand in a poker game) & “Tropic Thunder” (where he is working alongside Robert Downey Jr., who is playing an actor, which he had already won awards for doing in “Chaplin”, so JB couldn’t possibly ruin it). As for the other man, Kyle Gass, I know almost nothing about him, causing me to assume he is like other gases, which people apologize for when they release them on the public.
Anyhow, the one song I know of theirs is called, “Tribute”. For anyone who is unaware, here is a link to the lyrics. As I already typed, that may be the only song I ever heard them perform (& I cannot tell you where). However, this song has been in my head for the great majority of the time I have been considering writing this blog…
As the lyrics say, they don’t consider the song to be “the greatest song in the world”, but “just a tribute” to it. I have little doubt me & my readers would disagree on the greatest song in the world (the same way most people on the ‘Net argue the Beatles were the greatest rock band ever, & the “Monkeemaniac” in me will never allow myself to even put them in my Top 20). Regardless, I say a simple reading of those lyrics tells you that the song itself is not even a contender. On top of that, the fact it repeatedly claims to be a “tribute” to “the greatest song in the world” means the greatest one must be something written before it (much the way Mel Brooks couldn’t have gone on “Conan” for what he did last night if Sid Caesar was alive & having Lunch somewhere this afternoon).
If you are reading my blog for the first time, let me give you a quick note on something I’ve written a million times: I was diagnosed as a Type 1 Diabetic almost 13 years ago, & have not spent 1 second of that time agreeing with or believing that diagnosis. As a matter of fact, one of the “aims” (not “resolutions”) I have for 2014 is to lessen the number of medications I take & doctors I see, & the first one I plan to cut from the list is my current endocrinologist, since my understanding is that Diabetes is one of the main diseases they deal with, & I don’t think I actually have that disease, so I don’t believe I actually need to see any of that type of doctor. (Much the way my sister doesn’t see my neurologist because she doesn’t have my shunt, & I don’t see the doctor that helped her during any of her three pregnancies.)
Here’s something that is always key to remember for my life/situation: Even if you are one of the friends or family members that believe I have Diabetes (seems to be every one but me), you don’t know how long I’ve had it for. I will remember for an undeterminable amount of time I was diagnosed some time between June 29, 2001 (the day I went into the hospital) & July 6, 2001 (the day I went home). Regardless, I may have actually started having the disease at any time in the prior 18-&-a-half years, & nobody I know can positively confirm-or-deny that. What everyone knows is that the diagnosis (right or wrong, depending on who you ask) came sometime in that week-or-so.
One thing my Mom & I discuss a lot (admittedly, mostly me) is Galileo. I bring it up often when we are discussing “my Diabetes”. (I call it this, regardless of claiming to know I don’t have the disease, nor vice-versa.) As I learned from Mr. Lendak my Freshman year of high school (he used to be friends with my Dad; I don’t know about now), Galileo was literally sent to the Inquisition due to his defense of “heliocentrism” (earth revolving around the Sun). Now, that sometimes makes me literally laugh, due to all of us knowing him to have been right…
Over the past few years, there have been a few times where I downright refused to “check my blood-sugar” or take my insulin shots. This is largely not due to my denial of Diabetes, but my questioning of the disease’s treatment, which dates back to almost the very same day I arrived home. (It boils down to, “Making myself bleed & stabbing myself with needles, & doing both repeatedly, is supposed to make me feel better? And help prolong my life? And I’m supposed to want to live longer, knowing I have to do each of these things?” I have honestly considered contacting Criss Angel &/or moving to New York, doing these things publically, & calling myself a performance artist.)
Anyhow, long blog shorter, that is why I want to prove that I don’t have it. (Don’t try Google; Been there, done that, got WAY too many T-shirts.) Much like someone eventually proved Galileo’s belief about the Earth & sun to be right (but, as I say when discussing it, “he’s not any less dead”), I expect my denial of having Diabetes will be proven factual, & I would like to see it happen before I’m dead, so I am able to enjoy whatever I can see/do when not restricted by my currently-enforced schedule of shots & things.
Hey, everyone; I’m back.
Sorry if I stayed away too long. (I recently updated my decade-plus-old Angelfire page to say “I average (blogging) about once a week”, & lately, that’s just not true!) But I come here now to write a blog I’ve been considering for an amount of time I literally don’t have a clue on. On top of that, it’s one I hope you all read, consider, & then tell everyone you know (as someone said on TV this week, “Tweet it, Facebook it, text,…”) to do the same. I have (as the title says) a “BIG, Important Question” to ask you all, & the answer you have may quite-literally change the way I live the rest of my life…
Are you ready for it?!… Seriously?!… Here it is…
HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TENACIOUS D?!
OK; Sorry. Fact is, I just LOVE fake-outs like that! The real question is…
Do you know how to disprove a medical diagnosis of Type 1 Diabetes?!
No; Seriously! That’s it. But the two are related. Let me explain.
I am honestly not a fan of Tenacious D. I can’t say I’ve watched them perform more than 1 song ever. I own 2 Jack Black movies on DVD: “High Fidelity” (wherein I think Cusack cast him after a lost bet, or a lost hand in a poker game) & “Tropic Thunder” (where he is working alongside Robert Downey Jr., who is playing an actor, which he had already won awards for doing in “Chaplin”, so JB couldn’t possibly ruin it). As for the other man, Kyle Gass, I know almost nothing about him, causing me to assume he is like other gases, which people apologize for when they release them on the public.
Anyhow, the one song I know of theirs is called, “Tribute”. For anyone who is unaware, here is a link to the lyrics. As I already typed, that may be the only song I ever heard them perform (& I cannot tell you where). However, this song has been in my head for the great majority of the time I have been considering writing this blog…
As the lyrics say, they don’t consider the song to be “the greatest song in the world”, but “just a tribute” to it. I have little doubt me & my readers would disagree on the greatest song in the world (the same way most people on the ‘Net argue the Beatles were the greatest rock band ever, & the “Monkeemaniac” in me will never allow myself to even put them in my Top 20). Regardless, I say a simple reading of those lyrics tells you that the song itself is not even a contender. On top of that, the fact it repeatedly claims to be a “tribute” to “the greatest song in the world” means the greatest one must be something written before it (much the way Mel Brooks couldn’t have gone on “Conan” for what he did last night if Sid Caesar was alive & having Lunch somewhere this afternoon).
If you are reading my blog for the first time, let me give you a quick note on something I’ve written a million times: I was diagnosed as a Type 1 Diabetic almost 13 years ago, & have not spent 1 second of that time agreeing with or believing that diagnosis. As a matter of fact, one of the “aims” (not “resolutions”) I have for 2014 is to lessen the number of medications I take & doctors I see, & the first one I plan to cut from the list is my current endocrinologist, since my understanding is that Diabetes is one of the main diseases they deal with, & I don’t think I actually have that disease, so I don’t believe I actually need to see any of that type of doctor. (Much the way my sister doesn’t see my neurologist because she doesn’t have my shunt, & I don’t see the doctor that helped her during any of her three pregnancies.)
Here’s something that is always key to remember for my life/situation: Even if you are one of the friends or family members that believe I have Diabetes (seems to be every one but me), you don’t know how long I’ve had it for. I will remember for an undeterminable amount of time I was diagnosed some time between June 29, 2001 (the day I went into the hospital) & July 6, 2001 (the day I went home). Regardless, I may have actually started having the disease at any time in the prior 18-&-a-half years, & nobody I know can positively confirm-or-deny that. What everyone knows is that the diagnosis (right or wrong, depending on who you ask) came sometime in that week-or-so.
One thing my Mom & I discuss a lot (admittedly, mostly me) is Galileo. I bring it up often when we are discussing “my Diabetes”. (I call it this, regardless of claiming to know I don’t have the disease, nor vice-versa.) As I learned from Mr. Lendak my Freshman year of high school (he used to be friends with my Dad; I don’t know about now), Galileo was literally sent to the Inquisition due to his defense of “heliocentrism” (earth revolving around the Sun). Now, that sometimes makes me literally laugh, due to all of us knowing him to have been right…
Over the past few years, there have been a few times where I downright refused to “check my blood-sugar” or take my insulin shots. This is largely not due to my denial of Diabetes, but my questioning of the disease’s treatment, which dates back to almost the very same day I arrived home. (It boils down to, “Making myself bleed & stabbing myself with needles, & doing both repeatedly, is supposed to make me feel better? And help prolong my life? And I’m supposed to want to live longer, knowing I have to do each of these things?” I have honestly considered contacting Criss Angel &/or moving to New York, doing these things publically, & calling myself a performance artist.)
Anyhow, long blog shorter, that is why I want to prove that I don’t have it. (Don’t try Google; Been there, done that, got WAY too many T-shirts.) Much like someone eventually proved Galileo’s belief about the Earth & sun to be right (but, as I say when discussing it, “he’s not any less dead”), I expect my denial of having Diabetes will be proven factual, & I would like to see it happen before I’m dead, so I am able to enjoy whatever I can see/do when not restricted by my currently-enforced schedule of shots & things.
2014.3.2
If you’re visiting this blog for the first time, do me a favor first, & simply scan a few of the previous posts. If you do (or you’ve read them before), one thing should be painfully obvious: I’ve got problems. I’m not just referring to the ones I have working the apartment’s intercom-buzzer system to let my Dad in each week, or the ones I have crossing the roadways in my incredibly-comfortable boots (I heard once that pedestrians had the right of way, but it seems local merchants prefer to shovel snow from their parking lots right onto the sidewalks)… I’m talking about real physical problems.
Frankly, that’s one reason so many of my individual blogs over the past decade-or-so have started with a “Note” or “Disclaimer”; I figure everyone has some problems, & they don’t visit sites to read someone else list or complain about theirs. What really gets me is one of the ways I relax is watching reality TV (I already have a timer set on the cable for “Amazing Race” tomorrow)… I saw one such show this past week where one of the “Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” was complaining about her friends getting busy with their new jobs, & she was discussing with people the option of making money herself through her blog. (If you take that link, it will take you to her blog; I only recalled the address because I had the captions on while watching the show, & was sure they’d spelled one of the words wrong; It’s one of my problems related to my hearing, which is an admitted one of my physical problems… I am sure to watch a few episodes of “Leverage” tomorrow, & see a few dozen apostrophes in words like “its” that don’t need one in that particular present usage.)
Anyhow, one thing you may have read about in my previous blogs is what many refer to as “cabin fever”. I don’t recall ever calling it that myself, & in fact, discussed my lack of usage of that term with my podiatrist less than a month ago. (His office told me they wanted me to order a new pair of shoes, & will expect me to do so at least once a year. I’m very happy with the ones I chose, but living in NE Ohio, am not exactly counting the days until I’ll be able to use them outside.) It was while taking a trip recently to the Mall (maybe buying some “take-home food”, AKA “groceries”,) I thought about the subject of this blog…
“They still don’t get it that it’s not an easy job to be the one who says, ‘Yes’ when the whole world only says, ‘No’.”
The vast majority of you who have not already Googled that quote are probably expecting it came from Lincoln or one of the other Presidents that has their day in the just-ended month. (Which are we supposed to celebrate then, anyway?! Long told I’m a descendant of “local boy made good” McKinley, I spend most of that day recalling all of them I can minus Nixon, & wondering why I’m still expected to call Clinton or either Bush “Mr. President” the same way I would Obama.) You would be wrong. Those are not even the words of an American at all!
Those are the words said (or rather sung) by Australia native Ben Lee. Don’t be surprised if you’ve never heard that name; I may never have either if not for a show called, “Hidden Palms”. (I had that name wrong myself until I Googled what I thought it was called along with the song of Ben’s I was sure I heard on it.) IMDB tells me the most-prominent stars only appeared in 1 season, which itself lasted less than 3 months; Not exactly “Seinfeld”-size fandom! However, it was created (the site says) by Kevin Williamson, creator of the “Scream” film series, as well as the TV series-es “Dawson’s Creek”, “The Vampire Diaries”, & “The Following”. Also, appearances in all episodes were logged by Amber Heard, now known from several films, if not for her connection to costar-turned-fiancee Johnny Depp… So you understand if they’ve been a bit busy to film the reunion special!
Anyhow, one of the non-physical problems I’ve blogged a bunch about is my computer being down. (That is, the one I used to have. Before Martin Luther King Day of this year, I had been doing my E-mailing & blogging from my Mom’s appliance. Less than a month later, I was informed my new one was full of viruses; One of my more-common complaints now is of the Geek Squad, my “legal guardian”, Mom, & others creating things in others’ lives they know will be problematic so you need them to solve stuff for you.)
Anyhow, on any computer. you can type all you want, but you can’t access the music & things you once had. For that reason, I had been spending my Mall trips listening to the same 60+ songs for quite some time…. Or should I have typed, “song”?! I must confess 90% of the time that I used the MP3-player, I was listening to the song “Yoko Ono” by Ben. (Not one I believe I’ve ever heard on TV.) Due to similar problems, I had improvised my last creation of a “playlist” on my player, relying largely on artists I liked, but songs I either knew nothing about, or felt had interesting titles.
(If you need proof, here are my actual “tweets” from one day I hung around the Mall last July: Singing Ben Lee’s “Yoko Ono” while walking around in my shirt from The Monkees’ 1997 tour; I DARE someone to ask me what I think about John Lennon! To say NOTHING of his Uncle Vladimir!!!)
As I alluded to, I spent about 1 of the past 2 months with a working PC in my room, & am ready sometime soon to change the “playlist” with other music I used to have, & things I’ve downloaded since then. However, that is my future, not my past, so a week or two ago, I was still walking down that same hallway between the Gymboree & the jewelry store (neither of which I’ve ever gone in, & no plans to change that), listening to Ben sing about Yoko. (I seriously just checked IMDB to see if she was born in this country or not.) I’ve mouthed the words along with that song more times than I care to count. (I sang solos when I was younger in a church where Mom does so now, & sang in the choirs at church & school after being cast in a “Summer Stock” musical, but nobody is hearing this voice for free outside of this apartment now.)
Suddenly, (some would say) “like something out of a dream” (mine largely involve dying or people in chicken suits), I heard the above-boldfaced lyric repeating in my head. I then found myself dying to figure out how to rewind the song on my player only a few seconds, so I could hear the words again. (I never did figure it out, resigning myself to the fact that if I had, I would’ve done it repeatedly, & my player’s low on battery power anyway.)
A few afternoons later, I was sitting at the computer, visiting Websites while waiting for downloads to finish (much the way I am right now). I opened my Windows Media Player, & started searching my old music library for songs I might like to listen to. I found a song by Ben called, “Running With Scissors“. Recalling this myself as an album by (“Weird”) Al Yankovic, I wondered if perhaps Ben’s song was a cover or a song about Al. I listened to it (recommend you find a way to do the same), & from the opening drumbeat-like sounds, followed by a guitar hook Louie Shelton would’ve never attempted (Take the link if you must!), I was into it in a major way.
Suddenly, the chorus hit, & I was out, especially that line about, “You can’t hear the song until you dance”. After all, I’m the guy who went to my first Gin Blossoms performance, & soon wrote a piece called “White Man’s Burden” about how white guys can’t dance (I don’t try jumping thanks to Woody Harrelson & Wesley Snipes, or dodging taxes), play sports, or do a few other things. (Like have a month where TV stations & shows celebrate our race, unlike some I know.)
However, then came the bridge, which my sister & I have long agreed is the best part of most songs. (Blame it on Billy Joel.) “So don’t ask me for a reason; Don’t look at me for a reason; Don’t look for me cause I’m runnin’ too fast”. I admit that I was probably the slowest kid in my graduating class going back all the way to when I attended the elementary school down the street from where I live tonight. Also, I don’t do all that much running anymore, unless I’m heading from the Mall to: Wendy’s, Best Buy, or the movie-theater, & an approaching motorist gives me the go-ahead wave. (I have a longstanding rule: “If you don’t waste my time, I won’t waste yours,” & that’s true for far more than cars on my “walking trips”.) However, much the way I doubt Ben or Steven Page (until recently of Barenaked Ladies, & the lead singer on “Be My Yoko Ono,” long before he left & they moved on to “The Big Bang Theory” theme song) may have ever met Yoko, I assumed this was more of a writer doing so metaphorically. As a guy who constantly professes to “live Improv”, I was DEFINITELY right back in!
I may-or-may-not do an all-Ben-Lee “playlist” for my MP3-player next week (also, maybe “all Bens”, adding his group with Kweller & Folds, along with Ben Gibbard, leader of Death Cab For Cutie & the Postal Service)… Either way, I thank the Aussies for cheering me up, & apologize if my Steve Irwin impression has added a bit of Southern into the accent in recent years.
NOTE: I feel this blog would be incomplete without mentioning that I’ve never left the continent myself. Also, I own & enjoy many CDs by the co-writer of “Down Under”, Colin Hay… I became a fan of his largely due to Zach Braff. This is somewhat ironic, considering Zach is probably celebrated in his home state of New Jersey, where his first major film (“Garden State”) is set. I own the DVD & soundtrack to that one, & have pictures of myself standing in front of the now-gone building in Jersey one of my favorite bands is named after (they are also on my MP3-player right now), but don’t consider myself to enjoy it as much as I suspect I might Australia… I suppose that is largely because I’ve actually spent time in one & not the other.
If you’re visiting this blog for the first time, do me a favor first, & simply scan a few of the previous posts. If you do (or you’ve read them before), one thing should be painfully obvious: I’ve got problems. I’m not just referring to the ones I have working the apartment’s intercom-buzzer system to let my Dad in each week, or the ones I have crossing the roadways in my incredibly-comfortable boots (I heard once that pedestrians had the right of way, but it seems local merchants prefer to shovel snow from their parking lots right onto the sidewalks)… I’m talking about real physical problems.
Frankly, that’s one reason so many of my individual blogs over the past decade-or-so have started with a “Note” or “Disclaimer”; I figure everyone has some problems, & they don’t visit sites to read someone else list or complain about theirs. What really gets me is one of the ways I relax is watching reality TV (I already have a timer set on the cable for “Amazing Race” tomorrow)… I saw one such show this past week where one of the “Rich Kids of Beverly Hills” was complaining about her friends getting busy with their new jobs, & she was discussing with people the option of making money herself through her blog. (If you take that link, it will take you to her blog; I only recalled the address because I had the captions on while watching the show, & was sure they’d spelled one of the words wrong; It’s one of my problems related to my hearing, which is an admitted one of my physical problems… I am sure to watch a few episodes of “Leverage” tomorrow, & see a few dozen apostrophes in words like “its” that don’t need one in that particular present usage.)
Anyhow, one thing you may have read about in my previous blogs is what many refer to as “cabin fever”. I don’t recall ever calling it that myself, & in fact, discussed my lack of usage of that term with my podiatrist less than a month ago. (His office told me they wanted me to order a new pair of shoes, & will expect me to do so at least once a year. I’m very happy with the ones I chose, but living in NE Ohio, am not exactly counting the days until I’ll be able to use them outside.) It was while taking a trip recently to the Mall (maybe buying some “take-home food”, AKA “groceries”,) I thought about the subject of this blog…
“They still don’t get it that it’s not an easy job to be the one who says, ‘Yes’ when the whole world only says, ‘No’.”
The vast majority of you who have not already Googled that quote are probably expecting it came from Lincoln or one of the other Presidents that has their day in the just-ended month. (Which are we supposed to celebrate then, anyway?! Long told I’m a descendant of “local boy made good” McKinley, I spend most of that day recalling all of them I can minus Nixon, & wondering why I’m still expected to call Clinton or either Bush “Mr. President” the same way I would Obama.) You would be wrong. Those are not even the words of an American at all!
Those are the words said (or rather sung) by Australia native Ben Lee. Don’t be surprised if you’ve never heard that name; I may never have either if not for a show called, “Hidden Palms”. (I had that name wrong myself until I Googled what I thought it was called along with the song of Ben’s I was sure I heard on it.) IMDB tells me the most-prominent stars only appeared in 1 season, which itself lasted less than 3 months; Not exactly “Seinfeld”-size fandom! However, it was created (the site says) by Kevin Williamson, creator of the “Scream” film series, as well as the TV series-es “Dawson’s Creek”, “The Vampire Diaries”, & “The Following”. Also, appearances in all episodes were logged by Amber Heard, now known from several films, if not for her connection to costar-turned-fiancee Johnny Depp… So you understand if they’ve been a bit busy to film the reunion special!
Anyhow, one of the non-physical problems I’ve blogged a bunch about is my computer being down. (That is, the one I used to have. Before Martin Luther King Day of this year, I had been doing my E-mailing & blogging from my Mom’s appliance. Less than a month later, I was informed my new one was full of viruses; One of my more-common complaints now is of the Geek Squad, my “legal guardian”, Mom, & others creating things in others’ lives they know will be problematic so you need them to solve stuff for you.)
Anyhow, on any computer. you can type all you want, but you can’t access the music & things you once had. For that reason, I had been spending my Mall trips listening to the same 60+ songs for quite some time…. Or should I have typed, “song”?! I must confess 90% of the time that I used the MP3-player, I was listening to the song “Yoko Ono” by Ben. (Not one I believe I’ve ever heard on TV.) Due to similar problems, I had improvised my last creation of a “playlist” on my player, relying largely on artists I liked, but songs I either knew nothing about, or felt had interesting titles.
(If you need proof, here are my actual “tweets” from one day I hung around the Mall last July: Singing Ben Lee’s “Yoko Ono” while walking around in my shirt from The Monkees’ 1997 tour; I DARE someone to ask me what I think about John Lennon! To say NOTHING of his Uncle Vladimir!!!)
As I alluded to, I spent about 1 of the past 2 months with a working PC in my room, & am ready sometime soon to change the “playlist” with other music I used to have, & things I’ve downloaded since then. However, that is my future, not my past, so a week or two ago, I was still walking down that same hallway between the Gymboree & the jewelry store (neither of which I’ve ever gone in, & no plans to change that), listening to Ben sing about Yoko. (I seriously just checked IMDB to see if she was born in this country or not.) I’ve mouthed the words along with that song more times than I care to count. (I sang solos when I was younger in a church where Mom does so now, & sang in the choirs at church & school after being cast in a “Summer Stock” musical, but nobody is hearing this voice for free outside of this apartment now.)
Suddenly, (some would say) “like something out of a dream” (mine largely involve dying or people in chicken suits), I heard the above-boldfaced lyric repeating in my head. I then found myself dying to figure out how to rewind the song on my player only a few seconds, so I could hear the words again. (I never did figure it out, resigning myself to the fact that if I had, I would’ve done it repeatedly, & my player’s low on battery power anyway.)
A few afternoons later, I was sitting at the computer, visiting Websites while waiting for downloads to finish (much the way I am right now). I opened my Windows Media Player, & started searching my old music library for songs I might like to listen to. I found a song by Ben called, “Running With Scissors“. Recalling this myself as an album by (“Weird”) Al Yankovic, I wondered if perhaps Ben’s song was a cover or a song about Al. I listened to it (recommend you find a way to do the same), & from the opening drumbeat-like sounds, followed by a guitar hook Louie Shelton would’ve never attempted (Take the link if you must!), I was into it in a major way.
Suddenly, the chorus hit, & I was out, especially that line about, “You can’t hear the song until you dance”. After all, I’m the guy who went to my first Gin Blossoms performance, & soon wrote a piece called “White Man’s Burden” about how white guys can’t dance (I don’t try jumping thanks to Woody Harrelson & Wesley Snipes, or dodging taxes), play sports, or do a few other things. (Like have a month where TV stations & shows celebrate our race, unlike some I know.)
However, then came the bridge, which my sister & I have long agreed is the best part of most songs. (Blame it on Billy Joel.) “So don’t ask me for a reason; Don’t look at me for a reason; Don’t look for me cause I’m runnin’ too fast”. I admit that I was probably the slowest kid in my graduating class going back all the way to when I attended the elementary school down the street from where I live tonight. Also, I don’t do all that much running anymore, unless I’m heading from the Mall to: Wendy’s, Best Buy, or the movie-theater, & an approaching motorist gives me the go-ahead wave. (I have a longstanding rule: “If you don’t waste my time, I won’t waste yours,” & that’s true for far more than cars on my “walking trips”.) However, much the way I doubt Ben or Steven Page (until recently of Barenaked Ladies, & the lead singer on “Be My Yoko Ono,” long before he left & they moved on to “The Big Bang Theory” theme song) may have ever met Yoko, I assumed this was more of a writer doing so metaphorically. As a guy who constantly professes to “live Improv”, I was DEFINITELY right back in!
I may-or-may-not do an all-Ben-Lee “playlist” for my MP3-player next week (also, maybe “all Bens”, adding his group with Kweller & Folds, along with Ben Gibbard, leader of Death Cab For Cutie & the Postal Service)… Either way, I thank the Aussies for cheering me up, & apologize if my Steve Irwin impression has added a bit of Southern into the accent in recent years.
NOTE: I feel this blog would be incomplete without mentioning that I’ve never left the continent myself. Also, I own & enjoy many CDs by the co-writer of “Down Under”, Colin Hay… I became a fan of his largely due to Zach Braff. This is somewhat ironic, considering Zach is probably celebrated in his home state of New Jersey, where his first major film (“Garden State”) is set. I own the DVD & soundtrack to that one, & have pictures of myself standing in front of the now-gone building in Jersey one of my favorite bands is named after (they are also on my MP3-player right now), but don’t consider myself to enjoy it as much as I suspect I might Australia… I suppose that is largely because I’ve actually spent time in one & not the other.
2014.3.7
Hey, everyone. If you follow my Twitter feed (I assume most people do both or neither), you know I’ve said maybe one-thing-a-day lately. Allow me to explain that with this special, blog-only post.
There are really two reasons, & they both go back to this blog I posted about 6 weeks ago. One thing is when I left what was then known as “the Renaissance” (ironically, Ma says it has a new name now), my cell-phone battery was entirely dead, so my phone needed replacing. (I replaced it quickly, this time leaving the “predictive text” option on for writing text messages. However, it has bounced off-&-on a few times since then, the cause of it returning often being my sister, who I rarely see, & who is quite busy with her own 3 kids, all of whom are aged in the single digits.) I did a lot of my “Tweeting” before via my phone, so I haven’t done it as much in the New Year. (Often, what I say is a quick idea or question, not worth the time it’d take to type finding/choosing each letter individually.)
The other reason (as I explained on my feed last night) is that I have been attempting to make a change (or two…; Not sure what the number would be really, “if you wanna get tech'”) in my offline life. For me, that takes precedence, because if I don’t have one offline, there’s nobody to write my Twitter feed, & nothing to write it about anyway.
The rest of this blog will be about those changes. (“You’ve been warned…”)
Rereading it to myself just now, I realize I wrote a lot in the earlier blog (linked-to in this one) about my time in Trumbull Memorial Hospital & the Renaissance. What I didn’t mention, it appears, are the other 2 big changes that happened over that time. One is that on one of the days I was in therapy, I was taken by some special transportation group to a new/different endocrinologist. (Not in the mood to “get tech'”?! A doc to treat my long-believed-except-by-me Diabetes.) I had no problem with this, as it was much closer than my then-current endocrinologist, who was quite-literally across state lines.
The other big change I didn’t mention happened while I was still in the Hospital, or so it seems from papers I read about 15 hours ago. A person called, “Dr. Raja” (that remains the name used by most hospital staffers as of this/Thursday morning; I’d type his surname, but you’d be sure I simply dropped my head on my keyboard) filled-out what is referred to around here as an “expert evaluation”. (The paper refers to itself as an “expert evaluation of…”; I admit you lose me after that, as I know what it is, so I’m too mad at the whole situation to read any more of it.)
Long story short, the paper asks the doctor a bunch of questions, each ending with a line for him to fill-in his answers. Man, I wish I could photocopy it or something & put it on this blog! Regardless, just know it’s what I frankly refer to as “a bunch of hooey”. He is first asked his “name & title”, written in the same illegible “chicken-scratch” 80% of my doctors have used. Other questions include how long I’ve been his patient, etc., which I can read well enough to tell you he flat-out lied. (125% honest: When he answered the call at about 10 AM today, I started by saying, “I don’t know when, if ever, we’ve met before,” & he said absolutely nothing to that!!!) This led to someone scheduling a hearing for a few weeks later.
Apparently, attorneys & courts take a few days & every afternoon of the week off, as they scheduled it super-early in the morning. At the time, I was having some weird insomnia deal, so I didn’t get to sleep until 4-or-so that morning, & slept past the hearing. Next thing I know, I have a local guy as my “guardian”, & I am his “ward”. (Trust me; He’d be a worse Batman than Kilmer, Clooney, or even Affleck.)
The upside was I still got to live with my Mom in the same apartments I’d lived in for years. The downside was I can’t spend a single cent without him &/or the courts OKing it. (125% honest again: I’ve had Lunch at 3 different fast-food places this week, ordered what I wanted, & paid with cash from my wallet each time. However, I could have done none of that without first cashing the checks I get in the mail from his office each month. [Want More of the Mess?! All the checks he-or-someone-in-his-office writes come in an envelope addressed (by typewriter or another machine) to Mom, though we live in the same exact place, & every cent is from an account that is not-at-all connected to Mom's name. The check for groceries, as well as the one for $ I spend if I wanna see the new Costner flick or buy The Rock's last movie on DVD?! Both are written out to "Cash" as opposed to my name (which is located right above his on each check), & even the "Memo" line is about "Ward's Groceries" or "Ward's Use"... My name only gets on that check again when I sign them. On top of all that, the rent check is written specifically to Mom. The cable-bill-paying check is written to the cable company, but the court never OKed the new amount when Time Warner raised the cost, so I end-up giving them some of that "grocery" money after I give them the check written to the company!... In the words of Bill Engvall, "You cannot make this stuff up!"]…
…Oh, I re-read this to myself partway (a few times, really), & realized I forgot to put something important in the spending-money part of this: Mere weeks after I got out of “the R”, I found my debit card wouldn’t work at the local bank’s ATM machine. My Mom (a former employee for the same bank-company) & I took it inside, & explained it. They said something I don’t recall now, but know included the word “guardian”. They then proceeded to literally cut the card up with HUGE scissors in front of our faces. On top of that, I now tell people honestly that “without this (guardian) deal, the courts wouldn’t know I existed” & that “I love watching ‘Person of Interest’, but have never been one”. Despite all that, I literally can’t tell you the last time I was able to buy anything online, even from well-known-&-respected retailers like Amazon & EBay. (I still get semi-regular E-mails from EBay about what my “favorite sellers” are selling, & weekly E-mails from Ticketmaster about events that have tickets going on-sale, but am currently telling my Dad I have no clue how we’ll get tickets for the WWE event in June!!!)
Anyhow, in the New Year, aside from avoiding any “resolutions”, I decided on a few things I wanted to change about my life. (One reason I’m not calling them “resolutions” is that, like this one, I have to put things in action, but a lot of it will/will-not happen because of what people other than me do/say.) One of the first things I wanted to change is getting rid of this “guardian”; I never saw a need for him, deny all the reasons I’ve been given for anyone ever deciding I needed one, & actually believe my “legal guardian” to be on a different side of the law with some of his actions. (125% honest yet again: He’s also an attorney, with his last name on the business card, & as the first one said by whoever answers the phone when you call the office.)
I called the Probate Court to see how to end it, since they were the only place I ever went to discuss things with anyone other than my guardian himself. (I’m literally begging you to take that link; On the page it leads to is the name & phone number of the judge that finalized my guardian; Buy a phone card at Target or something, & call him without reason every hour for a day/week/something… I’m serious; Last I checked, courts were largely about being fair & getting justice, so it’s only fair/just he get a few hours wasted the same way he’s wasted countless days & weeks of my time.)
The lady I spoke to there said I needed the same doctor that filled-out the first evaluation to fill-out another, saying the opposite of what he’d said the first time. (In this case, he’d be telling the truth this time, which before all this crap, I thought was important to courts & law officials!) I called the number next to his name, which connected me to the hospital, who told me he was unavailable, but would be “on call” today (Thursday).
I called about 10 this morning & had him paged (as they’d instructed). He told me he only saw people “in the hospital” or “in emergencies”. (He said both during our conversation, never even approaching claiming he’d ever seen my name or face, even in the newspaper!!) He then told me “whatever doctor you’re seeing now” could fill-out the new evaluation.
I called the Probate Court again. (Don’t waste time; Start dialing that number as you read this last paragraph!!) They went further, saying “any doctor you want” could fill it out. Deciding to be sure & be straight/honest with them (despite the way they had not done so with me), I called the doctor I’ve been seeing the past several years. I now have an appointment in darn-close 2 weeks, when it’s noted we’ll be discussing the (“potential”, according to his nurse) end of this “guardianship”.
