My Sick Mind

To my recollection, I have had one blind date in my lifetime.  I’d guess that it was circa 1980, and a group of friends decided that they’d had enough with my singleness. I was told that “we have a lot of single women in our church” and that I would be in line to go out with bunches of them.  OK. So, they set the first one up. It would be me, her, and two other couples for a night out. Great. I’m not good in single-person situations, so it’ll be nice to have others to bounce the conversation off. The night started at a friend’s house, where they extolled my virtues to this unsuspecting woman. She wasn’t anything spectacular, but then, neither am I. So I figured I’d play it out and see how it goes. Once we finished the “character-building” portion of the night, we all went out bowling. Great. Bowling. Nothing like bowling. It gave me a chance to be kind of funny, and still blend into the surroundings. I’m a decent enough bowler, and nobody really cares anyway, so what the ...

If you believe, as I do, that the Universe is endless and that we are just one of many here, then you’ll get where I’m coming from. I have never really felt as though I belong here.  If there are countless solar systems in countless Universes, then it’s possible that I could be a mistaken parcel here on this Earth. Right? Certainly. And as such, I’ve felt for a great time that I may be a misplaced “alien” on this planet. I feel as though I would have been more at home in a different home.  This one hasn’t been all that great. Somebody in dispatch sent my order to the wrong galaxy. Every day that I am here, I believe that more and more. The decisions I make, the life I lead, the way I conduct myself all seem right to me, but society has had differing viewpoints on their acceptability. I feel as though I was assigned here with no capabilities or knowledge of the world that has been assigned to me. So instead, I muddle through, accepting the “society” as the norm, when in fact, I...

In recent years, I have deeply soured on the idea of God and heaven.      I wasn’t always the most devout follower to begin with, having been forced to attend Summer Bible School when I should have been enjoying a summer away from regular school.  At least that’s how I figured it.  What am I doing in a church basement making popsicle-stick coasters while listening to Bible verses, when I could be listening to my Beatles albums or swimming in the lake.      After all, He took my father from me, and left me stranded in this space, so what did I owe Him?      It wasn’t some self-inflicted death, either. It was heart disease that took my dad at the age of 47, so the manufacturer produced a flawed product.  And He didn’t make doctors smart enough to fix it. I was made to look after myself in my formative years, with no siblings or male influence to build on.  It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to a kid, but it cer...

I would like to own a gun, but I would have to keep the bullets somewhere else.  I wouldn’t want the temptation of finishing my life at the whim of a bad set of circumstances. I don’t trust myself with myself. It does concern me, though - death. Mostly how and when, now that the “with someone or alone” debate has been decided. Wondering if it’s going to be a lingering disease, or something more quick and to the point?  If I linger like my mother did, I’ll be a burden to myself and others, and the final five or six years won’t be “living” in its truest sense. Perhaps what bothers me the most about it all is that my current active lifestyle will come to a crashing halt at some point sooner than later.  I’m 68 now, and pushing myself to the point where I ask myself “why are you doing this to yourself?”  To go from that to nothing will be a mental strain that I don’t know if I could handle. Which is another reason why I should not own a gun. As an only c...

To paraphrase the great John Riggins: “I’m bored, I’m broke, and I’m back.” Maybe not broke, but certainly bored. I was reminded that this forum existed recently, and maybe I can fill the empty hours here, as I did almost twenty years ago. Twitter ( X ) is short shrift for ranting. My Facebook account was hacked and stolen. I guess someone really wanted my cat photos. Instagram isn’t the proper forum for ranting. They just want pretty photos and little comments. That’s not me. I don’t know if this is me or not, but it’s more me than any of that other stuff. So, here we are. It’s likely that these posts could be morbid in nature, since I have been assessing my life (and death) over the past few years. Embracing my mortality will be useful, and I encourage it. Mom died several years ago. As the only child, I was the primary caregiver. That responsibility has been removed from me, and as great a burden as that was to lift, it left me with nobody to directly care for. By this time in l...

