Matilda, adulting, and situational depression.

 So, there's this song.....

And it's on the Matilda soundtrack.  

It's brilliant altogether, as is the entire play.   

But this song, WHEN I GROW UP, rarely fails to stir emotions.  Singing along in the car, and Tim Minchin (wrote the play and the music for it) swerves you,  and your throat closes up a bit and......

Sneaky bastard.....

• My dad has covid.
• last week it was my sister in law, before that it was my brother.
• my girlfriend, whom I love, is just coming off 14 days isolating.  thank god she's ok, at least. she was told she had been exposed at work.  who in turn would not pay her to stay home until she found out if she had it or not.....
• My mom's been in the hospital for 6+ weeks, with very serious, non-covid related issues.  

I mention all of this not for sympathy, but more to highlight that this is where a whole bunch of our lives are at right now, every day.   

             When I grow up,
                I will be strong enough to carry all the heavy things You have to haul around with you
                When you're a grown up

And isn't it all just exhausting?

I fully realize that my list, while seeming like a LOT to ME, is likely not as severe a list as many of you have at the moment.    

But I hit a wall, this morning, after talking with my dad, and listening to him sound ok, and listening to him breathe well, and talk about conference call with his doctors, and such.

hung up, and just lost my shit.

by myself.

at my desk.

in my living room.

My sis, god love her ( I certainly do ), simply reminded me that adulting is very hard right now.  

                And when I grow up 
                I will be brave enough to fight the creatures that you have to fight
                Beneath the bed each night
                to be a grown up

Talked at length with a coworker yesterday.  As has been the case of late, you start out talking about work, then just catch up with one another, because you've not seen nor spoken to them in quite awhile, and you USED to share your lives with one another, and enjoyed doing so....

He mentioned a situation with his dad, similar to my mom's.   And uncertainty and frustration and all the stuff that goes along with THAT, in the midst of family members dealing with covid.

I shared my situation.    He asked me if I knew what situational depression was, because he's finding himself struggling with it for the first time in his life.

And the lightbulb went off.

Yeah, buddy!

  

I know what that is.  It's been 2 years since I last recognized it in myself, and was 3 years before THAT when I really became familiar with the concept...

the pure joy of feeling that recede, when the situation that's causing it resolves itself, is... wonderous.

But, fuck.   it's a pandemic.  When will THIS situation resolve itself?

adulting is very hard right now.

To refer to Matilda again,  the heavy things and the monsters are... heavier, and more monstrous than we ever thought we'd have to deal with, I'm guessing.

day

after

day

after 

day.....

                And when I grow up
                    I will be smart enough to answer all the questions
                    That you need to know the answers to
                    Before you're grown up

Turns out... nope.   Not even close. 

 

At least I didn't wake up on the day of the final after not going to class all term... just dreamt that I did.....

My brain. Or: The hundred things you end up doing, while taking care of two simple tasks.....

So, my brain. 

 

Can’t wait for what comes next, can you?  I know!!!!

It IS exciting.

 

While working from home today, I had a very short list of things I wanted to accomplish ‘round here, whilst working. 

Lunch hour stuff…  each of which, as written, should take 10 minutes or less…..

Simple, direct, real, touchable, chores.  Like…two of them……

but... my brain.....

The personal grooming chore resulted in:

• The emptying and re-organizing my medicine cabinet, and to a lesser extent, my linen closet. 
• Throwing out expired… everything. 
• And aprox. 4 plastic electric toothbrush head covers. 
• And a big handful of ancient hotel toiletries.
• Throwing all towels in laundry.
• Cleaning my bathroom
• A shopping list for razor blades and toothbrush heads and toilet bowl cleaner and dryer sheets and……
• As of yet no personal grooming. (amended: i'm clean, shorn, and shiny now!)

 

Clean linens for my daughter’s bed before she arrives for the weekend resulted in:

• finding many drawing utensils. Thankfully not with my bare feet.  Someone has some work to do when she’s here this weekend…..
• Started to get an idea to re-organize her entire room.  Made myself stop.
• Two loads of laundry I hadn’t thought to include today,  WHICH in turn resulted in:
• Me cleaning off my dryer, putting everything that’s accumulated there (it’s right inside my back door) in trash or correct location
• Cleaning off kitchen table and throwing table cloth in wash. 
• Organizing / recycling everything on the table that had collected there over the last couple of weeks
• Happy discovery of a dryer full of clean and dry clothes 
• Which now will be added to what has to be folded and put away…
• Actually putting clean linens on my daughter’s bed. (Score!)

Used to catch grief, both as a child AND an adult, on the regular, for it taking “too long” for me to complete chores.  Not for NOT doing them.  For NOT doing them fast enough.  

More often than not... not an issue. 