Hey, everyone. If you follow my Twitter feed (I assume most people do both or neither), you know I’ve said maybe one-thing-a-day lately. Allow me to explain that with this special, blog-only post.
There are really two reasons, & they both go back to this blog I posted about 6 weeks ago. One thing is when I left what was then known as “the Renaissance” (ironically, Ma says it has a new name now), my cell-phone battery was entirely dead, so my phone needed replacing. (I replaced it quickly, this time leaving the “predictive text” option on for writing text messages. However, it has bounced off-&-on a few times since then, the cause of it returning often being my sister, who I rarely see, & who is quite busy with her own 3 kids, all of whom are aged in the single digits.) I did a lot of my “Tweeting” before via my phone, so I haven’t done it as much in the New Year. (Often, what I say is a quick idea or question, not worth the time it’d take to type finding/choosing each letter individually.)
The other reason (as I explained on my feed last night) is that I have been attempting to make a change (or two…; Not sure what the number would be really, “if you wanna get tech'”) in my offline life. For me, that takes precedence, because if I don’t have one offline, there’s nobody to write my Twitter feed, & nothing to write it about anyway.
The rest of this blog will be about those changes. (“You’ve been warned…”)
Rereading it to myself just now, I realize I wrote a lot in the earlier blog (linked-to in this one) about my time in Trumbull Memorial Hospital & the Renaissance. What I didn’t mention, it appears, are the other 2 big changes that happened over that time. One is that on one of the days I was in therapy, I was taken by some special transportation group to a new/different endocrinologist. (Not in the mood to “get tech'”?! A doc to treat my long-believed-except-by-me Diabetes.) I had no problem with this, as it was much closer than my then-current endocrinologist, who was quite-literally across state lines.
The other big change I didn’t mention happened while I was still in the Hospital, or so it seems from papers I read about 15 hours ago. A person called, “Dr. Raja” (that remains the name used by most hospital staffers as of this/Thursday morning; I’d type his surname, but you’d be sure I simply dropped my head on my keyboard) filled-out what is referred to around here as an “expert evaluation”. (The paper refers to itself as an “expert evaluation of…”; I admit you lose me after that, as I know what it is, so I’m too mad at the whole situation to read any more of it.)
Long story short, the paper asks the doctor a bunch of questions, each ending with a line for him to fill-in his answers. Man, I wish I could photocopy it or something & put it on this blog! Regardless, just know it’s what I frankly refer to as “a bunch of hooey”. He is first asked his “name & title”, written in the same illegible “chicken-scratch” 80% of my doctors have used. Other questions include how long I’ve been his patient, etc., which I can read well enough to tell you he flat-out lied. (125% honest: When he answered the call at about 10 AM today, I started by saying, “I don’t know when, if ever, we’ve met before,” & he said absolutely nothing to that!!!) This led to someone scheduling a hearing for a few weeks later.
Apparently, attorneys & courts take a few days & every afternoon of the week off, as they scheduled it super-early in the morning. At the time, I was having some weird insomnia deal, so I didn’t get to sleep until 4-or-so that morning, & slept past the hearing. Next thing I know, I have a local guy as my “guardian”, & I am his “ward”. (Trust me; He’d be a worse Batman than Kilmer, Clooney, or even Affleck.)
The upside was I still got to live with my Mom in the same apartments I’d lived in for years. The downside was I can’t spend a single cent without him &/or the courts OKing it. (125% honest again: I’ve had Lunch at 3 different fast-food places this week, ordered what I wanted, & paid with cash from my wallet each time. However, I could have done none of that without first cashing the checks I get in the mail from his office each month. [Want More of the Mess?! All the checks he-or-someone-in-his-office writes come in an envelope addressed (by typewriter or another machine) to Mom, though we live in the same exact place, & every cent is from an account that is not-at-all connected to Mom's name. The check for groceries, as well as the one for $ I spend if I wanna see the new Costner flick or buy The Rock's last movie on DVD?! Both are written out to "Cash" as opposed to my name (which is located right above his on each check), & even the "Memo" line is about "Ward's Groceries" or "Ward's Use"... My name only gets on that check again when I sign them. On top of all that, the rent check is written specifically to Mom. The cable-bill-paying check is written to the cable company, but the court never OKed the new amount when Time Warner raised the cost, so I end-up giving them some of that "grocery" money after I give them the check written to the company!... In the words of Bill Engvall, "You cannot make this stuff up!"]…
…Oh, I re-read this to myself partway (a few times, really), & realized I forgot to put something important in the spending-money part of this: Mere weeks after I got out of “the R”, I found my debit card wouldn’t work at the local bank’s ATM machine. My Mom (a former employee for the same bank-company) & I took it inside, & explained it. They said something I don’t recall now, but know included the word “guardian”. They then proceeded to literally cut the card up with HUGE scissors in front of our faces. On top of that, I now tell people honestly that “without this (guardian) deal, the courts wouldn’t know I existed” & that “I love watching ‘Person of Interest’, but have never been one”. Despite all that, I literally can’t tell you the last time I was able to buy anything online, even from well-known-&-respected retailers like Amazon & EBay. (I still get semi-regular E-mails from EBay about what my “favorite sellers” are selling, & weekly E-mails from Ticketmaster about events that have tickets going on-sale, but am currently telling my Dad I have no clue how we’ll get tickets for the WWE event in June!!!)
Anyhow, in the New Year, aside from avoiding any “resolutions”, I decided on a few things I wanted to change about my life. (One reason I’m not calling them “resolutions” is that, like this one, I have to put things in action, but a lot of it will/will-not happen because of what people other than me do/say.) One of the first things I wanted to change is getting rid of this “guardian”; I never saw a need for him, deny all the reasons I’ve been given for anyone ever deciding I needed one, & actually believe my “legal guardian” to be on a different side of the law with some of his actions. (125% honest yet again: He’s also an attorney, with his last name on the business card, & as the first one said by whoever answers the phone when you call the office.)
I called the Probate Court to see how to end it, since they were the only place I ever went to discuss things with anyone other than my guardian himself. (I’m literally begging you to take that link; On the page it leads to is the name & phone number of the judge that finalized my guardian; Buy a phone card at Target or something, & call him without reason every hour for a day/week/something… I’m serious; Last I checked, courts were largely about being fair & getting justice, so it’s only fair/just he get a few hours wasted the same way he’s wasted countless days & weeks of my time.)
The lady I spoke to there said I needed the same doctor that filled-out the first evaluation to fill-out another, saying the opposite of what he’d said the first time. (In this case, he’d be telling the truth this time, which before all this crap, I thought was important to courts & law officials!) I called the number next to his name, which connected me to the hospital, who told me he was unavailable, but would be “on call” today (Thursday).
I called about 10 this morning & had him paged (as they’d instructed). He told me he only saw people “in the hospital” or “in emergencies”. (He said both during our conversation, never even approaching claiming he’d ever seen my name or face, even in the newspaper!!) He then told me “whatever doctor you’re seeing now” could fill-out the new evaluation.
I called the Probate Court again. (Don’t waste time; Start dialing that number as you read this last paragraph!!) They went further, saying “any doctor you want” could fill it out. Deciding to be sure & be straight/honest with them (despite the way they had not done so with me), I called the doctor I’ve been seeing the past several years. I now have an appointment in darn-close 2 weeks, when it’s noted we’ll be discussing the (“potential”, according to his nurse) end of this “guardianship”.
2014.3.15
I apologize at the start of this one if you’ve been waiting for a follow-up on my last blog. (Of course, if you do the math, you know my meeting about ending the whole spiel hasn’t happened yet.) I also apologize if you follow my Twitter feed, as it must feel like that old cartoon thing I remember from “Sesame Street” where the detective dude was following a long-repeating stretch of “line… dot… line… dot,” & all that. [I looked for it on YouTube, & only got a REAL-old video by Chuck Jones; I love Looney Tunes as much as the next guy (maybe more), but it's not what I'm looking for. This leads me to wonder if they still showed it on the program as my nephew was growing-up... May E-mail sister later.]
Anyhow, let me settle things a bit for all of you: I have said even less on Twitter (that would interest most people), & as I said, all appointments & meetings are still upcoming. What have I been doing to kill that time? A lot of reading & watching TV. (Mainly Kristen Bell interviews, even though things mentioned in the last blog blocked me from taking part in that Kickstarter deal for the movie, which it appears isn’t playing anywhere near here anyway.)
Anyhow, regardless of if you’ve read anything I’ve written or not, one thing that has NOT changed (& may never) is I’m still addicted to TV, though I lately notice myself moving less to “reality” shows & more toward the scripted variety (though I still set timers for “WWE Raw”, as well as “Amazing Race” & the current deal on “Cosmos”). The reason I mention this is due to a show I watched last night: “Suits”.
If you’ve never seen this show before, find a way to get caught-up. It is not, as I (seriously) originally thought, an hour-long commercial for Men’s Wearhouse; It is a show about a law firm (or maybe a group of them; Lawyers working elsewhere seem to show-up at least once a month). Last night, that meant I took a break from my CBS-watching (“Big Bang” & “Elementary” are near-staples) to watch the episode called, “Yesterday’s Gone“.
If you click on any of those last three words, each will take you to a different place about this specific episode: The IMDB page, a few “preview” clips, & an after-airing review. What you will not see (I Googled, but again came-up empty) is what I am dying to find: Some sort of script… Why? I’ll tell you. (Forget reading further if you didn’t read the previous blog.)
As I said in my previous blog, I am trying to change a situation in my life that involves a crapload…. Literally, a load of utter crap/trash being spouted by people who spend their professional lives as doctors, lawyers, & perhaps even a judge. (Literally a constant debate in my head of how big a role he plays in this; I maintain my respect for him, thinking he is doing the right thing based on things he hears/reads from the others he honestly believes to be true that I & the aforementioned “others” know is not.)
Anyhow, on last night’s episode, one of the key characters (who is living with a lie told very early in the show’s run) was dealing with his lie being found-out while also trying to work a case. One of the “name partners” of the main firm (I believe so-called because her surname is part of the name of the firm) was called to testify on the stand for a case she was personally involved in. In both cases (or “situations”; Pick a word, like a card game), they said things (I know this because my ears suck, & this PC is the only place I don’t use a hearing aid &/or captions) about things being about the truth & not the law.
The second the episode was over, it was almost time for me to take my nightly pills & Lantus insulin shot. [One place my personal deal/case gets "hinky" (to quote actor Gary Grubbs on an oft-seen episode of "Will & Grace", ironically a show involving a ton of fictional law-practicing) is one reason I got the guardian (or so I hear) was my refusal I have Diabetes. I continue to refuse over a Decade After Diagnosis (DAD), but also continue to check my blood-sugar & take/accept insulin quite-regularly.] But first, I stopped to tell Mom (already in her bed) how much I wished I could find a way to send that episode to all the doctors, lawyers, & other so-called “professionals” involved in my case, who I’ve noticed (I wrote about this in the last blog) will neither confirm nor deny their own lying as it pertains to me.
Anyhow, I know I already covered in this blog that I’ve spent a lot of the recent time watching TV… Not gonna lie about that. But in actuality, I am simultaneously doing that while 1] counting & 2] thinking…
1] I am counting the amount of time I have left until the appointment with my longtime “general doc”. (I call him that instead of my “family doctor”, the way some of my other doctors refer to him. My immediate family all sees different people, but he’s the guy I go to for the basics: Flu shot, etc.) He is the one (as I believe I covered last blog) that I am told will/should fill-out the new evaluation to (“potentially”, it is said, the way the Mayans probably talked about the end of the world 15 months ago, except I believe this one will happen) end the guardianship.
2] I have been thinking about what the doctor will say aloud to me &/or in writing for the evaluation. I have no clue, & care almost as little; What I am near-constantly thinking about is if it will matter at all. As I said last blog, before this situation, I thought courts (or at least judges & the others in the courtrooms) acted based on what was true &/or could be proven. However, I now tell my mother nightly that I honestly believe “Dr. Raja” (the Dr. that filled-out the original evaluation starting me on the path to getting a guardian), my “general doc” (who I have seen since long before the guardianship deal ever began), President Obama (who I have voted for twice, on a side-note), & God himself (or Mohammed/Buddha; Again, pick one) could all walk into that courtroom simultaneously, say individually in that order that I don’t need a guardian anymore (& in the first case, admit I never did), & I’ll still have one next Fall.
I apologize at the start of this one if you’ve been waiting for a follow-up on my last blog. (Of course, if you do the math, you know my meeting about ending the whole spiel hasn’t happened yet.) I also apologize if you follow my Twitter feed, as it must feel like that old cartoon thing I remember from “Sesame Street” where the detective dude was following a long-repeating stretch of “line… dot… line… dot,” & all that. [I looked for it on YouTube, & only got a REAL-old video by Chuck Jones; I love Looney Tunes as much as the next guy (maybe more), but it's not what I'm looking for. This leads me to wonder if they still showed it on the program as my nephew was growing-up... May E-mail sister later.]
Anyhow, let me settle things a bit for all of you: I have said even less on Twitter (that would interest most people), & as I said, all appointments & meetings are still upcoming. What have I been doing to kill that time? A lot of reading & watching TV. (Mainly Kristen Bell interviews, even though things mentioned in the last blog blocked me from taking part in that Kickstarter deal for the movie, which it appears isn’t playing anywhere near here anyway.)
Anyhow, regardless of if you’ve read anything I’ve written or not, one thing that has NOT changed (& may never) is I’m still addicted to TV, though I lately notice myself moving less to “reality” shows & more toward the scripted variety (though I still set timers for “WWE Raw”, as well as “Amazing Race” & the current deal on “Cosmos”). The reason I mention this is due to a show I watched last night: “Suits”.
If you’ve never seen this show before, find a way to get caught-up. It is not, as I (seriously) originally thought, an hour-long commercial for Men’s Wearhouse; It is a show about a law firm (or maybe a group of them; Lawyers working elsewhere seem to show-up at least once a month). Last night, that meant I took a break from my CBS-watching (“Big Bang” & “Elementary” are near-staples) to watch the episode called, “Yesterday’s Gone“.
If you click on any of those last three words, each will take you to a different place about this specific episode: The IMDB page, a few “preview” clips, & an after-airing review. What you will not see (I Googled, but again came-up empty) is what I am dying to find: Some sort of script… Why? I’ll tell you. (Forget reading further if you didn’t read the previous blog.)
As I said in my previous blog, I am trying to change a situation in my life that involves a crapload…. Literally, a load of utter crap/trash being spouted by people who spend their professional lives as doctors, lawyers, & perhaps even a judge. (Literally a constant debate in my head of how big a role he plays in this; I maintain my respect for him, thinking he is doing the right thing based on things he hears/reads from the others he honestly believes to be true that I & the aforementioned “others” know is not.)
Anyhow, on last night’s episode, one of the key characters (who is living with a lie told very early in the show’s run) was dealing with his lie being found-out while also trying to work a case. One of the “name partners” of the main firm (I believe so-called because her surname is part of the name of the firm) was called to testify on the stand for a case she was personally involved in. In both cases (or “situations”; Pick a word, like a card game), they said things (I know this because my ears suck, & this PC is the only place I don’t use a hearing aid &/or captions) about things being about the truth & not the law.
The second the episode was over, it was almost time for me to take my nightly pills & Lantus insulin shot. [One place my personal deal/case gets "hinky" (to quote actor Gary Grubbs on an oft-seen episode of "Will & Grace", ironically a show involving a ton of fictional law-practicing) is one reason I got the guardian (or so I hear) was my refusal I have Diabetes. I continue to refuse over a Decade After Diagnosis (DAD), but also continue to check my blood-sugar & take/accept insulin quite-regularly.] But first, I stopped to tell Mom (already in her bed) how much I wished I could find a way to send that episode to all the doctors, lawyers, & other so-called “professionals” involved in my case, who I’ve noticed (I wrote about this in the last blog) will neither confirm nor deny their own lying as it pertains to me.
Anyhow, I know I already covered in this blog that I’ve spent a lot of the recent time watching TV… Not gonna lie about that. But in actuality, I am simultaneously doing that while 1] counting & 2] thinking…
1] I am counting the amount of time I have left until the appointment with my longtime “general doc”. (I call him that instead of my “family doctor”, the way some of my other doctors refer to him. My immediate family all sees different people, but he’s the guy I go to for the basics: Flu shot, etc.) He is the one (as I believe I covered last blog) that I am told will/should fill-out the new evaluation to (“potentially”, it is said, the way the Mayans probably talked about the end of the world 15 months ago, except I believe this one will happen) end the guardianship.
2] I have been thinking about what the doctor will say aloud to me &/or in writing for the evaluation. I have no clue, & care almost as little; What I am near-constantly thinking about is if it will matter at all. As I said last blog, before this situation, I thought courts (or at least judges & the others in the courtrooms) acted based on what was true &/or could be proven. However, I now tell my mother nightly that I honestly believe “Dr. Raja” (the Dr. that filled-out the original evaluation starting me on the path to getting a guardian), my “general doc” (who I have seen since long before the guardianship deal ever began), President Obama (who I have voted for twice, on a side-note), & God himself (or Mohammed/Buddha; Again, pick one) could all walk into that courtroom simultaneously, say individually in that order that I don’t need a guardian anymore (& in the first case, admit I never did), & I’ll still have one next Fall.
2014.3.20
While I do believe I’m genetically Irish on both sides (surely on Mom’s, have never been sure about Dad’s), that title is not meant to be any kind of curve on the song title, “Finnegan’s Wake“, though the mere thought of the song plays the title in my head in my Uncle Bill’s voice. (Easy explanation: Here‘s a YouTube video of him playing it with a band at a place within walking distance of where I live. My Uncle’s not listed as a member on the group’s main site, but he was one for a large majority of my life.) Anyhow, I’ve never been much of a guy for St. Patrick’s Day, which is to say this blog’s title refers to an actual cage used a few times on “Gilligan’s Island”.
I’ve tried hard to keep my age out of these blogs, but suffice it to say I wasn’t alive in the ’60s. That said, I’ve told people many times I couldn’t have lived back then. That has nothing to do with the drugs, JFK, or any of that; I read in a book a while back that “The Monkees” aired at the same exact time as “Gilligan’s Island”. I used to watch the American Fab Four on TV every weekend to the point my decades-younger nephew became a fan, but haven’t found it airing in a while. Meanwhile, TVLand has been airing “Gilligan” seemingly forever on recent weeknights. This leads me to keep watching for a few of my favorite episodes. (One recent watch was “Don’t Bug The Mosquitoes”, a classic in my opinion.)
Anyway, a YouTube search now is showing me nothing… Suffice it to say that on a few different episodes, some/all of the regular cast(aways; see what I did there?!) got caught by the weekly visitor (like it was a Caribbean tourist spot or something!), who put them in some sort of prison that was really something made to look like bamboo, 90% of which was actually empty space.
Anyway (promise I’ll get back to it), I’ve recently been thinking about my own legal history, & remember the first PG-13 movie I saw in theaters (waiting for the day I have to explain the meaning of that word to my younger relatives) was when I was 12. It was Jim Carrey’s star-maker, “The Mask”. One of my favorite parts to this day is when he is trying to get the dog to help him while he is imprisoned. (I’m about 50/50 with YouTube today.) The reason I am thinking about that scene with this blog is (as far as I understand/recall it) it was never much when the Gilligan folks were captured for an episode, but “Stanley”/Jim was supposed to be in an actual prison by the lead policeman (who I recall better now from an episode of “Leverage”). What gets me is that I think it would be worse to be in the Gilligan jail! You can barely see Jim’s arms & eyes, & he can barely see the dog or the alley it’s in… Whereas the castaways can see much of the island they’ve inhabited a while, but not touch much of it at all! I think that violates the Eighth Amendment! (That was around before “Gilligan”; Right?!)
Well, I didn’t read any of my old blogs to myself before starting this one (I usually do), but suffice it to say the “guardianship” (the legal-jargon word for it) is OVER… “If you wanna get tech’.” (That’s when I switch from their words & phrases to mine.) The “general doctor” I’ve seen a few years agreed with Mom & I this morning that the whole thing doesn’t need to continue anymore. When I got home, I called my sister (& the younger of my 2 nephews) with the news. She suggested I call the guardian & talk to him about it. I did so, & he told me I should drop the papers my doc filled-out & signed at the court(house). When I do that, he told me, they’ll file them & have a hearing before they “will probably end the guardianship”.
Most people who “follow” me on Twitter & things are probably waiting for me to post the date of the party, but I ain’t gonna do that. Not that I don’t like to celebrate these things (much as a person believed to be Diabetic can), but I refuse to do so until this whole thing is actually, completely finished.
Catch me up here: A doctor I’ve never honestly met filled-out an “expert evaluation” on me that led to me “getting” this guardian. A doctor I’ve seen regularly for years filled-out the same papers, this time saying it should be “terminated”… Yet I have to wait an unknown amount of time for that to happen?!
I considered going to the local bookstore today & buying a book I saw listed with a VERY-low price on their Website. I may not do that now, though; I’d be well within sight of the bank I’ve gone to for years, the same place they destroyed my last debit card & may be waiting for April’s checks that may still come with my guardian’s name printed on them.
While I do believe I’m genetically Irish on both sides (surely on Mom’s, have never been sure about Dad’s), that title is not meant to be any kind of curve on the song title, “Finnegan’s Wake“, though the mere thought of the song plays the title in my head in my Uncle Bill’s voice. (Easy explanation: Here‘s a YouTube video of him playing it with a band at a place within walking distance of where I live. My Uncle’s not listed as a member on the group’s main site, but he was one for a large majority of my life.) Anyhow, I’ve never been much of a guy for St. Patrick’s Day, which is to say this blog’s title refers to an actual cage used a few times on “Gilligan’s Island”.
I’ve tried hard to keep my age out of these blogs, but suffice it to say I wasn’t alive in the ’60s. That said, I’ve told people many times I couldn’t have lived back then. That has nothing to do with the drugs, JFK, or any of that; I read in a book a while back that “The Monkees” aired at the same exact time as “Gilligan’s Island”. I used to watch the American Fab Four on TV every weekend to the point my decades-younger nephew became a fan, but haven’t found it airing in a while. Meanwhile, TVLand has been airing “Gilligan” seemingly forever on recent weeknights. This leads me to keep watching for a few of my favorite episodes. (One recent watch was “Don’t Bug The Mosquitoes”, a classic in my opinion.)
Anyway, a YouTube search now is showing me nothing… Suffice it to say that on a few different episodes, some/all of the regular cast(aways; see what I did there?!) got caught by the weekly visitor (like it was a Caribbean tourist spot or something!), who put them in some sort of prison that was really something made to look like bamboo, 90% of which was actually empty space.
Anyway (promise I’ll get back to it), I’ve recently been thinking about my own legal history, & remember the first PG-13 movie I saw in theaters (waiting for the day I have to explain the meaning of that word to my younger relatives) was when I was 12. It was Jim Carrey’s star-maker, “The Mask”. One of my favorite parts to this day is when he is trying to get the dog to help him while he is imprisoned. (I’m about 50/50 with YouTube today.) The reason I am thinking about that scene with this blog is (as far as I understand/recall it) it was never much when the Gilligan folks were captured for an episode, but “Stanley”/Jim was supposed to be in an actual prison by the lead policeman (who I recall better now from an episode of “Leverage”). What gets me is that I think it would be worse to be in the Gilligan jail! You can barely see Jim’s arms & eyes, & he can barely see the dog or the alley it’s in… Whereas the castaways can see much of the island they’ve inhabited a while, but not touch much of it at all! I think that violates the Eighth Amendment! (That was around before “Gilligan”; Right?!)
Well, I didn’t read any of my old blogs to myself before starting this one (I usually do), but suffice it to say the “guardianship” (the legal-jargon word for it) is OVER… “If you wanna get tech’.” (That’s when I switch from their words & phrases to mine.) The “general doctor” I’ve seen a few years agreed with Mom & I this morning that the whole thing doesn’t need to continue anymore. When I got home, I called my sister (& the younger of my 2 nephews) with the news. She suggested I call the guardian & talk to him about it. I did so, & he told me I should drop the papers my doc filled-out & signed at the court(house). When I do that, he told me, they’ll file them & have a hearing before they “will probably end the guardianship”.
Most people who “follow” me on Twitter & things are probably waiting for me to post the date of the party, but I ain’t gonna do that. Not that I don’t like to celebrate these things (much as a person believed to be Diabetic can), but I refuse to do so until this whole thing is actually, completely finished.
Catch me up here: A doctor I’ve never honestly met filled-out an “expert evaluation” on me that led to me “getting” this guardian. A doctor I’ve seen regularly for years filled-out the same papers, this time saying it should be “terminated”… Yet I have to wait an unknown amount of time for that to happen?!
I considered going to the local bookstore today & buying a book I saw listed with a VERY-low price on their Website. I may not do that now, though; I’d be well within sight of the bank I’ve gone to for years, the same place they destroyed my last debit card & may be waiting for April’s checks that may still come with my guardian’s name printed on them.
2014.3.27
So, some things just don’t change; There I go again, stealing titles (though I also continue to question if it’s “stealing” when I admit it & give credit). This time, the title comes from a song from the (perhaps-little-known) movie, “Grease 2“. My sister (who played a major part in getting me into musicals in the first place) might kill me for writing this, but I believe “Grease 2″ to be one of the honestly-rare sequels that is better than the original film. (I say this within eyesight of my recently-purchased DVD of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret Of The Ooze”.) The female lead is Michelle Pfeiffer, certainly still famous for other (less-musical) work she’s done. Meanwhile, the male lead is a British guy who may largely be unknown in the States. (If you need a musical connection, try the scene here, where his character is not seen, but mentioned; The female in most of the scene is also not all that well-known, but one look & listen will tell you which ex-“Idol” judge & now-&-forever Rock Hall-of-Famer she’s related to.)
I’ve actually got that film (& not “Grease 2″) in my DVD collection. Regardless, the questions I truly have are not about any of the movies, their casts, or their crews, but myself. They are far-more-important questions [excuse me while I channel the announcers for soap operas &/or episodes of "Batman" (in which case I, personally, choose Val Kilmer over Christian Bale & most of the others)], having to do with my future, & if I should even have one.
I promise any & all readers that I will update you if the situation with my “legal” guardianship changes. (As I’ve said to my family many times, “I’ll sign it in blood; That means nothing to me.”) It hasn’t. In fact, in 12 hours, it will be over a week since I gave the necessary paperwork (for my part of things, anyway, according to the courts themselves) to the secretary at the county’s Probate Court, & she told me she’d “see that it gets there” (as I believe I wrote in the prior blog). Now, “see that it gets” where?! I got no clue. Gets to fill-in-the-blank by when?! Just as little clue. So who there can do what with it?! As I’ve said for a decade-plus, I’ll tell you if & when I know.
That’s just it, see. I’m admittedly a born skeptic. As I believe I blogged before, I live much of my life the same way I grew up thinking judges conducted their business: Show me proof, or the damage to your car doesn’t exist. Play me a tape/DVD, or the conversation never happened. Should this site go South the same way my old blogs on a few different sites have, & in less than a month, I’ll deny I ever wrote any of this. (A few of my past blogs are hand-written in various notebooks, but this one is being written literally “every word the second I think of it”.) Therefore, as far as I know, that same secretary has the papers I gave her sitting on her desk right now. Have they moved from her right to left side?! Don’t know or care. Are there more papers above or below it?! If so, they probably aren’t about me, so same “deal-io”. The fact is if I felt like going through that metal detector again, I might take a little walk downtown in about 10 hours, & prove to myself whether or not they’re still on that desk…. Whether the answer is “Yes” or “No”, at least then, I would know.
But the thing is this: Often, I live my life watching TV, equal parts “reality” & “scripted”. (“Psych” series finale & live “After-Pshow” yesterday… “Inside The Actors Studio”, “Suits”, & “Money Talks” tonight.) Often, I will buy food (like the 2 boxes of pizza rolls yesterday) based on what I plan to watch while I eat them. Regardless, I count those shows often as much as I do Laker games when it comes to having something to look forward to. “Having something to look forward to” has been a major thing for me ever since I was diagnosed as any type of Diabetic (though I denied it soon after, & will literally until the second I die). Ironically, right this second, that may have an effect on when that second happens to be.
See, the first person ever named as my legal guardian told me 1-on-1 himself he believed when I got that aforementioned paperwork to that aforementioned person at the Courts, he bet they’d have a hearing, & “probably” terminate the guardianship. If & (I’m betting) when they do that, I will put it all over Twitter, my blogs, & half-a-dozen message boards when & where the party is. Considering I’ve never dated anyone, & don’t plan on college, marriage, or kids, that may be the top moment of my adult life! But right now, I’ve said & done everything I was told to. I have a semi-confirmed decent idea what the results of that hearing will be, & a real-good idea what I’ll wear & say there. The one bit of info that eludes me is when it will be. That is not for me to decide, & nothing I’m aware of I say or do will change whatever day or time it is set for, nor when that day/time is set. Until then, there’s not a darn thing I can do, nor do I see a real reason for doing anything.
I’ve been “living improv” for over a decade. Even so, I have much of my autobiography saved on this computer. (Opening a Microsoft Word document with Wordpad gets a bunch of extra spaces, symbols, & stuff in a bunch of places in it.) I also printed-out some plans for my funeral I-don’t-know-how-long ago, including what I should wear (clothes from high school still fit me, if they aren’t too big on me now; Suspect I’ve lost weight!). Good thing, as this may be the last blog I post.
Thank you to all readers (if in fact this one has had any), & Goodbye.
So, some things just don’t change; There I go again, stealing titles (though I also continue to question if it’s “stealing” when I admit it & give credit). This time, the title comes from a song from the (perhaps-little-known) movie, “Grease 2“. My sister (who played a major part in getting me into musicals in the first place) might kill me for writing this, but I believe “Grease 2″ to be one of the honestly-rare sequels that is better than the original film. (I say this within eyesight of my recently-purchased DVD of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret Of The Ooze”.) The female lead is Michelle Pfeiffer, certainly still famous for other (less-musical) work she’s done. Meanwhile, the male lead is a British guy who may largely be unknown in the States. (If you need a musical connection, try the scene here, where his character is not seen, but mentioned; The female in most of the scene is also not all that well-known, but one look & listen will tell you which ex-“Idol” judge & now-&-forever Rock Hall-of-Famer she’s related to.)
I’ve actually got that film (& not “Grease 2″) in my DVD collection. Regardless, the questions I truly have are not about any of the movies, their casts, or their crews, but myself. They are far-more-important questions [excuse me while I channel the announcers for soap operas &/or episodes of "Batman" (in which case I, personally, choose Val Kilmer over Christian Bale & most of the others)], having to do with my future, & if I should even have one.
I promise any & all readers that I will update you if the situation with my “legal” guardianship changes. (As I’ve said to my family many times, “I’ll sign it in blood; That means nothing to me.”) It hasn’t. In fact, in 12 hours, it will be over a week since I gave the necessary paperwork (for my part of things, anyway, according to the courts themselves) to the secretary at the county’s Probate Court, & she told me she’d “see that it gets there” (as I believe I wrote in the prior blog). Now, “see that it gets” where?! I got no clue. Gets to fill-in-the-blank by when?! Just as little clue. So who there can do what with it?! As I’ve said for a decade-plus, I’ll tell you if & when I know.
That’s just it, see. I’m admittedly a born skeptic. As I believe I blogged before, I live much of my life the same way I grew up thinking judges conducted their business: Show me proof, or the damage to your car doesn’t exist. Play me a tape/DVD, or the conversation never happened. Should this site go South the same way my old blogs on a few different sites have, & in less than a month, I’ll deny I ever wrote any of this. (A few of my past blogs are hand-written in various notebooks, but this one is being written literally “every word the second I think of it”.) Therefore, as far as I know, that same secretary has the papers I gave her sitting on her desk right now. Have they moved from her right to left side?! Don’t know or care. Are there more papers above or below it?! If so, they probably aren’t about me, so same “deal-io”. The fact is if I felt like going through that metal detector again, I might take a little walk downtown in about 10 hours, & prove to myself whether or not they’re still on that desk…. Whether the answer is “Yes” or “No”, at least then, I would know.