There was a post on Twitter … ahem … X today from the Phillies. It showed some kids holding up their cell phones at Bryce Harper, with the caption “Remember.” Which, of course, got me to thinking. If we’re running around with our cell phones out, recording every possible encounter, are we remembering it later or just being reminded of it?  There is a huge difference. When I was a kid - in the 1960s - we didn’t take a lot of family photos, and the only time dad’s movie camera came out was at Christmas, where he could blind me with the giant spotlights in my face. The point is, I remember that stuff. All that stuff from my childhood. I remember it. I didn’t put it on YouTube or attach it to an Instagram story.  It happened to me, and it’s in my memory. That’s part of what remember means. “Hey, you remember that time we did that thing?” “Yeah - I got it all on video.” But mostly they say “filming” which is odd, since we haven’t used film in decades, and most of the kids saying “...

 I would have thought that going through the death of my mother would be just “another experience,” but as usual, my assumptions were incorrect. She died almost a year ago - August - and the effects of watching her demise and ultimately watching her die have made irreparable impressions on me. I was a child of nine years when my father died. He died at home, in our living room, and I watched it. The slow, impenetrable loss of life made an impression, but it wasn’t until many years later that it would make itself known. As a kid, I had no understanding of death - what it was, how it happened, or what happens afterward. I remember feeling almost nothing, and later feeling like something had changed, but I wasn’t certain what. Eventually, it dawned on me that I no longer had a father, or a father-figure. Mom tried to replace that with friends and family, but I was already too shut-off from people that I couldn’t accept their gestures. I don’t know if they were awkward or if it was my ...

If you’re old - like me , you remember buying stereo equipment. And, like me, you remember spending a lot of money on what looked like great stereo equipment, only to find that it was ... well ... mediocre stereo equipment. In the 1970s, we knew what the “Good Stuff” was. McIntosh, Marantz, high-end Sony - the stuff that we saw in Stereo Review magazine. Those full-page ads with mouth-drooling stuff that we couldn’t afford if we took-out a small business loan. All I can remember is seeing that stuff, and knowing that I couldn’t afford it, and going to a low-end stereo store (like at the Mall) and buying a rack of stuff by Panasonic that came in twelve boxes, with speakers that could have substituted as furniture. If I paid $400 (1976 dollars) for a giant rack system, I felt like a winner. That was substantially better than spending $1,000 for a McIntosh amp, where I’d still have to spend another $1,500 for qualified speakers and a Dual or Audio-Technica turntable. Somehow, that Panaso...

I’ve been “retired” since July 2019. It’s been OK, although I thought I’d have time and money to do the things I’ve been wanting to do, like travel. Covid-19 did that in for me back in March. It cancelled my Phillies games, and my Philly bar visits. As a result, my days have been spent waiting for the gyms to open and searching for stuff to watch on TV. Kinda boring, as it is. I persevered for about a year-and-a-half. Had it not been for Covid, I might have searched for work earlier. As it was, I waited for the perfect opportunity to return to the workforce. Since I’ve been collecting Social Security benefits, my prospects were slim. I can’t earn more than $1850 a month, or I’d have to give back some of my benefits, and that math is too difficult for me to work on. The local CVS drug store moved-out of my neighboring complex a year ago, and I’ve been waiting to see who would move back into that space. Last month, the Dollar Tree sign went up and I jumped on the prospect. On a Wednesday...

1995 . Nearly a century ago. I was married, and figuring that the end was near.  The wife had already “forgotten” my birthday in October, and I was half-heartedly shopping for a Christmas gift that would ultimately disappoint her. I can’t recall what I bought - doesn’t matter, really - but I do remember what she had for me. It is forever etched in my memory, unlike so many other Christmas gifts past. Our tradition (such as it was) was to open gifts on Christmas Eve, supposedly to save us the fuss of the Christmas morning ritual, I don’t know, really.  We had a tree. A real one, because she insisted, so OK, we went out and I cut down a tree. The reward was pine needles in our living room. That is beside the point. Whatever I had gotten for her was brought out. I suspect it was a sweater or some other conservative, concealing article of clothing. I wouldn’t dare buy her anything suggestive like a negligee or anything from Victoria’s Secret. She had her own secret, which would b...

