End of 2010

Been a pretty fucked up strange year, hasn't it? So many changes, so many intrigues, so many health issues, strange weather, and generally struggling times. Regardless, Happy New Year to one and all.

Alan came up to visit for a few days, leaving this morning so he could celebrate with his mother this evening, a tradition. Just as well, we never do anything here anyway. It was, and is, always great to see him. It's great to be with old friends you can live, laugh, and talk with for hours. We came up with many odd and interesting ideas, and also firmed up some plans for our upcoming road trip on the 8th. We're going to Monterey Bay. We spent a day there a couple of years ago, but this time we've got a nice hotel right by the attractions, Last time we were there, I had only my video camera with me, so I have very few stills of that trip. I may walk slow, but I can still walk, so I'll do my best to keep up. Nice thing about this location as opposed to remote desert locals is that vodka is readily available, and I've got my percocet, so I'll manage for five days or so. Plus, sleeping on sheets with no cat hair on them for five days, with maid service? Who could argue with that? Lady Heather will be with us, and we'll all have our laptops, so we should get some interesting work done. Heather's actually published a couple of novels, while I've only got minor things distributed.

I'm hoping that my leaving the safe environs of my home will not involve one of my "Fugue" states, which happen as a "Fear-Flight" reaction to me at times. I am apparently during these times totally functional, and no one notices there's nobody home. I'm serious here, this has been happening since I was 17 or so. The parts of the brain which allow you to function day to day are still fully functional, and at times, even enhanced, but the rest of me just isn't active. I've woken up in some strange places over the years, sometimes with people who don't speak English, whom I've apparently been speaking with for a day or so. This is how I ended up with kids. I don't blame the mothers and/or their parents not wanting me to ever be in contact with them again under threat of death. Every six months or so, though, one of them will track me down, either drunk and angry, or slightly nostalgic, and call to taunt me. As I've said before in this blog, this is not ideal, but I understand and I have learned to live with it. At least, If do it again, I won't have to worry about that anymore, a) I am no longer desirable to mate with, and b) I doubt I am fertile or even capable of the act. even here, in safety, I was going over some things I have written and haven't finished, or finished, to show Alan, and I came across two things I don't remember writing. I must have, no one ever uses this lap top but me, and I recognize my prose style, so obviously I did, but for the life of me, I can't remember writing them or my motivation for doing so. Even the subject matter is not anything I ever dwell on. Is it possible to "sleep type?"

Anyway, I am truly and utterly looking forward to this trip. I missed the annual road trip last year due to injury, so I am trying to be very careful. I only have a week or so to go without ending up in the hospital again, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed and being very careful. The hotel we're staying at has wi-fi, so I will try to keep up on the day's activities. I may even be able to add a few pictures in the post. The magic of digital cameras and instant gratification pay off sometimes. Remember when you came back from a trip and had to wait to have your film developed? I miss film, actually. When it's a good picture, it's good; but you have to pay for all the clunkers too. A fair trade off, I suppose.

Expectant from the ether.

Balance

Balance affects almost every aspect of our lives. Balance in your diet, in your appearance, your social life, your work life, your personal life, your love life, in the way you move, and your metal state-your emotions-your soul.

This is a quality I have always lacked. It's not just because I'm bi-polar, although that certainly has never helped matters. I'm either over the  top, or under the radar. I'm rarely the same thing twice.I have core qualities and beliefs which do not change, but rest is subject to change without notice.

I've held a number of jobs in varied categories, I've been legally married to a woman, whom is now my main support and care giver, and unlawfully paired with men. I started my own business, which was very successful for a couple of years, and then sold everything I owned and moved to another state. I've been sober, and more often, a drunk. Funny thing about that. I'm a very mellow, entertaining and often funny drunk, but a mean and critical sober with a temper I aways have to keep in check. I think it's supposed to be the other way around, but then again, I have no balance knob on the stereo that is my life. My sex life has always been up to fate. smile at me, make me laugh, appreciate my work, and I'm yours. Only a few lasting atattachments, but I've been very aloof, or very easy. My personal relationships have always been up in the air also. I have very few friends, perhaps six at best, and I'm being charitable to myself there, but they're all people who have know me for over thirty years or so. I seem to be incapable of making new friends. I have trust issues, to say the very least. I have literally no family relationships. But it's been that way for some time. I was finally starting to forgive my father and then he died. I kept in pretty constant contact with my mother, but she has also passed. It seemed after that, there was no reason to bother. They don't seem to care or approve of me, and I am indifferent to them.

The one thing I did ever achieve, and was almost forty years ago, was balance of carriage and movement. I would put on my favorite music and interpret it in motion. I could spin on a dime, kick and contort, sway and keep pace with the music. This was a private endeavor, however, I've been asked to dance a number of times when I would go to clubs, but I never did. Dancing in public never appealed to me. I would always claim a leg or back injury, so as not to seem rude. Irony that as I was predicting my future accurately. On a funny side note, I was so limber that I could easily put my feet over my head without strain. It was then I discovered I could put my mouth where somebody else's generally was. The novelty and humor wore off quickly. It seems I couldn't even get intimate with myself. Now I walk like an arthritic ninety year old man who is never far from support, be it a walker, a cane, a wall, furniture, anything sturdy. The one balance I had achieved in life was taken away from me.

Fran Leibovitz once said that spilling your guts is just as attractive as it sounds. This while at the same time in the midst of doing it herself in her writings. What the hell. If words on a page are the only way you can communicate, you're driven to do it.

Unbalanced from the ether.

Opps, did it again.

You know the act of walking is basically controlled falling forward. Where am I going here? I'm just saying that anybody can fall down, I just seem to be able to do it semi-lethally. Bubba, who is roughly the size of a small golden retriever, decided he wanted to eat a little early this morning. His insistance is something out of legend. I can be curled in a fetal position and he can still get in my lap. This requires some talent. You know the statue of "The Thinker," crouched forward, your elbows on your knees? This will not stop Bubba either. If he can't get under your arms, he start working his way under your robe, and this is not an ideal option for myriad reasons.