But the thing is this: Often, I live my life watching TV, equal parts “reality” & “scripted”. (“Psych” series finale & live “After-Pshow” yesterday… “Inside The Actors Studio”, “Suits”, & “Money Talks” tonight.) Often, I will buy food (like the 2 boxes of pizza rolls yesterday) based on what I plan to watch while I eat them. Regardless, I count those shows often as much as I do Laker games when it comes to having something to look forward to. “Having something to look forward to” has been a major thing for me ever since I was diagnosed as any type of Diabetic (though I denied it soon after, & will literally until the second I die). Ironically, right this second, that may have an effect on when that second happens to be.
See, the first person ever named as my legal guardian told me 1-on-1 himself he believed when I got that aforementioned paperwork to that aforementioned person at the Courts, he bet they’d have a hearing, & “probably” terminate the guardianship. If & (I’m betting) when they do that, I will put it all over Twitter, my blogs, & half-a-dozen message boards when & where the party is. Considering I’ve never dated anyone, & don’t plan on college, marriage, or kids, that may be the top moment of my adult life! But right now, I’ve said & done everything I was told to. I have a semi-confirmed decent idea what the results of that hearing will be, & a real-good idea what I’ll wear & say there. The one bit of info that eludes me is when it will be. That is not for me to decide, & nothing I’m aware of I say or do will change whatever day or time it is set for, nor when that day/time is set. Until then, there’s not a darn thing I can do, nor do I see a real reason for doing anything.
I’ve been “living improv” for over a decade. Even so, I have much of my autobiography saved on this computer. (Opening a Microsoft Word document with Wordpad gets a bunch of extra spaces, symbols, & stuff in a bunch of places in it.) I also printed-out some plans for my funeral I-don’t-know-how-long ago, including what I should wear (clothes from high school still fit me, if they aren’t too big on me now; Suspect I’ve lost weight!). Good thing, as this may be the last blog I post.
Thank you to all readers (if in fact this one has had any), & Goodbye.
2014.4.12
So, the slowly-decreasing wrestling fan in me wants to give you what I/it feels is a VERY IMPORTANT 3-count of links:
1] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.co...oes-out-on-its-own-the-story-of-my-lost-time/
2] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/gilligans-cage/
3] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.co...-other-questions-feel-free-to-submit-answers/
In case it’s not flat-out obvious from the links themselves, those are all earlier blogs also written by & about me. Long story short, they are in sequential/chronological order, & tell you the basic story of me & my “guardian”. In the title of the first one, I allude to me getting out of last month on my own. If you can’t tell from how this one is going, that never happened… Technically. I can say, “never” because March is over, & I didn’t end it on my own. However, when anyone in this world deals with me, they deal with whatever version of me I feel is right for the time/situation. That means if you’re my Dad or either of my nephews, we’ll probably have a decent laugh or two. If, however, you post your opinion in response to mine on some article online, & that post includes calling me a “nimrod”, you may want to post your next response standing-up (if you get what I’m saying).
Just the other day, therefore, I called the Probate Court on the phone again, curious what (if any) progress had been made on my case. (True story: I was unable to get the phone number off the Website I linked to in a previous blog, due to my PC once again being with the “Geek Squad”. I called the number specifically-given in the phone book for “Guardianship”. When I explained my situation, I was put on hold while she connected me to “the guardianship…” secretary/assistant. Who/What was she, then?!)
I talked to the next woman, who it seemed had just seen my name/case recently. She put me on hold for a much-shorter time, after which she told me my hearing (which, as previously expressed, I expect will bring the total end of this never-needed “guardianship”) will be the 24th of this month, & also (contrary to what I posted previously about courts taking afternoons off) at 2 in the afternoon. On top of all that, I do have a doctor’s appointment that same day, but it’s before Noon, & appointments with that guy never take an Hour, so I’ll be ready & out in plenty of time. (The only thing that gets me: She said I’d be getting mail on it “today or tomorrow”, & it’s been two days, during which I’ve gotten nothing. Is it OK to start to doubt her or be curious, or should I then be careful what I wish for?!)
Here’s the thing, though: As I sit here, I’m fully-dressed. (Shoes don’t matter indoors; Right?!) I’m sitting with my knees practically in my stomach, but sitting on the couch a few hours ago (still addicted to TV, even a few decade-old sitcom repeats), everything “from my ankles to my shunt” (near the top of my head) was hurting/causing me problems. I continue to stay away from the hospital (tomorrow will be day 450 if I counted right just now), & am well-aware sounding the least bit suicidal (“a danger to myself or others”, to basically quote an old episode of “The Practice”) will leave me attached to some “guardian” for at least another year…
… So what do I do if I’m in body-cast-levels of pain for the next 2 weeks?!
So, the slowly-decreasing wrestling fan in me wants to give you what I/it feels is a VERY IMPORTANT 3-count of links:
1] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.co...oes-out-on-its-own-the-story-of-my-lost-time/
2] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.com/2014/03/20/gilligans-cage/
3] http://blogenfarcement.wordpress.co...-other-questions-feel-free-to-submit-answers/
In case it’s not flat-out obvious from the links themselves, those are all earlier blogs also written by & about me. Long story short, they are in sequential/chronological order, & tell you the basic story of me & my “guardian”. In the title of the first one, I allude to me getting out of last month on my own. If you can’t tell from how this one is going, that never happened… Technically. I can say, “never” because March is over, & I didn’t end it on my own. However, when anyone in this world deals with me, they deal with whatever version of me I feel is right for the time/situation. That means if you’re my Dad or either of my nephews, we’ll probably have a decent laugh or two. If, however, you post your opinion in response to mine on some article online, & that post includes calling me a “nimrod”, you may want to post your next response standing-up (if you get what I’m saying).
Just the other day, therefore, I called the Probate Court on the phone again, curious what (if any) progress had been made on my case. (True story: I was unable to get the phone number off the Website I linked to in a previous blog, due to my PC once again being with the “Geek Squad”. I called the number specifically-given in the phone book for “Guardianship”. When I explained my situation, I was put on hold while she connected me to “the guardianship…” secretary/assistant. Who/What was she, then?!)
I talked to the next woman, who it seemed had just seen my name/case recently. She put me on hold for a much-shorter time, after which she told me my hearing (which, as previously expressed, I expect will bring the total end of this never-needed “guardianship”) will be the 24th of this month, & also (contrary to what I posted previously about courts taking afternoons off) at 2 in the afternoon. On top of all that, I do have a doctor’s appointment that same day, but it’s before Noon, & appointments with that guy never take an Hour, so I’ll be ready & out in plenty of time. (The only thing that gets me: She said I’d be getting mail on it “today or tomorrow”, & it’s been two days, during which I’ve gotten nothing. Is it OK to start to doubt her or be curious, or should I then be careful what I wish for?!)
Here’s the thing, though: As I sit here, I’m fully-dressed. (Shoes don’t matter indoors; Right?!) I’m sitting with my knees practically in my stomach, but sitting on the couch a few hours ago (still addicted to TV, even a few decade-old sitcom repeats), everything “from my ankles to my shunt” (near the top of my head) was hurting/causing me problems. I continue to stay away from the hospital (tomorrow will be day 450 if I counted right just now), & am well-aware sounding the least bit suicidal (“a danger to myself or others”, to basically quote an old episode of “The Practice”) will leave me attached to some “guardian” for at least another year…
… So what do I do if I’m in body-cast-levels of pain for the next 2 weeks?!
2013.4.23
Well, I’m not positive about this… (I think I said it before),… Anyway, I’m not sure I’ve posted it on this particular “URL” (wasn’t that Jason Lee’s name on some show once?!), but I honestly do love what I’ve long referred to as “trick titles”. When I write things (blogs, anyway), I spend most of my time either stealing titles from TV shows, songs, & movies; Or using titles that are tricks on famous titles. (Something like “Old Man & The See,” though I don’t think I’ve ever actually used that one… Maybe if Dad gets us lost on the way to Pittsburgh later this year, I can type that one if-&-when I find my way back.)
Anyway, continuing on this honesty kick (I usually do, though I also create the occasional stories to tell friends & family, because I suspect they know the actual truth & what’s total crap), I must admit I meant to write this blog a few other previous times. (One word not required in that: I didn’t mean to write it at all later! Well, maybe I did… But if I mean to then, I probably will!) I actually gave it a heck of a shot about 3 days ago, but was unable to post it due to some problems I had with a few Websites I tried to include links to. [I'm still curious how many reader(s) my blog get(s), which WordPress doesn't want to tell me, but I try to increase that number by including links to a million various things in each one.]
Anyhow, just closing that up, the title on Sunday (& for many days before that) was going to be something like, “Early In The Morning, Late In The Game”. The idea there is I’ve been up a ton lately early in the day. (Seriously! About the time my Dad goes to work, & the ERs close-up & defer patients to the front doors of the hospital… Or so I think, anyway). I would then have explained that I’ve been doing that largely because I’m tired (clearly) & also because I have one day coming up soon that the time I can sleep is not at all up to me, so I figured it was smart to enjoy that freedom. [No joke; I've spoken & written many times about changing the American Bill of Rights; No problems with the rights it gives me & other Americans (natural-born citizens like me, or naturalized citizens like Craig Ferguson); But I think most citizens focus too much on a few ways to use a few (free speech to state opinions on Websites, etc.), & not enough on some rights, or some other ways to use them.]
Regardless, getting back to the “BIG” deal, let me write now that the title this time is a choice on my part, but only barely, & the time I’m posting this isn’t my choice at all… The major time I won’t be able to sleep at all is coming up tomorrow afternoon, & a major choice will be made then (or due to what happens then) that will certainly affect my life, if not the lives of much of my family, much of the county, state, & perhaps even the nation.
I promise you all: I’m dead-serious about this decision & its results. Don’t believe me?! Allow me to explain.
In July of 2000 (I promise I’ll get to tomorrow), I was in the cast of a musical at a local theatre. (No time to Google right now, but I’ve got programs & newspaper articles within this room that prove it.) It was a show few if any in the cast had been aware of for more than a few weeks. A man who was a professor at that college (it was a college’s “Summer Stock”), as well as a member of the cast, explained to most of us that the better-known shows (such as “Guys & Dolls”, which they had done the previous Summer) cost more to be able to put on. Then & there, some 17-year-old guy in the cast told himself he’d write a show, they could work-out a deal to get the rights cheaply, & the venue would also get the big announcement this “guy” believed any “world premiere” is.
Almost a year later, this same guy was well on his way to completing the show. Unfortunately, he had an unfortunate mishap at a doctor’s appointment, where that doctor (since out of practice) led him to the hospital, where he was diagnosed as a Type 1 Diabetic. Almost-immediately, this patient still remembers that his relationship with many people (friends, family, & acquaintances) he’d known for years changed: He was no longer known to them by his first & last name, but as “the diabetic”, name unimportant. To this minute, he also continues to deny his Diabetes diagnosis (by a man who is, as aforementioned, no longer a Doctor), but takes his insulin anyway; Refusing seems to make people yell at him &, while he admits to hearing issues, that’s the only reason you want people screaming at you.
In late 2011, he stopped taking his insulin, since he (for about the millionth time) felt it was pointless to take medication for a disease he claims to be positive he does not have. (As he states it, the opposite is the popular opinion, but none of the people believing he is Diabetic have ever proven it, & he remains 100% sure they never will, as it has never been true.) He ended up in the hospital. During this particular stay, a doctor he has never met (then or any time in his life to this day) filled-out an “expert evaluation” that used his Diabetes denial (aka “the truth”) among other things to place him under the care of a so-called “legal guardian”. (This man is also an attorney, though his new “ward” has yet to see a legal license, & has strong beliefs he feels can be proven the man has repeatedly used his claimed legal status & legal guardianship to steal money from his ward’s account.)
Tomorrow at 2 PM (Eastern Standard Time, for those of you who get excited with that sort of stuff), a hearing will begin in the local courthouse near where this “ward” & “guardian” each live. The reason for this hearing (or so the “ward” has been told, though he doubts it, remaining admittedly “a conspiracy theorist of the highest order”) is to discuss the potential ending of this “guardianship”. This only came about due to A TON (cannot be accented enough) of work on the individual part of the “ward” (not the guardian, parents, or judges), including an appointment with a still-licensed-&-active doctor who the ward has seen twice this year alone, as well as several times over the past 3 years (at least; perhaps longer). This doctor filled-out another expert evaluation, suggesting the guardianship be ended.
The only things that need happen yet are the hearings & the decision itself. As already written here, the “ward” himself believes whatever person(s) will be making the decision have already done so, & decided against him, despite:
1] Having read the evaluation suggesting the guardianship’s termination
2] A key reason for the guardianship being the denial of the Diabetes, which many in this country know has never been (& can’t ever be) proven the ward actually has
3] A myriad of other reasons.
The other thing that should be stated, I (the “ward”) feels, is the fact that my Mom will be with me at the hearing. She has said she won’t say anything unless someone asks her to; However, feeling it would be better if neither of us reacted surprised at the other’s statements (&/or we appeared to be on the same side, though I know this is not the case), I have told her a few of the statements I will make, & she has stated she is undoubtedly against them. (Lastly, it also cannot be accented enough the fact/point this is MY life we are discussing, not any of theirs, so none of them have a clue what living it is like, just as they have no clue what either list looks like, meaning those of the diseases I am/am-not currently living with… It honestly scares me that they are spending so much time & money concentrating on the as-yet-incurable disease they pretend I have that we all truly know I don’t, they are missing one that can be just-as-fatal that I actually have.)
Well, I’m not positive about this… (I think I said it before),… Anyway, I’m not sure I’ve posted it on this particular “URL” (wasn’t that Jason Lee’s name on some show once?!), but I honestly do love what I’ve long referred to as “trick titles”. When I write things (blogs, anyway), I spend most of my time either stealing titles from TV shows, songs, & movies; Or using titles that are tricks on famous titles. (Something like “Old Man & The See,” though I don’t think I’ve ever actually used that one… Maybe if Dad gets us lost on the way to Pittsburgh later this year, I can type that one if-&-when I find my way back.)
Anyway, continuing on this honesty kick (I usually do, though I also create the occasional stories to tell friends & family, because I suspect they know the actual truth & what’s total crap), I must admit I meant to write this blog a few other previous times. (One word not required in that: I didn’t mean to write it at all later! Well, maybe I did… But if I mean to then, I probably will!) I actually gave it a heck of a shot about 3 days ago, but was unable to post it due to some problems I had with a few Websites I tried to include links to. [I'm still curious how many reader(s) my blog get(s), which WordPress doesn't want to tell me, but I try to increase that number by including links to a million various things in each one.]
Anyhow, just closing that up, the title on Sunday (& for many days before that) was going to be something like, “Early In The Morning, Late In The Game”. The idea there is I’ve been up a ton lately early in the day. (Seriously! About the time my Dad goes to work, & the ERs close-up & defer patients to the front doors of the hospital… Or so I think, anyway). I would then have explained that I’ve been doing that largely because I’m tired (clearly) & also because I have one day coming up soon that the time I can sleep is not at all up to me, so I figured it was smart to enjoy that freedom. [No joke; I've spoken & written many times about changing the American Bill of Rights; No problems with the rights it gives me & other Americans (natural-born citizens like me, or naturalized citizens like Craig Ferguson); But I think most citizens focus too much on a few ways to use a few (free speech to state opinions on Websites, etc.), & not enough on some rights, or some other ways to use them.]
Regardless, getting back to the “BIG” deal, let me write now that the title this time is a choice on my part, but only barely, & the time I’m posting this isn’t my choice at all… The major time I won’t be able to sleep at all is coming up tomorrow afternoon, & a major choice will be made then (or due to what happens then) that will certainly affect my life, if not the lives of much of my family, much of the county, state, & perhaps even the nation.
I promise you all: I’m dead-serious about this decision & its results. Don’t believe me?! Allow me to explain.
In July of 2000 (I promise I’ll get to tomorrow), I was in the cast of a musical at a local theatre. (No time to Google right now, but I’ve got programs & newspaper articles within this room that prove it.) It was a show few if any in the cast had been aware of for more than a few weeks. A man who was a professor at that college (it was a college’s “Summer Stock”), as well as a member of the cast, explained to most of us that the better-known shows (such as “Guys & Dolls”, which they had done the previous Summer) cost more to be able to put on. Then & there, some 17-year-old guy in the cast told himself he’d write a show, they could work-out a deal to get the rights cheaply, & the venue would also get the big announcement this “guy” believed any “world premiere” is.
Almost a year later, this same guy was well on his way to completing the show. Unfortunately, he had an unfortunate mishap at a doctor’s appointment, where that doctor (since out of practice) led him to the hospital, where he was diagnosed as a Type 1 Diabetic. Almost-immediately, this patient still remembers that his relationship with many people (friends, family, & acquaintances) he’d known for years changed: He was no longer known to them by his first & last name, but as “the diabetic”, name unimportant. To this minute, he also continues to deny his Diabetes diagnosis (by a man who is, as aforementioned, no longer a Doctor), but takes his insulin anyway; Refusing seems to make people yell at him &, while he admits to hearing issues, that’s the only reason you want people screaming at you.
In late 2011, he stopped taking his insulin, since he (for about the millionth time) felt it was pointless to take medication for a disease he claims to be positive he does not have. (As he states it, the opposite is the popular opinion, but none of the people believing he is Diabetic have ever proven it, & he remains 100% sure they never will, as it has never been true.) He ended up in the hospital. During this particular stay, a doctor he has never met (then or any time in his life to this day) filled-out an “expert evaluation” that used his Diabetes denial (aka “the truth”) among other things to place him under the care of a so-called “legal guardian”. (This man is also an attorney, though his new “ward” has yet to see a legal license, & has strong beliefs he feels can be proven the man has repeatedly used his claimed legal status & legal guardianship to steal money from his ward’s account.)
Tomorrow at 2 PM (Eastern Standard Time, for those of you who get excited with that sort of stuff), a hearing will begin in the local courthouse near where this “ward” & “guardian” each live. The reason for this hearing (or so the “ward” has been told, though he doubts it, remaining admittedly “a conspiracy theorist of the highest order”) is to discuss the potential ending of this “guardianship”. This only came about due to A TON (cannot be accented enough) of work on the individual part of the “ward” (not the guardian, parents, or judges), including an appointment with a still-licensed-&-active doctor who the ward has seen twice this year alone, as well as several times over the past 3 years (at least; perhaps longer). This doctor filled-out another expert evaluation, suggesting the guardianship be ended.
The only things that need happen yet are the hearings & the decision itself. As already written here, the “ward” himself believes whatever person(s) will be making the decision have already done so, & decided against him, despite:
1] Having read the evaluation suggesting the guardianship’s termination
2] A key reason for the guardianship being the denial of the Diabetes, which many in this country know has never been (& can’t ever be) proven the ward actually has
3] A myriad of other reasons.
The other thing that should be stated, I (the “ward”) feels, is the fact that my Mom will be with me at the hearing. She has said she won’t say anything unless someone asks her to; However, feeling it would be better if neither of us reacted surprised at the other’s statements (&/or we appeared to be on the same side, though I know this is not the case), I have told her a few of the statements I will make, & she has stated she is undoubtedly against them. (Lastly, it also cannot be accented enough the fact/point this is MY life we are discussing, not any of theirs, so none of them have a clue what living it is like, just as they have no clue what either list looks like, meaning those of the diseases I am/am-not currently living with… It honestly scares me that they are spending so much time & money concentrating on the as-yet-incurable disease they pretend I have that we all truly know I don’t, they are missing one that can be just-as-fatal that I actually have.)
2014.5.8
First off, a note that was not in any prior/previous (fill-in your own tongue-twister here) blog: If you don’t know what the “double-blogger” bit is a reference to, you need to see this. (Language warning; It does come from an R-rated movie, after all.) If not, that part of the title won’t mean anything to you… On the one hand, it won’t help you understand the rest of this blog (nor the next one) any better. On the other, it’s the movie that won Ben Affleck & Robin Williams each their only deserved Oscars, so it’s not like it’s far off any “Greatest Movie Of All-Time” lists (at least, I doubt it should be). Anyhow, onto the blog I originally wrote about a week ago…
I try to stay away from this, but this blog is gonna “kick” with a dedication. This specific one is dedicated to my best friend of a quarter-century, Matt Snyder. [Gotta laugh; For a split-second when I was thinking about doing that this past afternoon (that of the first draft), I wanted to make sure I got his name right, since I did attend his wedding about a year ago. It hit me that the guy's name doesn't change. Then again, I've admitted all over my blogs to being a TV-aholic, & there are umpteen celebrities with hyphenated surnames, not to mention people like Tim McGraw & Faith Hill, where neither of their names changed.]
I also got the title from Matt, indirectly; He had one of the old-“Batman”-movie soundtracks with a Smashing Pumpkins song titled something like that years ago, & I remember seeing it a few times when I used to go over his house when we were both younger. (When he lived about 2 minutes’ walk from here, & I lived in a different city.) Honestly, I “Googled” this afternoon to find out where the “End” & “Beginning” parts went in that title, as well as what soundtrack it was on; Turns out there were two songs (one titled each way) & I only found names of albums by the band! (That’s why I still prefer Yahoo!)
Anyhow, much the same way I challenged myself a few weeks back to not write anything on Twitter for the month of April (never did, & I continue that streak to this second), I also told myself I was not going to add to this blog until the long-focused-on “guardianship” is/was over…
Excuse me if I’m breaking my own rule here.
Any of you who might be “regular readers” might be thinking, “What does he mean?! The hearing deal to decide it was last week!” Yeah; Don’t I know it?! I counted-down to that the way I count-down the days & hours until Monkee concerts & birthdays. Mom, the legally-given “guardian”, the specific judge (name on the paperwork & picture on the Probate Court Website), & me (in a “dressier” shirt than I’m wearing now, khakis, & the tennis shoes given to me last year by the podiatrist I saw earlier in the day) all showed up.
I confirmed aloud with everyone that I had taken all pills & shots since I got home in January 2013. Mom was asked a question about how I’d done, & she threw it to me, so I confirmed for them somewhere in the recent 48 hours marked 460 days since I had been admitted to a hospital or anywhere else for a day or more. (At least I’d thought so then; Not so sure now.) The judge & guardian both told me that if things changed, I’d be right back where I was. The judge added he specifically was “proud of me”, but preferred seeing me anywhere in the County besides his Court. I agreed with all of this, & walked out.
About three hours ago was the first of the month. For maybe the first time this year, I got the majority of our mail with just my name on it. One was the cable bill, which I admit I’m behind on (but since what I watch includes Judges Judy, Alex, & Greg Mathis, I know there are others farther behind than I). Another was my monthly “insurance card” (which will probably stay in its perforated paper a while longer…). The final piece was a paper from the Court, signed & stamped by the judge, saying what I already knew: Case Closed.
Sounds awesome; Right?! So why am I not writing the info I previously promised about the party?! Well, if you are that “regular reader” of my blogs, you know I have a tendency to “get tech” on things. I know the law wouldn’t seem to be a place where things “get tech” (seem more “cut-&-dried”). However, the paper I got in the mail said all of that stuff (guardianship revoked & terminated, control of me given back to me) was official within THREE WEEKS of that thing being printed.
Just to double-check things, I got on my Mom’s computer this afternoon [I am writing this (first draft) at 2 AM, & offline due to unexplained issues with my own PC], & the case is listed (literally in the “Public Record”) as “CLOSED”. That means I have a decent amount of “moolah” (not related to the late wrestler, though I agree she was “Fabulous”) I can use to get updated on paying cable, buy what I usually eat for Breakfast, & buy the tickets to the Monkees concert I’ve been wanting to see next month since Micky “tweeted” about it I’m-not-sure-how-many-weeks ago.
The only problem is perhaps those first few (& definitely that last one) will require some sort of debit/credit card. Being that it’s 2:09 AM (if the clock on my PC next to the “No Internet access” sign is right), I know the bank I once frequented with pennies & quarters (& more-recently with checks sent from my now-disconnected guardian) is closed. No problem; I have a near-clear day tomorrow. (First-draft day; Super-busy day after the edit.) But when I asked her, my Mom (who was at the “disconnection” hearing, & used to work for the same bank-company) said she couldn’t be sure I could get a new card (they literally cut the old one up in front of all 8 of our eyes), even if/when I showed them the letter I got from the judge.
Suddenly, I’m not thinking about my best friend, Matt (who has a birthday in what was on my “draft day” about 3 weeks). Instead, I’m thinking about my nephew. I think he has a game this evening I’m gonna try to make (in both cases), but I’m also thinking anyone in his primary-school class would claim to know the trade-off I’m planning for the bank in about 12 hours is not only legal, but falls under that perhaps-overused term “common sense”.
‘Scuse the pun, but I gotta get some sleep before I find out what sort of sense the bank has.
First off, a note that was not in any prior/previous (fill-in your own tongue-twister here) blog: If you don’t know what the “double-blogger” bit is a reference to, you need to see this. (Language warning; It does come from an R-rated movie, after all.) If not, that part of the title won’t mean anything to you… On the one hand, it won’t help you understand the rest of this blog (nor the next one) any better. On the other, it’s the movie that won Ben Affleck & Robin Williams each their only deserved Oscars, so it’s not like it’s far off any “Greatest Movie Of All-Time” lists (at least, I doubt it should be). Anyhow, onto the blog I originally wrote about a week ago…
I try to stay away from this, but this blog is gonna “kick” with a dedication. This specific one is dedicated to my best friend of a quarter-century, Matt Snyder. [Gotta laugh; For a split-second when I was thinking about doing that this past afternoon (that of the first draft), I wanted to make sure I got his name right, since I did attend his wedding about a year ago. It hit me that the guy's name doesn't change. Then again, I've admitted all over my blogs to being a TV-aholic, & there are umpteen celebrities with hyphenated surnames, not to mention people like Tim McGraw & Faith Hill, where neither of their names changed.]
I also got the title from Matt, indirectly; He had one of the old-“Batman”-movie soundtracks with a Smashing Pumpkins song titled something like that years ago, & I remember seeing it a few times when I used to go over his house when we were both younger. (When he lived about 2 minutes’ walk from here, & I lived in a different city.) Honestly, I “Googled” this afternoon to find out where the “End” & “Beginning” parts went in that title, as well as what soundtrack it was on; Turns out there were two songs (one titled each way) & I only found names of albums by the band! (That’s why I still prefer Yahoo!)
Anyhow, much the same way I challenged myself a few weeks back to not write anything on Twitter for the month of April (never did, & I continue that streak to this second), I also told myself I was not going to add to this blog until the long-focused-on “guardianship” is/was over…
Excuse me if I’m breaking my own rule here.
Any of you who might be “regular readers” might be thinking, “What does he mean?! The hearing deal to decide it was last week!” Yeah; Don’t I know it?! I counted-down to that the way I count-down the days & hours until Monkee concerts & birthdays. Mom, the legally-given “guardian”, the specific judge (name on the paperwork & picture on the Probate Court Website), & me (in a “dressier” shirt than I’m wearing now, khakis, & the tennis shoes given to me last year by the podiatrist I saw earlier in the day) all showed up.
I confirmed aloud with everyone that I had taken all pills & shots since I got home in January 2013. Mom was asked a question about how I’d done, & she threw it to me, so I confirmed for them somewhere in the recent 48 hours marked 460 days since I had been admitted to a hospital or anywhere else for a day or more. (At least I’d thought so then; Not so sure now.) The judge & guardian both told me that if things changed, I’d be right back where I was. The judge added he specifically was “proud of me”, but preferred seeing me anywhere in the County besides his Court. I agreed with all of this, & walked out.
About three hours ago was the first of the month. For maybe the first time this year, I got the majority of our mail with just my name on it. One was the cable bill, which I admit I’m behind on (but since what I watch includes Judges Judy, Alex, & Greg Mathis, I know there are others farther behind than I). Another was my monthly “insurance card” (which will probably stay in its perforated paper a while longer…). The final piece was a paper from the Court, signed & stamped by the judge, saying what I already knew: Case Closed.
Sounds awesome; Right?! So why am I not writing the info I previously promised about the party?! Well, if you are that “regular reader” of my blogs, you know I have a tendency to “get tech” on things. I know the law wouldn’t seem to be a place where things “get tech” (seem more “cut-&-dried”). However, the paper I got in the mail said all of that stuff (guardianship revoked & terminated, control of me given back to me) was official within THREE WEEKS of that thing being printed.
Just to double-check things, I got on my Mom’s computer this afternoon [I am writing this (first draft) at 2 AM, & offline due to unexplained issues with my own PC], & the case is listed (literally in the “Public Record”) as “CLOSED”. That means I have a decent amount of “moolah” (not related to the late wrestler, though I agree she was “Fabulous”) I can use to get updated on paying cable, buy what I usually eat for Breakfast, & buy the tickets to the Monkees concert I’ve been wanting to see next month since Micky “tweeted” about it I’m-not-sure-how-many-weeks ago.
The only problem is perhaps those first few (& definitely that last one) will require some sort of debit/credit card. Being that it’s 2:09 AM (if the clock on my PC next to the “No Internet access” sign is right), I know the bank I once frequented with pennies & quarters (& more-recently with checks sent from my now-disconnected guardian) is closed. No problem; I have a near-clear day tomorrow. (First-draft day; Super-busy day after the edit.) But when I asked her, my Mom (who was at the “disconnection” hearing, & used to work for the same bank-company) said she couldn’t be sure I could get a new card (they literally cut the old one up in front of all 8 of our eyes), even if/when I showed them the letter I got from the judge.
Suddenly, I’m not thinking about my best friend, Matt (who has a birthday in what was on my “draft day” about 3 weeks). Instead, I’m thinking about my nephew. I think he has a game this evening I’m gonna try to make (in both cases), but I’m also thinking anyone in his primary-school class would claim to know the trade-off I’m planning for the bank in about 12 hours is not only legal, but falls under that perhaps-overused term “common sense”.
‘Scuse the pun, but I gotta get some sleep before I find out what sort of sense the bank has.
2014.5.8
Well,… Hold-up on that! Right off there, I’m correcting myself. I was gonna start this one out saying, “Well,…” something to “everyone”. However, in the past few weeks (largely due to some parts of this fiction book I’ve been reading), I’ve become increasingly-aware that FAR from “everyone” knows me, as well as aware of the fact I may actually prefer it if it stays that way for the rest of my life, whether that’s less than a week or another “round” of the amount of time I’ve already lived.
(Apology to everyone: I just finished watching “Nashville”, so I may come off sounding a bit “country” on that paragraph, or maybe this whole spiel. I know I spent a lot of time in Kentucky, but that was near over a decade ago, so that’s no real explanation.)
Anyhow, I seriously AND sincerely want to apologize to anyone who’s been searching for me the past few weeks, for some word on how my “hearing” went & all that. (Most who know would say the “hearing” itself went about as well as it could have. On the other hand, I’ve got my hearing aid & its battery in the pocket of these jeans right now, & I’m thankful for the wrestling shows I watch being easy to view-&-understand without any sound, so my overall hearing is still “not all that hot”, not to mention I myself would disagree with the overall view of how the legal “hearing” went.)
Let me just be honest here… To the best of my knowledge at this moment, the last day of March was a Monday. I hopped on my Twitter account that night, posted a few opinions related to the night’s wrestling show, & signed-off. Don’t ask me why, but the following day, I didn’t do anything I recall feeling the need to “tweet” about. Eventually, that turned into a self-challenge to go the whole month without saying anything on my account. I hopped-on rarely over the past month,… But only reading, not posting.
Eventually, my service days started counting-down on my cell phone. I felt that wouldn’t matter, since I still had close to an hour of “airtime” left on it. About 2-3 weeks ago, my Dad invited me to go to Lunch with him. [My family usually meets for Lunch after church services on Sundays, but I slept-in a bit much, & (if I recall right) Dad had trouble finding everyone.] Mom offered me her cell phone in case I needed to call for a ride back home (never mind we ate on the same street I live on). I turned mine on to prove I could call the apartment, & the call didn’t go through.
Long story short, I finally ended-up adding more “airtime” & service days quickly to this cell phone yesterday (& it repaid me by reminding me why I’d long wanted to get a new one). But I still have my “predictive” text off, as well as a few other things (though actually checking shows all these things to be marked as being “on”). So I still have yet to feel the need to put anything on my Twitter account.
Since I still haven’t said, I guess I should mention my “hearing” ended in the positive… For those who are not me. What I mean by that is I got control over my financial accounts, but actually being able to remove money via ATMs is an event that I’m still waiting to become a reality. (That Monkee thing I think I mentioned before may end-up not happening due to circumstances only technically beyond my control.)