But on occasion…

Obviously I was just screwing around or not working fast enough because it was something I didn’t want to do.  OBVIOUSLY… 

   

Maybe not…..

Anyone else?    Anyone else  find they circle waaaaaayyyyy ‘round to take care of a couple things, and end up taking care of like… nine OTHER things, but in an asymmetrical, seemingly (to the untrained eye) random manner?   

How’s that working out? Everyone a fan?

 

I let the critter out today.   I could have put the effort in to tamp down the focus issues. 

But goddamn, I was getting a lot done, so I abdicated control, at least enough.   Fly, be free!!!!

 Not like I was NOT also work-working my butt off...... 

I'm thankful that, when realizing what was going on, I was able to CHOOSE, today.   

Even if I still need to shave my head and take a shower.  (amended:  see above. I'm not an animal...)

In my now ridiculously clean bathroom, with it's very organized medicine cabinet, and freshly laundered bath towels….

 

I'm thankful that, as an adult, I recognize these issues exist in myself, and that I mostly know when it's happening, so I can adjust accordingly. 

If I want....

 

Odd and entertaining stories, Prima Facie.

 

 Might swerve y'all at the end a bit, today.    Have we met?   

Just sayin' - stick around 'til the credits.

following tale is best understood, if you know ahead of time that I, nor my girlfriend, have ever been to the town described below.....

Wandered into a shoe store with my girlfriend, this past weekend, whilst walking the main drag of a small, sleepy beach town up the coast.  it was the kind of shoe store you'd expect to find on the main drag of a sleepy beach community, mixed in with multiple bike shops and oh-so-rugged outfitters.. 

After way too many minutes of awkward, at best, customer service, ending with me assuring her I could put my old shoe back on all by myself, my salesperson met me at the counter to ring me up. 

"Phone#?"

I gave it to her, without thinking about why she was asking.  habit, at this point.

"There's no rewards account under that number."

Oh.  THAT's why she was asking.  mighta mentioned that first.....

"Maybe they're attached to your wife's phone#?"

the fuck?!?

"Uh, I'm not married."

"Oh, I didn't mean to assume and...." random blustering...

"don't worry about it."  (Fuck, I want to get outta here....)

"It's just that I know I've seen your friend(nods toward my girlfriend) in here a few times before, so I figured.."

What, now she's just blatantly lying, and poorly?  for no reason?!?! what the hell?

"we don't have rewards.  what's my total?"

a minute later, I'm outside on the sidewalk, and am sharing conversation with my girlfriend, who stubbornly refuses to change her story about never having shopped in the shoe store in the town she's never been to.

I figure I can use some variation of "Were you off sneak-shoe shopping up north again?!?" about....3-4 times before it's not funny anymore.  

But I'm gonna have to really nail it, each time.

………………………………

Received a text last night, from a local # I did not recognize.   Someone had just heard the great news, and apparently this person just KNOWS my partner and I are going to be great parents!!!!

okay.....

Texted back:  Who are you trying to reach?

Which to.. fuck, a LOT of people, would be a red flag, ESPECIALLY if you were expecting "Thank you, we're so excited!!!!" or whatever...   

nope. 

She promptly told me, and then mentioned something about when I was young, I think, and then texted me a series of pictures of what I can only assume were of "me" as a baby.  boom boom boom, one after another after another...

I appear to have been a happy little girl. 

After several texts in, like... 8 seconds, I texted her back that I was not that individual, and that I would delete the text and the photos.

only response?

"good to know."

My girlfriend reminded me that we agreed on no babies, and I was indeed pregnant... she's outta here...

 

…………

Awhile back, I was pumping gas, when an older guy called out to me.  He looked like he just got off the golf course, and that he likely played several times a week.  He was standing by the next gas pump down from mine.

"What's the zip code, here?"

"Here? in __________?" I answer, stupidly, caught off guard by the random opening.

"Yes, of course here!" he said, irritated by my response.

"But, sir, you need to give the machine YOUR zip code..."

He looked at me like I was simple.  bless my little heart....

"I'm not stupid. I live here in ___________!!!"

I was the fucking idiot, but HE couldn't remember his own zip code. 

And couldn't be bothered to look at his license or anything he might have in his glove box....

and assumed some rando at the gas station would know it.  

but I'm the goddam simpleton in the tale he tells....

…………………….

I shared these odd and entertaining little stories, today, instead of writing about the election, and all the ridiculous bullshit that lead up to it, and continues to come after.  

I might rant write about it specifically, sometime soon.  When I've greater confidence it will come out coherently. 

 

I share these odd and entertaining little stories because they illustrate a partial answer to "How can so many seemingly normal people still support him / buy into all this ridiculous shit?" 

 

This is how.

 

and... scene.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gruel, Andy Dufresne, and a scary halloween story.

Namaste, magnificent beasts. 