I digress, anyway it was about 3:00 a.m. this moring and Bubba was doing his best to attract my attention, and then proceeded to race me into the kitchen and tripped me.You know the opening of the old Dick Van Dyke show with the ottoman he tripped over? It was much like that. On cold ceramic tile. I think I got all the blood cleaned up before my wife awoke, But I think I left a rib or two in there. Fortunately, I have a lot of pain killers, and vodka to wash them down with. A Disney moviie my life is not. Maybe it's just nature's way of telling me life is done. Stick a fork in it.

I came across a picture of me, an old one, long haried and naked. I don't even remember where I was or who took the picture. then I found some more. None obscene, mind you, but definetely on safe for work. I'm not apologzing, I looked pretty good. I just don't remember who that person was.Who took that child and turned him into Emperor Palpatine? I was worth someting once. At least I hope so.

Well, that's my cheer for the day. Sorry. I'm in rather extreme pain and I want to recreate violent movies at times like this. "Natural Born Killers?" Kiss my lilly white ass.

Yours from the ether.

KISS

I think that's supposed to stand for keep it simple, stupid. Simple I will be. A Merry Christmas to everyone. I don't send out cards anymore, and I don't give gifts. Well, not for Christmas anyway. It's not really my Holiday. Not that I've converted or anything. When you're raised a Morman puppy, you are pretty much damged for life. You can run, but you can't hide.

The really great thing about the Holiday season is all the regrets. I know I've hurt people over the years, and for that I am sorry. You know what I'd like though? For at least one person whose hurt me to say they're sorry. That would be novel. It certainly won't come from my family. They hate me for the creature I've become, and they all helped to craft me into this thing, this non-person, this outcast, this perversion. You know,  I've forgiven my Mother. With five husbands and me a surprise bonus from one of them. She had her hands full and she was hardly domestic, well other than being born in this country. She is no longer with us, and neither is my father, him I will not quickly forgive. A child is not a fungible item, and certainly not to be shared with your friends.

Sorry, I kind of got of the Christmas wishes there. I wish the best for everyone, and hopes of a new year that's better thatn this one has been. I truly miss Bill Clinton. At least to me, those were years of prosperity. He projected hope. I know the down side and the opinions of folks who don't like him, I don't care. I did and I do. If I'd have been a White House intern, it wouldn't have been a stained dress. I actually know how to swallow.

Wow. I drift, I weave, call it getting older, call it what you like. I'm not that old, but I feel like it sometimes.You know how sometimes the weight of the world just bears down on you?

Merry Christmas from the ether.

I wrote a poem once.

Actually, I write all the time. My rich varied fantasy life is much better than my own. My poem was about a large, sturdy tree, king of the forest. Imagine how that one ended. I've got what, my sixteenth novel in the works. This one has everything, wealth, power, and even royalty. It also has a lot of graphic sex. I'm not a dirty old man, well o.k. maybe, but it's hard to write human drama without that portion put in. I have a wealth of experience to draw on.

My Wife has asked me to be more up front with her, so I've hit her between the eyes. All my trips to Vegas were not exactly chaste. Embarrasing in many ways, but what's a boy with money to do? I was making a 100k a year, and like Tracy Chaplin, I had a fast car. I got pulled over once on Higway 40 heading to Laughlin. I was going 135-140, somewhere around there. No marks on my insurance record on that one. I blew the trooper. I think I actually rocked his world. It is seriously doubtful he's been blown like that by his wife. I got off with a warning, and proceeded to pick up the pace. The car I was driving at the time couldn't go over 160. Drive three hundred miles or so in three hours or less. I think I hold the record for this. I know I've pretty much got the record from Boise to San Diego. It's like 1200 miles, and I've done it in less than ten hours in the dead of winter, in snow, and I had to stop three times for gas and food.

Yours from the ether.

Lessons never learned

I truly should not talk on the phone. This never works well for me, and I don't seem to learn. I called my brother to warn him about my last blog, and that just went splendid. I have a large kitchen knife I've always been fond of, I think I'll use that instead of a phone next time. It would be quicker and cleaner. Well, messy, most certainly, but at least it would have an air of finality. I don't get that much in my life these days.

When my mom was passing, I called her at least once a day. I couldn't be there physically, I was a little bit ill, actually to the point of near death, but that's not why I couldn't go up there. I couldn't handle the hatred of my family. I'm good with one or two at a time, but twenty is a little too much. I don't mind being the 'black sheep' of the family. Given my past, it's kind of hard to ignore. I can honestly state that there are people I have not slept with. At least not by choice. Read into that whatever you wish. The reality is probably worse.

To give Joe some credit, I probably shouldn't have opened with "Oh. before you read my last blog, You have two nephews, and you're a grand uncle four times." I suppose I should have tamped that one down a bit. My call was sincere though, I wanted him to hear it from me first, and not on page.

My blog has already been considered 'Not Safe for Work.' Joe actually said it was adult's only. Funny that. Do I need to go into the irony there? I haven't even gotten into the good stuff yet. I was actually a perfect Morman child. Obedient, I bowed before my elders, I was probably pretty much a dream come true for men who married frigid wives. Don't take this in a bad way. I am not threatening, I'm not apologizing. That's all so far in the past it seems a blur to me now. I will state however that Caltholics have nothing on Mormans.

That's me for now from the ether.

O.K. I lied

I was going to shut down, but I can't seem to be able to do so. I'm hurt. I'm angry, and I am damaged goods. Sometimes putting words on a page is therapy. There are so many things I've never told anyone. I rode the roads for awhile, myself, I've probably blown more trukers than a Texas Whorehourse. I am an equal opportunity employer. Women, men, I don't care. If you can make my laugh, I'm yours.