That all being covered in the basic, it has led to things becoming not easier, but more-complicated. I got a letter from the “specialist” that handles my Diabetes, informing my family & I tomorrow will be my last appointment with her. She offers in the letter to help us find a new person, though I have made both parents individually aware I’d personally prefer to just not get a replacement, & “wind up” with nobody treating me for a disease I continue to claim being aware I’ve never had.
As I explained to my Mom earlier tonight, the problem with that (if there, in fact, is one) has been the case much longer than I’ve been seeing this particular “specialist”. I have said for a LONG time that all I do for this Diabetes it is widely-believed I have makes no sense to me. (It largely deals with causing oneself to bleed & stabbing oneself, each multiple times a day, which seems to me like something humans would be told to do by aliens or an evil foreign warlord in a bad Asimov novel or Vin Diesel “Riddick” flick.) It sometimes leads to me asking why I have to do it all, & the answer always comes to some form of the words/phrase, “So you can live.”
That then leads to me picturing some movie or TV show I can’t ID offhand. (I believe it was “Two Guys & A Girl,” right before they removed the title “Pizza Place”.) One character (I believe this was Richard Ruccolo, certainly the most-forgotten of the title cast members, & maybe the most of all, since even Nathan Fillion’s career has multiplied severely since then, & he was a bit player at best on this show) has some sort of speech that ends with something to the effect of, “That’s my life.” They then walk away from the person they are speaking to (I think it was then-future “Green Lantern” Ryan Reynolds), eventually walking out through a set door near the time they’re saying, “My life sucks!!”
This, in complete honesty, is the feeling I have about my life, especially when you remember what some may forget, which is that each day I continue to live (like some “big boss” in a video game, or whatever the players called the characters who were able to withstand the most punishment when I was growing-up) must include the aforementioned multiple times of bleeding & shooting (some of the latter of which admittedly leads to additional unrequired bleeding).
Don’t get me wrong; Some of my life is decent. For instance, thus far, I have made 2 of the 3 ball-games my nephew has played this year. (If I’m not too tired after tomorrow’s appointment, I will make the 3rd of the overall 4 this season.) He doesn’t say it, but I’m sure he appreciates me being there. My younger nephew has called me by name every time he sees me, & some times when Mom shows-up places without me. Yesterday was the first time in her roughly 5 months of life my niece has not smiled when she saw me. (My sister seems to express I’m the only one that gets the same positive reaction this percentage of the time.)
However, as I mentioned to Mom roughly 3 hours ago, I love that stuff now, but am likely to have forgotten it all by the end of the month. Also, if I tried to tell those things/stories to anyone outside of family (be it tomorrow’s “specialist” or someone at the Wal-Mart we like to visit afterward that is near her office), they might likewise appreciate it, & perhaps even smile, but it would not help pay for the CD that came out at the end of last month I was hoping might be the first thing I bought when the “hearing” was over & I got full control of my account (but have been unable to find at FYE, Target, or Best Buy locally)… Nor will they help me prepare for next week’s season finale of “Person Of Interest” (which often ends its season with some sort of “arcing story”; I missed the end of last week’s, & the “On-Demand” channel claims the one for that week to have been a repeat, which I know is not true. Ironically, I realized soon after it that I’d also missed the end of last night’s.)
Call it “stupid”, call it “small-time”, call me a cab (“OK; You’re a cab!”… Sorry; Only one this blog, promise)… But the fact is (I remind myself of old “Party Of Five” episodes the rare times I write things like this) it’s these rare, no-money-value times (nephews, etc.) life should really be about, & while I’m hitting all the family spots (& enough spots on my stomach with the insulin needles I’m considering spelling my own name), I’m missing to-me-just-as-priceless moments (Old 97s, Tuesday-night TV shows) that make my life just-as-much worth living.
NOTE: That shows you just how much his blog was “trial & error”; There was originally going to be a trio covered a lot in it, & I ended without ever mentioning it/them.
Well,… Hold-up on that! Right off there, I’m correcting myself. I was gonna start this one out saying, “Well,…” something to “everyone”. However, in the past few weeks (largely due to some parts of this fiction book I’ve been reading), I’ve become increasingly-aware that FAR from “everyone” knows me, as well as aware of the fact I may actually prefer it if it stays that way for the rest of my life, whether that’s less than a week or another “round” of the amount of time I’ve already lived.
(Apology to everyone: I just finished watching “Nashville”, so I may come off sounding a bit “country” on that paragraph, or maybe this whole spiel. I know I spent a lot of time in Kentucky, but that was near over a decade ago, so that’s no real explanation.)
Anyhow, I seriously AND sincerely want to apologize to anyone who’s been searching for me the past few weeks, for some word on how my “hearing” went & all that. (Most who know would say the “hearing” itself went about as well as it could have. On the other hand, I’ve got my hearing aid & its battery in the pocket of these jeans right now, & I’m thankful for the wrestling shows I watch being easy to view-&-understand without any sound, so my overall hearing is still “not all that hot”, not to mention I myself would disagree with the overall view of how the legal “hearing” went.)
Let me just be honest here… To the best of my knowledge at this moment, the last day of March was a Monday. I hopped on my Twitter account that night, posted a few opinions related to the night’s wrestling show, & signed-off. Don’t ask me why, but the following day, I didn’t do anything I recall feeling the need to “tweet” about. Eventually, that turned into a self-challenge to go the whole month without saying anything on my account. I hopped-on rarely over the past month,… But only reading, not posting.
Eventually, my service days started counting-down on my cell phone. I felt that wouldn’t matter, since I still had close to an hour of “airtime” left on it. About 2-3 weeks ago, my Dad invited me to go to Lunch with him. [My family usually meets for Lunch after church services on Sundays, but I slept-in a bit much, & (if I recall right) Dad had trouble finding everyone.] Mom offered me her cell phone in case I needed to call for a ride back home (never mind we ate on the same street I live on). I turned mine on to prove I could call the apartment, & the call didn’t go through.
Long story short, I finally ended-up adding more “airtime” & service days quickly to this cell phone yesterday (& it repaid me by reminding me why I’d long wanted to get a new one). But I still have my “predictive” text off, as well as a few other things (though actually checking shows all these things to be marked as being “on”). So I still have yet to feel the need to put anything on my Twitter account.
Since I still haven’t said, I guess I should mention my “hearing” ended in the positive… For those who are not me. What I mean by that is I got control over my financial accounts, but actually being able to remove money via ATMs is an event that I’m still waiting to become a reality. (That Monkee thing I think I mentioned before may end-up not happening due to circumstances only technically beyond my control.)
That all being covered in the basic, it has led to things becoming not easier, but more-complicated. I got a letter from the “specialist” that handles my Diabetes, informing my family & I tomorrow will be my last appointment with her. She offers in the letter to help us find a new person, though I have made both parents individually aware I’d personally prefer to just not get a replacement, & “wind up” with nobody treating me for a disease I continue to claim being aware I’ve never had.
As I explained to my Mom earlier tonight, the problem with that (if there, in fact, is one) has been the case much longer than I’ve been seeing this particular “specialist”. I have said for a LONG time that all I do for this Diabetes it is widely-believed I have makes no sense to me. (It largely deals with causing oneself to bleed & stabbing oneself, each multiple times a day, which seems to me like something humans would be told to do by aliens or an evil foreign warlord in a bad Asimov novel or Vin Diesel “Riddick” flick.) It sometimes leads to me asking why I have to do it all, & the answer always comes to some form of the words/phrase, “So you can live.”
That then leads to me picturing some movie or TV show I can’t ID offhand. (I believe it was “Two Guys & A Girl,” right before they removed the title “Pizza Place”.) One character (I believe this was Richard Ruccolo, certainly the most-forgotten of the title cast members, & maybe the most of all, since even Nathan Fillion’s career has multiplied severely since then, & he was a bit player at best on this show) has some sort of speech that ends with something to the effect of, “That’s my life.” They then walk away from the person they are speaking to (I think it was then-future “Green Lantern” Ryan Reynolds), eventually walking out through a set door near the time they’re saying, “My life sucks!!”
This, in complete honesty, is the feeling I have about my life, especially when you remember what some may forget, which is that each day I continue to live (like some “big boss” in a video game, or whatever the players called the characters who were able to withstand the most punishment when I was growing-up) must include the aforementioned multiple times of bleeding & shooting (some of the latter of which admittedly leads to additional unrequired bleeding).
Don’t get me wrong; Some of my life is decent. For instance, thus far, I have made 2 of the 3 ball-games my nephew has played this year. (If I’m not too tired after tomorrow’s appointment, I will make the 3rd of the overall 4 this season.) He doesn’t say it, but I’m sure he appreciates me being there. My younger nephew has called me by name every time he sees me, & some times when Mom shows-up places without me. Yesterday was the first time in her roughly 5 months of life my niece has not smiled when she saw me. (My sister seems to express I’m the only one that gets the same positive reaction this percentage of the time.)
However, as I mentioned to Mom roughly 3 hours ago, I love that stuff now, but am likely to have forgotten it all by the end of the month. Also, if I tried to tell those things/stories to anyone outside of family (be it tomorrow’s “specialist” or someone at the Wal-Mart we like to visit afterward that is near her office), they might likewise appreciate it, & perhaps even smile, but it would not help pay for the CD that came out at the end of last month I was hoping might be the first thing I bought when the “hearing” was over & I got full control of my account (but have been unable to find at FYE, Target, or Best Buy locally)… Nor will they help me prepare for next week’s season finale of “Person Of Interest” (which often ends its season with some sort of “arcing story”; I missed the end of last week’s, & the “On-Demand” channel claims the one for that week to have been a repeat, which I know is not true. Ironically, I realized soon after it that I’d also missed the end of last night’s.)
Call it “stupid”, call it “small-time”, call me a cab (“OK; You’re a cab!”… Sorry; Only one this blog, promise)… But the fact is (I remind myself of old “Party Of Five” episodes the rare times I write things like this) it’s these rare, no-money-value times (nephews, etc.) life should really be about, & while I’m hitting all the family spots (& enough spots on my stomach with the insulin needles I’m considering spelling my own name), I’m missing to-me-just-as-priceless moments (Old 97s, Tuesday-night TV shows) that make my life just-as-much worth living.
NOTE: That shows you just how much his blog was “trial & error”; There was originally going to be a trio covered a lot in it, & I ended without ever mentioning it/them.
2014.5.16
Well, first, I’ll do what feels like absolving myself a bit by admitting I’m tech-stealing the title again. I’m not exactly sure that’s what the words are, but lately, I’ve thought so… Regardless, they’re the sound-alikes that work the best for my usage. [I know I've previously confessed to loving the use of "trick titles", & considering it for if-&-when I ever release any non-soundtrack album of songs,... But man, if I didn't regret all that about 5 minutes ago when I was searching the "Free Movies On-Demand" Channel! It's like your parents' "One day, you'll have kids, &..." speech for the "by-choice bachelors"!! (That's what I've taken to calling myself lately, & any that may exist like me.)]
Anyhow, about 12 hours ago, I was hand-writing a note to my best friend, letting him know all the things that have happened in the roughly-5-months between his birthday & mine. I’ve had a lot of physical pains, but I didn’t mention them, as my belief is the reason I’ve had & survived such a large quantity is they each lasted for shorter amounts of time than it took me to write the note.
Therefore, at the top of my list was removing the “legal guardian” I had over the previous year. If anyone had been able to confirm for me, say, 10 months ago that I’d be totally free of it now (not entirely-finished with it all, but I took money from the ATM with my debit card this afternoon, & I’ve got a CD by one of my favorite bands that I haven’t found available in town on its way here from Amazon, so good enough for me), I would’ve probably laughed, but eventually celebrated.
That all said (“wrote”, if you wanna “get tech”), as I mentioned in the note to my friend, that’s not really such a hot thing. As that Janis Joplin song says (my cousin would probably laugh to know I still remember hearing her “go nuts on it”), “Freedom’s just another word for…” something else, & it’s worthless, but free. Sorry, but who-knows-how-many years later, I gotta add somethin’ to that. (Perhaps why my sister went through some time of preferring Scott Joplin, whereas I spent part of Thursday evening with Josh Joplin in my head.) If something were worthless-but-free, I’d be cool with that. (As I told Ma & my Aunt Wednesday night, I’ve long lived by the Dave-Matthews-Band-song-title of “Pay For What You Get”.) But as I’ve lived my own life the past few weeks since that legal separation (which has included online interaction with people who seem to hold a mutual dislike for me, & others that have actually said they agreed with my opinions &/or liked my suggestions on things), I’ve learned that I’ve gone from not working a minute in my life (at your average paying job) to doing a ton of work, knowing all the while I’m not going to make any more money in total than I did 36 months ago, another time that I had no job, but one during which I also had no nieces. (As I told my brother-in-law this past Mother’s Day, “Nobody who’s seen me w/them will doubt I LOVE your kids.”)
On my way out of this apartment a few afternoons ago, I told my Mom (also my driver that time, though she by-choice stayed in the car at our destination) that if I had a choice between being a Tony-winning, famous, published millionaire writer & being dead, that second, I would’ve chosen the latter. That day, I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment to discuss a problem he’d already improved once, but which had since-then returned. At that appointment, he gave me prescriptions & instructions I have followed (the latter; the former would leave me stuck on the table), & I think the problem will leave again… So why did I find myself 24 hours later giving myself the same hypothetical choices, & still choosing the latter?!
Well, first, I’ll do what feels like absolving myself a bit by admitting I’m tech-stealing the title again. I’m not exactly sure that’s what the words are, but lately, I’ve thought so… Regardless, they’re the sound-alikes that work the best for my usage. [I know I've previously confessed to loving the use of "trick titles", & considering it for if-&-when I ever release any non-soundtrack album of songs,... But man, if I didn't regret all that about 5 minutes ago when I was searching the "Free Movies On-Demand" Channel! It's like your parents' "One day, you'll have kids, &..." speech for the "by-choice bachelors"!! (That's what I've taken to calling myself lately, & any that may exist like me.)]
Anyhow, about 12 hours ago, I was hand-writing a note to my best friend, letting him know all the things that have happened in the roughly-5-months between his birthday & mine. I’ve had a lot of physical pains, but I didn’t mention them, as my belief is the reason I’ve had & survived such a large quantity is they each lasted for shorter amounts of time than it took me to write the note.
Therefore, at the top of my list was removing the “legal guardian” I had over the previous year. If anyone had been able to confirm for me, say, 10 months ago that I’d be totally free of it now (not entirely-finished with it all, but I took money from the ATM with my debit card this afternoon, & I’ve got a CD by one of my favorite bands that I haven’t found available in town on its way here from Amazon, so good enough for me), I would’ve probably laughed, but eventually celebrated.
That all said (“wrote”, if you wanna “get tech”), as I mentioned in the note to my friend, that’s not really such a hot thing. As that Janis Joplin song says (my cousin would probably laugh to know I still remember hearing her “go nuts on it”), “Freedom’s just another word for…” something else, & it’s worthless, but free. Sorry, but who-knows-how-many years later, I gotta add somethin’ to that. (Perhaps why my sister went through some time of preferring Scott Joplin, whereas I spent part of Thursday evening with Josh Joplin in my head.) If something were worthless-but-free, I’d be cool with that. (As I told Ma & my Aunt Wednesday night, I’ve long lived by the Dave-Matthews-Band-song-title of “Pay For What You Get”.) But as I’ve lived my own life the past few weeks since that legal separation (which has included online interaction with people who seem to hold a mutual dislike for me, & others that have actually said they agreed with my opinions &/or liked my suggestions on things), I’ve learned that I’ve gone from not working a minute in my life (at your average paying job) to doing a ton of work, knowing all the while I’m not going to make any more money in total than I did 36 months ago, another time that I had no job, but one during which I also had no nieces. (As I told my brother-in-law this past Mother’s Day, “Nobody who’s seen me w/them will doubt I LOVE your kids.”)
On my way out of this apartment a few afternoons ago, I told my Mom (also my driver that time, though she by-choice stayed in the car at our destination) that if I had a choice between being a Tony-winning, famous, published millionaire writer & being dead, that second, I would’ve chosen the latter. That day, I was on my way to a doctor’s appointment to discuss a problem he’d already improved once, but which had since-then returned. At that appointment, he gave me prescriptions & instructions I have followed (the latter; the former would leave me stuck on the table), & I think the problem will leave again… So why did I find myself 24 hours later giving myself the same hypothetical choices, & still choosing the latter?!
2014.5.23
For those of you who may not know (which I assume is an overwhelming percentage, though I also realize the vast majority don’t care), it is now “a quarter after 2″ in the morning on May 23, 2014. Three hours ago, it was still the 22nd of May. That’s simple Math for many of you, & it probably matters little, if at all.
However, it means a lot to me, as I got an E-mail around 10:30 that night (when I read it; it was sent much earlier that morning) from a guy my “simple Math” estimates I have now known (& considered my “best friend”) for a quarter-century.
Something many of you are also probably not aware about, & may be more-interested in, is the fact I am typing this on my personal computer, bought legally for me (by which I mean both it wasn’t stolen & the purchase had to literally get OKed by local courts before it was made; read earlier blogs if you forgot/are unsure why). However, my “game plan” right now is to save this when it’s finished on what I’ve been referring to as an “external hard drive”, & post it online later today/tomorrow/oh, whatever… Friday via Mom’s computer, which I have been borrowing yet again periodically.
The reason for that is my computer is (the “taskbar” tells me) unable to get online right now (or the last few weeks). I plan to send it in to the “Geek Squad” again soon to try & fix this, but that will be the 4th time I’ve given it to them, & I have barely owned this machine that many months.
One reason I am hesitant to give it to them is I believe I was overcharged in a few different ways the other times. Another is I am working on saving a lot of documents, programs, & media (videos, pictures, & music) via that aforementioned “external hard drive”, & am in the process of organizing it so it will take-up less space on the drive when I do so.
One major part of this organization is compiling bands that are listed under different names, but (I believe) are the same exact people. [No joke: I recently combined the "Black Eyed Peas" sections spelled both with &/or without a hyphen in the first word(s), & only minutes ago combined "AC-DC" spelled with a hyphen &/or the slash I just-now used.]
One of the reasons I admit this is taking so long is I spend a lot of time searching for different songs on my Media Player, & listening to them. (That takes maybe 4 minutes, after which I do what I’m choosing to now call “Six Degrees of the Bacon Brothers”, searching for similar titles, & listening to those songs, in a neverending list.)
I don’t know why, but a few nights ago, I was feeling more religious than I have in a while, & simply searched the word, “Confession”. (Maybe I was feeling the need for a religious observance between Mother’s & Memorial Days.) As you might expect, the majority of my results were songs by Dashboard Confessional. Again for a reason I’m unsure of, I ended-up listening to a song called, “Ender Will Save Us All”.
I admit that this very second, I’m not positive who “Ender” is, or if it’s even a person, thing, or maybe some sort of machine. (“Final Jeopardy!” tonight got me thinking about Kubrick & “Artificial Intelligence”.) I seem to recall reading someplace it was the middle name of lead-singer/songwriter Chris Carrabba, but can’t be sure of that at the moment.
“SPOILER ALERT!”: The song, while great, never tells you who or what (if in fact anything at all) “Ender” is, nor how it/they “Will Save Us All”.
Regardless, I have spent the past few days (including hours all over my alarm clock, or the one on my digital-cable box, or the one on this PC) listening to that song, watching my favorite episode of the long-cancelled “Sports Night” (which I did at 1:30 this morning, with my “Complete Series” DVD-set well within reach, part of me wondering why I don’t see any pronunciation mark at the end of Peter Krause’s name in the credits, as I believe there should be the way people pronounce it on TV these days), & having a meal with Mom at the local (& self-proclaimed “Original”) Hot Dog Shoppe, recalling the days I spent debating becoming a part of the Facebook Group I read about dedicated to that place. (I forget my final decision; Let me know if you find me in it!)
Why am I doing all this?! Because I recently-learned getting rid of the “legal guardian” who was involved in the original purchase of this machine is a much-longer & more-complicated task than I originally imagined. I’m quite-well-aware I could stop doing this work if I were to, say, stop taking my Lantus or the roughly-2 pills I take each night (about an-hour-and-a-half ago), thereby reconnecting me with the “LG”. However, if I wanted that, I never would have begun the work to disconnect us 4 months ago, which my immediate family is well-aware was all begun due to my choice & (thus far, largely) my individual action.
–Blog Complete 5/23/14 @ 2:49 AM
For those of you who may not know (which I assume is an overwhelming percentage, though I also realize the vast majority don’t care), it is now “a quarter after 2″ in the morning on May 23, 2014. Three hours ago, it was still the 22nd of May. That’s simple Math for many of you, & it probably matters little, if at all.
However, it means a lot to me, as I got an E-mail around 10:30 that night (when I read it; it was sent much earlier that morning) from a guy my “simple Math” estimates I have now known (& considered my “best friend”) for a quarter-century.
Something many of you are also probably not aware about, & may be more-interested in, is the fact I am typing this on my personal computer, bought legally for me (by which I mean both it wasn’t stolen & the purchase had to literally get OKed by local courts before it was made; read earlier blogs if you forgot/are unsure why). However, my “game plan” right now is to save this when it’s finished on what I’ve been referring to as an “external hard drive”, & post it online later today/tomorrow/oh, whatever… Friday via Mom’s computer, which I have been borrowing yet again periodically.
The reason for that is my computer is (the “taskbar” tells me) unable to get online right now (or the last few weeks). I plan to send it in to the “Geek Squad” again soon to try & fix this, but that will be the 4th time I’ve given it to them, & I have barely owned this machine that many months.
One reason I am hesitant to give it to them is I believe I was overcharged in a few different ways the other times. Another is I am working on saving a lot of documents, programs, & media (videos, pictures, & music) via that aforementioned “external hard drive”, & am in the process of organizing it so it will take-up less space on the drive when I do so.
One major part of this organization is compiling bands that are listed under different names, but (I believe) are the same exact people. [No joke: I recently combined the "Black Eyed Peas" sections spelled both with &/or without a hyphen in the first word(s), & only minutes ago combined "AC-DC" spelled with a hyphen &/or the slash I just-now used.]
One of the reasons I admit this is taking so long is I spend a lot of time searching for different songs on my Media Player, & listening to them. (That takes maybe 4 minutes, after which I do what I’m choosing to now call “Six Degrees of the Bacon Brothers”, searching for similar titles, & listening to those songs, in a neverending list.)
I don’t know why, but a few nights ago, I was feeling more religious than I have in a while, & simply searched the word, “Confession”. (Maybe I was feeling the need for a religious observance between Mother’s & Memorial Days.) As you might expect, the majority of my results were songs by Dashboard Confessional. Again for a reason I’m unsure of, I ended-up listening to a song called, “Ender Will Save Us All”.
I admit that this very second, I’m not positive who “Ender” is, or if it’s even a person, thing, or maybe some sort of machine. (“Final Jeopardy!” tonight got me thinking about Kubrick & “Artificial Intelligence”.) I seem to recall reading someplace it was the middle name of lead-singer/songwriter Chris Carrabba, but can’t be sure of that at the moment.
“SPOILER ALERT!”: The song, while great, never tells you who or what (if in fact anything at all) “Ender” is, nor how it/they “Will Save Us All”.
Regardless, I have spent the past few days (including hours all over my alarm clock, or the one on my digital-cable box, or the one on this PC) listening to that song, watching my favorite episode of the long-cancelled “Sports Night” (which I did at 1:30 this morning, with my “Complete Series” DVD-set well within reach, part of me wondering why I don’t see any pronunciation mark at the end of Peter Krause’s name in the credits, as I believe there should be the way people pronounce it on TV these days), & having a meal with Mom at the local (& self-proclaimed “Original”) Hot Dog Shoppe, recalling the days I spent debating becoming a part of the Facebook Group I read about dedicated to that place. (I forget my final decision; Let me know if you find me in it!)
Why am I doing all this?! Because I recently-learned getting rid of the “legal guardian” who was involved in the original purchase of this machine is a much-longer & more-complicated task than I originally imagined. I’m quite-well-aware I could stop doing this work if I were to, say, stop taking my Lantus or the roughly-2 pills I take each night (about an-hour-and-a-half ago), thereby reconnecting me with the “LG”. However, if I wanted that, I never would have begun the work to disconnect us 4 months ago, which my immediate family is well-aware was all begun due to my choice & (thus far, largely) my individual action.
–Blog Complete 5/23/14 @ 2:49 AM
2014.5.29
This time, I am not going to name the blog after a title or quote from something else. I am also not going to start it with a statement of the time (not sure) or day (know, but don’t care). That all seems a bit ironic to me (which I have read lately some feel is a judgment-call), as I plan for this particular blog to be largely based on myself, what I’m doing now (well, in recent months), & its relationship to what I’ve done before.
Before any of you ask, the title I have given today’s blog is my own abbreviation/acronym. It stands (in my mind, anyway) for “Venn-Ish Diagram Of Life”.
Here’s why…
I’m not positive about this [I'm still searching for an MRI-like test that would tell me what's in my brain, how it gets there, why it stays there, how-&-why I/it access(es) certain things at certain times, etc.], but I believe “Venn diagrams” are visual aids that involve 2 intersecting circles. (Admittedly, I am mainly recalling this from “Late Night With Seth Meyers” & “Big Bang Theory“… But I am the guy who gets many things on “Jeopardy” due to “Forbidden Broadway”, “Leverage”, WWE wrestling, & The Monkees.)
Anyhow, I now believe my life is less the circle Harry Chapin sang about (remember, I’m the guy that “follows” Monkee Micky Dolenz & pro wrestler/”Hardcore Legend” Mick Foley on Twitter), & more two circles (at least) that can be followed in several different directions at once…
It starts with the “Type 1 Diabetes” all-who-know-me-but-are-not-me have believed I have for over a decade. (Wishing I got a Pavlovian bit every time I said or typed that word.) Almost since diagnosis, I have tried to have something to look forward to that drives me to take my blood-sugar checks & my insulin shots. (A while back, this may’ve been the birth of my niece; However, some days, a decent rerun of “Leverage” will do it.) Just recently, I have tried to turn this thing on all occasions into what I have long referred-to only by its semi-secretive name, “The Platinum Project”.
This “Project” is not anything the government need be worried about (like those involving Edward Snowden, who I watched last night on NBC News & read about previously in Rolling Stone), nor is it my autobiography (currently sitting un-updated due to aforementioned computer issues). Even so, it is close to the latter, in that the main character (it is a largely-fictional thing) is a writer (as I’ve long aimed to be), & the “Project” will cover a few of his efforts to write.
All I will say at this time is that my current outline starts with him reading another fictional account, & feeling he wasted his time in reading it. After (coincidentally) feeling this way myself when I finished reading a (fictional) book a few months back, I considered the new “project” making reference to that book specifically, thinking it would be easy writing for me, since I personally knew how the fictional person would feel after this exact experience. Fearing the perhaps-minute potential of a lawsuit, I later considered the idea of using one of my own prior-written works, thinking it may cause people to seek it out, & I will have worked my way into a publishing deal (albeit perhaps a small one).
While writing the script with this idea in mind recently, it hit me that no real people are likely to seek anything out if another person (real or fictional) expresses having had a negative experience with it. (Even if some did, as I myself have admittedly done in the past, that would not be the way to go about earning any sort of “publishing deal” or other positive result, especially not in this “day & age”, where it seems there are an annually-increasing way to access written/recorded media without any financial loss/expenditure.)
Anyhow, I am now sitting here (right this second; Weather’s improving even in Ohio, so am moving about somewhat), trying to work my way back to where I was when I was working on the “project” without use of myself that I now realize would perhaps be self-injurious, while simultaneously realizing it will make writing the “project” once again the comparatively-difficult task it originally was.
This time, I am not going to name the blog after a title or quote from something else. I am also not going to start it with a statement of the time (not sure) or day (know, but don’t care). That all seems a bit ironic to me (which I have read lately some feel is a judgment-call), as I plan for this particular blog to be largely based on myself, what I’m doing now (well, in recent months), & its relationship to what I’ve done before.
Before any of you ask, the title I have given today’s blog is my own abbreviation/acronym. It stands (in my mind, anyway) for “Venn-Ish Diagram Of Life”.
Here’s why…
I’m not positive about this [I'm still searching for an MRI-like test that would tell me what's in my brain, how it gets there, why it stays there, how-&-why I/it access(es) certain things at certain times, etc.], but I believe “Venn diagrams” are visual aids that involve 2 intersecting circles. (Admittedly, I am mainly recalling this from “Late Night With Seth Meyers” & “Big Bang Theory“… But I am the guy who gets many things on “Jeopardy” due to “Forbidden Broadway”, “Leverage”, WWE wrestling, & The Monkees.)
Anyhow, I now believe my life is less the circle Harry Chapin sang about (remember, I’m the guy that “follows” Monkee Micky Dolenz & pro wrestler/”Hardcore Legend” Mick Foley on Twitter), & more two circles (at least) that can be followed in several different directions at once…
It starts with the “Type 1 Diabetes” all-who-know-me-but-are-not-me have believed I have for over a decade. (Wishing I got a Pavlovian bit every time I said or typed that word.) Almost since diagnosis, I have tried to have something to look forward to that drives me to take my blood-sugar checks & my insulin shots. (A while back, this may’ve been the birth of my niece; However, some days, a decent rerun of “Leverage” will do it.) Just recently, I have tried to turn this thing on all occasions into what I have long referred-to only by its semi-secretive name, “The Platinum Project”.
This “Project” is not anything the government need be worried about (like those involving Edward Snowden, who I watched last night on NBC News & read about previously in Rolling Stone), nor is it my autobiography (currently sitting un-updated due to aforementioned computer issues). Even so, it is close to the latter, in that the main character (it is a largely-fictional thing) is a writer (as I’ve long aimed to be), & the “Project” will cover a few of his efforts to write.
All I will say at this time is that my current outline starts with him reading another fictional account, & feeling he wasted his time in reading it. After (coincidentally) feeling this way myself when I finished reading a (fictional) book a few months back, I considered the new “project” making reference to that book specifically, thinking it would be easy writing for me, since I personally knew how the fictional person would feel after this exact experience. Fearing the perhaps-minute potential of a lawsuit, I later considered the idea of using one of my own prior-written works, thinking it may cause people to seek it out, & I will have worked my way into a publishing deal (albeit perhaps a small one).
While writing the script with this idea in mind recently, it hit me that no real people are likely to seek anything out if another person (real or fictional) expresses having had a negative experience with it. (Even if some did, as I myself have admittedly done in the past, that would not be the way to go about earning any sort of “publishing deal” or other positive result, especially not in this “day & age”, where it seems there are an annually-increasing way to access written/recorded media without any financial loss/expenditure.)
Anyhow, I am now sitting here (right this second; Weather’s improving even in Ohio, so am moving about somewhat), trying to work my way back to where I was when I was working on the “project” without use of myself that I now realize would perhaps be self-injurious, while simultaneously realizing it will make writing the “project” once again the comparatively-difficult task it originally was.
2014.6.11
I don’t honestly know why (though I fully realize that means nobody does), but when I “steal” titles, I feel I need to start the blog explaining where I got it from. This time, I didn’t steal it at all, but I did “derive” it from a few sources. (Is that even a word in that tense?!) I therefore, likewise, & “all that good jazz” (altering the term I once heard current “Fault In Our Stars” cast-member @birbigs use) feel the need to explain it.
I only think I’ve ever heard the word “catfish” 3 times, which totals about once a decade. The last was whenever the MTV show began; The second/middle was the movie that “started it all” (though the people behind it may claim the events “documented” in the movie truly did that). The first was several years ago, as that was the first fish I ever caught when intentionally going fishing. [My Uncle Bill, who ironically had a birthday only last week, & also himself built a boat since that intentional-fishing trip he later launched on local water (video of which is still on this computer), has never that I recall explained to me why we didn't keep it the way I understand most fishermen do the majority of their catches... But being I was rather young & it was the first one I ever caught, I still have some sort of "sense memory" of being very upset by that.]
Lastly, the Mahoning River is a real body of water that I have ridden past several times in the cars of either of my parents… That said, the last time I went fishing was MANY years ago, & the last time I went anywhere near that river for any honestly-worth-documenting amount of time was during my visits to the nearby courts for all the “legal guardian” stuff, which I have documented on this blog FAR more than enough. (I am still not entirely done separating myself from that experience & what I am now choosing to refer to as its “offshoots”. While some might say I have one more step to complete, & will be finished when this week is, a long-existent part of my brain that prefers to expect the worst/least argues that I might have preferred serving a sentence the likes of which I’ve seen mentioned on recent airings of various “Law & Order” spinoffs, as it believes people serving such sentences can reform & live somewhat-normal-&-complete lives, whereas I will never be fully separated from that “guardian” or the “case”, regardless of the Probate Court site listing it in all-CAPS as “CLOSED”.)