It's Saturday morning, my daughter's still asleep, I've got a half cup of extremely good coffee...

Let's drive it like it's stolen.

 

That sounds so badass.  Time to underwhelm.

 First, a scary tale.

 

It's Halloween. and the election's in 4 days, and there's a pandemic, and I wake up most days and say a little prayer that my job will last another couple years, at least.  

Boo!   scary!  

But it's the reality on the ground.  It's our world, at the moment.  And I'm no longer limber enough to bend far enough over to stick my head all the way into the ground, so...

After two straight nights of insomnia, I gave up Thursday morning, sneaking out of bed and bedroom in hopes that my absence would secure my girlfriend another hour or two of sleep.

I was scheduled to work a 2nd shift on the factory floor later in the day, - conscripted more accurately. And still had to keep on top of the job they actually pay me to do. 

Which meant that this little experiment in keeping production costs down was fucking up my third daughter weekend in a row.   While I understand the logic behind the decision, I don't have to like it.

I just have to show up. 

At least the physical recovery time has gotten better.   I'm not sore for days any more....

Being sad and exhausted and dreading the day to come, is not necessary the best time to reflect on one's life, as it turns out.

the things you learn.

"Thin".

That's what I came up with, eyes welling up, on the couch the other morning at 5:30.  Judge if you want.  Glass houses and all that....

 

Life's gotten kinda of fucking thin, this year. 

The spices and herbs and yummy chunks of things are missing from the stew.

Anyone else dealing with this? 

betcha.

The stuff that used to balance the other stuff is simply absent now.  And the potential new stuff is like... artificial sweetener.  a veggie burger patty.  Little Ceasar's pizza....

virtual FB live concerts, church via zoom...  a hundred other similar things....

They are what they are, but they're not like the "real things" they're replacing.

So it's all starting to feel a little gruel-y.   Or more likely, it's been getting gruel-y for awhile, and I simply noticed and gave it a name.

So:  "Thin" - anyone?

Conversely, anyone else, besides my anti social hermit friends, feel like their lives have become full, compared to 10 months ago?    Or at the very least, NOT LESS full? 

Concerts and restaurants and hugs and church with real people and beers with friends and.....  anyone happy to be done with all of THAT?

Gruel is not the comfort, that stew was.   And it's a time right now where feeling comforted is a lot harder to come by than it used to be.  

Anyone wanna toss me an amen on that one? 

• But my morning of discontent is 48 hours old. 
• my daughter is awake  (subs "what's for breakfast?" for "good morning" sometimes, but I'll keep her).  I'm happy with the time I DO have with her this weekend.
• sun's out
• coffee's phenomonal
• Girlfriend and I will be safely socializing with others later.  maybe playing a little guitar around a fire
• Girlfriend. 💜💜💜   
• fall splendor

Maybe not too gruel-y after all...

 

I've had constant reminders the last couple of weeks, about what happens when you give up.

when you simply stop bothering.   Whether by intent or by gradual accident.

A never-ending cautionary tale, if you will.

It shook the shit out of me, to say the least, and continues to.

 

        "Guess it comes down to a simple choice.  Get busy living, or get busy dying." 

 

Not such a simple choice for everyone, as it turns out.    But for me....

I accept the gruel.  mmmm…. Gruel.  more please!  

And I will continue to work toward thickening  and flavoring it up again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lindsey graham. cracker. whatever.

Yeah, so about 8.5 years ago, I had lunch with Lindsey Graham.

What a great first line. It just pulls you the fuck IN.

My gig at the time was all about the northern border. There were northern border trade conferences twice annually, In DC and Ottawa. (possibly the most beautiful city in North America)

Lindsay was our lunchtime entertainment, in DC, mere weeks after I started the gig. It was sponsored by TransCanada.   Lindsey was snake-oil oil salesman that day, in the charming, vaguely condescending southern way he used to have... You just wanted to sit close so you could hand him a fresh napkin every couple minutes when he soaks the previous one in drool.

It could have gotten way darker, way faster.   You're welcome.

He was positively gleeful about... Chavez(I think) in Brazil's recent announcement that he had terminal cancer…. OIL!!!!!! precious glorious Oil.... napkin, please.

tar sands...pipeline....dammit. napkin!!!

You're welcome, again.    Goddam, you've already got your money's worth.

Anyhow, he wasn't really on my political radar before then.  But since I met the guy, and watched him in action, I started paying attention, and have continued to do so.

I liked him, when he was voice or reason Robin to McCain's VOR Batman.  how could you not like an occasional voice of reason on the right, when such things were becoming damn scarce?

 

But then batman got sick, and eventually died, reclaiming some maverick kharma points, on his way out.

And Robin, without a benefactor, and without an alpha male to be brave with, didn't know what to do.