I have two children. I've never met them. Apparently I'm just kind of a 'donor.' Their mother's did not want me in their lives, which was probably wise. I do keep in contact though, by their mothers. My oldest son has four children. Ask me how I feel about that. I don't mind being a grandfather, I'm not even upset by that, but am I not supposed to care?

I got glowing reports. Isn't that fun? You have sons you'll never meet. How Morman is that? I really do get angry at this at times .I wasn't kidding about the glowing reports, They're large and they're smart. Thank heavens they take after their mother's. They have my size, they have my intellect, but I have not had the opportunity to destroy them. That hurts but it's probably a good thing.

The either calls.

The end

This is me signing off for awhile. I don't think I can do this anymore. I need to communicate, I despirately want that, but it always goes south on me. You want stories? I can tell you stories. I've had an interesting life. But who want's to hear it? Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

Never break the Chain

Rainy days here. Four in a row, I think, but then again, I'm not really all there anymore. I do pretend, but in reality, I could give a flying one through a rolling one. I think I asked the musical question of the most inappropriateate place anyone has ever made love. Nobody has responded to that one. I'm not being a dirty old man on this, I really do need the material. If you write the way I do, new stuff is always welcome. I thought of some more that I didn't mention in a prior post. You know, for a boring person, I've had kind of a colorful past. My new category on this...have you actually fallen asleep while having sex? I started to count the times and scared myself. Of course, being a notorious drunk does not help here. I'm so frightened of people and situations in general, that I drink to excess so that I don't care anymore.This can be of help, but also somewhat of a liability. Virtue and Vodka may go hand in hand, but stamina does not always follow. I can't even imagine the response of someone you're going down on to having to roll you off their body.

Why do I expose myself here? Why not? We've all been in embarrassing situations. I just no longer care. What happens in Vegas no longer stays in Vegas. Speaking of which, do you remember Willie Nelson's line from "The Electric Horseman" film about finding a Keno girl who could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch?" I don't know about the girl part, but I have been to a vacuum convention or two. I had an extremely memorable room service call at Harrah's once. All I can say on that one it that it's a good thing the windows don't open. I think after that visit I bought stock in the company. I may have been a bit 'giddy,' that evening. I won 17k and doubled it down. I won a year's salary in six hours. I think this may have had something to do with my libido that evening, and the fact that I was able to attract a willing partner. Normally, I do not get that lucky. All right, never. But this was an interesting night. By the time the food arrived at the room, well, you catch where I'm going here. The child left with a couple of big tips, and cash too.

I actually took on a dare once. I think it was at the Rio. I was saddling up to the bar and the guy next to me was making some final financial arrangements with a very large breasted woman. We'd been talking for some time, he and I, and she thought it a good idea to make yet another financial arrangement. That turned out to be quite funny. Ask me again why I like Las Vegas.

My best from the ether.

Holidays, Shmolidays

Just had another non-fight with my wife of what? 34 years now. How pleasant that is. This one? She didn't believe I fed the kids. The little bastards rolled her. My amusement did little to help domestic complicity however; as you might well imagine. I don't mind them the food, nor do I blame them for this trick, but somehow I am to blame for this. That one sticks in the craw. Nobody starves on my watch. I will be a rotting corpse who still rises to feed his children, even if it's with my own blood. Good news though, she, my lovely wife, also told me that the meat I has taken out of the freezer will go bad if I don't cook it soon. Good heaven's, how did I ever live to this ripe age without such sage council? You mean cook the food before you eat it? How novel is that? What's next, meat with potatoes? Has this ever happened before? I'm certifiably insane, and as a matter of fact, I am certifiable in many ways, you want to piss off a mad man? Watch them go quiet on you. No raised voices, no unspoken words, just a freeze out. This I am very good at. When your very humanity was taken from you at an early age, you learn adaptive skills. I'm not special, and I'm far from being alone in this ship of fools, and and I want no treatment not worthy of me, I'm just saying if you want to fight me, you'd better bring your "A" game, because I am much stronger that you would think.

There is a certain beauty in being what I am. I get judged on so many levels. People like Alan, whom I have known since childhood, still sees me as the child genius with an IQ off the charts. He's also seen me me fall, sometimes spectacularly, you know what though? He loves me. Not because we're related, not because of an oath of fealty, I believe he actually loves me. Just me. I'm not going anywhere with this, but that is more precious to me than nearly anything. I am not totally destroyed. I can still love unconditionally. Oh. The IQ thing? I figured I was dead meat there, I've been a drunk for so long, I figured all the little grey cells went the way of Sherlock and Watson. Not so. A friend who is a court appointed psychologist gave me a test five years ago. Sorry guys, I'm still smart. Not that I can feed myself or anything, I'm not that bright, but I'm not dim either.

Best from the ether, spelling errors and and all.

Seven and counting.

We went to Target today. They opened a new one pretty close to us, actually walking distance if you have the use of your limbs. We drove. Without a visable limp, and no cane in sight, people seem to notice that I am a large man, and they keep out of my way. It also pays to talk very loudly and inappropriately. Seems strange, but it's true, if you have to survive in an obnoxious setting, it pays to be at the head of the pack. I may write porn and erotica, but I never actually speak in this fashion. Holiday sales are the place where you can actaully get your ya ya's out. There are going to be two women alone who will never look at a bathrobe in the same way again.

I actually forgot why we went in the first place. Oh yes. Photo paper. Terri was out, and I haven't printed out a picture in so long there would be living dinosoaur prints on the paper. That's if I could even remember where it was, and that's kind of 'dodgy' these days, I have a resonably certain idea where my printer is. It's in my room somewhere, but that's as far as it goes. We did get some other things at Target also, can't very well get photo paper without getting toilet paper, now, can you? We did pick up a new robe for Terri, a sensible grey terry cloth, which seems fitting on so many levels, and I picked up a new pair of sweat pants, which are helpful in cooler months when your own bathrobe does not actually cover up your legs and your own bits. Throw in a Star Wars T-Shirt and you've gone shopping.