Anyway, I am not in any rush (to put it mildly) to go fishing again. (I will probably eat another “BK Big Fish” within the next 2 weeks, but I don’t care to be or even know the person that catches it.) I also am not exactly in any rush to go near the Mahoning River, though I realize I have high odds whether I wish it or not, as it did flood during my lifetime, & I only today read a Rolling Stone article that discussed climate change leading to Miami & other coastal cities being placed underwater…
… That said, I am in the mood to go “hunting” for some sort of “catfish”, by saying which I mean searching online for actual genetic connections to my actual self.
Understand when I write this that I have said/written beyond the point of being redundant on my blogs that I love both my nephews & my niece. (This computer is filled with pics & video of my eldest nephew, who I have probably called “buddy” more than his actual name. His younger brother literally runs to me, says my name, & grabs my leg when I arrive at his big brother’s ‘ball games over the past week. My niece, meanwhile, is not even a-half-year old, & so barely says any words… However, I expect my name to come soon, as she only recently stopped her mouth from smiling at me the second she sees me literally anywhere.)
I also love my sister (to the point we referred to each other on the phone tonight at the end of the conversation solely by each other’s first initials, & this conversation happened only after she sent me 3 text-messages).
That all written, I have said rarely-but-repeatedly that if my doctor were to tell me at tomorrow’s appointment that I were adopted, I would be surprised by it coming from this particular doctor (a specialist in an area other than my family/genetics), but not at all by the news. At least 3 of my teachers Freshman Year of high school knew the first name of the man I’ve grown-up thinking (he) was my father before they’d even seen my face. I went to my first party at another student’s house when I was in high school due to my sister having invited someone via me, since they were my best friend for many years (many years prior, & to this very second); I wasn’t physically spending any “school hours” in the school building.
On the opposite side of things, much of my family & friends still hold (& speak of) the belief I have Diabetes. (This is another thing I have covered on my blogs “FAR more than enough”.) This is happening simultaneously with the same people (those who act towards it at all, anyway) seemingly refusing to believe or even have me tested for other diseases I verbally claim to believe I might have, despite my repeated claims/announcements of showing their symptoms. (One of my junior-high Health teachers was an old classmate of my mother’s, so I wonder how she’d feel knowing Mom seems to steadfastly refuse testing for these things, despite the fact her old classmate who is now a teacher telling me at least once the better odds of survival that come from early detection.)
Maybe it’s the way my also-oft-covered “living Improv” affects my memory, but I can’t recall anything else (if it ever actually existed) I wanted to cover on this topic/idea. I realize, by the way, I haven’t mentioned my Dad in a while. This was intentional… My Dad & I are actually taking a trip near the end of the week that would be right at the top of my “things to look forward to”/”things to live for” list that I believe I covered in a recent blog… I will be paying him back for my ticket to this event, which is ironic only because it was I who originally mentioned this event to him a few weeks ago, & in the time since, he said & did things that repeatedly upset me (not total; each individual one) to the point I was making myself OK with missing this event, deciding that attending was not worth the hour-or-so trip to-&-from with him.
Footnote Added At-Least-An-Hour Later: It hit me several minutes after typing the previous that I never mentioned the full title of this blog/entry was a “takeoff” of sorts on the film title, “Salmon Fishing In The Yemen”. Admittedly, I’ve never seen a single second of the film, though I remain aware it stars (among others) one of my long-time favorite film actors, Ewan MacGregor. [I have "A Life Less Ordinary" on DVD, & the soundtrack on CD, as well as recalling his vocal performance of a song I honestly don't recall the title of in with Cameron Diaz in that film better than the original... But have never seen a single scene of "Moulin Rouge" or "Trainspotting", & recall having walked home in evening darkness years ago when my next-door neighbors invited me to watch "Star Wars: Episode One" with them. (That said, I picture him in the film any time I hear his character's name mentioned in the "Weird Al" song related to the film.)]
I would not have added this “Footnote” at all if I had not turned-on a cable repeat of “NCIS: Los Angeles”, & heard “Hetty” mention helping break a character out of prison & sending him “all the way… to his family in Yemen.” This remains one reason I refuse to watch the film, as I have otherwise only seen the location mentioned there & on the “Friends” episode half my immediate family has memorized verbatim, neither of which ever use a “The” prior to the name of the country.
I don’t honestly know why (though I fully realize that means nobody does), but when I “steal” titles, I feel I need to start the blog explaining where I got it from. This time, I didn’t steal it at all, but I did “derive” it from a few sources. (Is that even a word in that tense?!) I therefore, likewise, & “all that good jazz” (altering the term I once heard current “Fault In Our Stars” cast-member @birbigs use) feel the need to explain it.
I only think I’ve ever heard the word “catfish” 3 times, which totals about once a decade. The last was whenever the MTV show began; The second/middle was the movie that “started it all” (though the people behind it may claim the events “documented” in the movie truly did that). The first was several years ago, as that was the first fish I ever caught when intentionally going fishing. [My Uncle Bill, who ironically had a birthday only last week, & also himself built a boat since that intentional-fishing trip he later launched on local water (video of which is still on this computer), has never that I recall explained to me why we didn't keep it the way I understand most fishermen do the majority of their catches... But being I was rather young & it was the first one I ever caught, I still have some sort of "sense memory" of being very upset by that.]
Lastly, the Mahoning River is a real body of water that I have ridden past several times in the cars of either of my parents… That said, the last time I went fishing was MANY years ago, & the last time I went anywhere near that river for any honestly-worth-documenting amount of time was during my visits to the nearby courts for all the “legal guardian” stuff, which I have documented on this blog FAR more than enough. (I am still not entirely done separating myself from that experience & what I am now choosing to refer to as its “offshoots”. While some might say I have one more step to complete, & will be finished when this week is, a long-existent part of my brain that prefers to expect the worst/least argues that I might have preferred serving a sentence the likes of which I’ve seen mentioned on recent airings of various “Law & Order” spinoffs, as it believes people serving such sentences can reform & live somewhat-normal-&-complete lives, whereas I will never be fully separated from that “guardian” or the “case”, regardless of the Probate Court site listing it in all-CAPS as “CLOSED”.)
Anyway, I am not in any rush (to put it mildly) to go fishing again. (I will probably eat another “BK Big Fish” within the next 2 weeks, but I don’t care to be or even know the person that catches it.) I also am not exactly in any rush to go near the Mahoning River, though I realize I have high odds whether I wish it or not, as it did flood during my lifetime, & I only today read a Rolling Stone article that discussed climate change leading to Miami & other coastal cities being placed underwater…
… That said, I am in the mood to go “hunting” for some sort of “catfish”, by saying which I mean searching online for actual genetic connections to my actual self.
Understand when I write this that I have said/written beyond the point of being redundant on my blogs that I love both my nephews & my niece. (This computer is filled with pics & video of my eldest nephew, who I have probably called “buddy” more than his actual name. His younger brother literally runs to me, says my name, & grabs my leg when I arrive at his big brother’s ‘ball games over the past week. My niece, meanwhile, is not even a-half-year old, & so barely says any words… However, I expect my name to come soon, as she only recently stopped her mouth from smiling at me the second she sees me literally anywhere.)
I also love my sister (to the point we referred to each other on the phone tonight at the end of the conversation solely by each other’s first initials, & this conversation happened only after she sent me 3 text-messages).
That all written, I have said rarely-but-repeatedly that if my doctor were to tell me at tomorrow’s appointment that I were adopted, I would be surprised by it coming from this particular doctor (a specialist in an area other than my family/genetics), but not at all by the news. At least 3 of my teachers Freshman Year of high school knew the first name of the man I’ve grown-up thinking (he) was my father before they’d even seen my face. I went to my first party at another student’s house when I was in high school due to my sister having invited someone via me, since they were my best friend for many years (many years prior, & to this very second); I wasn’t physically spending any “school hours” in the school building.
On the opposite side of things, much of my family & friends still hold (& speak of) the belief I have Diabetes. (This is another thing I have covered on my blogs “FAR more than enough”.) This is happening simultaneously with the same people (those who act towards it at all, anyway) seemingly refusing to believe or even have me tested for other diseases I verbally claim to believe I might have, despite my repeated claims/announcements of showing their symptoms. (One of my junior-high Health teachers was an old classmate of my mother’s, so I wonder how she’d feel knowing Mom seems to steadfastly refuse testing for these things, despite the fact her old classmate who is now a teacher telling me at least once the better odds of survival that come from early detection.)
Maybe it’s the way my also-oft-covered “living Improv” affects my memory, but I can’t recall anything else (if it ever actually existed) I wanted to cover on this topic/idea. I realize, by the way, I haven’t mentioned my Dad in a while. This was intentional… My Dad & I are actually taking a trip near the end of the week that would be right at the top of my “things to look forward to”/”things to live for” list that I believe I covered in a recent blog… I will be paying him back for my ticket to this event, which is ironic only because it was I who originally mentioned this event to him a few weeks ago, & in the time since, he said & did things that repeatedly upset me (not total; each individual one) to the point I was making myself OK with missing this event, deciding that attending was not worth the hour-or-so trip to-&-from with him.
Footnote Added At-Least-An-Hour Later: It hit me several minutes after typing the previous that I never mentioned the full title of this blog/entry was a “takeoff” of sorts on the film title, “Salmon Fishing In The Yemen”. Admittedly, I’ve never seen a single second of the film, though I remain aware it stars (among others) one of my long-time favorite film actors, Ewan MacGregor. [I have "A Life Less Ordinary" on DVD, & the soundtrack on CD, as well as recalling his vocal performance of a song I honestly don't recall the title of in with Cameron Diaz in that film better than the original... But have never seen a single scene of "Moulin Rouge" or "Trainspotting", & recall having walked home in evening darkness years ago when my next-door neighbors invited me to watch "Star Wars: Episode One" with them. (That said, I picture him in the film any time I hear his character's name mentioned in the "Weird Al" song related to the film.)]
I would not have added this “Footnote” at all if I had not turned-on a cable repeat of “NCIS: Los Angeles”, & heard “Hetty” mention helping break a character out of prison & sending him “all the way… to his family in Yemen.” This remains one reason I refuse to watch the film, as I have otherwise only seen the location mentioned there & on the “Friends” episode half my immediate family has memorized verbatim, neither of which ever use a “The” prior to the name of the country.
2014.6.23
In the words of Alan Jackson, “Where were you when the world stopped turning?”.
OK; So I don’t really know if it ever has. (In an aim to make my life seem more worth-living to me, I have often spent the day simply trying to find a way/reason to be moving somewhere, in a vehicle or on foot.) However, I didn’t want the first sentence of this blog to be as upsetting as my real starting question might be…
“Where were you on the morning of ‘9-11’?”
Growing up (as some may claim I am still doing), I heard a ton of people say there were moments of history during their lives that everyone in the country would remember where they were: The JFK assassination (about Negative-Twenty Years Old) was the big one, but the first I recall happening in my lifetime was “9-11″. Yes, I remember precisely where I was when the 2nd plane hit: I was sitting in a chair in my original home, getting mad at Matt Lauer. It was nothing personal, nor did it have anything to do with what he was saying, doing, or wearing; I had started a very-regular routine of waking at the same time, checking my blood-sugar, & watching “Judge Mathis”. I turned-on the channel, & it was Matt, continuing the “Today Show” due to the (apparently) “shocking events…”.
Twenty years later (doesn’t seem that long to me), I don’t recall what Matt said verbatim, nor many other major details. I do recall, however, what I continue to call “My One Good Thing To Come Out Of ‘9-11′”…Or rather, “who”. Due to filming at that time in the New York area, Conan O’Brien had a lot of bands coming on & performing optimistic tunes. One night, he brought out a group I had never heard of (he did that a lot, & still does) called “Fountains Of Wayne”. They performed what I later learned was a Kinks cover they had recorded before called, “Better Things”.
Lyric-wise, the song sounded to me like it belonged in a Disney film. (Covered in sugar, it seemed, as it was from “Mary Poppins”, long my sister’s favorite Disney flick.) But I liked something I still can’t specify about the group’s sound. I went soon to the local secondhand-disc store, & bought the only FOW disc I found. Over the next few years, they became one of my favorite groups. (I will always claim this was before they hit it big on the radio with “Stacy’s Mom”, or they were nominated for a Grammy for “Best New Artist”… For their THIRD ALBUM?!)
I’m (again) not sure why or how, but being a fan of theirs eventually led me to a song called, “Fountains Of Wayne Hotline”. It was performed by a singer-songwriter named Robbie Fulks. If you can find it, I suggest you get it. It’s a hilarious song I’m shocked he ever actually recorded (on no albums I can find, nor available anywhere in “MP3″ format.), as written by a wannabe artist who has trouble writing songs, so he calls the “Hotline” & talks to a few employees (none of them sharing names with actual FOW group members) who give him tips, ideas, etc…
Anyhow, I was watching TV last week, trying to transfer files from my still-problematic PC to 1 of a few external hard-drives (if not remove them permanently) before sending it off again to the local “Geek Squad”. (“Once more unto the geeks, my friends!” says a voice in my head that prefers mocking Shakespeare to the anger this often fills me with.) The show had a few live performances of other songs by Robbie, which I watched. Afterward, I looked for versions of those same songs in my Windows Media Player library. One of them is a song called, “Where I Fell”. Both verses end with him referring to a specific spot (different in 1 verse than the other) “…Where I Fell”.
The songwriter in myself (who has spent much, but not all of the past dozen years silent) wondered if one (or maybe both) of those places (as well as a few other places/things) he refers to in the song truly exist in his case. Unsure about him, but knowing I myself have fallen more than my share of places over the years, I decided I would spend 1 day this week heading to one of them, standing on/in it (the chosen spot was a pothole at the time of the fall, which is the reason I think I fell on/near there), & proclaiming (like Robbie in the song), “Now I dwell where I fell”.
I mentioned it to Mom briefly last night, being rather vague on purpose. (Mom has no mask, costume, or comic book, but I have long thought-&-said she feels great when she knows of someone who needs her help at any time; In fact, I am borrowing her PC right now while she is out-of-town, taking an Aunt to Cleveland Clinic.) She woke me this afternoon right before she left, & seconds after she left, I grabbed my necessary items (& a few “perhaps-I’ll-need/use” things), & headed out.
Side-note: I was ready to discuss my plan with anyone, since my destination was not indoors, which may lead/have led to questions. Also, I kept a “running log” on my Twitter account, going as far as to invite people to come & ask questions while I was having Lunch near my planned destination.
I left this building wearing the following “outfit”:
Usual wristwatch
Shoes ordered by my podiatrist about a year ago
Dark jeans (still including an especially-dark spot caused by the Banana Cream Pie Blizzard I had while my nephew celebrated his team’s local Athletic Club Championship yesterday)
The black shirt I bought covered in shoes, themselves covered in a phrase regarding, “Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.” (Needless to say, the whole saying is more humor than true suggestion, & I credit the late Mitch Hedberg as the first reason I heard it.)
Monkees sweatjacket I bought under a month ago (Largely b/c Mom had warned of predicted storms, another one of the reasons I originally fell in this spot)
—————
Long story short, I stopped at the local Taco Bell at the Mall’s Food Court (same menu, but I think a bit more cost, than the one up the block). I then walked through a bunch of the Mall, cutting through the JCPenney the way I had that original fall (for me; Summer for all others) day, & out the exit. I literally pointed with my index finger at the end of my fully-outstretched arm to the light-pole I recalled (perhaps incorrectly) falling near on that day. (I realize now I have not named/mentioned it. If you need to know, I can 95%-promise you it was June 19, 2007.)
I stopped within walking distance of the store I had just left & the local movie theatre I haven’t visited in I-literally-don’t-know-how-long. (I quietly debated amongst myself further steps, remembering I was headed from-movie-to-Mall the day of the fall… Did not mean for that to rhyme, I promise.) I then decided that specific didn’t matter, largely because repeating that detail would require me to cross a two-lane roadway of sorts between Mall parking & that of the nearby theater & “Expo Center”. (I specifically also recalled I believe myself to have tripped because I was looking at/for traffic on/in those lanes, & not paying attention to what awaited once I had crossed it.)
Finally, I shrugged, grumbled & mumbled a bit to myself, & started writing my own 3rd verse to the song, wondering “WTH?” (full words; Editing myself for content) happened to the pothole &/or rest of the area where I recall myself to have fallen. [Watching too much "NCIS: Los Angeles" makes me wonder who to call about them maybe still having the traffic/other surveillance tapes to prove what the reason(s) was/were I fell that day, & why it isn't/they aren't still there...I also laughed at the local Congressman I've longed disliked, with whom I share a first name & who I believe my Dad knows personally, perhaps causing me this issue/problem by actually (I believe) doing his job in this case/area.]
In the words of Alan Jackson, “Where were you when the world stopped turning?”.
OK; So I don’t really know if it ever has. (In an aim to make my life seem more worth-living to me, I have often spent the day simply trying to find a way/reason to be moving somewhere, in a vehicle or on foot.) However, I didn’t want the first sentence of this blog to be as upsetting as my real starting question might be…
“Where were you on the morning of ‘9-11’?”
Growing up (as some may claim I am still doing), I heard a ton of people say there were moments of history during their lives that everyone in the country would remember where they were: The JFK assassination (about Negative-Twenty Years Old) was the big one, but the first I recall happening in my lifetime was “9-11″. Yes, I remember precisely where I was when the 2nd plane hit: I was sitting in a chair in my original home, getting mad at Matt Lauer. It was nothing personal, nor did it have anything to do with what he was saying, doing, or wearing; I had started a very-regular routine of waking at the same time, checking my blood-sugar, & watching “Judge Mathis”. I turned-on the channel, & it was Matt, continuing the “Today Show” due to the (apparently) “shocking events…”.
Twenty years later (doesn’t seem that long to me), I don’t recall what Matt said verbatim, nor many other major details. I do recall, however, what I continue to call “My One Good Thing To Come Out Of ‘9-11′”…Or rather, “who”. Due to filming at that time in the New York area, Conan O’Brien had a lot of bands coming on & performing optimistic tunes. One night, he brought out a group I had never heard of (he did that a lot, & still does) called “Fountains Of Wayne”. They performed what I later learned was a Kinks cover they had recorded before called, “Better Things”.
Lyric-wise, the song sounded to me like it belonged in a Disney film. (Covered in sugar, it seemed, as it was from “Mary Poppins”, long my sister’s favorite Disney flick.) But I liked something I still can’t specify about the group’s sound. I went soon to the local secondhand-disc store, & bought the only FOW disc I found. Over the next few years, they became one of my favorite groups. (I will always claim this was before they hit it big on the radio with “Stacy’s Mom”, or they were nominated for a Grammy for “Best New Artist”… For their THIRD ALBUM?!)
I’m (again) not sure why or how, but being a fan of theirs eventually led me to a song called, “Fountains Of Wayne Hotline”. It was performed by a singer-songwriter named Robbie Fulks. If you can find it, I suggest you get it. It’s a hilarious song I’m shocked he ever actually recorded (on no albums I can find, nor available anywhere in “MP3″ format.), as written by a wannabe artist who has trouble writing songs, so he calls the “Hotline” & talks to a few employees (none of them sharing names with actual FOW group members) who give him tips, ideas, etc…
Anyhow, I was watching TV last week, trying to transfer files from my still-problematic PC to 1 of a few external hard-drives (if not remove them permanently) before sending it off again to the local “Geek Squad”. (“Once more unto the geeks, my friends!” says a voice in my head that prefers mocking Shakespeare to the anger this often fills me with.) The show had a few live performances of other songs by Robbie, which I watched. Afterward, I looked for versions of those same songs in my Windows Media Player library. One of them is a song called, “Where I Fell”. Both verses end with him referring to a specific spot (different in 1 verse than the other) “…Where I Fell”.
The songwriter in myself (who has spent much, but not all of the past dozen years silent) wondered if one (or maybe both) of those places (as well as a few other places/things) he refers to in the song truly exist in his case. Unsure about him, but knowing I myself have fallen more than my share of places over the years, I decided I would spend 1 day this week heading to one of them, standing on/in it (the chosen spot was a pothole at the time of the fall, which is the reason I think I fell on/near there), & proclaiming (like Robbie in the song), “Now I dwell where I fell”.
I mentioned it to Mom briefly last night, being rather vague on purpose. (Mom has no mask, costume, or comic book, but I have long thought-&-said she feels great when she knows of someone who needs her help at any time; In fact, I am borrowing her PC right now while she is out-of-town, taking an Aunt to Cleveland Clinic.) She woke me this afternoon right before she left, & seconds after she left, I grabbed my necessary items (& a few “perhaps-I’ll-need/use” things), & headed out.
Side-note: I was ready to discuss my plan with anyone, since my destination was not indoors, which may lead/have led to questions. Also, I kept a “running log” on my Twitter account, going as far as to invite people to come & ask questions while I was having Lunch near my planned destination.
I left this building wearing the following “outfit”:
Usual wristwatch
Shoes ordered by my podiatrist about a year ago
Dark jeans (still including an especially-dark spot caused by the Banana Cream Pie Blizzard I had while my nephew celebrated his team’s local Athletic Club Championship yesterday)
The black shirt I bought covered in shoes, themselves covered in a phrase regarding, “Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.” (Needless to say, the whole saying is more humor than true suggestion, & I credit the late Mitch Hedberg as the first reason I heard it.)
Monkees sweatjacket I bought under a month ago (Largely b/c Mom had warned of predicted storms, another one of the reasons I originally fell in this spot)
—————
Long story short, I stopped at the local Taco Bell at the Mall’s Food Court (same menu, but I think a bit more cost, than the one up the block). I then walked through a bunch of the Mall, cutting through the JCPenney the way I had that original fall (for me; Summer for all others) day, & out the exit. I literally pointed with my index finger at the end of my fully-outstretched arm to the light-pole I recalled (perhaps incorrectly) falling near on that day. (I realize now I have not named/mentioned it. If you need to know, I can 95%-promise you it was June 19, 2007.)
I stopped within walking distance of the store I had just left & the local movie theatre I haven’t visited in I-literally-don’t-know-how-long. (I quietly debated amongst myself further steps, remembering I was headed from-movie-to-Mall the day of the fall… Did not mean for that to rhyme, I promise.) I then decided that specific didn’t matter, largely because repeating that detail would require me to cross a two-lane roadway of sorts between Mall parking & that of the nearby theater & “Expo Center”. (I specifically also recalled I believe myself to have tripped because I was looking at/for traffic on/in those lanes, & not paying attention to what awaited once I had crossed it.)
Finally, I shrugged, grumbled & mumbled a bit to myself, & started writing my own 3rd verse to the song, wondering “WTH?” (full words; Editing myself for content) happened to the pothole &/or rest of the area where I recall myself to have fallen. [Watching too much "NCIS: Los Angeles" makes me wonder who to call about them maybe still having the traffic/other surveillance tapes to prove what the reason(s) was/were I fell that day, & why it isn't/they aren't still there...I also laughed at the local Congressman I've longed disliked, with whom I share a first name & who I believe my Dad knows personally, perhaps causing me this issue/problem by actually (I believe) doing his job in this case/area.]
2014.7.13
“Women That Fart”.
…OK; If that didn’t offend you, I find it safe to say that nothing else I write in this blog will…
Anyhow, I didn’t just mention that because the idea of women farting kind of makes me laugh. (No; Not the girls like I did plays or graduated school with, but the more-sophisticated types that go to art galleries or operas for fun, constantly refer to themselves as “women”, & often insist you do the same.) I also did it because thinking of it briefly this morning reminded me of that scene in “Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back”…
OK; Searching YouTube briefly got me nothing, so let me explain to those of you who haven’t see it: In the film, “Jay” & “Silent Bob” (the character created-&-played by the film’s writer/director, Kevin Smith) are on their way across the country (see the movie if you want to know why). At this point, they are in a van in which they’ve joined one guy & a group of girls. (I’d explain why these people are on their trip, but if you ever plan to see the film, it’s a decent-sized spoiler.) Eventually, they get into a conversation/argument about whether or not females flatulate.
Anyhow, this brings me kind of circular in the subject of this blog, as it was partially-inspired by that scene, & I saw Kevin Smith this morning on a commercial on IFC. I don’t recall what show it was for, or (naturally, then) if I’ve ever watched that show.
Back on my planned subject, I only saw that ad because it was played during a show titled, “Maron”. This was my first & only (thus far, but probably not for long) time watching the show. For those of you unaware, it stars writer/actor/comic Marc Maron, playing a semi-fictionalized version of himself.
I have watched him for years when he was a guest on talk shows hosted by Conan O’Brien (back before the mess at NBC, who would probably love to have either of them host a talk show there now). For that reason, I watched him a few weeks ago when he was a guest on Conan’s TBS show. One of the things he was “plugging” was his TV show.
Another thing he discussed was his “podcast”, titled (in whole or in part), “WTF”. I am well-aware what it probably stands for in that case; However, if you read my previous blog, you’ll see I often edit myself for content (like movies shown on basic cable, even after Midnight)…. See how I get the circle?!
Anyhow, the episode they aired today was one entitled, “Radio Cowboy”. Having never seen the show before, the onscreen description of this one sounded like something I might be very-much interested in: Marc (playing a podcast-host as he truly is) spends time on a radio morning show (like some he used to host in both his real & fictional lives), & comes to believe radio is dead & podcasts are the future. Soon, however, he finds & tries to help (“…help future-ize?”… “…help anachronize?” Something like that) an old radio host.
Back off-screen, I’m sitting here (in my room & then the living room), watching the show. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, a small part of it is thinking about my future. (I still claim to “live improv”, & believe I do so honestly, having never believed to this second the proper definition of the word/term meaning doing anything at all with no thought whatsoever.) I sit in this apartment a few hours a day. The entire time I do so, I have maybe a half-dozen “short stories” ready for publishing. (Some have even literally been submitted to publishers.) I also have an entirely-original, clean-enough-for-all-audiences (from my 6-year-old nephew to my father’s 90-plus-year-old Aunt & all in-between) musical play which is (what I call) “technically complete”. I am more than happy to take a writing job at the local paper, who prove they need me simply by the number of mistakes in one edition (& have printed opinion-pieces & the like I’ve submitted many times in the past, even E-mailing me to ask for more specifically from me on specific subjects). I am/would-be also “more than happy” to talk about anything on any local TV station (I E-mailed one & talked to an employee on the phone about possible programming), & would only “shy away from” radio due to the fact my name automatically calls-up for many my connection to my father, who has done his share (as well as dozens-of-others’ share) of work on the medium.
Anyhow, I then (at the end of the show) briefly hopped online to mention on Twitter that In had watched-&-enjoyed it. I hopped back offline (wanting to be ready to leave soon, the trip honestly being the only reason I had wanted to wake up at the time the episode began), & thought some more. I thought mainly about myself (I’m an egomaniac to a point, but if you knew a lot about me, you wouldn’t blame me), & (again) my own future. More-specifically, I thought about the chances of hosting a podcast or something myself.
I would have some definite problems, the first being I don’t own a microphone. (It looks on the show as if podcasts need at least two.) We used to have a TON in the house when Dad lived with us, & I bet he still has a bunch of them I could use simply by asking. The problem that brings me is the guests to invite on my podcast… This is where the other problem actually helps; My first plan to “fix” it was to do the podcast in some sort of non-audio style, leaving me a wide choice of guests, & I have a list I could contact through “tweets”, E-mails, phone calls (sounds sort of “Cro-Magnon” now; Doesn’t it?), text-messages, & the like.
Of course, if I wanted to reach out to the majority of those people as guests (I would eventually need to get most of them; I’ve long wondered how shows that get renewed for many years, as “Big Bang Theory” recently did, manage/plan how to fill that many episodes after celebrating the news), I would run into the problem of most having little-or-nothing to “plug”/discuss… However, as I believe I saw Donny Deutsch say on “The Today Show” once (paraphrasing here), “There are a lot of people with million-dollar ideas, but most lack the oomph to give them a shot.” It is my belief (especially since Hollywood moves into remakes of “Spider-Man” for movies a decade after the first trilogy began, & is about to release the first of what I believe to be a third set of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” movies) that TV & film media rehash so many ideas almost-literally to death because they simply refuse to try ANY of the new ones that come along.
Seriously, let me know your thoughts on this!!! I want to know if I should go through with my new idea, which I have temporarily titled “T. I. P. P, E. R.” (Thanks to my student & staff friends at the local Kent Campus for semi-connecting me to this author & his book), as well as any thoughts about/ideas you have for it.
“Women That Fart”.
…OK; If that didn’t offend you, I find it safe to say that nothing else I write in this blog will…
Anyhow, I didn’t just mention that because the idea of women farting kind of makes me laugh. (No; Not the girls like I did plays or graduated school with, but the more-sophisticated types that go to art galleries or operas for fun, constantly refer to themselves as “women”, & often insist you do the same.) I also did it because thinking of it briefly this morning reminded me of that scene in “Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back”…
OK; Searching YouTube briefly got me nothing, so let me explain to those of you who haven’t see it: In the film, “Jay” & “Silent Bob” (the character created-&-played by the film’s writer/director, Kevin Smith) are on their way across the country (see the movie if you want to know why). At this point, they are in a van in which they’ve joined one guy & a group of girls. (I’d explain why these people are on their trip, but if you ever plan to see the film, it’s a decent-sized spoiler.) Eventually, they get into a conversation/argument about whether or not females flatulate.
Anyhow, this brings me kind of circular in the subject of this blog, as it was partially-inspired by that scene, & I saw Kevin Smith this morning on a commercial on IFC. I don’t recall what show it was for, or (naturally, then) if I’ve ever watched that show.
Back on my planned subject, I only saw that ad because it was played during a show titled, “Maron”. This was my first & only (thus far, but probably not for long) time watching the show. For those of you unaware, it stars writer/actor/comic Marc Maron, playing a semi-fictionalized version of himself.
I have watched him for years when he was a guest on talk shows hosted by Conan O’Brien (back before the mess at NBC, who would probably love to have either of them host a talk show there now). For that reason, I watched him a few weeks ago when he was a guest on Conan’s TBS show. One of the things he was “plugging” was his TV show.
Another thing he discussed was his “podcast”, titled (in whole or in part), “WTF”. I am well-aware what it probably stands for in that case; However, if you read my previous blog, you’ll see I often edit myself for content (like movies shown on basic cable, even after Midnight)…. See how I get the circle?!
Anyhow, the episode they aired today was one entitled, “Radio Cowboy”. Having never seen the show before, the onscreen description of this one sounded like something I might be very-much interested in: Marc (playing a podcast-host as he truly is) spends time on a radio morning show (like some he used to host in both his real & fictional lives), & comes to believe radio is dead & podcasts are the future. Soon, however, he finds & tries to help (“…help future-ize?”… “…help anachronize?” Something like that) an old radio host.
Back off-screen, I’m sitting here (in my room & then the living room), watching the show. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind, a small part of it is thinking about my future. (I still claim to “live improv”, & believe I do so honestly, having never believed to this second the proper definition of the word/term meaning doing anything at all with no thought whatsoever.) I sit in this apartment a few hours a day. The entire time I do so, I have maybe a half-dozen “short stories” ready for publishing. (Some have even literally been submitted to publishers.) I also have an entirely-original, clean-enough-for-all-audiences (from my 6-year-old nephew to my father’s 90-plus-year-old Aunt & all in-between) musical play which is (what I call) “technically complete”. I am more than happy to take a writing job at the local paper, who prove they need me simply by the number of mistakes in one edition (& have printed opinion-pieces & the like I’ve submitted many times in the past, even E-mailing me to ask for more specifically from me on specific subjects). I am/would-be also “more than happy” to talk about anything on any local TV station (I E-mailed one & talked to an employee on the phone about possible programming), & would only “shy away from” radio due to the fact my name automatically calls-up for many my connection to my father, who has done his share (as well as dozens-of-others’ share) of work on the medium.
Anyhow, I then (at the end of the show) briefly hopped online to mention on Twitter that In had watched-&-enjoyed it. I hopped back offline (wanting to be ready to leave soon, the trip honestly being the only reason I had wanted to wake up at the time the episode began), & thought some more. I thought mainly about myself (I’m an egomaniac to a point, but if you knew a lot about me, you wouldn’t blame me), & (again) my own future. More-specifically, I thought about the chances of hosting a podcast or something myself.