Solo, he was kinda on the small side, and not used to playing the lead role...

Alright, midstream, without warning, I'm gonna switch to a different metaphor or analogy or comic book parable or whatever I was on about, above.

Ready?

 

                    It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal. - AA Milne

Need a sec? The rest of us will wait for you.  

We're all cool AF.

 

I think it was in a Dale Carnegie class, where I learned that all the 100 acre wood cast, could be found in a professional setting.   I dissented on their notion, however, that Eeyore was a bad guy. if you've ever read the original stories... he's just so awesome...

Mr. Graham, is... Piglet.   And it was easier for him to be brave, when he had pooh. And when he no longer had pooh, and being that he was very small, he cast about, and found... tigger's psycho uncle.

I dunno.  sometime analogies are hard and stuff.

But i'm pissed.  Not like, hop up and down and make a ruckus- pissed, but more "this fucking guy needs a napkin" pissed.  he's drooling again.   if you're lucky.

See, the seemingly endless depths of hypocrisy undertook boldly and right in your face by some southern elected officials is... mind boggling. Smile for the camera.

I thought, for a few years there, that he was better than that. 

Turns out... It is hard to be brave, when you're only a Very Small Animal. 

a weak, small animal.

 

 

 

Pod Dad In Pants.

So, today I'm Pod dad, for first time.
And I'm working from home.
And my daughter spent the night, so I was all NOT pod dad, waking her up at a set time for the first time in many months to get ready.

Turns out, she's kinda gotten used to waking up whenever.
Weird.

I have a good handle on my focus issues, overall.
Once in a great while, I find myself (sometimes literally) spinning in circles, when the inputs are too great.
Last time this happened, was when I was trying to unpack everything, after moving into my house a year ago.
So many things, which one to do first, wait I don't know where power strip is so I can't unpack what I planned to unpack yet, and.... we're spinning... we're spinning...
    
              circles....my head is going 'round in circles, my mind is caught up in a whirpool, dragging  me down.....

Pete Townshend knows stuff.

So, yeah. This morning. Not a great look for me.

Thank god I've a small, efficient little house. means walking back and forth NOT getting stuff done doesn't take very long.....

I do generally get there, eventually.

Daughter had breakfast and was wearing clothes and had fresh breath by the time the other kids showed up.

car's half packed for my weekend away, which starts as soon as the kids leave.

I'd still like to get some more things accomplished in the next two hours, but have happily arrived at the point where I dont HAVE to.
Kids worked for almost an hour. then we had gym class. (walked 'round the 'hood for 30 minutes). Then the next hour, and then grilled cheese sandwiches.
  Cuz... duh. Grilled cheese sammies..

My two 8th graders have crazy amount of work, via the virtual learning academy.
My 4th grader was done in an hour, and will be self-studying german language once lunch break is over.

I love these kids.
Mine, for obvious reasons, and the others cuz they've been part of our lives for 4 years.
They were talking about being honorary siblings on our walk. They're not wrong.

So I try to get work done, without lobbing F bombs at my laptop constantly. It's not natural for me, after the last 6 or so months.
Neither are.. pants.
And apparently, drumming frenetically on my desk is "distracting".
whatever.
whiners.
New Normal... constantly evolving.
And if it means I can't motherfuck my laptop while not wearing pants, one day a week... i'll gladly make the sacrifice, if it helps keep the kids I love safe.     

Covid bookends. You, too?

action....

"Covid caused my favorite coffee place to close down. And they've now reopened, but with reduced hours.
Which is too bad, because now that I'm working from home, because of covid…."

Hits self in head with palm of hand.
Again.

and...scene.

Covid bookend statement.

just another manifestation of our struggle to wrap our heads around our new, and ever-changing reality. same things mixed with same things but different, mixed with new things, and lack of old things... I got a throbbing pain behind my right eye, just typing that.

and honestly, at least for me, a display of not-great mix of privilege and laziness.
Hey, I KNOW I'm lucky to be working remotely. I've not lost sight of that.
and I've been lazy since birth.
about things I CAN be lazy about, at least.
LIKE GRINDING GODDAMN COFFEE AT 11 AT NIGHT!!!!!!!!!!
for example.


anyhow...


I could stop at a couple of great places at 6:30a on a weekday, five minutes from my house, on my way to work.

BEFORE.

and I'm signed into my computer at the same time, here in my living room, that I did when I commuted...
but I only have chain coffee options available to me now, to grab a cup when i'm too lazy to grind, before I sit down at my desk...
the struggle is, indeed, real...


Maybe you lamented the closing of golf courses, because now that you're schedule's gotten a little more.... flexible....
no? not one of you?
or massages, or pedicures, or 24 hour walmartapalooza, or your favorite bar....???
nothing??