Tomorrow is our weekly getting gas in the car and food shopping day. Should go quickly this time, I am reasonably freshly showered, and can be dressed in a flash. I remember the old days when I showered every time I left the house. I've sort of gotten over that. If I've showered and the only strenuous thing I've done is microwave dinner, I think I'm good enough to go for the next day as long as my clothes are clean. For heaven's sake, it's not like I've left the house without a cap on my head for years now. You should see some of my MRI's. I think Tri-City Hospital actually earned an 'Honorable mention' for one of them.What can I say? My aim is to please. It's not like I've filmed and distributed porno of myself....Oh. Wait a minute, I've done that. I can safely say in regard to that, though, that only a little over 18,000 people have seen it. When you stack that up against Paris Hilton, I'm nearly invisible. I have gotten some very interesting messages on the site; however. When I think of all the nights I spent alone in the past, it truly blows the mind what social networking really means. This is true, I couldn't make this shit up, but I had one guy from Santa Monica who wanted to drive down to meet me in person. Not going to happen, not by any means, but then I get a similar offer from a guy from Pasadena, who happens to be his brother. By this time it became so amusing I almost set up a hook up so we could be fully embarassed together.  For this, I would have driven. I love the Santa Monica Pier anyway. Before you get fully replulsed, this was before my surgeries, and I was reasonably scar free. Once you've put it out there though, it is there forever. The only reason I know how many 'hits' I've had is that I happened to log on the other morning. It's been over two years now, and people are still finding it. I should really do a follow up now, with my torso looking like the road map that it is. Trouble is, that may find a new kink factor audience and I'll be more popular than ever. What could be more fun than popping a cripple? I'm betting I'd get 200k hits on that alone. Pity you really can't make money on this, I've debased myself for forty years and don't have much to show for it. Just suits I can only wear to funerals and uncomfortable shoes.

How did I get from Target to that? Oh. Of Course. The obvious. I both do, and do not recommend this. It is interesting, but also kind of strange. I did get an invite to Germany from a very nice young man who want's to polish his English. I'm not making this one up either. That one was actually tempting. He was a dark haired, overweight photo-journalist with little or no social skills. Having no social skills myself, I think we might have hit it off. Two outsiders to join together looking at the outside. Like I said, that one was really tempting. We had some very interesting 'chats.'

Well, I'm sure I've probably embarassed myself by now. I tend to be good at that. If you're intererested in seeing what I posted, don't bother looking for it, it's too old now and hard to find. If you want to see it, I still have all the originals, just ask. I'm not shy. After all the hospital visits and catheters I've had over the past couple of years, half of the medical commmunity of North County has shoved something up my peepee or in my backside. The only reason that I believe 'nudist' hospitals wouldn't work is that sick people don't tend to look pretty. But seriously, wouldn't it be easier? Here I am, you're going to do what you want anyway, why should I cover myself? There is an x-ray tech at my surgeon's office. She escorted me down to the "Machine" and told me in no uncertain terms that I should put on a shirt before leaving the exam room where I was immmediately told to take off my shirt upon entering. Mixed messages, much? Can you imagine her horror? At roughly my age, or about, she is face to face with a hairy man titty. Was this her first time? Thank heavens this was my shoulder and not my hip replacement. Imagine that one. "Forgive me, dear lady, you're in your fifties and you've never seen one of these before? Where is the island of Lesbos anyway? I've read of it, but I thought it was a myth?"

I could go on with medical humor all night, so I won't. Suffice it to say I am so sufficiently screwed right now that a raod trip the first week of January will not screw me up further. They want more CT Scans, but they werer ordered by my then surgeon. who is no longer affliliated with them. Regardless, I must stay with these folks due to insurance purposes. Here's where it get's fun. I need a new order for the CT Scan. They have the old one, mind you, we even talked about my blood work, but I need a new order from my new doctor. A Doctor who I have never met, and will not see me until I get the results from the CT Scan under my belt. Are you starting to see the problem here? My arm is not healing. No one will see me unless I have proof, and no one will see me unless I have proof, and basically, no one will see me at all unless I go into the ER. According to the insurance company statements, I've racked up a half-million dollars this year, and that's not even the fun parts, like when they stick tupes up your whizzer when they cut you open. I think there's a different category for that. Kind of like "Necessary Procedures," and "We just kind of did this for fun,"  really, and I know it's because I'm a guy and all, but how do you bill for the peepee catheter? Millimeters, Inches, What? It really begs for it's own stand-up comedy routine."Here's your itemized bill, Mr. Johnson. Your name is Mr. Johnson? Really? Well that would explain page tweleve, right there it would."

Sorry. In the words of my betters, I get goosed, and I get loose sometimes.

Love from the ether.

It's beginning to look a lot like..

Wet weather here. No snow, of course, not at near sea level, although I am certain that the mountains close by will be dusted. I love the snow, and it's very scenic and all, but people here go bonzo ape shit when it happens and it's just not safe to drive up and see it. They'll just bring their extended family and stop in the middle of the road to have a snowball fight or something. It's bad enough when you come across the yellow snow, I don't want to come across the red snow also.

I'm using my X-mas gift, we are not real good with dates here, Terri bought me a wireless keyboard and mouse. Now I can do "air guitar" from across the room. It would be better if I had more mobility, but it's neat not having to trip over cables or have the cats do the same. Bubba, who is large beyond reason for a domestic cat, is pretty good about that, but Tatiana, all seven or eight pounds of her, has a tail that can topple chairs and ottomans. She gets what I call a "Tail-on" and the rigid member snags every cable in the room, dragging everything onto the floor. You might think I jest here. I don't in this case. If I told you she wears lipstick and flies, that would be jesting. By the way she looks lovely in a cinnamon shade, it goes with her brindle coloring, and the ceilings need dusting anyway.