I would have some definite problems, the first being I don’t own a microphone. (It looks on the show as if podcasts need at least two.) We used to have a TON in the house when Dad lived with us, & I bet he still has a bunch of them I could use simply by asking. The problem that brings me is the guests to invite on my podcast… This is where the other problem actually helps; My first plan to “fix” it was to do the podcast in some sort of non-audio style, leaving me a wide choice of guests, & I have a list I could contact through “tweets”, E-mails, phone calls (sounds sort of “Cro-Magnon” now; Doesn’t it?), text-messages, & the like.
Of course, if I wanted to reach out to the majority of those people as guests (I would eventually need to get most of them; I’ve long wondered how shows that get renewed for many years, as “Big Bang Theory” recently did, manage/plan how to fill that many episodes after celebrating the news), I would run into the problem of most having little-or-nothing to “plug”/discuss… However, as I believe I saw Donny Deutsch say on “The Today Show” once (paraphrasing here), “There are a lot of people with million-dollar ideas, but most lack the oomph to give them a shot.” It is my belief (especially since Hollywood moves into remakes of “Spider-Man” for movies a decade after the first trilogy began, & is about to release the first of what I believe to be a third set of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle” movies) that TV & film media rehash so many ideas almost-literally to death because they simply refuse to try ANY of the new ones that come along.
Seriously, let me know your thoughts on this!!! I want to know if I should go through with my new idea, which I have temporarily titled “T. I. P. P, E. R.” (Thanks to my student & staff friends at the local Kent Campus for semi-connecting me to this author & his book), as well as any thoughts about/ideas you have for it.
2014.7.30
OK; I know I haven’t been blogging as much lately as I once did, & I’m really quite sorry about that. But before I really get this one going, & fill you in on what I’m doing & why, I’ve got one question for you to think about; A question that has to deal with your own life, specifically, more than mine…
WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED?!
Don’t go off answering that one too fast now… Think about what you’ve really learned, not from me or anything I’ve ever written or said, but from/in your life. If you really take the time & think it through, I’ll bet the answer isn’t as long at the end as it is initially.
Let me explain what I mean…
About 8 hours ago, I was sitting in a different room of this apartment, getting ready to watch the Monday-night wrestling show with my Dad. (We’ve done that a lot.) Before “Raw”, the USA Network often shows “NCIS”. That night was no different, & this episode ended with scenes featuring Mark Harmon & Charles Durning… Or was it Brian Dennehy?
I know it really doesn’t make a difference in this case, but I asked myself the same question aloud at the time. I IDed the actor as “Charles Durning”, & Dad confirmed it. I said, “He’s good,” & Dad didn’t really react. I then asked aloud, “Or is it Brian Dennehy?”, telling Dad I find myself getting them confused occasionally, but that it didn’t really matter, because I thought both were good. (This then brought me reminders to read my paperback copies of “Iceman Cometh”, & then “Glass Menagerie”, after which I mumbled awhile at a volume even I couldn’t understand.)
Back to the question… On the same Network, I used to watch a show I loved called “Psych”. One of the main characters was named “Gus”, played by Dule Hill. One thing I recall about him was a “pick-up routine” he had starting with something like, “Did you hear about Pluto?”. I only mention that because one of the things I learned in school was the names of all the planets, which at the time, included Pluto. I graduated less than 2 decades ago, & that’s no longer the case. Even so, I often find myself wondering if Pluto won’t be re-classified as a planet later in my life, or a brand-new planet will be added to the list.
If I’m being honest (which I largely aim to do online), I really am worried about that, but not so much for me; I’m more worried for my sister’s kids. I have 2 nephews & a niece. My older nephew is “going through grades like gangbusters”, as I’ve come to say it. It really means one-per-year like most should, but regardless… Who’s to say he hasn’t already learned something that will change before he graduates?!
That, everyone, is an honest explanation of why I’m up typing this blog on my computer at a few minutes to 5 AM. Not for anyone in my family, or for the intelligent life that may be on any (past, present, or future) planets… But because of my brain.
I mean specifically my brain; Not what I know, or used to know (like that old Gotye song), or what I think I know (or even know I think), but my brain. As someone used to say (I thought it was Colin on “Whose Line…?”, & Google now seems to back me up), “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had memories.” I honestly don’t remember being told it, but going back long before time I can remember events from, I’ve gone to people I’ve simply referred to as “my neuro- dudes”. To the best of my knowledge, that’s probably gonna be seen by some as disrespectful, as they were all licensed doctors. But it’s not (like some old documents from this country) negating the time I saw women, as in this area, I don’t (didn’t; been reminded & corrected in the says since first draft) recall that there have been any females.
Anyway, put “back to basics”, I’ve had hydrocephalus, & been shunted. (I believed one set of facts for 20 years, but Google & WebMD “pulled a Pluto” on those some half-dozen years ago.) About 3 years ago, I started having seizures. My neuro- guy of the time (I’ve seen a mix of “neurologists” & “neurosurgeons”, & I believe he’s solely the latter) literally sent me to his brother. (They are genetically brothers, I believe literally using the exact-same rooms at varying times in the same office.) I went through a few supposed anti-seizure meds (felt a bit like free samples I used to get at the grocery store), but have been taking the same one regularly for quite some time now, & went most of that with little-to-no seizure-like activity.
Then came this month. This month, I continue to take all my medications. Regardless, I have what seem to me (the only one living this life, & the only one living in this body, which makes me feel like my perspective should be the main one relied-upon if not the only one that matters) to be multiple seizures a day. In addition, I have what I literally feel (& other relatives have confirmed) is a new bump on my head a bit below my current “shunt”… It hurts literally 24-7.
I am planning to call…. I guess it would be “later today” to get the soonest-possible appointment with my current neurosurgeon. (I’ve been telling him basically since I met him the shunt is “malfunctioning”, if in fact it’s “functioning” at all. This particular surgeon refused to operate unless I took some sort of anti-seizure medication. I have literally 2 guesses what his response will be when I tell him I take it & still have multiple seizures a day; One is taking the blame, the other is finding some way to still blame it on me. I’m hoping he’ll realize only putting the blame/the necessity of action on himself will allow me to live until my next scheduled appointment.) (Another Update: Did this Wednesday.)
Regardless, as much I was in the process of typing a blog about it earlier this same week, I’m really having no trouble sleeping lately. (A questionnaire my general doctor has patients fill-out every visit truly asks, “Have you often recently had trouble being unable to sleep… Or sleeping too much?”. Last week, I chose, “Yes,” hoping this man who had taken so much more schooling than me would realize asking the question that way taught him nothing regardless of my answer.) Actually, as my being VERY awake & active (& having just finished watching a DVD) will attest to, I have times of sleeping amazingly, & also times I could walk for miles while proverbially chewing gum without trouble.
The simple fact is I have chosen not to… Do much of anything. My sister brought all 3 kids here Saturday, & I intentionally stayed away. Mom offered to pick me up for our weekly family Lunch the next day, & I again rejected the offer. My older nephew is amid soccer practices, & while I made much of his recent sport season (where they won the Title, as proven by a picture on my cell-phone including him, a trophy, & me), I’m not sure I’ll make much of the soccer season. (Yet another update: Found myself joining Mom in going to his practice Wednesday afternoon.)
I have said since quite near the day he was born I am “addicted” to my nephew. My younger nephew literally grabs my leg at every weekly Lunch, to the point I consider ordering 2 of everything in case I drop 1 when he attaches himself. My niece, meanwhile, has developed a running bit of “always has a smile for” her Uncle. It is (ironically, you may say) precisely that reason I am avoiding them.
I have had hydrocephalus for literally 3 decades, & been told I was “Type 1″ Diabetic for a dozen years. To the best of my knowledge, neither is curable, & either could potentially, eventually (almost alliterative) be fatal. Therefore, I am aiming to be awake & active in some form as much as I can, simultaneously to not waste a moment, as well as to not miss it if we have an eclipse or something I might be able to view if awake. However, I am simultaneously trying to avoid seeing (or, more-accurately, being seen by) my younger relatives. In much the same way Joni Mitchell (& later Adam Duritz) sang, “You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”, I am assuming (based on my own “life experience”) that should whatever’s worsened recently take me away, they’ll get over it easier if it’d been a long time since they’d seen me while/even-though I was alive.
OK; I know I haven’t been blogging as much lately as I once did, & I’m really quite sorry about that. But before I really get this one going, & fill you in on what I’m doing & why, I’ve got one question for you to think about; A question that has to deal with your own life, specifically, more than mine…
WHAT HAVE YOU LEARNED?!
Don’t go off answering that one too fast now… Think about what you’ve really learned, not from me or anything I’ve ever written or said, but from/in your life. If you really take the time & think it through, I’ll bet the answer isn’t as long at the end as it is initially.
Let me explain what I mean…
About 8 hours ago, I was sitting in a different room of this apartment, getting ready to watch the Monday-night wrestling show with my Dad. (We’ve done that a lot.) Before “Raw”, the USA Network often shows “NCIS”. That night was no different, & this episode ended with scenes featuring Mark Harmon & Charles Durning… Or was it Brian Dennehy?
I know it really doesn’t make a difference in this case, but I asked myself the same question aloud at the time. I IDed the actor as “Charles Durning”, & Dad confirmed it. I said, “He’s good,” & Dad didn’t really react. I then asked aloud, “Or is it Brian Dennehy?”, telling Dad I find myself getting them confused occasionally, but that it didn’t really matter, because I thought both were good. (This then brought me reminders to read my paperback copies of “Iceman Cometh”, & then “Glass Menagerie”, after which I mumbled awhile at a volume even I couldn’t understand.)
Back to the question… On the same Network, I used to watch a show I loved called “Psych”. One of the main characters was named “Gus”, played by Dule Hill. One thing I recall about him was a “pick-up routine” he had starting with something like, “Did you hear about Pluto?”. I only mention that because one of the things I learned in school was the names of all the planets, which at the time, included Pluto. I graduated less than 2 decades ago, & that’s no longer the case. Even so, I often find myself wondering if Pluto won’t be re-classified as a planet later in my life, or a brand-new planet will be added to the list.
If I’m being honest (which I largely aim to do online), I really am worried about that, but not so much for me; I’m more worried for my sister’s kids. I have 2 nephews & a niece. My older nephew is “going through grades like gangbusters”, as I’ve come to say it. It really means one-per-year like most should, but regardless… Who’s to say he hasn’t already learned something that will change before he graduates?!
That, everyone, is an honest explanation of why I’m up typing this blog on my computer at a few minutes to 5 AM. Not for anyone in my family, or for the intelligent life that may be on any (past, present, or future) planets… But because of my brain.
I mean specifically my brain; Not what I know, or used to know (like that old Gotye song), or what I think I know (or even know I think), but my brain. As someone used to say (I thought it was Colin on “Whose Line…?”, & Google now seems to back me up), “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had memories.” I honestly don’t remember being told it, but going back long before time I can remember events from, I’ve gone to people I’ve simply referred to as “my neuro- dudes”. To the best of my knowledge, that’s probably gonna be seen by some as disrespectful, as they were all licensed doctors. But it’s not (like some old documents from this country) negating the time I saw women, as in this area, I don’t (didn’t; been reminded & corrected in the says since first draft) recall that there have been any females.
Anyway, put “back to basics”, I’ve had hydrocephalus, & been shunted. (I believed one set of facts for 20 years, but Google & WebMD “pulled a Pluto” on those some half-dozen years ago.) About 3 years ago, I started having seizures. My neuro- guy of the time (I’ve seen a mix of “neurologists” & “neurosurgeons”, & I believe he’s solely the latter) literally sent me to his brother. (They are genetically brothers, I believe literally using the exact-same rooms at varying times in the same office.) I went through a few supposed anti-seizure meds (felt a bit like free samples I used to get at the grocery store), but have been taking the same one regularly for quite some time now, & went most of that with little-to-no seizure-like activity.
Then came this month. This month, I continue to take all my medications. Regardless, I have what seem to me (the only one living this life, & the only one living in this body, which makes me feel like my perspective should be the main one relied-upon if not the only one that matters) to be multiple seizures a day. In addition, I have what I literally feel (& other relatives have confirmed) is a new bump on my head a bit below my current “shunt”… It hurts literally 24-7.
I am planning to call…. I guess it would be “later today” to get the soonest-possible appointment with my current neurosurgeon. (I’ve been telling him basically since I met him the shunt is “malfunctioning”, if in fact it’s “functioning” at all. This particular surgeon refused to operate unless I took some sort of anti-seizure medication. I have literally 2 guesses what his response will be when I tell him I take it & still have multiple seizures a day; One is taking the blame, the other is finding some way to still blame it on me. I’m hoping he’ll realize only putting the blame/the necessity of action on himself will allow me to live until my next scheduled appointment.) (Another Update: Did this Wednesday.)
Regardless, as much I was in the process of typing a blog about it earlier this same week, I’m really having no trouble sleeping lately. (A questionnaire my general doctor has patients fill-out every visit truly asks, “Have you often recently had trouble being unable to sleep… Or sleeping too much?”. Last week, I chose, “Yes,” hoping this man who had taken so much more schooling than me would realize asking the question that way taught him nothing regardless of my answer.) Actually, as my being VERY awake & active (& having just finished watching a DVD) will attest to, I have times of sleeping amazingly, & also times I could walk for miles while proverbially chewing gum without trouble.
The simple fact is I have chosen not to… Do much of anything. My sister brought all 3 kids here Saturday, & I intentionally stayed away. Mom offered to pick me up for our weekly family Lunch the next day, & I again rejected the offer. My older nephew is amid soccer practices, & while I made much of his recent sport season (where they won the Title, as proven by a picture on my cell-phone including him, a trophy, & me), I’m not sure I’ll make much of the soccer season. (Yet another update: Found myself joining Mom in going to his practice Wednesday afternoon.)
I have said since quite near the day he was born I am “addicted” to my nephew. My younger nephew literally grabs my leg at every weekly Lunch, to the point I consider ordering 2 of everything in case I drop 1 when he attaches himself. My niece, meanwhile, has developed a running bit of “always has a smile for” her Uncle. It is (ironically, you may say) precisely that reason I am avoiding them.
I have had hydrocephalus for literally 3 decades, & been told I was “Type 1″ Diabetic for a dozen years. To the best of my knowledge, neither is curable, & either could potentially, eventually (almost alliterative) be fatal. Therefore, I am aiming to be awake & active in some form as much as I can, simultaneously to not waste a moment, as well as to not miss it if we have an eclipse or something I might be able to view if awake. However, I am simultaneously trying to avoid seeing (or, more-accurately, being seen by) my younger relatives. In much the same way Joni Mitchell (& later Adam Duritz) sang, “You don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone”, I am assuming (based on my own “life experience”) that should whatever’s worsened recently take me away, they’ll get over it easier if it’d been a long time since they’d seen me while/even-though I was alive.
shirley wilmoth says:
first..what have I learned? Not that I would claim to be full of wisdom, I have learned a lot in my 60 some years about many different things and I am still learning and still enjoying learning. Secondly, Tim you need to tell your doctor that the anti-seizure meds are not working and that you are sleeping way too much and also that you are depressed and concerned at the thought of your maybe-soon death. You need to reach out to others including Jen and her children instead of withdrawing from them. You need to seek the Lord, and fellowship with His followers and pray that God show you His plan for your life even though you are not in the best of health.
July 31, 2014 at 9:35 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley, I would tell him the meds are doing nothing… But (as I believe I said in this blog), he literally verbally refused to operate on me at all unless I agreed to take these meds. I believe the shunt is having problems (much the way it was in ’92 or ’93), so I need to do whatever I can on my proverbial end to facilitate him agreeing to operate.
Next, as I (again) believe I explained in the blog, I believe backing away from J & the kids is what’s best for them & me… Also, for every FB post Ma shows me from J w/neat pics or something about the kids, there is one complaining about her day. The vast majority of the time, any news I have is either truly none at all or bad news, & she doesn’t need anyone adding to that.
Lastly, I went to Lunch with Dad about 6 weeks ago (think you & Ma were singing at Covenant or something), & told him I am considering sub-titling my autobio, “God’s Guinea Pig”. I’ve narrowed it down to 2 options: Either there’s nobody up there, or there is one, & he just semi-regularly decides to see what/how-much I can survive.
July 31, 2014 at 9:42 PM
shirley wilmoth says:
“there is One”
July 31, 2014 at 10:57 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley, I used to believe that, too… But as I said in the blog, I went to the same schools Thomas does (& Jen & Matt did, too), & they taught us Pluto was a planet. Now, not so much…
As it turns out, I already caught the show I’d be watching late tonight On-Demand, so maybe I’ll see if “You-Know-Who” gets mentioned (or they show a picture) in Craig Ferguson’s monologue. If not, you have as much proof as I do: A big, fat 0.
July 31, 2014 at 11:03 PM
shirley wilmoth says:
“you know who?” who?
August 1, 2014 at 2:45 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Don’t mean to be disrespectful in my answer to this question AT ALL… But see no reason to name someone we both truly know doesn’t exist.
August 1, 2014 at 5:31 PM
first..what have I learned? Not that I would claim to be full of wisdom, I have learned a lot in my 60 some years about many different things and I am still learning and still enjoying learning. Secondly, Tim you need to tell your doctor that the anti-seizure meds are not working and that you are sleeping way too much and also that you are depressed and concerned at the thought of your maybe-soon death. You need to reach out to others including Jen and her children instead of withdrawing from them. You need to seek the Lord, and fellowship with His followers and pray that God show you His plan for your life even though you are not in the best of health.
July 31, 2014 at 9:35 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley, I would tell him the meds are doing nothing… But (as I believe I said in this blog), he literally verbally refused to operate on me at all unless I agreed to take these meds. I believe the shunt is having problems (much the way it was in ’92 or ’93), so I need to do whatever I can on my proverbial end to facilitate him agreeing to operate.
Next, as I (again) believe I explained in the blog, I believe backing away from J & the kids is what’s best for them & me… Also, for every FB post Ma shows me from J w/neat pics or something about the kids, there is one complaining about her day. The vast majority of the time, any news I have is either truly none at all or bad news, & she doesn’t need anyone adding to that.
Lastly, I went to Lunch with Dad about 6 weeks ago (think you & Ma were singing at Covenant or something), & told him I am considering sub-titling my autobio, “God’s Guinea Pig”. I’ve narrowed it down to 2 options: Either there’s nobody up there, or there is one, & he just semi-regularly decides to see what/how-much I can survive.
July 31, 2014 at 9:42 PM
shirley wilmoth says:
“there is One”
July 31, 2014 at 10:57 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley, I used to believe that, too… But as I said in the blog, I went to the same schools Thomas does (& Jen & Matt did, too), & they taught us Pluto was a planet. Now, not so much…
As it turns out, I already caught the show I’d be watching late tonight On-Demand, so maybe I’ll see if “You-Know-Who” gets mentioned (or they show a picture) in Craig Ferguson’s monologue. If not, you have as much proof as I do: A big, fat 0.
July 31, 2014 at 11:03 PM
shirley wilmoth says:
“you know who?” who?
August 1, 2014 at 2:45 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Don’t mean to be disrespectful in my answer to this question AT ALL… But see no reason to name someone we both truly know doesn’t exist.
August 1, 2014 at 5:31 PM
2014.8.12
So, what’s the latest from me? Not a statement of real news, but a statement of fact, which is simply this: I gotta move.
I’m not saying that because “You Gotta Move” was the title of Aerosmith’s last DVD prior to the most-recent one (like that means anything; They just released the third “Ninja Turtles” movie in as many decades, & I’m not counting the sequels). I’m also not meaning that I have to move out of this apartment. (I think I should “As Soon As Quick”, but good luck finding a realtor who’s in their office at 5 AM on a Saturday & doesn’t themselves live there!) I’m saying that because of “AAA”…
… But I’ll get to that. First off, let me cover the “insurance” part of this. Of course, for any reader who is anywhere near my age & like me has never been employed (technically; I believe a no-longer-existent company owes me a few small paychecks), that means “Obamacare”. When I read or hear that phrase, I think of Carrie (“Solve The Big Problem That Caused Her To Play ‘Maria'”) Underwood & Brad Paisley, & the song they did about it at the CMAs a few years back…
Regardless, I’ll admit here I voted for him twice, but have come
to regret it, although not due to anything related to health insurance. Aside from that, I’ve got a medical history as big as some phone books, but I also have long said I don’t need to worry about any of it, as I have “insurance up the ying-yang”. (This is what I called it when I was younger; I’ve decided to save time in recent years, simply calling it “insurance up the wazoo”.)
Regardless of what type of insurance you have, there is one BIG problem with all of it I think anyone reading this will agree with… That being that “the insurance pays”. For instance, my current insurance pays for things I need for my (diagnosed) Diabetes…. But only partially… And only the insulin, not the needles I use to give myself the insulin. (I may have that backwards, but I know it’s one & not the other.) Also, for instance, my insurance will cover the appointment I made with my neurosurgeon this coming week; If, however, he again chooses not to operate at/by the end of the appointment, my insurance will still cover any costs associated with the time he spent with me. (Oh, how I wish I could contact them to put a “stop payment” on that check! I’m betting it would end-up in court, but it would be worth it all the more to me to get him on a TV court show, so people across this state & country know that this may be the one “-surgeon” out there who refuses to operate when any other neuro-guy whose own brain actually works can see the patient’s life depends on it!!)
That reminds me (I’ve long wished my neuro- people could tell me why my brain takes trips like this)… Once again (already said it on Twitter), happy (now-belated) brithday to Stan Freberg! In my mind, his name automatically makes me think of the old TV episode, “Monkee Vs. Machine”. I think of that now because it near-starts with still-performing Monkees Peter Tork & Mike Nesmith being (separately) interviewed for a job by a machine. When Peter asks why he can’t talk to a human, the machine goes into a long speech that I always recall ends with something about the use of a machine helping to lessen the possibility of “the human error”.
That is the main problem I was referring to about what the insurance does cover/pay for; We all (as the saying goes; I stopped doing this around my early ‘teens) give anyone with “Doctor” before their names such respect & trust, in addition to any financial gain they indirectly recieve from us. (It reminds me of an old “Law & Order: SVU” episode that includes a scripted piece spoken about trusting a respected doctor, a dramatic bit spoken by usually-comedic actor Robin Williams, who of course himself earned an Oscar playing… What else? A doctor; We all know Academy Awards haven’t given one to someone in a comedy in quite some time.)
For instance, whatever insurance(s) I had at the time no doubt paid for my now-inactive endocrinologist when I began seeing him after I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. (I’ve made absolutely no secret about my continued disbelief of this diagnosis, but have kept relatively quite about him lying to me about a medication he eventually put me on that wasn’t at the time FDA-approved for my age group, or how he eventually dropped me as a patient due to being unable to contact me while I was in an out-of-town hispital due to an infection caused by something that even a-decade-plus later could be easily traced back to him.)
Insurances have continued to pay for each endocrinologist I’ve seen, including the one who (again) dropped me as a patient because I (& a company associated with them) thought I was a good candidate for an insulin pump, & he had a personal issue with the objects/their manufacturers. They then paid for the one I saw in Pennsylvania, who I saw maybe twice (couldn’t pick her out of the proverbial lineup now), despite going to her office at least a half-dozen times. Keep following the sequence, & I can try to cut-&-paste the list of 5 endocrinologists’ names & addresses they E-mailed me this year, 1 of which was the man with the pump personal issue, & another 3 of which were the one who I’d been seeing for a while, until she had recently moved out-of-state, that relocation being the reason I had initially contacted them & asked them for the list.
OK; Even I’m tired of all that. (You wanna discuss insurance with me, then we both need to check our life-insurance policies, as it may take me a few years; I keep myself under controls where I don’t form opinions on shows-or-movies I haven’t seen, but I also tend to over-inform/over-think myself on things.) Let me get to the “AAA”.
When I refer to “AAA”, I’m not referring to the car service. (Never had a license in my life.) I’m also not referring to anything related to Alcoholics Anonymous. (No joke; Only ever had 1 alcoholic drink in my life, & was literally in rehab at the time.) I’m referring to right here, right now: “Always-Active August”.
That’s the way I can best, honestly explain why I’m up at a-quarter-to-6 on a Saturday morning, typing this blog while simultaneously wondering what I can do next when I’m finished. It’s also the best honest explanation for why I’m sitting here, waiting for my hair to dry from the shower I exited under an hour ago. Lastly, it’s the top reasoning for why I walked 30 uninterrupted “laps” of part of this apartment 2 hours ago…
Long story short (too little, too late for that maybe), some part of me is always thinking that I won’t be killed by any cold or other sickness I catch, any allergy I may have, or the neuro-, kidney, or heart issues I’ve been diagnosed with over the past few decades; I’m predicting I will be rolled “into my last shallow bed” (quoting a GREAT old Cory Branan song) due to something I may have now or get later, but without anyone being aware until I’m already “Goin’ Down” (Just-as-GREAT Monkees song). Therefore, being (as I actively consider myself) constantly aware that I am constantly unaware how much time I have left, I want to make sure I don’t waste a second of it.
The latest from me now? I have no clue of anything else I wanna type in this blog, nor any idea how to spend the next 9 minutes before new shows start on TV. (5:51 AM)
So, what’s the latest from me? Not a statement of real news, but a statement of fact, which is simply this: I gotta move.
I’m not saying that because “You Gotta Move” was the title of Aerosmith’s last DVD prior to the most-recent one (like that means anything; They just released the third “Ninja Turtles” movie in as many decades, & I’m not counting the sequels). I’m also not meaning that I have to move out of this apartment. (I think I should “As Soon As Quick”, but good luck finding a realtor who’s in their office at 5 AM on a Saturday & doesn’t themselves live there!) I’m saying that because of “AAA”…
… But I’ll get to that. First off, let me cover the “insurance” part of this. Of course, for any reader who is anywhere near my age & like me has never been employed (technically; I believe a no-longer-existent company owes me a few small paychecks), that means “Obamacare”. When I read or hear that phrase, I think of Carrie (“Solve The Big Problem That Caused Her To Play ‘Maria'”) Underwood & Brad Paisley, & the song they did about it at the CMAs a few years back…
Regardless, I’ll admit here I voted for him twice, but have come
to regret it, although not due to anything related to health insurance. Aside from that, I’ve got a medical history as big as some phone books, but I also have long said I don’t need to worry about any of it, as I have “insurance up the ying-yang”. (This is what I called it when I was younger; I’ve decided to save time in recent years, simply calling it “insurance up the wazoo”.)
Regardless of what type of insurance you have, there is one BIG problem with all of it I think anyone reading this will agree with… That being that “the insurance pays”. For instance, my current insurance pays for things I need for my (diagnosed) Diabetes…. But only partially… And only the insulin, not the needles I use to give myself the insulin. (I may have that backwards, but I know it’s one & not the other.) Also, for instance, my insurance will cover the appointment I made with my neurosurgeon this coming week; If, however, he again chooses not to operate at/by the end of the appointment, my insurance will still cover any costs associated with the time he spent with me. (Oh, how I wish I could contact them to put a “stop payment” on that check! I’m betting it would end-up in court, but it would be worth it all the more to me to get him on a TV court show, so people across this state & country know that this may be the one “-surgeon” out there who refuses to operate when any other neuro-guy whose own brain actually works can see the patient’s life depends on it!!)
That reminds me (I’ve long wished my neuro- people could tell me why my brain takes trips like this)… Once again (already said it on Twitter), happy (now-belated) brithday to Stan Freberg! In my mind, his name automatically makes me think of the old TV episode, “Monkee Vs. Machine”. I think of that now because it near-starts with still-performing Monkees Peter Tork & Mike Nesmith being (separately) interviewed for a job by a machine. When Peter asks why he can’t talk to a human, the machine goes into a long speech that I always recall ends with something about the use of a machine helping to lessen the possibility of “the human error”.
That is the main problem I was referring to about what the insurance does cover/pay for; We all (as the saying goes; I stopped doing this around my early ‘teens) give anyone with “Doctor” before their names such respect & trust, in addition to any financial gain they indirectly recieve from us. (It reminds me of an old “Law & Order: SVU” episode that includes a scripted piece spoken about trusting a respected doctor, a dramatic bit spoken by usually-comedic actor Robin Williams, who of course himself earned an Oscar playing… What else? A doctor; We all know Academy Awards haven’t given one to someone in a comedy in quite some time.)
For instance, whatever insurance(s) I had at the time no doubt paid for my now-inactive endocrinologist when I began seeing him after I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. (I’ve made absolutely no secret about my continued disbelief of this diagnosis, but have kept relatively quite about him lying to me about a medication he eventually put me on that wasn’t at the time FDA-approved for my age group, or how he eventually dropped me as a patient due to being unable to contact me while I was in an out-of-town hispital due to an infection caused by something that even a-decade-plus later could be easily traced back to him.)
Insurances have continued to pay for each endocrinologist I’ve seen, including the one who (again) dropped me as a patient because I (& a company associated with them) thought I was a good candidate for an insulin pump, & he had a personal issue with the objects/their manufacturers. They then paid for the one I saw in Pennsylvania, who I saw maybe twice (couldn’t pick her out of the proverbial lineup now), despite going to her office at least a half-dozen times. Keep following the sequence, & I can try to cut-&-paste the list of 5 endocrinologists’ names & addresses they E-mailed me this year, 1 of which was the man with the pump personal issue, & another 3 of which were the one who I’d been seeing for a while, until she had recently moved out-of-state, that relocation being the reason I had initially contacted them & asked them for the list.
OK; Even I’m tired of all that. (You wanna discuss insurance with me, then we both need to check our life-insurance policies, as it may take me a few years; I keep myself under controls where I don’t form opinions on shows-or-movies I haven’t seen, but I also tend to over-inform/over-think myself on things.) Let me get to the “AAA”.
When I refer to “AAA”, I’m not referring to the car service. (Never had a license in my life.) I’m also not referring to anything related to Alcoholics Anonymous. (No joke; Only ever had 1 alcoholic drink in my life, & was literally in rehab at the time.) I’m referring to right here, right now: “Always-Active August”.
That’s the way I can best, honestly explain why I’m up at a-quarter-to-6 on a Saturday morning, typing this blog while simultaneously wondering what I can do next when I’m finished. It’s also the best honest explanation for why I’m sitting here, waiting for my hair to dry from the shower I exited under an hour ago. Lastly, it’s the top reasoning for why I walked 30 uninterrupted “laps” of part of this apartment 2 hours ago…
Long story short (too little, too late for that maybe), some part of me is always thinking that I won’t be killed by any cold or other sickness I catch, any allergy I may have, or the neuro-, kidney, or heart issues I’ve been diagnosed with over the past few decades; I’m predicting I will be rolled “into my last shallow bed” (quoting a GREAT old Cory Branan song) due to something I may have now or get later, but without anyone being aware until I’m already “Goin’ Down” (Just-as-GREAT Monkees song). Therefore, being (as I actively consider myself) constantly aware that I am constantly unaware how much time I have left, I want to make sure I don’t waste a second of it.
The latest from me now? I have no clue of anything else I wanna type in this blog, nor any idea how to spend the next 9 minutes before new shows start on TV. (5:51 AM)
2014.8.19
OK; I’ve had that old “Confessions” song in my head so much lately (not even the “real” one by Usher, but the parody by “Weird Al” Yankovic) that I think it’s time I “release” a few confessions of my own.
First off? I’ve got a HUGE media collection…. Most of which I’ve never heard, watched, or any of that so-called “good stuff”. For instance, right now, the latest “Weird Al” CD is sitting next to my TV under my (smaller) “portable” CD-player, wherein the disc itself is honestly located. I bought the CD legal-&-honest (though I remain constantly curious about the location & actions of the former Internet-piracy man known as “Kim Dotcom”), but have probably listened to less than half of it, that being the earliest percentage, & all on the day I bought it. Before that, the player had 2 disc-cases under it: One the latest by the Old 97’s (I have yet to listen to all of that one either), & the other a disc they recorded years ago with country-music legend Waylon Jennings. (These were also bought cleanly, with the Amazon receipt atop my TV to prove it. I could literally reach either of those right this second from where I sit, which leaves me with no honest answer as to why neither has been played by me in literally weeks.)