OK, so here we are, almost four months into this Covid-19 thingy. Where am I? Precisely where I was before it started. Right here, in my living room. Way back in March, we all thought, “It will be over soon. After all, HE said it would be done by Easter.” He, who? He. Him. The guy in the White House who still isn’t wearing a mask and has disbanded the Covid Task Force. The same Task Force that is now being led by his Vice President, who told us to pray. Yeah, that’s right. We’re supposed to pray for this to be over. I guess, that’s because it’s all they have left. Thoughts and Prayers. In other words, nothing. So, here I sit, burning citronella candles and staring at the Moon. It’s not a bad life, but it could be better. Today, Governor Murphy said that the planned “indoor dining” option was suspended indefinitely. Primarily because other states have fucked it up, and he was afraid that New Jersey would further add to the issue. I haven’t said much lately, since I don’...

Friday was my last day as a regular employee at my job.  I’ve been there 28 years. Prior to that, I worked at a company for 15 years. Those were the only two jobs I ever had.  I’ve been working since I was 18 years old, and now -- I’m not.  They call it "retirement," but it feels more like I am being laid-off with benefits.  Those benefits include health care, and a small lump-sum of money that is just enough to make me feel like I would have been better-off staying. You get the point. It’s a strange feeling. I have taken extended vacation time, but I always knew I was coming back to work. This time, the extended vacation is permanent.  I guess I should feel better about it, but I’m a firm believer that we shouldn’t tell people how to feel, and well - I don’t feel great about it. I’ll turn 62 in October, and I don’t have enough money saved to put my feet up and relax.  I feel like it’s too early to file for Social Security, and my pension isn’t enoug...

Let’s see if I can properly describe this. (Stream of consciousness posting) From the beginning, over the last year I became friends with a woman in my exercise classes. I always suspected that she was married, and after asking a few people, it turned out I was correct.  However, that didn’t deter me from continuing to be her friend, as it should not have.  She is loud, profane, fun, and smart  - and she is petite and muscular, which I find amazingly sexy. I like everything about her. Over the past several months, I found out that she was going through a lengthly divorce, and had hired a forensic accountant to examine his books, since he was stashing money away in separate accounts. “It could take a year,” she told me.  OK then, whatever, Where am I going? Last week, she invited me to go out after work with some other friends from our gym. It’s kind of a private group, and inviting me was entirely on her end. It’s kind of like a third-party invite - but I accepted it...

Robber: “Your money or your life.” [pause] Robber: “Well?” [pause] Jack Benny:  “I’m thinking it over!” That’s an old joke about being frugal. Sometimes, we are faced with that exact question, in other terms, and we have to come up with a logical answer.  Chances are, the pause will be longer than it was in the joke. The real joke is that, at some point, your money is your life. The problem with it is that you don’t always know when it will come to fruition.  My advice to young people would be, “assume that the time is tomorrow.” Generally , we go through life thinking that we will live forever and that we can continue to live the way we always have.  It’s difficult to see into the future and imagine a time when we will have to get by from week to week with nothing but what we have saved and what little the federal government will be giving us. I remember (back to my marriage again) sitting in our living room, making out checks for our bills,...

I've been following the stock market and investing for decades.  As they say, I've seen them come and go.  Rarely have I seen an IPO that has angered and incited opinion like the one of Beyond Meat (BYND) that took place last month. I don't know if it's the product, the idea that it's a "millennial" thing, or that the value of the stock has skyrocketed since its IPO, but something has set-off the ire of the investing community. I'm reading comments about how horrible the product is for our health, how it will be a flash in the pan (pun), and how it isn't any better than eating meat.  At least two of those things are fallacy. I've been eating these burgers for about a year.   Not every day, of course.  They're kind of expensive ($6 for two in the freezer section) so I generally buy a package every two weeks or so.  I enjoy the taste, and I feel good about eating something that isn't either clogging my arteries or my int...