It looks like, Goddess willing, and the creek don't rise, I will be able to make a road trip this January. I had to miss last year's, breaking a five year streak. I don't know for certain where we're going. Either Springdale, Utah, or Morro Bay. One is closer, the other cheaper. Since Alan and I, or a combination of the two, have been going up there every January, they are offerring him really nice rates. $55 a night. We can get two rooms for less than the price of one at Morro Bay. Since the Lady Heather will be with us, at least as is currently planned, two rooms are rather in order. They get to see each other very rarely, her working in Sacto, and I always feel guilty about not being able to drop off to a sound sleep to let them have some privacy. Of course, they could always ask me to join in, but, like I said, I'm not going there anymore. Alan's mom has sundowner's syndrome, or TIA's and that is a problem. If we have to cut our trip short, I will understand. Who the hell an I, for heaven's sake? I should just wear all the hospital bracelets I've collected after nearly 30 days in the 'joint' this year, and save time. It will make the EMT's job easier. "We have a White male, he presents well, but he's fucked up pretty bad. Oh, and by the way, his blood type changes seemingly at will, keep an eye on that."

That by the way, is one of those odd things. And this is truth. After my last very painful surgery, the one where they didn't put me out sufficiently, I had sixteen bags of blood put into me. It was not my blood type, but I didn't reject it. This is a true "go figure" moment. Either someone up high likes me, or more likely, someone down low is enjoying my torment. I'm not blowing this out my ass here, I have medical records. There is no way on this earth I should have been able to tolerate 16 bags of A- blood. Weird, huh?

But back to normal things, Bubba is going nuts. If I am awake, it is most certainly time for him to be fed, and he get's it into his little Bubba head, that if he remainds me with his presence every twelve seconds, I will remember my duty. It's not just the walking over my keyboard, or my shoulders, or the pouncing on my wounds, it's the unbelievable meowing that gets to me. He knows he can break me down with that one. Jingle Cats can retire, Bubba is Pavoratti. He is actually so bold, If I get up to take a leak and do not firmly shut the bathroom door, he will use my friend 'willy' as a batting cage assistant. This is not pretty, and no fun to clean up after, either. Still, he is my son, and I love him. He is a trial, but I'm most certain I was also.

That's it from the ether tonight, Bubba is drving me crazy. Time to be Dad.

Time to blog once again.

Been a couple of days, I know. The spilling your heart out on the stage, as it were, actually takes a bit out of you. It's been pretty O.K. here. Not perfect, mind you, far from it, but it does tend to roll on. I've been trying to get an appointment for a CT Scan on a day when Terri can take some time off from work, and that is rather problematical. She's going to be off on Dec. 24th, but I can imagine, the fine folks at the lab are not going to be at their best on that day. "Hey, what say we place a '54 buick in the imaragery, type of thing. You know, typical holiday humor. Trouble is, everyone I've known that I trust I've known for about thirty years, and none of them are local. Alan, whom I have known since third grade, at least, is still in the finals portion of his grading at SDSU, and his health is not that much better than mine, and although I have sort of made friends with my neighbor who I do the computer work for, is busy trying to get a job in this economy. That leaves nobody. At least in this part of the State. Alan's lady, and her family, I am certain would come to me in a pinch, but that is somewhat problematical, as they are in Sacramento. I have friends in Idaho and other areas up north, but same problem. I have to get this scan done, though, my arm has gone past non-healing into a science fiction movie side effect. It's not just painful and usless anymore, it's actually very painful, and unless I try and keep up with their demands, I am not worth their interest. Funny really. They've fucked up three surgeries and I'm the one who is holding them back. Remember 'Toppo Giggio' from the old Ed Sullivan Show?" It feels like that sometimes. The fact that I am not perfect is surely my fault because I'm just not trying enough. Hey. Listen. I've seen all the sport's themed movies where the disabled guy says, "Nothing's going to keep me down," etc. That's bull puck. These amazing atheletes are trying to make it back on the team. I'm just trying to be able to take out the trash and clean the litter boxes and water the plants. Maybe my goals are simple, but I am trying. Maybe these pro atheletes had both lungs. Maybe they could feel their feet and had both arms at their disposal. I am asked up to please shut me up when I get like this, but I mean it. My future never depended on pro sports or anything like that. I'm just a normal guy. I never had anything to aspire to. How could I? Growing up a white trash morman, and I couldn't even do that.

Sad state of affairs there. I've never been enough. (Please harken back to the, "Please tell me to shut up," I've written in my previous blog, but I'm not going there). I'm going somewehere else here. Stop judging me. I am not you. It's just easier for me to be what I am. We don't grow older and wiser, we simply perfect what we are. Congratulations. This is me. You don't have to like me, you certainly don't have to admire me, but for Heaven's sake, don't make re-establish contact with me and then never contact with me once again when I have upset you're delicate sensibilities. I am human. I feel. Any celled creature reacts to stimulus. I've been getting this all my life. This has been going on for over fifty years. Eveytime one of you, my beloved brothers, has a crises of faith, I am the one that takes you in. I do not judge. If you wish to go in a different direction, is it not I that always is there for you? Of course, this is past. As soon as money entered into the picture, and I, as dad's only son who was not adopted choose to rebel against the wicked and heinious creature that was his then wife, and what that anyway/? The fifth, or the sixth? I loose count, came to take all from us, I did rebel again. How like me. What can I say? I'm an asshole. If I hadn't we'd have gotten nothing from the experience. I have a number of legal arguments on this, and I am a pretty skilled counselor on these issues, but why would anyone listen to me? As muxh as I disappoint you, you have both have well disappointed me, that one's still an annoyance to me. The saving's bond thing. Who do yo think actually did that? If I hadn't talked dad into changiinjg the titles on those bonds that he's had, we'd have gotten nothing. Do you think I did this for my own benefit? Sorry. I didn't care. I just didn't want her to have it. Same with the rest. I'm not mercenary, If I was, believe me, I could have done much worse. I won't evem go into the problems I had with this estate. Believe me, it would straighten your pubic hair, if you knew the truth. I've had some problems with dad over the years, who couldn't, but DON'T EVER TELL ME THAT I WAS NOT LOOKING OUT FOR THE FUTURE.. Not for me. My brothers would not listen to me on this, I know that, but I actually am nobody's fool. This could have worked out for everybody, but no. Am I angry about that? Hell Yes. I am. I know I'm the youngest brother, the child of the family. Good for me.