My second & last (for now) confession, & the one that brings me to the point of this blog, is that I watch a lot of what is apparently “crap TV”. I say this largely because of the responses to online articles about the shows I watch, such as all the people angrily responding to the cancellation of “Crossbones” (I liked it, but am fine with it being over, as I also watch many series that are highly-rated, but have trouble filling a whole season’s-worth of episodes with believable, continuing storyline); Not to mention the fact that some shows I expect to love get dropped before they (in my opinion) get a chance to even make an attempt at such a thing. (I love watching “Person Of Interest” or “NCIS: Los Angeles”, which is the only reason I have yet to contact CBS about cancelling the once-started “NCIS: Red” & “Intelligence”, while still not thinking twice about doing 20 seasons of “Big Brother”. (One more confession, I guess: I first mis-typed that title as “Bog Brother”. I laughed at my mistake, until I was correcting it, & considered the possibility of a “Duck Dynasty” spinoff; Don’t say you weren’t warned.)
Anyhow, follow my steps here… One of the shows I tend to watch that many would probably avoid is called “Baggage”. Some might say it’s downright stupid of me to watch this particular show (wherein people competing to be selected for a date reveal less-desirable facts/traits about themselves) considering I myself have never even attempted to date someone (& I admit much of many days includes time spent laughing at ads for EHarmony &/or similar sites). But being that I average a day a week spent at the local Mall, & it was just a week ago I was at a doctor’s office where a man entered wearing a football jersey that literally touched his shoelaces, I see no harm in accessing the “perhaps-less-desirable-but-home-owning-&-job-holding” parts of society in this way. [I've long said the reason I've found watching these sorts of shows OK is some actress admitted to doing so in an interview with Jay Leno. Honestly, thinking that now reminds me how I never thought I would miss Jay Leno as host of the "Tonight Show"... I shall not miss Dave, but Jimmy Fallon hosting anything on a night Monday-through-Friday (let alone all of them), coupled with the approaching loss of Craig Ferguson, often leaves me sitting & watching "Baggage" episodes on my TV, curious about the possible side-effects of taking an additional one of my "anti-anxiety" pills, which I have usually taken as directed within the last 2 hours.]
As I was getting at, I was watching the show briefly tonight (first thing I thought of that was on when I turned-on my bedroom set), & one of the contestants revealed an interesting item on their “bucket list”. (Forget what it was right now.) When asked to explain it, they said they had long wondered what it would be like to do, & thought if they knew they were on the way out (terminal disease) or something, that would be something they’d like to be able to say they’d done.
This reminded me of an episode I’d watched last night of “Dog The Bounty Hunter”. (I sometimes find it hard to get to sleep after watching the weekend “Burn Notice” repeats, & “Dog”, like most characters on “Burn Notice”, often cracks a few jokes that lead my mind into more-rest-able areas.) The Chapmans caught a guy who had violated parole. After leading him back to the jail, “Dog” told the camera that he felt bad for the guy; On the one hand, the guy had done something he wasn’t supposed to, & needed to pay for that. On the other, “Dog” had learned on the way to turn the man in that he had terminal cancer, so part of him admittedly wished the guy could live with the people the Chapmans had found hiding him, as in jail, little would be up to him, & the disease he’d been diagnosed with outside of the legal issues might take him on the first day into what would likely be a relatively-small sentence.
Anyway, on to me….
I never saw “The Bucket List”, the movie. [I've purchased & watched my DVD of "Now You See Me", & like a bunch of Morgan Freeman movies, but Nicholson could never repay me for the part he played in the movie that attempted (albeit unsuccessfully) to destroy the Monkees over 40 years ago.] I’m not sure when, but I apparently did make one of my own. (Mom referenced it in a conversaton we had once, & I barely-but-honestly remember that.) Regardless, watching repeats of “NCIS: Los Angeles” a few hours ago reminded me that, largely-inspired by that show, one of the things I had put on a mental “bucket list” a few months back, & in fact hoped to accomplish by the end of 2014, was to learn & be licensed to legally carry-&-fire a gun. I then recalled I had planned to do it by this part of the year. While I haven’t taken even the first step (I don’t even know what that might be), I have several months left, which most firearm-carriers would probably tell you is plenty of time.
The only problem is, like that man captured by “Dog”, I’ve been diagnosed with a few incurable diseases (& believe myself to have several others my doctors have not given me positive-or-negative responses about)… So the number of days left on my cell-phone’s calendar & the number of days left on mine are no doubt very different.
–4:01 AM Finish
OK; I’ve had that old “Confessions” song in my head so much lately (not even the “real” one by Usher, but the parody by “Weird Al” Yankovic) that I think it’s time I “release” a few confessions of my own.
First off? I’ve got a HUGE media collection…. Most of which I’ve never heard, watched, or any of that so-called “good stuff”. For instance, right now, the latest “Weird Al” CD is sitting next to my TV under my (smaller) “portable” CD-player, wherein the disc itself is honestly located. I bought the CD legal-&-honest (though I remain constantly curious about the location & actions of the former Internet-piracy man known as “Kim Dotcom”), but have probably listened to less than half of it, that being the earliest percentage, & all on the day I bought it. Before that, the player had 2 disc-cases under it: One the latest by the Old 97’s (I have yet to listen to all of that one either), & the other a disc they recorded years ago with country-music legend Waylon Jennings. (These were also bought cleanly, with the Amazon receipt atop my TV to prove it. I could literally reach either of those right this second from where I sit, which leaves me with no honest answer as to why neither has been played by me in literally weeks.)
My second & last (for now) confession, & the one that brings me to the point of this blog, is that I watch a lot of what is apparently “crap TV”. I say this largely because of the responses to online articles about the shows I watch, such as all the people angrily responding to the cancellation of “Crossbones” (I liked it, but am fine with it being over, as I also watch many series that are highly-rated, but have trouble filling a whole season’s-worth of episodes with believable, continuing storyline); Not to mention the fact that some shows I expect to love get dropped before they (in my opinion) get a chance to even make an attempt at such a thing. (I love watching “Person Of Interest” or “NCIS: Los Angeles”, which is the only reason I have yet to contact CBS about cancelling the once-started “NCIS: Red” & “Intelligence”, while still not thinking twice about doing 20 seasons of “Big Brother”. (One more confession, I guess: I first mis-typed that title as “Bog Brother”. I laughed at my mistake, until I was correcting it, & considered the possibility of a “Duck Dynasty” spinoff; Don’t say you weren’t warned.)
Anyhow, follow my steps here… One of the shows I tend to watch that many would probably avoid is called “Baggage”. Some might say it’s downright stupid of me to watch this particular show (wherein people competing to be selected for a date reveal less-desirable facts/traits about themselves) considering I myself have never even attempted to date someone (& I admit much of many days includes time spent laughing at ads for EHarmony &/or similar sites). But being that I average a day a week spent at the local Mall, & it was just a week ago I was at a doctor’s office where a man entered wearing a football jersey that literally touched his shoelaces, I see no harm in accessing the “perhaps-less-desirable-but-home-owning-&-job-holding” parts of society in this way. [I've long said the reason I've found watching these sorts of shows OK is some actress admitted to doing so in an interview with Jay Leno. Honestly, thinking that now reminds me how I never thought I would miss Jay Leno as host of the "Tonight Show"... I shall not miss Dave, but Jimmy Fallon hosting anything on a night Monday-through-Friday (let alone all of them), coupled with the approaching loss of Craig Ferguson, often leaves me sitting & watching "Baggage" episodes on my TV, curious about the possible side-effects of taking an additional one of my "anti-anxiety" pills, which I have usually taken as directed within the last 2 hours.]
As I was getting at, I was watching the show briefly tonight (first thing I thought of that was on when I turned-on my bedroom set), & one of the contestants revealed an interesting item on their “bucket list”. (Forget what it was right now.) When asked to explain it, they said they had long wondered what it would be like to do, & thought if they knew they were on the way out (terminal disease) or something, that would be something they’d like to be able to say they’d done.
This reminded me of an episode I’d watched last night of “Dog The Bounty Hunter”. (I sometimes find it hard to get to sleep after watching the weekend “Burn Notice” repeats, & “Dog”, like most characters on “Burn Notice”, often cracks a few jokes that lead my mind into more-rest-able areas.) The Chapmans caught a guy who had violated parole. After leading him back to the jail, “Dog” told the camera that he felt bad for the guy; On the one hand, the guy had done something he wasn’t supposed to, & needed to pay for that. On the other, “Dog” had learned on the way to turn the man in that he had terminal cancer, so part of him admittedly wished the guy could live with the people the Chapmans had found hiding him, as in jail, little would be up to him, & the disease he’d been diagnosed with outside of the legal issues might take him on the first day into what would likely be a relatively-small sentence.
Anyway, on to me….
I never saw “The Bucket List”, the movie. [I've purchased & watched my DVD of "Now You See Me", & like a bunch of Morgan Freeman movies, but Nicholson could never repay me for the part he played in the movie that attempted (albeit unsuccessfully) to destroy the Monkees over 40 years ago.] I’m not sure when, but I apparently did make one of my own. (Mom referenced it in a conversaton we had once, & I barely-but-honestly remember that.) Regardless, watching repeats of “NCIS: Los Angeles” a few hours ago reminded me that, largely-inspired by that show, one of the things I had put on a mental “bucket list” a few months back, & in fact hoped to accomplish by the end of 2014, was to learn & be licensed to legally carry-&-fire a gun. I then recalled I had planned to do it by this part of the year. While I haven’t taken even the first step (I don’t even know what that might be), I have several months left, which most firearm-carriers would probably tell you is plenty of time.
The only problem is, like that man captured by “Dog”, I’ve been diagnosed with a few incurable diseases (& believe myself to have several others my doctors have not given me positive-or-negative responses about)… So the number of days left on my cell-phone’s calendar & the number of days left on mine are no doubt very different.
–4:01 AM Finish
2014.8.21
OK… I really try not to blog more than once-a-week, but I’ve been trying to average that for over a year, & know I missed a few, so excuse the fact that this one’s coming when it is.
Excuse me also if I’m asking you to excuse too much, but excuse me for a minute while I allow myself to exert a bit of an ego. (I’ve broken my jaw & right foot in different years, & my knees have cracked for literally decades, so I hope this doesn’t hurt like those do.)…
I’m a 3-time school-spelling-bee Champion who has also been in contact with a few publishing companies spread across the contiguous United States. I’ve also been printed in the newspaper a few times. That said, it’s not ego but honesty that requires me to admit I haven’t taken an actual class at an actual school in over a dozen years.
You want to know why I’m bringing all of this up?! It’s because I went on a trip into Pennsylvania with my Dad today. That’s nothing special; I went on a trip with Dad under 2 months ago, & a-year-or-so ago, I had a “specialist” doctor I was seeing multiple times a year (maybe not specifically, but someone in the same building) at her offices in Pennsylvania…
….OK; Back to honesty. That doc is one of the specific reasons I am writing this. That “specialist” was seen for a disease regular readers of my blog (or members of my family) know I’ve never believed I had, & that has also been true for over a decade, since long before I saw that particular person (or anyone in that building).
I haven’t gone to that building in over 6 months, & don’t expect to ever go back, even if it was proven some day this month that I actually have that particular disease… The reason being that (due technically to nothing I did) I saw a “specialist” in the same area much closer to where I live. In the past 6-weeks-or-so, that person has left the area, & my insurance-coverage has changed, so the latter is currently trying to connect me to one of the former that is in their/our “plan”.
Often the last few weeks, my mind has been hit not with a statement, but a question: Do I owe it to that company & their employers to make their lives easier if I can? I mean this 200% seriously, in that I’m seriously thinking about it, & I seriously want an answer if you have it. I love my nephews & niece, & sometimes we (mostly Mom; I sleep at weird hours) watch them here when my sister goes to a doctor. I don’t have, want, or need that type of doctor due to obvious anatomical differences between my sister & I. My point being I may not need a new one of these “specialist” folks at all if it turns-out I’ve been the correct minority all along, & I’ve never actually had this particular disease. No doubt I would call the insurance tomorrow (well, in about 10 hours) & tell them if I knew that to be the case, but the fact is I don’t, neither do they, & I feel just as sure that neither of us know a way to definitively prove one way or the other.
That’s where this all ties into the trip I took with Dad. We were listening to his car radio, which has that “XM” satellite deal. One of the ads I heard was for a show that claimed it had recently been discussing “back-to-school”. That makes total sense to anyone if they look at the calendar. What makes less sense (to me, anyway) is that one of my cousins is getting started on “home-schooling” their children… But what seems to me as being at the top (or rather bottom) of the “sensibility” list is that my sister is getting ready to “home-school” my eldest nephew, who already passed Kindergarten & First Grade in the same school seemingly filled with kids not related to him in any way that she & I passed those same grades.
I have said for decades (aloud & in print) that my sister is very intelligent. She’d agree in a proverbial split-second that I outdo her in my recall of certain subjects, but that works both ways. One subject they never taught either of us in school is what’s well-known as “common sense” (I refuse to call it that). I can guarantee you the 2 of us disagree on which of us knows more of this, & her choice to take him away from the public schools she started him in would be my “Exhibit A”.
As I already typed, she’s incredibly smart… But the problem with her teaching anyone (that would also be true about me, my doctors, the people who assisted &/or taught my doctors, or my best friend, who literally worked for “Teach For America” last I knew) is they can only teach you what they know. Much less has happened in the 14-years-or-so since she graduated than did in the prior 100+ of this country (let alone the world), but think about this: If, on the day she’s teaching him the names of the planets, she briefly forgets that Pluto was knocked off the list, he potentially spends the next quarter-century believing he knows something that isn’t really true…
…Likewise, if the first “specialist” doctor I saw because of my diagnosed Diabetes (who, ironically, doesn’t “practice” medicine anymore, & whose offices were located down the street from the alma mater of myself, my sister, & the aforementioned best-friend-turned-teacher) was seeing me due to a diagnosis that it turns-out (tomorrow, next month, or in another decade when I’m cryogenically unfrozen) was incorrect (not on purpose, but due to some un-name-able person making a diagnosis due to a mistake out of their control), then it makes no difference then (I’ll potentially have died already), but now, I may as well get one of those tattoos I recently re-discovered notes about me considering, as sticking needles into my skin with no real purpose is part of my personal history.
Finish @ 2:01 AM
OK… I really try not to blog more than once-a-week, but I’ve been trying to average that for over a year, & know I missed a few, so excuse the fact that this one’s coming when it is.
Excuse me also if I’m asking you to excuse too much, but excuse me for a minute while I allow myself to exert a bit of an ego. (I’ve broken my jaw & right foot in different years, & my knees have cracked for literally decades, so I hope this doesn’t hurt like those do.)…
I’m a 3-time school-spelling-bee Champion who has also been in contact with a few publishing companies spread across the contiguous United States. I’ve also been printed in the newspaper a few times. That said, it’s not ego but honesty that requires me to admit I haven’t taken an actual class at an actual school in over a dozen years.
You want to know why I’m bringing all of this up?! It’s because I went on a trip into Pennsylvania with my Dad today. That’s nothing special; I went on a trip with Dad under 2 months ago, & a-year-or-so ago, I had a “specialist” doctor I was seeing multiple times a year (maybe not specifically, but someone in the same building) at her offices in Pennsylvania…
….OK; Back to honesty. That doc is one of the specific reasons I am writing this. That “specialist” was seen for a disease regular readers of my blog (or members of my family) know I’ve never believed I had, & that has also been true for over a decade, since long before I saw that particular person (or anyone in that building).
I haven’t gone to that building in over 6 months, & don’t expect to ever go back, even if it was proven some day this month that I actually have that particular disease… The reason being that (due technically to nothing I did) I saw a “specialist” in the same area much closer to where I live. In the past 6-weeks-or-so, that person has left the area, & my insurance-coverage has changed, so the latter is currently trying to connect me to one of the former that is in their/our “plan”.
Often the last few weeks, my mind has been hit not with a statement, but a question: Do I owe it to that company & their employers to make their lives easier if I can? I mean this 200% seriously, in that I’m seriously thinking about it, & I seriously want an answer if you have it. I love my nephews & niece, & sometimes we (mostly Mom; I sleep at weird hours) watch them here when my sister goes to a doctor. I don’t have, want, or need that type of doctor due to obvious anatomical differences between my sister & I. My point being I may not need a new one of these “specialist” folks at all if it turns-out I’ve been the correct minority all along, & I’ve never actually had this particular disease. No doubt I would call the insurance tomorrow (well, in about 10 hours) & tell them if I knew that to be the case, but the fact is I don’t, neither do they, & I feel just as sure that neither of us know a way to definitively prove one way or the other.
That’s where this all ties into the trip I took with Dad. We were listening to his car radio, which has that “XM” satellite deal. One of the ads I heard was for a show that claimed it had recently been discussing “back-to-school”. That makes total sense to anyone if they look at the calendar. What makes less sense (to me, anyway) is that one of my cousins is getting started on “home-schooling” their children… But what seems to me as being at the top (or rather bottom) of the “sensibility” list is that my sister is getting ready to “home-school” my eldest nephew, who already passed Kindergarten & First Grade in the same school seemingly filled with kids not related to him in any way that she & I passed those same grades.
I have said for decades (aloud & in print) that my sister is very intelligent. She’d agree in a proverbial split-second that I outdo her in my recall of certain subjects, but that works both ways. One subject they never taught either of us in school is what’s well-known as “common sense” (I refuse to call it that). I can guarantee you the 2 of us disagree on which of us knows more of this, & her choice to take him away from the public schools she started him in would be my “Exhibit A”.
As I already typed, she’s incredibly smart… But the problem with her teaching anyone (that would also be true about me, my doctors, the people who assisted &/or taught my doctors, or my best friend, who literally worked for “Teach For America” last I knew) is they can only teach you what they know. Much less has happened in the 14-years-or-so since she graduated than did in the prior 100+ of this country (let alone the world), but think about this: If, on the day she’s teaching him the names of the planets, she briefly forgets that Pluto was knocked off the list, he potentially spends the next quarter-century believing he knows something that isn’t really true…
…Likewise, if the first “specialist” doctor I saw because of my diagnosed Diabetes (who, ironically, doesn’t “practice” medicine anymore, & whose offices were located down the street from the alma mater of myself, my sister, & the aforementioned best-friend-turned-teacher) was seeing me due to a diagnosis that it turns-out (tomorrow, next month, or in another decade when I’m cryogenically unfrozen) was incorrect (not on purpose, but due to some un-name-able person making a diagnosis due to a mistake out of their control), then it makes no difference then (I’ll potentially have died already), but now, I may as well get one of those tattoos I recently re-discovered notes about me considering, as sticking needles into my skin with no real purpose is part of my personal history.
Finish @ 2:01 AM
2014.8.29
OK; I like to break from the norm a lot (not to mention everyone from my grandfather to my younger nephew has heard me say that “‘normal’ is a relative term”), so let me do that here one (more?) time, by starting my blog with an interactive section. Ready? Everybody now…
“Thirty days has September, April, June, & November. All the rest have thirty-one…”
Were you with me on all of that?! (I honestly know it has more, but I’m not sure exactly how it goes; I started-out learning it as something about “February” having “twenty-nine alone”, but a junior-high Spelling/Writing teacher gave us a sheet to copy once in class that had the whole thing ending in something about the month having “twenty-eight in fine, ’til Leap Year gives it twenty-nine”.)
Anyhow, I just wanted to start with that to show why this has always been the easiest month for me… As far as knowing when it ends. I would claim to not be “OCD” (to me, it ranks right up there with murders on the “Who would have/do it & admit to it it?!” list), but I do keep a pile of appointment cards right behind where I’m sitting that has the cards for my doctors’ appointments in chronological order. (No joke: I had a very-easy appointment yesterday morning, during all of which I carried that appointment’s card in my pocket. I came home, threw it in the nearby trash, & placed the card for the next appointment with that doctor in the right place in the pile, above the card for the next appointment I’d made with my eye doctor at the start of this week.)
But regardless, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months will end. My Aunt, it seemed, had decided earlier this year to actively count-down the days left in Winter, including the number in several E-mails to my mother… However, I have spent 90% of my life in the state of Ohio, which has spent more than that whole time neighboring Pennsylvania, not to mention owning “Groundhog Day” on DVD…. All of which is to say why I don’t believe there is any proper way to count when a season (or, necessarily, a month) will end. (My best friend, I recall, used to tell me stories about a Summer we had growing-up with a lot of rain… I don’t have a clue if he was remembering that time right, or what one he said it was… But I also sit here now owning 0 pairs of sunglasses that fit, largely because I am constantly “keeping my options open” for snow in this month of August.)
Regardless, as I said, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months start or end… As I said, that’s “easy for (me) to say” when I keep a chronological-order pile of appointment cards, as well as the simple fact that most doctors call you at least a day before your appointment to remind you. (The other side, of course, is that most cards & calls say to give 24-hours notice if you have to cancel/reschedule. I actually had a doc’s office call earlier this year to reschedule within 5 hours of the appointment on the same day; Why does the AMA not allow me to charge him or his insurance for all the time I wasted prior thinking about that appointment?!)
For the third time (I wonder what, if any, “charm” that will bring me or this blog), I write that I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months end. As Everclear sang years ago, “You believe what you wanna believe…”, but I’m telling you in my case that has nothing to do with the Summer/better weather ending, or football season starting (for my Steelers or my alma mater); As you’re probably betting if you read my blog all that often, it’s got more to do with my life.
When I was home from my appointment yesterday afternoon, I looked at the new top card on the list. (Yes, I admittedly have considered watching them “fight it out” for the position, as in so many books I’ve read & movies I’ve seen, but unlike the recent “Lego movie”, it has yet to happen.) The date for that one reads, “9-30″. I asked Mom how that was possible, since my watch told me yesterday was the 27th (meaning the 30th fell on/in a weekend), & she said the appointment “might be for September”. (As I told a nurse at tests I had on Wednesday, I’ve lost watches at a few appointments, hospitals, & things; I never gave thought to needing any more than the day/date on the screen when replacing them.) I figured that was the case, mentally-checked to see if that was a weekday, & moved on.
Thinking about that again this afternoon, I realized the weekend is mine… Not only that (that’s the case a lot), but most of the month of September is mine; Not only do I not have an appointment for 4 weeks, but it appears (if TVLine.com is any indication) many TV shows don’t return until that same week! Many in my position, such as my Dad & any other relatives who still work, might be celebrating that…
…Which comes back to my long-held belief of “normal” being a relative term. (I admittedly think that a lot as a movie “tag line”, for something like, “‘Normal’ is a relative term…. Unless you have THESE relatives.”) I have never worked (well, in actuality, I worked for a company, but they left town a while back, & didn’t pay me in 20 years), so a lot of my time is mine. (I tend to think my medical history & related appointments, etc., are worth the highest “minimum wages” internationally, as I read about in a recent Rolling Stone article.) However, if you’ve been reading my blogs recently, you’ll realize I believe my time is limited. (When making new appointments, I am less-curious if I have another one already made for that day than if I won’t already be in the local morgue at that hour.)
That is to say (entirely-honestly) that I even break away from what is “normal” for me. For instance, yesterday, I went to my older nephew’s soccer game. Even though the sun was out & it’d been perfectly-warm when I was out that morning, I took my jacket out to the playing surface with me, reminding Mom “I’m a ‘have it & not need it’ type of guy”. That said, I’ve become less of one in many recent instances; While many people might describe themselves that way, I already have 2 phone calls I plan to make next week: One is to my eye doctor, asking to be reminded what kind of compresses (cold/warm) he suggested I use on my eyes this past Monday. The other is to the local “Regional Airport”, to see if they can put me in contact with someone who could help me schedule a skydiving trip…
…Again, I am being entirely honest. When I was only slightly older than my older nephew is now, I admitted to being “afraid of heights” (even indoors), a statement I maintained was true until earlier this month. However, I am currently awaiting results of tests I had about 52 hours ago (paperwork said I’d get them at the next appointment), & honestly wondering if I’ll literally live to see that next appointment. Don’t get me wrong: As I told my Dad at something we went to last week, I believe I’m taking care of any-&-all medical problems I’ve been told I have as best I can. I’m just curious if I don’t (& honestly believing I do) have some problems my doctors have not IDed (or even been made-aware of themselves) yet.
To paraphrase myself here, the “options (& the odds) are open” that I have one of the thousands I’ve never had discussed/tested-for… What good is giving me the results in 6 weeks if I only live to see the next 4?!
Well, I gotta go for now; Ma brought Lunch home, & we all know I’m alive now, so it’d probably be better if I had some energy (& checked my blood-sugar numbers) for the next couple of hours.
OK; I like to break from the norm a lot (not to mention everyone from my grandfather to my younger nephew has heard me say that “‘normal’ is a relative term”), so let me do that here one (more?) time, by starting my blog with an interactive section. Ready? Everybody now…
“Thirty days has September, April, June, & November. All the rest have thirty-one…”
Were you with me on all of that?! (I honestly know it has more, but I’m not sure exactly how it goes; I started-out learning it as something about “February” having “twenty-nine alone”, but a junior-high Spelling/Writing teacher gave us a sheet to copy once in class that had the whole thing ending in something about the month having “twenty-eight in fine, ’til Leap Year gives it twenty-nine”.)
Anyhow, I just wanted to start with that to show why this has always been the easiest month for me… As far as knowing when it ends. I would claim to not be “OCD” (to me, it ranks right up there with murders on the “Who would have/do it & admit to it it?!” list), but I do keep a pile of appointment cards right behind where I’m sitting that has the cards for my doctors’ appointments in chronological order. (No joke: I had a very-easy appointment yesterday morning, during all of which I carried that appointment’s card in my pocket. I came home, threw it in the nearby trash, & placed the card for the next appointment with that doctor in the right place in the pile, above the card for the next appointment I’d made with my eye doctor at the start of this week.)
But regardless, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months will end. My Aunt, it seemed, had decided earlier this year to actively count-down the days left in Winter, including the number in several E-mails to my mother… However, I have spent 90% of my life in the state of Ohio, which has spent more than that whole time neighboring Pennsylvania, not to mention owning “Groundhog Day” on DVD…. All of which is to say why I don’t believe there is any proper way to count when a season (or, necessarily, a month) will end. (My best friend, I recall, used to tell me stories about a Summer we had growing-up with a lot of rain… I don’t have a clue if he was remembering that time right, or what one he said it was… But I also sit here now owning 0 pairs of sunglasses that fit, largely because I am constantly “keeping my options open” for snow in this month of August.)
Regardless, as I said, I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months start or end… As I said, that’s “easy for (me) to say” when I keep a chronological-order pile of appointment cards, as well as the simple fact that most doctors call you at least a day before your appointment to remind you. (The other side, of course, is that most cards & calls say to give 24-hours notice if you have to cancel/reschedule. I actually had a doc’s office call earlier this year to reschedule within 5 hours of the appointment on the same day; Why does the AMA not allow me to charge him or his insurance for all the time I wasted prior thinking about that appointment?!)
For the third time (I wonder what, if any, “charm” that will bring me or this blog), I write that I don’t pay a lot of attention to when months end. As Everclear sang years ago, “You believe what you wanna believe…”, but I’m telling you in my case that has nothing to do with the Summer/better weather ending, or football season starting (for my Steelers or my alma mater); As you’re probably betting if you read my blog all that often, it’s got more to do with my life.
When I was home from my appointment yesterday afternoon, I looked at the new top card on the list. (Yes, I admittedly have considered watching them “fight it out” for the position, as in so many books I’ve read & movies I’ve seen, but unlike the recent “Lego movie”, it has yet to happen.) The date for that one reads, “9-30″. I asked Mom how that was possible, since my watch told me yesterday was the 27th (meaning the 30th fell on/in a weekend), & she said the appointment “might be for September”. (As I told a nurse at tests I had on Wednesday, I’ve lost watches at a few appointments, hospitals, & things; I never gave thought to needing any more than the day/date on the screen when replacing them.) I figured that was the case, mentally-checked to see if that was a weekday, & moved on.
Thinking about that again this afternoon, I realized the weekend is mine… Not only that (that’s the case a lot), but most of the month of September is mine; Not only do I not have an appointment for 4 weeks, but it appears (if TVLine.com is any indication) many TV shows don’t return until that same week! Many in my position, such as my Dad & any other relatives who still work, might be celebrating that…
…Which comes back to my long-held belief of “normal” being a relative term. (I admittedly think that a lot as a movie “tag line”, for something like, “‘Normal’ is a relative term…. Unless you have THESE relatives.”) I have never worked (well, in actuality, I worked for a company, but they left town a while back, & didn’t pay me in 20 years), so a lot of my time is mine. (I tend to think my medical history & related appointments, etc., are worth the highest “minimum wages” internationally, as I read about in a recent Rolling Stone article.) However, if you’ve been reading my blogs recently, you’ll realize I believe my time is limited. (When making new appointments, I am less-curious if I have another one already made for that day than if I won’t already be in the local morgue at that hour.)
That is to say (entirely-honestly) that I even break away from what is “normal” for me. For instance, yesterday, I went to my older nephew’s soccer game. Even though the sun was out & it’d been perfectly-warm when I was out that morning, I took my jacket out to the playing surface with me, reminding Mom “I’m a ‘have it & not need it’ type of guy”. That said, I’ve become less of one in many recent instances; While many people might describe themselves that way, I already have 2 phone calls I plan to make next week: One is to my eye doctor, asking to be reminded what kind of compresses (cold/warm) he suggested I use on my eyes this past Monday. The other is to the local “Regional Airport”, to see if they can put me in contact with someone who could help me schedule a skydiving trip…
…Again, I am being entirely honest. When I was only slightly older than my older nephew is now, I admitted to being “afraid of heights” (even indoors), a statement I maintained was true until earlier this month. However, I am currently awaiting results of tests I had about 52 hours ago (paperwork said I’d get them at the next appointment), & honestly wondering if I’ll literally live to see that next appointment. Don’t get me wrong: As I told my Dad at something we went to last week, I believe I’m taking care of any-&-all medical problems I’ve been told I have as best I can. I’m just curious if I don’t (& honestly believing I do) have some problems my doctors have not IDed (or even been made-aware of themselves) yet.
To paraphrase myself here, the “options (& the odds) are open” that I have one of the thousands I’ve never had discussed/tested-for… What good is giving me the results in 6 weeks if I only live to see the next 4?!
Well, I gotta go for now; Ma brought Lunch home, & we all know I’m alive now, so it’d probably be better if I had some energy (& checked my blood-sugar numbers) for the next couple of hours.
2014.9.3
I’m admittedly embarrassed how regular this is becoming for me, but I feel the need to start this blog with some confessions.
1] I wrote the beginning of the last blog (about the “30 days…” & all that) thinking it was this month. The truth is I have trouble remembering when August ends, which I think itself is proven in the fact I didn’t know at the time it hadn’t ended yet. (My sister’s birthday is in August, & her eldest son’s in September, which I think is the work of her, some deity, or both, to just continue to mess with me for an undetermined number of future years.)
2] I have problems with my hearing aid.
It is Number 2 that I admit was not in the original draft of this blog, but which I instead feel the need to concentrate a bit on now…
The first problem is that it is indeed a “hearing aid” in both the good & bad meanings of the phrase… Yes, I heard everything my sister said to me at my nephew’s soccer game yesterday, but I also heard whistles being blown due to the events of a half-dozen neighboring games; I took my camera along in my pocket, hoping to perhaps get an “action shot” of my nephew, but found no time to do so, as it seems a bit ironic his best action moments were often when I’d put my camera back in my pocket due to thinking the game paused after a whistle-blow (which I learned had actually happened in another game).
The second problem is that I was given (& took) the option of having one with a volume-control on it. However, when you increase the volume of nearby relatives, you also increase the volume of everyone else at the game/at the burger joint/in the county. (It also has the noise-eliminator switch; But I can never remember if that’s in the “On” or “Off” position, & attempting to correct hitting it by mistake resets both of these functions, making it a pain in my ear & my rear simultaneously.)
Regardless, one final admission for this blog, one to be included today because it only happened about 4 hours ago: I remove the aid from my ear… I do this when I hear TV & other people fine, when I prefer to lay on my bed/couch while watching TV, or when I just don’t want to hear what you have to say.
It is the last one that happened most-recently. I initially regretted asking my audiologist for the volume-control on my aid, realizing that most of my family talks either incessantly or not at all. (We all have cell phones & wireless “mice”, I think each largely due to this knowledge about ourselves.) This meant that by the time I decided if what someone was saying was something I wished to hear or not, it would’ve reached a point of “Might as well just get this over with now.” (Honestly the same attitude I had partway through my MRI a week ago, during which I wore no hearing aid or headphones, meaning it caused the 2 simultaneous pains I mentioned earlier.)