Try as I might to conjure up some positives for this series, the images fail me greatly. Perhaps because, in the moment, they seemed positive, but in hindsight - not so much.  I don't know. Shortly after we were married, we adopted a cat.   I think I was the primary impetus for that, but I'll share the credit, since the cat clung to her immediately, and to me eventually. In March, after six months of marriage and seemingly devoid of adding a human child to the fold, we decided to go to the local Animal Shelter to find a cat to make our lives complete. I focused on a 7-year-old who had attracted my attention. Meanwhile, a tiny black kitten had clung himself to her sweater, refusing to give-in.  "OK, I guess we'll take him." "Well - what about this guy?" I asked as I peered into his furtive glance. "No. Just one." I had to say goodbye to the old man who had won my heart.  It wasn't the first time that I had to give-in to some...

Oh - let's see - what else?  There were good times, too I guess.  As the song goes, "too few to mention." We had that natural "honeymoon period," even though there was never an actual honeymoon.  That's right.  We planned as minimalist a wedding as one could plan - on mostly our own dime - and afterward, retired to our new home to collapse in two heaps. I suppose, in retrospect, I could have annulled the marriage early on under the guise of it being non-consummated?  But then, I was never one to demand sex - or anything else, for that matter. I proposed to her on her birthday.  Not a bit clever, I suppose, but then - what else?  I took her to a nice dinner at The Riverview in Carney's Point (luxurious for New Jersey) and even got down on one knee after dinner to spring my big-time $300 diamond engagement ring on her.  She figured something was up.  We had been dating for about a year-and-a-half, and I guess we both figured, "it's now...

I think I mentioned that I was tempted along the way.  Yeah, I'm certain I did, and I'm certain I was. Once before and once after.  One I wish I had gone with and one I am happy that I did not. The One Before: I do not remember when exactly it was during my time with my future ex-wife that it happened.  It was certainly after she left the company that we had both worked for, and in one of those periods where I felt like maybe - we weren't meant to be together. My company hired a woman - Gisele - and I could tell you her surname if I remembered how to spell it.  Geisele, if memory serves.  Anyway, I thought  Gisele was a beautiful name, and she differed.  "Call me GG," she demanded, and so I did, although I would occasionally throw-in a Gisele, because I liked the way it sounded.  And, I liked the way she looked and the way she paid attention to me and laughed at my stupid jokes.  Generally, I liked her. We struck-up a friendship ...

I wanted to find some humor in this string - because humor is important, and nothing in life is devoid of humor — but I could not find real humor.  Like, a pie in the face or stepping in dog shit.  There was none of that. The things I remember are the rough times.  Like, when I was ironing shirts and pants for my week of work, and she said, “If you think I’m going to iron your shirts, you’ve got another think coming.” Well - there I was, with the iron in my hand - ironing.  What other “think” did I have coming? That was early on, and I should have figured it out. The time she told me, “I am disappoionted in you,” I had no idea what she was saying, only that she was probably comparing me to her father, which was both unfair and unjust. I never figured out who I was supposed to be, only that whenever we went for “a walk” I knew that there was something about my personality that she wanted to change. The sad part is that, perhaps I should have been the o...

OK, so — how does a relationship fall apart? Glad you asked. It falls apart gradually, until finally, the pieces cannot be sewn together. When it happens, you know it. I knew it, and the gradual effect was not evident until the end. It comes upon you gradually. One incident: I was sitting in a side room, listening (on headphones) to a song by David Sylvian. The lyrics got to me: I fall outside of her She doesn't notice I fall outside of her She doesn't notice at all And mine is an empty bed I think she's forgotten. I was weeping. She heard me, and came into the room. “What is it now?” She asked, in an accusatory tone. “You don’t love me anymore,” was my reply. A moment passed, and she just turned and walked out. My suspicions confirmed. Much later - or perhaps soon, I cannot recall - she had planned a trip to visit her old college roommate (see part one) and her now husband and their new baby in Houston. Being a child of the space program, I volunteered to accompany her. ...