Only me, hitting myself in the forehead with the palm of my hand? Sitting alone on the bench outside of cafeteria, with my peanut butter sammich?

this does not pass the sniff test.

Think about it for a moment. If you honestly, truly, can't come up with a real life example, think about what your covid bookend statement might be.

No. Really. Go ahead. We'll gather back here in.. five? good? excellent.
.
.
.
.
.

Excellent.
No, I don't need to hear them. I just wanted to see if I could get you to do it.

oh, you're looking for a point, more profundity? a little swerve at the end, an abrupt change in tone?

Nah, this one is isn't one of those. Except... I'm guessing I'm not really all alone on the bench.
we're all in this together, every imperfect one of us.

Going to bed now.
You don't have to go home, but you can't... stay... here...

walking... we're walking.... we're walking... and.....

Walking's been on my mind a bit, of late.

I've done quite a lot of it, the last five or so months.
Not unusual.
Last year, I began training harder, hiking more, around mid-march, in advance of a big hiking trip.

It brings me joy.
And blisters.

I hit a plateau a few weeks ago. a mental wall. and walking's suffered a bit from it.
So again... it's been on my mind.


The dawning of the era of Fitbit, has changed how we look at stuff like... hiking. walking in the woods.
walking 'round the neighborhood on a work break.....

"4.5 miles, 9 flights of stairs, 95 minutes of target cardio exercise... That's a good walk!"

Is it? I mean, it's a decent work out, but is it a good walk?

but like with so many things, numbers only tell part of the story.

What if you add context?

Maybe it was 4.5 miles of awkwardness, first walk with someone as you transition them from dating partner to friend?

Maybe it's from the night, back in the winter, when you couldn't get the ride service apps to work, standing in the group of strangers outside the bar, all staring at their phones and complaining.

or that afternoon when the rain arrived two hours earlier than forecasted, while you were 2 miles from the car?


Maybe it wasn't such a great walk, after all.


There was something kinda satisfying, 3 months ago, to walk for the sake of walking. For the simple sake of putting one foot in front of the other, over... and over... and over.

In the time of uncertainty, this simple act... one foot in front of the other, staying on the path..... helped.
And the fitbit… helped. helped to keep score. helped to make you feel like were accomplishing something good and healthy and simple and pure, when there wasn't a lot of that going on.


the 30 minute, 1.4 mile walks... not a great walk.

Except... it's around my neighborhood. you say hi to everyone else who's walking, and there are always a lot of walkers. You watch your neighborhood... bloom. turn green, flower up. you watch gardens get planted and thrive.
You see new messages of youthful hope and solidarity written in chalk on the sidewalk.

You're... part of it. Part of something larger than yourself.



So, to sum up, five months ago, it was all about simply putting one foot in front of the other, and not getting lost.
NOW... it's about being reminded that you're a part of something bigger than yourself.

I frequently drive aimlessly around with my new girlfriend.   She's all about scenery and laughing and companionable silence.   She's all about talking, too, but doesn't worry if we aren't.

We do this so often, in the time of pandemic and social distancing, that I created an "Aimless Driving Mix" on my phone. 
of course it's awesome. 
duh.

We see angry, butch dwarves smoking cigarettes by the side of the road with  giantess'.
Monks in full monk-garb, doing yard work at their place, mystifyingly situated in a tiny blinking light town that offers nothing else.
We've seen shipwrecks in yards; Amish buggies sticking ass end out of the woods, in what appeared to be an amish version of red neck yard dump.  
An old lady standing in her large yard with a tiny bottle of round up, spraying 1/4 acre of weeds one weed at a time...…

It gets so we're a bit disappointed if we don't see SOMETHING....


Was driving in a county not my own, last night.  It's... nearby.

And one I was once more familiar with, than I am now.

Somone's spending a LOT of money on signs, in hopes that they're elected to be the county prosecuting attorney.

It seems like a miserable fucking job, ESPECIALLY in the county in question.  I'd like to be exposed to the dregs, ALL THE TIME, of a county known for... dregs. 
I want to eat, drink, sleep, fuck, breathe... the dregs of this county.  At their... dreggiest.  

(Yeah, I just made that word up.  my blog, friends.   I can do that....)


Then I wondered:  How much self righteous fury would one individual have to possess to get excited about prosecuting societal dregs for the rest of their life?

Doesn't seem like a hugger.

Several Random turns in middle of nowhere, picking pavement over dirt at various intersections, and all the sudden, I was.. there.  Upon it.    

An old, oblong, barn.  one I hadn't seen in almost 5.5 years, and hadn't thought about in as long.
It was my favorite intersection on my way to the old job.  I believe I posted pics of it, labeling it as such, at the time.    Little did any of you know that favorite intersection on my way to THAT job, was like being the nicest guy in prison....  