Anyhow, today I slowly (so my elder parent & neurologist could/would notice) removed the aid from my ear & the battery from the aid, before placing both in my back pocket. While I considered it (honestly) more times than I can recall/could count, I never went through with the step of exiting the “exam room” while my Mom & the “doctor” (I have voiced to the former my doubts that the latter even graduated high school) talked.
“WHY?!”, you may ask. I did the Math (literally) in the time it took me to exhale, & the answer goes back about half-my-life ago. Both parents came with me to a doctor’s appointment. Being that it was my first (&, as I recall now, only ever) appointment with that person, it didn’t bother me at all when the first bunch of questions went to my parents, as they were literally about my first year-or-so of life.
However, while I admit to the fact/idea that I “live improv” (to the point my aforementioned nephew sometimes says it at the same time I do), Mom is what was once termed a “creature of habit” (to the point you could cryogenically freeze her in the middle of making her Breakfast tomorrow, & when you thaw her in 50 years, she’ll continue making that same bowl of Cheerios as if the only time that passed was her waiting for someone to finish leaving a message on the answering machine).
PLEASE, don’t get me wrong; I’ve known both/each of these “statii” a while. (I remain unaware of the proper plural.) What I’d failed to recognize was the ability it/they had to make me pay later…
You see, while my tendency to “improv(ise)” seems to often find me with a memory well-stocked with past experiences & more-school-based knowledge (both of which the tendency would by definition view as useless/pointless), Mom’s “present-based-on-past” way of living seems to leave little-if-any room for new knowledge. What I mean by this is she seems to often remember things that (in the case of me , anyway) happened decades ago as if they were yesterday, & also remember things that happened the prior day or week in ways they never actually happened.
That wouldn’t bother me at all, except that I once again find myself relying on her in many situations, ones that I’m hypothetically betting will prove important somewhat-later in my life. As I believe I mentioned in a recent blog, I’m not feeling all that great overall, so I’m basically aiming to live…Well that’s honestly it; To coin the phrase once made famous by The Script &/or Kris Allen, “Live without dying”. For example, yesterday, I grabbed 2 cans of “Beanee Weenees” off the shelf at the Dollar General Market, & while putting them in my cart, said (admittedly right out loud), “SCORE!!” (This is also the reason I’m trying to see as much of as many of my nephew’s soccer games as I ca, though the fields seem to have maintained the ability to “mud up” that they had when my best friend played there almost a quarter-century.)
Yesterday was a meeting with a representative from my new-this-year insurance, & today was a meeting with my most-recent neurologist, brother of my never-operated-on-me neurosurgeon. [I feel it needs noting the latter sent me to the former previously, who then put me at different times on 2 different anti-seizure medications, each of which literally reached my house, at which time we saw they had warnings related to not taking them if you had medical issues I had… Needless to say, the “-surgeon” put me on a different one, saying he wouldn’t ever operate on me unless I took it; I have for a year, & still no operation, which I personally feel (as the person living through each day’s problems) is an inevitable necessity.]
Anyhow, not only am I trying to have as many positive experiences as I can control, but I am (to be blunt) purposefully forgetting many of the seizures & other oft-occurring problems of each week… Which is why I take Mom into the rooms with me, hoping she’ll recall them… But it is ironically only this action that leads me to learn she is recalling them incorrectly. (The fact is, legal adult & first-person experience-er or not, I can shake my head all I want, but since I admittedly have little-if-any recall of how a specific instance did happen, any attempt at correction or talking over her would only leave me in a potentially-worse situation.)
I’m admittedly embarrassed how regular this is becoming for me, but I feel the need to start this blog with some confessions.
1] I wrote the beginning of the last blog (about the “30 days…” & all that) thinking it was this month. The truth is I have trouble remembering when August ends, which I think itself is proven in the fact I didn’t know at the time it hadn’t ended yet. (My sister’s birthday is in August, & her eldest son’s in September, which I think is the work of her, some deity, or both, to just continue to mess with me for an undetermined number of future years.)
2] I have problems with my hearing aid.
It is Number 2 that I admit was not in the original draft of this blog, but which I instead feel the need to concentrate a bit on now…
The first problem is that it is indeed a “hearing aid” in both the good & bad meanings of the phrase… Yes, I heard everything my sister said to me at my nephew’s soccer game yesterday, but I also heard whistles being blown due to the events of a half-dozen neighboring games; I took my camera along in my pocket, hoping to perhaps get an “action shot” of my nephew, but found no time to do so, as it seems a bit ironic his best action moments were often when I’d put my camera back in my pocket due to thinking the game paused after a whistle-blow (which I learned had actually happened in another game).
The second problem is that I was given (& took) the option of having one with a volume-control on it. However, when you increase the volume of nearby relatives, you also increase the volume of everyone else at the game/at the burger joint/in the county. (It also has the noise-eliminator switch; But I can never remember if that’s in the “On” or “Off” position, & attempting to correct hitting it by mistake resets both of these functions, making it a pain in my ear & my rear simultaneously.)
Regardless, one final admission for this blog, one to be included today because it only happened about 4 hours ago: I remove the aid from my ear… I do this when I hear TV & other people fine, when I prefer to lay on my bed/couch while watching TV, or when I just don’t want to hear what you have to say.
It is the last one that happened most-recently. I initially regretted asking my audiologist for the volume-control on my aid, realizing that most of my family talks either incessantly or not at all. (We all have cell phones & wireless “mice”, I think each largely due to this knowledge about ourselves.) This meant that by the time I decided if what someone was saying was something I wished to hear or not, it would’ve reached a point of “Might as well just get this over with now.” (Honestly the same attitude I had partway through my MRI a week ago, during which I wore no hearing aid or headphones, meaning it caused the 2 simultaneous pains I mentioned earlier.)
Anyhow, today I slowly (so my elder parent & neurologist could/would notice) removed the aid from my ear & the battery from the aid, before placing both in my back pocket. While I considered it (honestly) more times than I can recall/could count, I never went through with the step of exiting the “exam room” while my Mom & the “doctor” (I have voiced to the former my doubts that the latter even graduated high school) talked.
“WHY?!”, you may ask. I did the Math (literally) in the time it took me to exhale, & the answer goes back about half-my-life ago. Both parents came with me to a doctor’s appointment. Being that it was my first (&, as I recall now, only ever) appointment with that person, it didn’t bother me at all when the first bunch of questions went to my parents, as they were literally about my first year-or-so of life.
However, while I admit to the fact/idea that I “live improv” (to the point my aforementioned nephew sometimes says it at the same time I do), Mom is what was once termed a “creature of habit” (to the point you could cryogenically freeze her in the middle of making her Breakfast tomorrow, & when you thaw her in 50 years, she’ll continue making that same bowl of Cheerios as if the only time that passed was her waiting for someone to finish leaving a message on the answering machine).
PLEASE, don’t get me wrong; I’ve known both/each of these “statii” a while. (I remain unaware of the proper plural.) What I’d failed to recognize was the ability it/they had to make me pay later…
You see, while my tendency to “improv(ise)” seems to often find me with a memory well-stocked with past experiences & more-school-based knowledge (both of which the tendency would by definition view as useless/pointless), Mom’s “present-based-on-past” way of living seems to leave little-if-any room for new knowledge. What I mean by this is she seems to often remember things that (in the case of me , anyway) happened decades ago as if they were yesterday, & also remember things that happened the prior day or week in ways they never actually happened.
That wouldn’t bother me at all, except that I once again find myself relying on her in many situations, ones that I’m hypothetically betting will prove important somewhat-later in my life. As I believe I mentioned in a recent blog, I’m not feeling all that great overall, so I’m basically aiming to live…Well that’s honestly it; To coin the phrase once made famous by The Script &/or Kris Allen, “Live without dying”. For example, yesterday, I grabbed 2 cans of “Beanee Weenees” off the shelf at the Dollar General Market, & while putting them in my cart, said (admittedly right out loud), “SCORE!!” (This is also the reason I’m trying to see as much of as many of my nephew’s soccer games as I ca, though the fields seem to have maintained the ability to “mud up” that they had when my best friend played there almost a quarter-century.)
Yesterday was a meeting with a representative from my new-this-year insurance, & today was a meeting with my most-recent neurologist, brother of my never-operated-on-me neurosurgeon. [I feel it needs noting the latter sent me to the former previously, who then put me at different times on 2 different anti-seizure medications, each of which literally reached my house, at which time we saw they had warnings related to not taking them if you had medical issues I had… Needless to say, the “-surgeon” put me on a different one, saying he wouldn’t ever operate on me unless I took it; I have for a year, & still no operation, which I personally feel (as the person living through each day’s problems) is an inevitable necessity.]
Anyhow, not only am I trying to have as many positive experiences as I can control, but I am (to be blunt) purposefully forgetting many of the seizures & other oft-occurring problems of each week… Which is why I take Mom into the rooms with me, hoping she’ll recall them… But it is ironically only this action that leads me to learn she is recalling them incorrectly. (The fact is, legal adult & first-person experience-er or not, I can shake my head all I want, but since I admittedly have little-if-any recall of how a specific instance did happen, any attempt at correction or talking over her would only leave me in a potentially-worse situation.)
shirley wilmoth says:
Tim, improv or not, it is rude to remove your hearing aid- especially in a slow and purposeful way- when a professional with whom you have requested an appointment, is speaking. It is rude to speak of your mother in such a manner as you have. You have more to consider this evening than whether or not you will take a prescribed med or attend another nephew soccer game. Your mother , by the way, is sharing her computer with you so that you can write in this manner about her.
September 3, 2014 at 9:49 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley,
1] I never asked for an appointment with this guy… Not the first group of times I saw him nor this one; In both cases, I was tossed to him by his brother. (Mom commented later today that the waiting room had been largely empty, & I said I thought it was because the neurosurgeon was at the Youngstown office where I had those tests done last Wednesday, a day when I had physically seen the -surgeon there.)
2] While we both know I’ve never worked a paying job at all, removing the aid is not “slow” at all; I suppose if the need presented itself, I could do it blindfolded, & probably also in under 10 seconds.
3] I may not have told you before, but I’m often a fan of irony, so I’m debating right now whether-or-not I choose to enjoy the fact Mom’s twin doesn’t know how she “say(s) 1 thing & do(es) another” (to quote Aerosmith), “talks out both sides of her mouth” (to use the popular phrase), &/or (simply-put) “is 2-faced”. (Got mail today that says she’s got a vocal-guitar performance coming-up; Let me know if she gets scheduled to sing a duet by herself, ‘cuz THAT I wanna hear/see!)
September 4, 2014 at 12:02 AM
Pinerun says:
When you agreed to see the dr on his brother’s recommendation, you then chose to see him. No one forced you there by either a rope or a chain. If you don’t want to see a dr, don’t waste his time or the taxpayers money by going.
If you reread the blog that you wrote, you said that “I slowly removed my hearing aid from my ear”. So Shirley was right, you did write that! It was disrespectful t
We ALL know you have never worked a paying job. You remind us of that every chance you get. My cousin has a son who is deaf and has Down’s syndrome, he went away to school and is proud to tell anyone that he has a job and goes to work daily to earn a paycheck.
You like to think that you live improv, but you don’t really. You went to some classes many years ago, but not recently. You ask people frequently for suggestions on twitter as to what to with your up filled days. And you live with a stack of appointment cards in chronological order.
That was rude to comment to Shirley like that. She loves you and cares for you.
When writing, pick a word and use it. Using slashes and multiple words is improper grammar.
I know you will respond to this, because you always have to have the last word. After that you unfriend, or unfollow so there are no further replies and you are sure to have the last word!
September 4, 2014 at 12:11 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Nobody forced me there by rope or chain, but when a surgeon says he won’t operate on you “unless you…” (as Brian Brocker has done at least twice now), & you know that an operation is the only way to fix problems (I don’t argue with you on pregnancies, so you don’t argue with me on neurology), you do it.
I never said I didn’t write that; Simply that it doesn’t always take the time she was assuming. Reread what we each wrote, & maybe finish writing your own sentences while you’re at it.
I remind you of my lack of paying work for the same reason your cousin’s son (“Six Degrees Of I Couldn’t Care Less”) reminds you that he has it: My “sugar stuff” (strips, etc.) & shunt are clearly visible to anyone when I am out (Sunday Lunches or anywhere I eat tomorrow), so any job I would even apply for would have to be added to all the work & other things that the misdiagnosis already places on my schedule.
I only went to one improv class (at Y’town Playhouse), & learned nothing knew. (By definition, teaching it cannot be done.) I ask people for suggestions of what to do, but have yet to get any. I keep my appointment cards in order, but as of now, have over 3 weeks with nothing to do according to that pile.
It wasn’t rude to comment to her like that; In my opinion, it’s rude to lie to people. For instance, stop ever telling Dad you know what’s best for me, or would care (or even proverbially “flinch”) if I died tomorrow!!
Speaking of Dad, saw him about 2 1/2 hours ago, & he showed me he had blood taken today. Whose job is it to permanently remove you from him?!
My own schoolteachers used slashes all the time. (Yours would’ve, too, if they fit on the stone tablets.) Again, not an area either of us have expertise in, so we each have right to our opinions.
I don’t need to have the last word; If I knew you were going to comment, I would’ve posted a comment directed at you first. Whichever of us writes first or last, I’m the one living the life 24-7, so it’s obvious what I choose to do or say is what’s most-important!
September 4, 2014 at 9:23 PM
Pinerun says:
Your father is the one who would remove me from his life! You need to discuss that with him, I’m sure he would love to hear that from you. I don’t tell him what is best for you, why would I?
September 5, 2014 at 12:29 AM
tjchurch2001 says:
I honestly don’t see a reason for you to tell him what (you think) is best for me. However, I also see no reason for you to tell me, & you seem to have no problem doing that (at length)!
Also, I don’t see a reason to discuss my father’s romantic relationships with him… But (as I wrote already) you surely don’t hesitate to tell either of us what (you think) is best for our health (even though neither of us will ever be pregnant, which is inarguably your area of expertise), & since I have come to realize this year that removing you from it would greatly-improve his life, I may just do that!
September 5, 2014 at 12:51 AM
Pinerun says:
Go ahead!
September 5, 2014 at 1:07 AM
tjchurch2001 says:
There’s some of that irony I’m such a fan of: Telling me to “Go ahead” & help Dad remove the pain in everyone’s behind!!!
However, unlike you, I know what is & isn’t my business to get involved in, so I still don’t think I will. (More improv-life: I don’t think about things much, so you REALLY expected me to do what someone tells me to?!)
September 5, 2014 at 1:11 AM
Tim, improv or not, it is rude to remove your hearing aid- especially in a slow and purposeful way- when a professional with whom you have requested an appointment, is speaking. It is rude to speak of your mother in such a manner as you have. You have more to consider this evening than whether or not you will take a prescribed med or attend another nephew soccer game. Your mother , by the way, is sharing her computer with you so that you can write in this manner about her.
September 3, 2014 at 9:49 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Aunt Shirley,
1] I never asked for an appointment with this guy… Not the first group of times I saw him nor this one; In both cases, I was tossed to him by his brother. (Mom commented later today that the waiting room had been largely empty, & I said I thought it was because the neurosurgeon was at the Youngstown office where I had those tests done last Wednesday, a day when I had physically seen the -surgeon there.)
2] While we both know I’ve never worked a paying job at all, removing the aid is not “slow” at all; I suppose if the need presented itself, I could do it blindfolded, & probably also in under 10 seconds.
3] I may not have told you before, but I’m often a fan of irony, so I’m debating right now whether-or-not I choose to enjoy the fact Mom’s twin doesn’t know how she “say(s) 1 thing & do(es) another” (to quote Aerosmith), “talks out both sides of her mouth” (to use the popular phrase), &/or (simply-put) “is 2-faced”. (Got mail today that says she’s got a vocal-guitar performance coming-up; Let me know if she gets scheduled to sing a duet by herself, ‘cuz THAT I wanna hear/see!)
September 4, 2014 at 12:02 AM
Pinerun says:
When you agreed to see the dr on his brother’s recommendation, you then chose to see him. No one forced you there by either a rope or a chain. If you don’t want to see a dr, don’t waste his time or the taxpayers money by going.
If you reread the blog that you wrote, you said that “I slowly removed my hearing aid from my ear”. So Shirley was right, you did write that! It was disrespectful t
We ALL know you have never worked a paying job. You remind us of that every chance you get. My cousin has a son who is deaf and has Down’s syndrome, he went away to school and is proud to tell anyone that he has a job and goes to work daily to earn a paycheck.
You like to think that you live improv, but you don’t really. You went to some classes many years ago, but not recently. You ask people frequently for suggestions on twitter as to what to with your up filled days. And you live with a stack of appointment cards in chronological order.
That was rude to comment to Shirley like that. She loves you and cares for you.
When writing, pick a word and use it. Using slashes and multiple words is improper grammar.
I know you will respond to this, because you always have to have the last word. After that you unfriend, or unfollow so there are no further replies and you are sure to have the last word!
September 4, 2014 at 12:11 PM
tjchurch2001 says:
Nobody forced me there by rope or chain, but when a surgeon says he won’t operate on you “unless you…” (as Brian Brocker has done at least twice now), & you know that an operation is the only way to fix problems (I don’t argue with you on pregnancies, so you don’t argue with me on neurology), you do it.
I never said I didn’t write that; Simply that it doesn’t always take the time she was assuming. Reread what we each wrote, & maybe finish writing your own sentences while you’re at it.
I remind you of my lack of paying work for the same reason your cousin’s son (“Six Degrees Of I Couldn’t Care Less”) reminds you that he has it: My “sugar stuff” (strips, etc.) & shunt are clearly visible to anyone when I am out (Sunday Lunches or anywhere I eat tomorrow), so any job I would even apply for would have to be added to all the work & other things that the misdiagnosis already places on my schedule.
I only went to one improv class (at Y’town Playhouse), & learned nothing knew. (By definition, teaching it cannot be done.) I ask people for suggestions of what to do, but have yet to get any. I keep my appointment cards in order, but as of now, have over 3 weeks with nothing to do according to that pile.
It wasn’t rude to comment to her like that; In my opinion, it’s rude to lie to people. For instance, stop ever telling Dad you know what’s best for me, or would care (or even proverbially “flinch”) if I died tomorrow!!
Speaking of Dad, saw him about 2 1/2 hours ago, & he showed me he had blood taken today. Whose job is it to permanently remove you from him?!
My own schoolteachers used slashes all the time. (Yours would’ve, too, if they fit on the stone tablets.) Again, not an area either of us have expertise in, so we each have right to our opinions.
I don’t need to have the last word; If I knew you were going to comment, I would’ve posted a comment directed at you first. Whichever of us writes first or last, I’m the one living the life 24-7, so it’s obvious what I choose to do or say is what’s most-important!
September 4, 2014 at 9:23 PM
Pinerun says:
Your father is the one who would remove me from his life! You need to discuss that with him, I’m sure he would love to hear that from you. I don’t tell him what is best for you, why would I?
September 5, 2014 at 12:29 AM
tjchurch2001 says:
I honestly don’t see a reason for you to tell him what (you think) is best for me. However, I also see no reason for you to tell me, & you seem to have no problem doing that (at length)!
Also, I don’t see a reason to discuss my father’s romantic relationships with him… But (as I wrote already) you surely don’t hesitate to tell either of us what (you think) is best for our health (even though neither of us will ever be pregnant, which is inarguably your area of expertise), & since I have come to realize this year that removing you from it would greatly-improve his life, I may just do that!
September 5, 2014 at 12:51 AM
Pinerun says:
Go ahead!
September 5, 2014 at 1:07 AM
tjchurch2001 says:
There’s some of that irony I’m such a fan of: Telling me to “Go ahead” & help Dad remove the pain in everyone’s behind!!!
However, unlike you, I know what is & isn’t my business to get involved in, so I still don’t think I will. (More improv-life: I don’t think about things much, so you REALLY expected me to do what someone tells me to?!)
September 5, 2014 at 1:11 AM
2014.9.15
Yes; Here I am again, with another blog for all of you. I have no clue how many readers I ever get, or how many of you ever read any of them, let alone all of them… However, keeping-up with the comments left on all of them (which I do my human best with) shows me that even those of you who have pretended to my face to care about me for my entire life, right on down to those of you who’ve only known me since I was 18 (if that long) &, despite lack of a criminal record, continue to decide I don’t deserve to be treated like a human, let alone an adult… Anyway, seems you love these blogs, as it gives you a chance to comment. (Sorry; I passed Latin in high school, but was unaware :”comment” was from the older-language word-origin for “rip the author to shreds like you were running a cheese-grater on his face”.)
Sorry; That was there for all of you to see, but actually directed at the vast minority of you. (No need to name them, or write further things I considered posting that would’ve been rather personal; They know who they are.) Instead, let me get past that, & refer to what this blog is meant to be about… Let me mention what happened on September 11th.
Now, I’m not going to mention what happened on September 11th some 13 years ago; Yes, I was alive, & very-much recall it. However, if you don’t, odds are you’re trying not to, or you’re too young to know. (In that case, I will treat you like my nephews, who have never heard a word on a list of them my sister instructed me not to use around “my kids”.) I’m referring to what happened on the 11th of this month this year.
I woke up relatively-early. (I had no appointments, but I had some things I wanted to accomplish over much of last week.) The show I started watching first bored me, but being my father’s son (which may mean nothing to anyone in 49 states), I turned-on “Mike & Mike” on one of the ESPN channels. They were both there, as was a third man I thought might have been one of the channel’s “NFL analysts”. Therefore, I was all set to hear them talk about the upcoming/recently-passed Steelers-Ravens game.
Instead, however, the camera did a close-up on “Greenie” (what Golic often calls Greenberg). As I alluded to earlier in this blog, I literally grew up around sporting venues, so I was prepared to hear him talk about any sport (even some we don’t play in the States). Instead, he went into a long, spoken piece about the events of that day over a dozen years ago.
Needless to say, this upset me. I now don’t care to relive any of the Ravens-Steelers game, & would bet any fellow Steelers fan would agree. I also don’t care to relive much of the year 2001 (the year I graduated high school & was diagnosed Diabetic, & some connection to Kubrick that I’ve never read/heard/seen), & I feel safe to bet nobody would disagree with me on that one, especially when it comes to that specific day.
It got to the point that the camera went wide again, showing all 3 men. I recalled the old movie “Airheads”, most of which happens in a radio station while the DJ is on the air, & kept waiting for someone to enter the room or speak into his headset, telling Mike G. nobody was in the mood to talk-or-hear about this… I won’t say it never happened, but I will say that if it did, I never saw it.
Instead, I sat there, jaw literally dropped, wondering why Greenberg (who I’ve honestly felt was the smarter of the 2) would decide to talk about that for as long as he did, continuing to make that choice each time he paused. I furthermore wondered why everyone in/on that staff would choose to allow him. (Dad’s done a lot on radio & TV, so I know they have “powers that be” telling them if-&-when they can/can’t say things.)
Finally, I mentally corrected myself… I’m not aware of anyone I knew through “Six Degrees Of” anyone or anything that was killed or even hurt that day. But what if I had been?! What if I was related to the guy once famous for his “Let’s roll” line that I once saw plastered on hats after that day? Wouldn’t I want to know that he wasn’t forgotten since then? For every bit what the ESPN guy said upset me, it may have made someone in his family feel better.
Eventually deciding I didn’t want to think about that day, or even anything connected to it (again using the famous “Six Degrees…” bit), I thought about something else, something I think about a ton: “When is the next one?” I don’t have a clue when the next strike by a terrorist “cell” or anything is (nor do I want to), & I know my next doctor’s appointment isn’t for another two weeks (even if you’re counting it as Monday now, it’s 2 weeks from tomorrow).
But I wasn’t thinking about either of those; I wondered when the next big, national anniversary is.
I remember 1996 or 1997, I was a Freshman in high school. Columbus Day was approaching, & we were all in “Homeroom”. My Homeroom teacher was a great guy named Mr. Andrews. He was never my Science teacher, but he had taught my best friend & my sister. That day, he taught me something my alma mater may not want you to know about: We were (at the time) supposed to get a day off each for Columbus Day & the upcoming “Teacher In-Service”, but the school District was being sneaky & giving us “1 as 2”…
Anyway, I tried to remember when the next big holiday is. I thought of a bunch of them in no special order, but it made me think of something else. (I keep wishing my neuro- guys could tell me why/how my brain does things like this.) Non-specific, I know we have some holidays we celebrate on a famous person’s birthday. Others, we celebrate on the day they died, or the day they made their first big contribution to “the world at large”. Others, we celebrate/remember the day they died. (In the words of Billy Joel, “JFK. Blown away…”.) Then there’s those 2 Presidents in February, neither of whom get their own individual day, & the day they share is within 2 weeks of a day set aside for groundhogs!!! [If you ask me, that’s just not ferret!! J]
Briefly mentioning the people/stuff I wrote about at the start of this (about the things others wrote at the end of the last one), I’ve written it a million times, & said it to the other 3 members of my oft-referred-to “family of 4”: You’ll find no bigger defender of one’s right to their opinion than me. The only requirements I have are you have to admit that’s all it is, & return the favor by giving me the same rights/freedoms.
With that, I’m off until if/when I feel like writing again… Remember, on- or offline, I have the (“right”? or “freedom”? Call it both) to be silent any time I want.
Yes; Here I am again, with another blog for all of you. I have no clue how many readers I ever get, or how many of you ever read any of them, let alone all of them… However, keeping-up with the comments left on all of them (which I do my human best with) shows me that even those of you who have pretended to my face to care about me for my entire life, right on down to those of you who’ve only known me since I was 18 (if that long) &, despite lack of a criminal record, continue to decide I don’t deserve to be treated like a human, let alone an adult… Anyway, seems you love these blogs, as it gives you a chance to comment. (Sorry; I passed Latin in high school, but was unaware :”comment” was from the older-language word-origin for “rip the author to shreds like you were running a cheese-grater on his face”.)
Sorry; That was there for all of you to see, but actually directed at the vast minority of you. (No need to name them, or write further things I considered posting that would’ve been rather personal; They know who they are.) Instead, let me get past that, & refer to what this blog is meant to be about… Let me mention what happened on September 11th.
Now, I’m not going to mention what happened on September 11th some 13 years ago; Yes, I was alive, & very-much recall it. However, if you don’t, odds are you’re trying not to, or you’re too young to know. (In that case, I will treat you like my nephews, who have never heard a word on a list of them my sister instructed me not to use around “my kids”.) I’m referring to what happened on the 11th of this month this year.
I woke up relatively-early. (I had no appointments, but I had some things I wanted to accomplish over much of last week.) The show I started watching first bored me, but being my father’s son (which may mean nothing to anyone in 49 states), I turned-on “Mike & Mike” on one of the ESPN channels. They were both there, as was a third man I thought might have been one of the channel’s “NFL analysts”. Therefore, I was all set to hear them talk about the upcoming/recently-passed Steelers-Ravens game.
Instead, however, the camera did a close-up on “Greenie” (what Golic often calls Greenberg). As I alluded to earlier in this blog, I literally grew up around sporting venues, so I was prepared to hear him talk about any sport (even some we don’t play in the States). Instead, he went into a long, spoken piece about the events of that day over a dozen years ago.
Needless to say, this upset me. I now don’t care to relive any of the Ravens-Steelers game, & would bet any fellow Steelers fan would agree. I also don’t care to relive much of the year 2001 (the year I graduated high school & was diagnosed Diabetic, & some connection to Kubrick that I’ve never read/heard/seen), & I feel safe to bet nobody would disagree with me on that one, especially when it comes to that specific day.
It got to the point that the camera went wide again, showing all 3 men. I recalled the old movie “Airheads”, most of which happens in a radio station while the DJ is on the air, & kept waiting for someone to enter the room or speak into his headset, telling Mike G. nobody was in the mood to talk-or-hear about this… I won’t say it never happened, but I will say that if it did, I never saw it.
Instead, I sat there, jaw literally dropped, wondering why Greenberg (who I’ve honestly felt was the smarter of the 2) would decide to talk about that for as long as he did, continuing to make that choice each time he paused. I furthermore wondered why everyone in/on that staff would choose to allow him. (Dad’s done a lot on radio & TV, so I know they have “powers that be” telling them if-&-when they can/can’t say things.)
Finally, I mentally corrected myself… I’m not aware of anyone I knew through “Six Degrees Of” anyone or anything that was killed or even hurt that day. But what if I had been?! What if I was related to the guy once famous for his “Let’s roll” line that I once saw plastered on hats after that day? Wouldn’t I want to know that he wasn’t forgotten since then? For every bit what the ESPN guy said upset me, it may have made someone in his family feel better.
Eventually deciding I didn’t want to think about that day, or even anything connected to it (again using the famous “Six Degrees…” bit), I thought about something else, something I think about a ton: “When is the next one?” I don’t have a clue when the next strike by a terrorist “cell” or anything is (nor do I want to), & I know my next doctor’s appointment isn’t for another two weeks (even if you’re counting it as Monday now, it’s 2 weeks from tomorrow).
But I wasn’t thinking about either of those; I wondered when the next big, national anniversary is.
I remember 1996 or 1997, I was a Freshman in high school. Columbus Day was approaching, & we were all in “Homeroom”. My Homeroom teacher was a great guy named Mr. Andrews. He was never my Science teacher, but he had taught my best friend & my sister. That day, he taught me something my alma mater may not want you to know about: We were (at the time) supposed to get a day off each for Columbus Day & the upcoming “Teacher In-Service”, but the school District was being sneaky & giving us “1 as 2”…
Anyway, I tried to remember when the next big holiday is. I thought of a bunch of them in no special order, but it made me think of something else. (I keep wishing my neuro- guys could tell me why/how my brain does things like this.) Non-specific, I know we have some holidays we celebrate on a famous person’s birthday. Others, we celebrate on the day they died, or the day they made their first big contribution to “the world at large”. Others, we celebrate/remember the day they died. (In the words of Billy Joel, “JFK. Blown away…”.) Then there’s those 2 Presidents in February, neither of whom get their own individual day, & the day they share is within 2 weeks of a day set aside for groundhogs!!! [If you ask me, that’s just not ferret!! J]
Briefly mentioning the people/stuff I wrote about at the start of this (about the things others wrote at the end of the last one), I’ve written it a million times, & said it to the other 3 members of my oft-referred-to “family of 4”: You’ll find no bigger defender of one’s right to their opinion than me. The only requirements I have are you have to admit that’s all it is, & return the favor by giving me the same rights/freedoms.
With that, I’m off until if/when I feel like writing again… Remember, on- or offline, I have the (“right”? or “freedom”? Call it both) to be silent any time I want.
2014.11.6
Looking at that title, I thought of several questions a reader may ask. The first was, “What is ‘ad’?” My reply is, “One of four things:
As the famous phrase goes, the future/2015 could be/get “very interesting”.
Looking at that title, I thought of several questions a reader may ask. The first was, “What is ‘ad’?” My reply is, “One of four things:
- To (perhaps) my Pastor & some past teachers, a time period.
- To my best friend, a preposition.
- To my father, something you sell/read for a radio station.
- To me, the least-important part of that title.
As the famous phrase goes, the future/2015 could be/get “very interesting”.
Ostatnio edytowane:
- Dołączono
- 10 Paź 2014
Forgive me father for I have sinned.
- Dołączono
- 20 Maj 2014
TJ has given us (via RequiredName's valiant collation exercise) the perfect response to his own demands that this thread disappear.
Mr Church powiedział(a):
- Dołączono
- 7 Lut 2014
If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?
- Dołączono
- 30 Wrz 2014
Poor Choices
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 3 Paź 2014
He's elevated himself beyond such materialism and realized the true meaning of life is to find someone you lo... uhh I mean enjoy the company of your fellow ma... hmm what I'm saying is that artistic achievement is the highest form of... you know, why isn't he rich?
- Dołączono
- 5 Maj 2014
TJ returned and I totally missed it! AUGH NO! 
Just for the record, I feel like TJ should have a new title, something more befitting of his magnificence. Something along the lines of "God Emperor of the Kiwi Farms" or "Pious Pontiff of the Church of TJ" might work.
Just for the record, I feel like TJ should have a new title, something more befitting of his magnificence. Something along the lines of "God Emperor of the Kiwi Farms" or "Pious Pontiff of the Church of TJ" might work.
- Dołączono
- 1 Kwi 2013
That's a big "if"
- Dołączono
- 7 Cze 2014
I'm still giggling like an idiot at the fact he has a twitter set private with no followers, so may as well just be typing things in notepad. It would almost be artistic if it weren't for the thick curtain of stupidity 