Am I dissapointed in you, my brothers? Damned skippy, I was. How dare you? You haven't walked in my shoes. You know the whole, funny thing about Dad's funeral? I wasn't going to go. Terri made me. Then when I got there and realized I was not welcome, I just faded out. It's true I was reasonably drunk at the time, I will freely admit that. You don't know what I know. I thought I would truly lose it when all the young Boy Scouts came up to sing. I could help thinking....Well you know what I was thinking. Good service all. Congrats. You won that battle. Problem was, I'd already given up that one. Terri and I sat in the back, she held my hand the entire time. I think most likely because she was trying to hold me down. When we got to the gravestie, I was accosted by people who knew that I was not worthy. That made me feel so good. I was the dirt swept under the rug.  That also made me feel so good. I know every family has it's problems, but I won't go further here, it's not my point. They're their way or the Highway. You know something, I'll take the Highway.

You know, when Teri's dad died, I was pretty much in charge of some things, and I handled it with grace and dignity, as best I could. Everybody got a hug and such, and I had the family laughing in my own somewhat bodatious fashion. I even pretended to get drunk with her father's sister-in-law, and believe me, that was a stretch, because I can drink Irish Cops under the table.You know why, because they were my family. They needed me to be strong and they needed a laugh. Do you honestly think this did not take a lot out of me? It did. For a bi-polar person like myself to spend four days being the backbone of the family took a lot our of me. I'm not taking all credit for this, I surely was not alone, but to me, it was a stretch. I did my best though. That is not a pat on the back moment here, but I have to ask myself, could anyone who judges me now, have done any better?  I did what I've done always in my field, make feel better that they did before.

Sorry, this is one of those moments where I said, "Shut me up." In the words of Jessica Rabit in the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit," I must say, "I didn't mean to be evil, I was just drawn that way." Sorry. It's late. I can sleep actually, assuming I take a number of pills washed down with Vodka. There is no moral to this story.

My affection to all from the ether.

X-mas time

For anyone on Facebook, this is kind of a repeat, but having truly and totally messed up my ankle, I nonetheless went shopping at Fry's. Big surprise, we were not the only people there. Go figure. All the merry people are animals this time of year. If you're walking with a limp or a cane, they see you as obstacles that they must overcome and will try and knock you over or kick out your cane. They're like predators who will pick on the weak of the pack. When arm was still in a huge sling, and I was walking with a quad cane, people in the supermarket would speficially bump me with their carts. Mostly women doing that, although in all fairness, mostly women shopping anyway in that venue.

Nonethless it is our ritual on Sundays to buy food for the week. This is about the only time I do get out of the house. After walking around for an hour or so yesterday it was a percocet evening. I thought the swelling would go down by now, but it looks like a swallowed a melon and it by passed my stomach and went straight to my foot. Stomping the aisles should be fun today. But it beats being hungry, I guess. I need to replenish my liquid refeshments also. That's a sure fire way to get me out the door. Had a great visit from an old friend on Friday. I've actually been hearing from a number of people since I decided to air my dirty laundry. I've been aoiding that topic since, nobody needs to hear it. Please tell me to shut up in the future.

Alan is in week three of chemo, but we are still planning on a road trip. Think of the scenic places I can fall down in then. In our past trips, I've taken a spill at almost every national park in southern Utah. Funny thing that, we generally break up the drive at Vegas, but I've never taken a tumble there. Seems my system reaches an equilbrium there. Falling down in Utah is kind of the state sport, I think. They really should asssemble as an olympic event. Maybe teams and sychronized also. I think that's one of the reasons I've always liked swiming. Hard to fall down there. I doubt I will be doing too much swiming for awhile. However, I could always use my dead arm as a flotation device.

Well, that's me from the ether this fine, sunny morning;

An iteresting question presents itself.

I just opened up a email from an old friend. The question was where is weirdest or most inappropriate place you've had sex. It was funny because they mentioned a time at a funeral, and had cleary forgotten, I was rather intimately involved in that, being with them at the time. It's nice to know you're so fondly remembered. But it did get me thinking. I've been racking my brain for some time trying to think of a 'can you top this moment,' Everyone feel free to comment on that subject. Churches, Vice Principal's office, and limo's are easy, just like elevators and public restrooms. There was a time in a Mexican jail in Ensenada, but I'm not counting that one, it was out of the country. I suppose the all time topper would be at a funeral with the corpse. Never done that. A wedding with the groom, that one I have done.A cab driver when I didn't have enough for the fare, that one also, but I really can't think of anything that is a real show stopper.Let's call this a challenge here. Give me your best shot.

Yours from the ether.

