If you’ve never seen it, it’s supposedly one of the inspirations behind John Wick – and I think it supersedes it in many regards. One of the best action flicks I’ve ever seen – on Pac’s recommendation.
Him: Dude, it’s got a karambit in it!
Subscribe, like, and repost please. I need to get some passive income and stop working all together.
Speaking of working, met up with Mouse and RE Mike. Needed his help on a project and wanted to pick his brain on a few things.
Me: I’ll take you out to eat. Him: You don’t need to do that. Me: Sure I do. Besides, I gotta eat too.
Because of Mouse’s diet, we went to this place that was pretty paleo friendly. We all really enjoyed our dishes and even had a nice malbec too.
Her: This 47 year-old hit on me the other day. People that are 47 look super old. Me: Wait, I’m 47. Her: (scoffing) You don’t look THAT old.
ML also dropped me a line. Some guy was super upset he got rejected by her so he wrote her this nasty, nasty email. I find that disappointing.
Me: There are lots of damaged people in the world. Don’t let their damage damage you. Her: Thank you for that.
Dating’s rough in general and doesn’t get any easier as you get older. On that note, I also got a ring from the ABFF yesterday.
ABFF: One guy wrote me and asked me how my weekend was. I was like, “Do you want a report?!” Me: Maybe he was just trying to be nice? Her: Look, Logan, I’m just trying to keep rapists and murderers away from my kids… Me: Jeez! That should be a general life goal, irrespective of kids. Her: …and I agree with you 100% on “LOLs.” Like, what are you, a balloon? It’s hard meeting someone normal in their 40s. Me: Wait, there’re normal guys in their 40s. I’m in my 40s. Her: Nope. I’m not doing this backhanded compliment thing with you where you get to brag that you look great for your age. Me: Well, that’s disappointing.
I think the pandemic’s getting on the nerves of single people. A buddy of mine’s getting tired of being cooped up so he’s been hitting on randos he meets on the streets. It reminded me of a conversation I had once.
OK, many times.
Her: Sorry, I have a boyfriend. Me: Well, good thing I’m gay then. Her: (laughs)
Interestingly, Lviv, Mouse, and the ABFF are all at career – and personal – crossroads.
After Mouse drove me back to my pad from the Scenic Fights shoot, I invited her to come in to eat and watch a flick.
Mouse: No. I have a headache. Man, that’s the first time I’ve ever used that excuse before. Me: I literally just asked if you wanted to eat and watch a flick. Her: Sorry, still trying to get a handle on all my heath things. OK, I’ll come in. We can spin the wheel of misfortune! See where we end up. Me: Always good to be positive.
We ended up watching a completely innocuous rom-com called Love, Guaranteed. I’m always a sucker for a good passable rom-com.
While very trite, I did like that that they made this guy who was an avowed womanizer a good person. The women he met, he didn’t end up with but they all thought he was generally a good and decent guy.
In that respect, I thought it was rather unique. Also, they had a the main female character drive a Karmann Ghia.
Me: I used to want one so bad. But they don’t run fast. Mouse: Perfect, neither do you. Me: So glad you decided to come in, Mouse…
In addition to the health issues that Mouse’s mentioned in her blog, she’s also been dealing with some other issues that were out of both of our wheelhouses.
Luckily, we had a friend Hawk that knew what to do and helped point us in the right direction.
As a thank you, we got him a fine bottle of rum and invited him and his girl over for some food this past weekend.
Him: I’m essentially a pescatarian. Me: I am so sorry to hear that.
Mouse picked up a side of salmon and I made this super easy AIP salmon dish that was honestly delicious. While I did that, Mouse helped me cleanup the pad.
Mouse: I didn’t know what to do with a lot of it so I just put it on your desk. Me: Makes sense. That’s where it’d probably end up anyway. Thanks for helping! Her: (laughing) Well, thanks for cooking.
Hawk and his girl H came by with two bottles of wine and we all had a fine dinner. I think.
H: He told me how old you were; I didn’t believe it. Me: I literally look for any excuse to take off my clothes. I’ll take them off now. Her: (laughs) Me: No really, I’m serious.
Afterward, we settled down for some board games.
Her: We like Scattergories. Me: Oh, that was one of Alison’s games. We always meant to play it. I suppose tonight’s as good a night as any.
Mouse and I dug it up and we played it. I could see why Alison liked it. She always loved word games like that and Boggle. Essentially, you have to make up lists of things that begin with random letters.
For “N,” one clue was, “Things you find in a home.”
I just thought of something when the buzzer went off.
Him: What were you going to say? Me: I was going to take off my clothes so I could write, “Naked Chinese man,” but I ran outta time.
It was a fun night. In some ways, it made me miss the boy more. I want all my friends to meet him because he’s such a joy.
That means that somewhere out there, there are a million people that don’t know me as a writer, or as a lawyer, or as Alison’s husband, or the kid’s father, but rather as a guy that plays around with knives in his free time.
Which I do, but that’s neither here nor there.
Dunno how I feel about that.
I wonder how many of those views are from my mom? I should call my mom.
Since we’re talking about violence, I went to roll with Chad and some friends at another friend’s place. It was the very first time I’d rolled since the last time I told you about it. And it showed.
I was gassed after only the second roll.
Me: (lying on floor) Him: Who’s free to roll? Me: (lifting up arm) I am. But, I am not moving. You gotta come to me. Him: (walking over) That’s just gonna make me mad, Logan. Me: Goddammit.