But there it was.
And for a moment, I experienced the same fear and depression and panic I used to experience, every morning, at that intersection.   
It was the last choice I had, every morning, back in the day. Turn left, go to hell. turn any other way, lose my job.  
Decisions, decisions...

Less than a second later, all of it had passed, and I was left, at the intersection, surprised by my visceral reaction, all these years later.    And I certainly knew which way NOT to go.

"If you were a child" the therapist told me at the end of our first session, 5.5 years ago,
"I'd have to call DCFS. You're being abused."

Maybe I should not be all that surprised by my reaction, after all.
br />

Platitudes...

Live, laugh, love.

My goodness, but that’s annoying.

My first exposure was 5/2014, upon starting the job that brought me back to MI, that was so horrendously bad, with such horrendously unpleasant coworkers, and psycho bosses, that HR apologized to me for my experience, and gave me a beyond generous severance package, if I agreed to not speak ill of them by name in public.

I was there for less than a year. 

So, maybe “Live, Laugh, Love” never really had a chance.    The nasty, mean cracker who had a needlepoint of it at her desk, and informed me it was her life motto, might have just spoiled it for me.

But, you see…. now... I'm experiencing on-line dating.

I’m on a dating app.  

And there are a LOT of women who like to use these platitudes in their profiles. 

And to be very clear - I expect lots of guys do the same.  probably not "live, laugh, love", but....

anyhow...

Every time I see “Live, Laugh, Love”…. I stop looking at their profile.  

Hard stop. 

Can’t help myself.  

One of 3-4 pics on a profile I checked out, was of these very words tattoo’d on the woman’s shoulder.     Christ.

But in case I appear to be singling this particular platitude out, let’s rush through a few more.

So…

About your school of hard knocks - Charter school?   

Oh, and “I work hard and play harder”.

How hard ARE you actually working?  Need a baseline, for comparison.   

Oh, it says here you’re currently exploring new career options. 

And honestly - Fuck your YOLO.    You’re on this earth just this one time, so LET’S GET EXTREME!!!  How does this “philosophy” make sense? “ I get one shot at this, and can live a long life suffering consequences of half-assed decision making. Fuck yeah!  bring it!”    

What behaviors are allowed and not allowed, under YOLO?  Are their guidelines written out somewhere?  what's simply living your best life, and what's living your only life with abandon?

And don’t sing like noone’s listening.    Sing like someone just might be.  Take pride in yourself. Make an effort.  Sing like you love your voice and it brings you joy.

Own that shit.

And don’t get me started on “Learning to dance in the rain” or whatever that correct platitude actually is.      

Honestly, this one’s not as bad.  Except, after I didn’t mind it the first time I saw it anywhere, it wasn’t long before I saw it… everywhere.    Why, it appeared that EVERYONE was learning to dance in the rain.

Except… when it actually rained, I never saw anyone outside, dancing.   
And I fucking looked.
   

I’m calling bullshit….

Platitudes……

Splendid Isolation, I don't need noone....

Warren Zevon's old song is rattling around in my brain pan this morning.

Actually, just the ridiculously short refrain....

Staring out my window as dark turns to gray turns to light.  I'm monitoring work emails, of which there are very few.     I await tomorrow, when I'll find out what convoluted but possibly workable plan my work has developed, and what that means to me for the next three weeks.   ditto whether or not i'll get paid.   

Basically, they're trying to gauge the mandatory stay at home against what they can argue to be essential work. 

Splendid isolation......

Crushed it sunday, in preparation for what I was lead to believe would be a monday announcement.
I was lead correctly....
Yesterday, in advance of the announcement, i made sure to be at the grocery before it opened, to make one last, grand grocery run for my mom, who's shut in.  I picked up a couple things for myself as well.   I was home by 8:30, clothes went straight into laundry, I washed hands for a day, showered for what seemed like two more and.... that was that.

Splendid isolation....

All the memes all the folks posting, omg, now we're going to find out that what our teachers go through every day, we're going to go crazy cooped up in house together, we're going to..... 

Any funny memes or posts from middle aged people who will spend the next three weeks entirely by themselves?   
OMG, HOW HILARIOUS.

yep, that's sarcasm.     
I'm likely 9-14 days away from being able to spend time with my kid, without being totally irresponsible.    If i'm lucky.

And I've a list of things i hope to accomplish, but the list vs. 21 days.... no contest.

I've a small house that I just moved into 6-7 months ago.   After moving out a year before that, with goal of maintaining a fairly minimalist life style.

I've nothing to go all Marie Kondo on, in other words.
I don't have indoor painting projects.
I don't have ANY indoor projects.
And responsibly looked at the forecast and realized I didn't need to go to hardware store at last minute to buy all the stuff I'll need to re-paint my deck.   It won't be warm enough.

You know all those funny memes about how finally introverts rule the day, and they've been training for this their whole lives and......