Ouch

Memo to self. Never put on shoes. Well maybe shoes, but my days with boots are definitely over. Took long enough to get them on.Then I fell in them. That was a happy embarassment. Falling is nothing new for me, I've made kind of a career choice out of it, but the extra four inches make it hit harder. I think Terri pulled a muscle trying to get them off me. That was comic. I actually put on pants also. That too is unusual. I put on my tightest jeans. I could have put a bull dog in there with me. I think these days I am going to stick with bathrobes. But hey, at least I've got my heatlh.(Hee hee), and my santity (Har har) and my wealth (whop whop). I think the nice guys at the liquor store were stunned. Here I was fully dressed amd tall. Of course, I sprained my ankle, so that hurts, but at least I have pain killers. There is a light at the end of every tunnel.

I love the concept of pain killers. I also love the severe warnings on all the prescription bottles that you must never, ever take them with alcohol. That one always cracks me up. I also like the ones that say they must be taken with food, and the others that say take on an empty stomach.I don't actually mind the ones that say do not take with milk. I use that for cooking only. I thumb my nose at the one that says do not take with orange juice. Really. A screwdriver is a perfectly healthy beverage.My thyroids can go f**k themselves.I love the fact that all my doctors give me these pills, knowing full well I am an alcohoic. The vancomysin which caused me to lose the hearing in my left ear was funny also. One nice thing about that though, if you position yourself well, you don't have to listen to someone speaking at you. I've also had huge entertainment taking out the garbage in the mornings toting an IV pole. Even the gardener here worries about me, and he doesn't even speak English. I bought him a bottle last year for Christmas. I was going to get him a very nice tequilla, but then realized that was stereotypic.I got him some scotch instead. That probably sent all sorts of mixed messages. Then again, my life is full of metaphores and similies. I did have some fun with drugs in July. My surgeon, who has since left the practice, knowing full well that I was alergic to penicillen, gave me some sulfa based antibiotics for my staff infection. that was also comic. Good thing I have a remarkable constitution. Good thing I have a pretty well controlled temper also. I know that Terri is hoping I will die and she'll have a wrongful death suit going on so she can quit her job. Maybe one of these days I will indulge her.

I dearly like my regular doctor, the primary care physician. He calls me 'young man' and clearly does not read my chart. Still, anyone who calls you 'young man' should be a part of your life. They used to have a pretty nice lounge/bar here just down the street. This being a retirement community, I was pretty much the youngest guy in the room all the time. You really haven't lived until you've been repeatedly hit on by people in their 80's. I've ocassionaly wondered what would happen if I said, "Sure. You're place or mine?" I've definitely got to put 911 on my speed dial for that one. You think the ER doctors would report me if I was always at the scene of heart attacks and strokes?

I had a client once who was a very spry 84. She was divorcing her husband, who was 88. Some things defy logic and reason. I enjoyed them both. Not that way, but as live wire cards. The shortage of single men at the assisted living facility made him a hot ticket, and he was enjoying every minute of it. I doubt I'll live to be a dirty old man, but then again, I doubted I was going to live this long, either. I'm certain he will go out 'in the saddle' as it were, and you have to appericate that. One of my favorite authors said he wanted to die at 80, making love at a 24 year old, and crushed my an elephant. Kind of makes you want to run away and join the circus, doesn't it?

That's me from the ether tonight.

Less is more

Did I tell you the one about a bus full of nuns, two church choirs and a marching band with elephants? That one actually is funny. I've wondered about the t-shirts people ware that say "I'm  with stupid" with an arrow. Aren't you actually exposing yourself on that one? I have a number of T-shirts I've always wanted to have printed. "God, Country and I skipped prison" That type of thing, I could be a riot in Arizona right now. Hell, I should run for Governor there. I could do worse? I should move to Alaska. They seem to be in with the 'temp' jobs, and the pay is good. I can well imagine spending 180k on clothes.Of course, they'd all be Rolling Stones tee-shirts, but hey, who's counting?

I got morbid on the phone earlier today. I don't know why I do this. Some times I just need to reach out an touch somebody, in a nice way. I'm heavily into telling the truth now, so I will admit, the Vodka probably helped me along there. But what's the harm? I don't drive, I rarely leave the house, except for the death count, I'm actually pretty mellow. Yes, Go back to the I skipped prison portion of this story. I remember very vividly a nice evening with my brother and his then fiance, and a police Sargent who did not want me to go to the bathroom by myself. That was a fun time for all. Worse, I was out of cigarettes. Thankfullly, I had a bottle of rum in the bedroom. It was for my cough, you know? That cop stuck with me for three days. I thought I'd joined the force after awhile.

Fortunately. my brilliant father came through. I had my issues with the man. It's rather hard not to in my situation, but he and my uncle looked after me, Rather closely. I don't go back to Idaho anymore. It's the only place I've taken a life. Well, there was that one time, but what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.You know the best part? You don't know if I'm kidding. For a pacifist and a non-violent man, I seem to have taken a toll .I was actually saved once. I hit a cop car on icy roads, they were parked in the middle of blind corner, and snow tires or no, I sideswiped them. I was rather a local celebrity for that.Then a lady friend didn'tt hit a cop car, she actualy hit a cop.Took the heat off me entirely. She was laid up in a Catholic hospital for about two weeks, and we festooned her walls with 'Playgirl' centerfolds. Did I mention I don't go back to Idaho anymore? I don't think they miss me.

I have yet to take a life in Utah, but then I've really only been there six times recreationally. I do remember a nine hour lay-over in Salt Lake where they do not serve alcohol on Sundays, but that one worked out o.k. I hooked up with three Marines. I'd been in Idaho for two weeks, and I was so pleased to see people who weren't white.Oh, if bathrooms could tell a story. I'm really not this person. Well of course I am, but I'm not. I see a need and I fill it. I don't know what that makes me. Certaily not what I'm supposed to be. My family reminds me of that every chance they get. What harm have I done? No one's ever complained.

It's funny, that sounds self-serving, but it's true. I was born and breed for this. If you don't like it, fine, freeze me out. I'm used to that. I know my family hates me, and secretly I think they know why. Makes no difference to me, I'm a lot more powerful than they realize. Not only that, I'm very colorful at times. Have you ever made love in an elevator going up 38 floors, Twice? In Vegas, where everythihng is filmed? I've had an odd life, but it's been an interesting one.