The crazy thing is that I biked from my apartment in the UWS, ten miles to the place in Brooklyn, rolled for two hours, and then did the ten mile bike ride back.
Now, to be fair, part of that was with the electric bike turned on. But, most of it was with it off. And I somehow managed to lose a mask, my fave pair of sunglasses, and mess up my bike seat on the ride back.
My legs – and body – were jelly when I got home. Mouse and I had plans later that day, which was dumb. Because I was in no shape to do anything or see anyone.
Her: Are you ok? Me: Everything hurts. Her: Do you want me to walk on your back? Me: God, yes.
Chuck, Cho, Chad, and Mouse came by on Friday to wish Chuck a safe trip back home.
Me: Well, I already spent thousands this month on my apartment and health so I figured, “Why not blow another $150 on a smokeless grill? What difference’s 150 bucks at this point?” Chad: Makes sense. Me: We should invite Chuck over for a last BBQ in NYC. Him: Let’s do it.
For anyone that’s been to my pad before, they know that the air circulation is low-to-nonexistent. No matter what I try to pan-grill, my smoke alarm goes off and it’s a sauna most days of the year.
I’d gotten the grill a while ago and decided to christen it and wish Chuck a farewell at the same time.
We picked up burgers, kielbasa, kraut, cole slaw, roasted veggies, potato pancakes, and drinks around the way, bringing them back and grilling everything up. We were supposed to start around 5:30.
Mouse: (walking in at 7PM) Wait, you haven’t started eating yet? Me: We started a bit late. Her: I can see that.
After we were done eating, we watched an episode of a food channel, an episode of hot ones, and then got down to serious matters, like board games.
Note that we were all two-sheets-to-the-wind – except for Cho – because he was the only one driving. Which is why I found the following exchange so amusing:
Mouse: (drawing) Cho: What is that? An eye? Her: (nods) Him: Eye circle? Her: (shakes head) Him: Eye globe? Her: (eyes wild and wide, stabs picture) Him: Eyeball? Her: YES! It’s an eyeball! EYE GLOBE?! EYE CIRCLE?! WTF is an EYE GLOBE, CHO?!
Chad was laughing hysterically when he glanced at his phone and suddenly turned sober. “Oh, no!” he said.
Him: Chadwick Boseman died from colon cancer. He was 43. Me: What? (taking out phone, reading) Um, I need a second, fellas.
I went into the back room, sat down, and just cried. That’s how it works, you see. That’s how grief works.
One minute with you’re with your fave girlie and good friends, and the next minute you’re in the back pulling up pictures of people you know you love and that you’ll never see again and an actor that you never knew.
You never know when life’s gonna hit that grief button. But when it does, holy shit…
I always knew the word, “grief-stricken,” but I never truly appreciated the etymological brilliance of the word until that moment.
It’s actually so perfect with how it works as a word, you are literally stricken – hit, bludgeoned, injured, wounded, struck – with grief.
That’s what grief-stricken means. Grief hits you like a fucking baseball bat, and you’re left gasping for air.
I was literally laughing one moment and trying to cry as quietly as I could the next. That’s what grief-stricken means.
As for Chadwick, that’s a whole different matter that I need to work through.
Chad: (leaning in) I’m sorry, brother, I wasn’t thinking. Me: (shaking head) Why are you sorry? It wasn’t you that took her from me.
Her: This reminds me of California. Me: Yeah, that seems like ages ago. Her: I wanna go to a cafe. Me: There’s one coming up.
We sat down and she treated me to a diet coke while she had a coffee with what can only be described as a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar.
She left for work on Tuesday and I met up with Chuck and Chad afterward, like I said.
Lviv dropped me a line today too, just to see how I’m doing.
These researchers once did a study about dairy cows and noted that they were happy in the sense that they avoided pain. Pain avoidance and happiness are remarkably similar.
I think that’s true for most animals, us included.
I have to say that avoiding the pain this past weekend made me feel something close to happiness. The company helped, for sure.
And now, I can feel a little bit of relief until the holidays, at least.
Me: Thanks for coming this weekend; you’ve never missed any of these terrible anniversaries and I’m grateful for that. Thank you. Her: I’m glad I got to spend the weekend with you. Good night, Logan. Me: Good night, Mouse.
We had a really nice weekend, which I suppose I’ll tell you about later.
Every year it gets a bit easier, which makes me feel guilty that it gets easier. I was angry at my father in the years before he died. Angry about things I suppose sons get angry with their fathers for.
He loved me, though, so I’m sure he forgave me and my petty nonsense. I’m not sure if I forgive myself, though.
I wasn’t with my dad all that much in the years before he died – cause I spent so much time with Alison trying to save her – sometimes, I feel that if I call home, he’ll pick up.
Even though I know he won’t.
Home. It’s a odd word.
Chad and a buddy Chuck just walked out the door. They came by because Chuck’s heading home after a decade-and-a-half of NYC living. That’s his story, not mine, so I’ll end it there.
I envy him, though, in a way. He has a home to go back to.
The thing with me’s that I am home. I have no place to return to because I’m already here. The only home I’ve know for the past quarter of a century is this one.
My mom and sis still live in my childhood home but it’s not home to me. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.
Then again, in a lotta ways, this place doesn’t either, I guess. Alison isn’t here. My son isn’t here.