On the other end of the spectrum are folks already whining about how bored they are.   That's a luxury, friends.   It doesn't feel like one, but... congrats to you for being bored already. 

I wasn't bored until last night.   because until 4p last friday, i was still at work, a place that employs 3000 people, but has tech for working for home for aprox. 1.6% of that number.

And should i start to feel bored today, I can spend my time not knowing what the hell my job's going to look like after noon tomorrow, or even if I'm going to get paid.


So, three weeks, potentially spent entirely alone.

I am NOT, as it turns out, an introvert.     I embrace it, and seek it out on occasion, especially if I feel
the need to balance against excessive extroverted behavior. 

But generally speaking - I LIKE people.   

And as I began figuring out my new normal 17 months ago, I realized life was better for me with access to them. 
Not ALL the time.    But I realized I was more the person I want to be, when able to interact and play off of others.   I'm more stimulated, more creative, and can let loose with the dry wit and goofy charm, which is... intrinsically me.   It's an important part of my self-identity. 
And the kindness. 
Lots of kindness, needs people to be kind TO.

I figured it out.....     People....   Just to know that they're there, and to take advantage of them being there on fairly regular basis.   My couch, by myself, was not a treat, NOT a goal or aspiration.
But a tool for balance.

This will not be balanced. 
This will not be what makes life better for me.

My best hope is to NOT get ridiculously-to-the-point-of not-being-able-to-care-for-myself, ill.

And to NOT go crazy or become...less somehow, without the stimulation of other people.

I see friends who've lives that make it relatively simple to fully isolate with each other and their kids. They're likely doing a test run on living together.   I think it's beautiful. 

I know folks my age who've never married nor had kids, and have built full wonderful lives for themselves which have suited them well.   Until they can't do many of the things they've built a life doing....

I've a friend who's very quietly and quickly trying to get all of her kids home, so that they don't have to ride out by THEMSELVES, while not working.     I fear for her health with the exposure, but completely respect what she's trying to do.   Taking care of her kids is how she's been wired forever.   And I know they'll make the best of it, even if it'll be a strain on her toilet paper supply.

My daughter's worried about going crazy at home for next three weeks, but she's got a house full of amusements and distractions; and her mom and her mom's boyfriend.   


So. 
21 days.

with a thin project list, and a list of daily goals that while being healthy and helping me toward the lifestyle I want, don't take much time, don't eat enough clock....

And a vague fear of simply falling through the cracks.   
Wonder whatever happened to Patrick, he's not been on facebook for a bit......

Of taking long walks and waving to strangers from a safe distance, and THAT being my social life for the day. 

Of re-reading a lot of books.

Of practicing the guitar - a lot.   

In other words, of trying to maintain a routine of sorts, with way less to MAKE a vibrant routine, than is optimal.

Of deciding what to do and what to put off in the moment, so as not to have ALL the day's excitement happen at once. 

ex:  I'm waiting to shave until later. 

It's going to be the best damn shave I've given myself in weeks.  it will take no fucking time at all.


21 days.

Of hoping to simply survive it, alone. 

Sunday morning. Coffee, dying laptops, the disintegration of democracy, maybe a nice scone.....

It's a weekend morning, I've a full cup of coffee, and I'ma just gonna let it rip, until my daughter wakes up.

In the last 16 months, I've started dozens of pieces this exact same way.   With the occasional curse word thrown in for tone and voice.

When one writes, even if you're not sure there will ever be an audience, you should still write with one in mind. 
None of that "Dance like nobody's watching" stuff, here, my friends.

Laptop's dying, so every time I complete something, is a victory.   You're 6 paragraphs in, and all the sudden your cursor.... moves.  several lines / paragraphs up, and you're typing away and eventually realize something's gone wrong.
again.


Something went wrong again this week.    Our democracy crumbled a bit more. 

You knew, going in, that the game was rigged.   You KNEW there would not be due process, a fair trial, etc.   You fucking KNEW it.

And you realize that once again, your two choices are to not pay attention, not care, not...hope.

Or.....

You decide to let Lucy hold the goddamn football for you again, because maybe, just maybe, this time.... she won't pull it away.   

"Sure I knew the game was fixed.   But it was the only game in town."   - Canada Bill Jones

The above is not a direct quote.   The larger historical context has someone asking him why he played the game, if he knew it was fixed.

"It's the only game in town."

I've only been paying attention to politics for 30-35 years.

All I remember, for instance, about the Nixon impeachment trial, is that it pre-empted Bugs Bunny, the single best part about getting home after a rough day of afternoon kindergarten.

I vaguely remember feeling like it went on for a long time. 
Maybe they allowed for witnesses and evidence.   