That's me from the ether tonight. I seem to be on this journey of self-exposition. Forgive me.

What's new?

Things go on here. I am at a phase in my life where I am thankful for some things, and regretful of others.Still, for someone who swore to never live past the age of thirty five, and did everything in his power to ensure that fact, I still find myself alive and here. I had a great conversation with a friend of mine that I knew as a teenager last night. We talked for hours. I don't know which is harder to believe. That I was actually a teenager once, or that I managed to make friends. Let me just say that if I haven't been physically intimate with you, you're probably related to me, or I truly do love you. I do have some limits. Sometimes that line gets blurred, and that has happened in the past. When I was young and reasonably attractive, I did use that as currency. I can't fall in love. I don't think I'm capable of that. Amazingly enough, most of the people I met in rehab (after rehab, and again, which didn't take) were the same way. We all knew we were damaged goods. You can touch our bodies, but you can't touch our minds. We've built borders which can not be breached.

I have fallen in lust. It cost me my marriage. Very nearly my sanity. It also cost me in the wallet. What fools men are. What is that makes us so easy to deceive? I've heard of thinking with your dick, but I never thought I would fall into that trap. The very sorry, sad thing is that after twenty years, If he called me up now, I would go to him. Thankfully he has not. I still do not trust myself around this man. When you've grown up without normal, natural feelings, just feeling anything is a huge temptation. I know I'm destroyed. I haven't been sane since I was five or so. The friendly neighborhood pederasts made certain of that. And all the fine folks at church made it even worse. If you wonder why I hate Morman's so, look no farther. It apparently is not adultery if you have a little boy sucking you off. The rest I will not get into here. The really great thing about my life at that point is when I tried to say 'no.' I was ostracized. I was not a good Morman boy then. I know my father knew of this, and I suspect my brother's did also. I was alone. I am not perfect, I will freely admit that, but walk a mile in my shoes first. Can you imagine coming up on your 8th birthday and your baptism when you have been sexually active for three years? And with most of the 'Elder's' present. I truly felt I was going to hell when I stepped in the water.

I don't know why I am sharing this now, but I just don't want to hold back anymore. This is me, folks, I'm not going to apologize anymore. I know I can be a tool at times, but I was forged that way.

Yours, from the either.

Been awhile, I know.

I have been totally consumed with writing lately. I had an idea for a short story which is rapidly becoming a Tad Williams type of novel. I can't seem to tear myself away from the characters. They are all me of course, the better parts of me (and yes, there is such a thing) and every time I get to the keyboard, they do strange and wonderful things. They also have a lot of sex, so that part is definitely made up, but I do remember what having sex was like..It's been twenty years or so, but some things do stick in your memory. If Sam Elliot wants to volunteer, I will try and remember the moves.

Life has not been exactly perfect lately. I am so far into my fantasy life now that I really am losing touch with reality. But what is real? The good parts or the bad? How about if none of it is real? I perform no useful part of society now. Other than being an Orwellian consumer, I have no function. I can go for weeks without leaving the house whatsoever. I put on a sweatshirt four days ago, that has been my major accomplishment. It may not seem like much, but try it when you can only use one arm.. I wouldn't have bothered, but it has been cold in the evenings here, and I am awake at nights. I truly desperately long for my own tropical island where I don't have need of clothing at all, and no one is around to see what deformities I have. Let me tell you something from the heart. Scars don't heal. The entire left side of my body looks like I've been hit by a train, and the right side of my torso has not recovered from the tubes and surgeries there, either. Worse, they all itch. My backscracther is probably my most prized possession these days.

This is not meant to be a pity-fest. I'm actually in a pretty decent frame of mind. I'm crazy, most certainly, I could hardly deny that, but I am creating, I am giving life to a page. I've always written, even after thirty years of law practice, I was writing then also. People would pour out their pain to me, and I would take it in like a sponge and write it out for the Court's consideration. I may no longer have any viability in that area, but I did kick some ass. The North County Judges knew when they were going to get my papers. I may be in forced disgrace now, but there isn't a court clerk around who doesn't know me. If you can file a last minute paper and get a Judge to actually laugh on the bench in open court, you've done your job. The one thing I regret about not being employed is being of use. I was in a position of helping people once. I made a difference in their lives. It took it's toll. No alcoholic should ever go into this profession, the burn out ratio is huge, but I kept a sure head. Now I sit at home in the dark and quietly remember the horrors of my life. Is it any wonder I write fiction?

Yesterday was the birthday of a childhood friend. We've known each other since kindergarten, and he was probably the first semi-adult relationship I'd had sexually. He hasn't spoken to me in over twenty years. Apparently I managed to piss him off to that point. He went from visiting me down here at my expense and trying to put the moves on my then lover, to disappearing from the face of the planet when it came to me. I do not understand this. Perhaps I never shall. I am probably not the best one to speak of these matters, but it hurts when someone you love turns their back on you forever. "Oh. those thirty years we spent in close confidence, they're over now." He probably blames me for his sexual circumstance. A lot of people do. I have always been 'out there.' I've never cared what the packaging was, as long as the gift was inside. I have loved my share of women, and I have loved my share of men. I am truly an equal opportunity employer. The only problem I have ever had with this is when I can not reciprocate. I will literally thrown down my life for people that I love, but that doesn't mean I will have sex with them. This confuses people, and I've made a number of enemies over the years.

I'm very easy to understand, actually. Win my friendship and you've won me for life. I don't have any boundaries. When I love, I do so unconditionally. Not sexually perhaps, I still have a great many hang-ups in that area which come from being used as a sexual tool when you are are six, but I do try.

That's it from the either now.