To see the big" fuck you, america", time after time after time, from Mitchie, while being told my so many (mostly uninformed and generally angry) that this is awesome and great because.... winning!... I'm simply at a loss, at this point. 

So, here we are.  Planning to show our outrage, maybe.   Planning to work hard to get someone else elected / get people to the polls / etc.   
or not.

Maybe you're just drinking coffee and staring at the gorgeous sunrise, and feeling like all it's kinda pointless and... broken.     Hopefully you'll pull up your big boy pants in a few days, and... once more into the fray.

it's the only game in town.


There are clear signs of children stirring in the room down the hall.  So my time here is limited.

Unless, by some miracle, my daughter and her friend come out of the room in a few minutes, and ask "What can we make YOU for breakfast? No, no.  Don't get up.   We got this..."

That would be... quite something.

A random thought from New Normal Land

Random Thoughts from New Normal Land.

So, heard a great story this morning, from a co-worker, from back when he was a team leader on the production floor. 

It was his birthday, and the team he lead all wished him happy birthday as the shift began. 
When they all came back from lunch break, his youngest team member, whom he described as being a very nice young woman, handed him a big cookie from the cafeteria, and wished him happy birthday again.   

“.Hey, that's really nice, thanks.......”

Next day, he gets in, and checks emails, and finds that the team member in question, had been suspended pending investigation, for theft. 
Yep.    

Theft of a big-ass cookie from the cafeteria. 

She had stolen his birthday present, and lost her job over a $2.00 cookie. 


And should the opportunity present itself, that’s the kind of big love I want to find.

Someone who will risk prosecution to acknowledge my birthday. 

That's just so damn beautiful... 

☺

Don't fight against the lean.

“Don’t fight against the lean.”

I had accepted an offer for a ride to class on the back of motorcycle, from a guy named Hugh, I think.  Some incongruous name for our age and time.  I remember him as kinda awkward, but nice enough, and you got a sense that he was maybe a quietly cool guy, if you ended up hanging out together for any length of time…

I was 20, and hopping on the back of a motorcycle for the first time. 

I acted like it was no big deal.   Duh.

Hugh: skinny, longish blonde hair and horn rimmed glasses, had just showed up one day.  I’m sure the reality of it is a bit more detailed, but I have no idea of the origin story at this point in my life, so…. He just showed up one day.

And I hopped on the back of his bike, not very convincingly I expect, and we sped off. 

I had a death grip on the small handles, one on each side of the rear seat, should, say, you NOT want to hold onto the dude in front of you on the bike…

And then he took the first turn at speed, and we started tilting, and leaning, and I was quite sure we were going to lose the bike and get some nasty road rash, and…. We never did. 

I was just starting to relax a bit and enjoy the ride, a sunny spring day from one side of campus to the other, when we were at my destination.  I hopped off, again not convincingly, and thanked him for the ride.

“No problem.  But next time, don’t fight the lean.”

Hadn’t a fuckin’ clue what he was on about. 

“Explain.”

By not leaning into the turns as he was doing, I was making it harder for him to control the bike.    He went into a bit more detail, but….  I understood. 

Don’t fight against the lean. 

Got it.

By pure coincidence, I’ve never been on a bike since.

I remember he stayed at school that summer, as it was also the first summer I opted not to go home.  I don’t recall hanging out all that much.

One thing stands out…

I registered only that it was really fucking late, when my roommate let herself in.  And then I went back to sleep.

She was still out cold, when I got up to go to work.    We finally reconnected that evening.

She, basically, asked me to guess where she had been the night before. 

Uh…..  I had no idea.

Seems Hugh, if that was his name, had stopped by unexpectedly the afternoon before.  He was looking for me, because He had an extra ticket to Dylan, maybe the Dylan & The Dead tour(?).

Since I was not there, he asked my roommate to go instead.  And SHE….. her mom lived a few blocks away, so borrowed her nice car and they hauled ass to Indianapolis for the show.

But…but….but…..  fuck.    

But then I asked myself how he and I would have had to get ourselves the three hours south down I-69.

Oh, and back….

And I didn’t mind it as much. 

Don’t fight against the lean.  

I racked my brains, and I cannot remember a time I ever saw him, after that. 

Why the random nostalgic musings?  

Toward what possible profound conclusion are you taking the scenic route?

Whoa! Just…whoa.

Have we met?  I always take the fucking scenic route.

Honestly, random shit just pops in there.  Usually, initially, as words.   I’m sitting on a deck chair, in shorts and a heavy hoodie, looking at my yard and the night sky, and… POP!

“don’t fight against the lean.”

And that triggers the larger context, hopefully, or at least a desire to ponder upon it a bit to see what you can stir up. 

in this case, a random tale used to offer up a good piece of life advice, but in a non-assuming way that allows you, the reader, to apply meaning to it that works for YOU.
or not. 

And I just like the way it sounds.