Pandora

What was the last thing in Pandora’s Box?


They opened a new Amish school house in Pennsylvania the other day.

Hopeful is good.

I think.

Have you ever actually read about Pandora’s box? Yes, she unleashed all of life’s misery but did you know that Hope was the final thing in the box? It was also the only thing Pandora managed to trap.

Eventually, Hope escaped.

There are two ways to look at this, either:

  • Hope is the one thing that counteracts all the crap life throws your way; OR
  • Hope is the worst of all evils because when you’re let down, well…I’m sure you’ve been let down before so, you know.

Always thought it was the former. In my late nights, I’m not sure. I think it may be the latter.

I would like it to be the former, but, then again, I would like a lot of things.

Location: @3:30, crossing the 59th St. Bridge
Mood: sad
Music: read my mind love What a tale my thoughts would tell

Cops and Robbers

Numbers sanctify

Cops are getting killed, left and right in my fine city. Crime is up.

I have a theory. Back when Giuliani was mayor, you got busted for littering or jaywalking. People had to respect the law. Now, with scores of people dying from bombs each day, and the public pretty much immune to it, it’s hard to take things like littering seriously.

The price of a life currently less than $20 here in the big city.

Wars, conflict, it’s all business. One murder makes a villain. Millions a hero. Numbers sanctify.
-Charlie Chaplin

Things never change.

Location: @1AM, East side, getting a call
Mood: tired
Music: my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray

Depression

Richard Jeni shot and killed himself

Richard Jeni shot and killed himself this week. The news upset me. I liked him. He was good at what he did. He made people laugh. He made me laugh.

Cause: depression.

Depression is horribly, ridiculously misunderstood. I hate how it’s something talked about in hushed tones, an embarrassment. No one sees cancer as an embarrassment but the end results of both, untreated, is the same. Someone ends up dead.

Nobody (in their right mind) refuses chemo because they worry how the family might look with a bald wife/son/father/daughter. When you catch a cold, no one thinks you’re brave if you refuse medication or help.

You’re just an idiot.

Read something once where they interviewed the people that jumped off bridges and survived. They pretty much universally said that, on the way down, they thought, “Oh man, I can change everything about my life…except this thing I’m doing now.”

I heard on the drive home last night that Brad Delp from Boston killed himself too.

What a waste. A colossal, avoidable, waste.

Postsecret
The Overnight

Location: @9 PM yesterday, getting kicked out
Mood: angry
Music: spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide

Cowboys

Aren’t most friendships finite?

I’ve been stuck here for a bit. Don’t ask. But it reminds me of something from a while ago.

One of my closest friends in college was a guy named Crawford who was a god at meeting women – he was (a) good-looking, (b) charming and (c) shameless. We had a blast for two years.

He told me a story once. He said that real cowboys were hired, maybe five to eight at a time, in one state to drive cattle to the other end of the country. This bunch of guys was thrown together for months at a time and, during this time, they were each others’ friends, doctors, entertainers, cooks and guardian angels. They needed to keep each other sane and safe to get the job done.

And once the job was done, they separated. No emails, faxes, phone calls, letters. Just onto the next job.

The question Crawford posed to me was: were they truly friends? Is there such thing as friendship when there’s a finite ending?

What about when two lovers separate – was there any love really there?

My answer to all is yes.

Because at some point everything ends. Life will take everything and everyone you love. There is nothing you can touch that you won’t lose at some point down the line.

Five months, fifty years, the time doesn’t make it any more or less real.

I take solace in that.

At some point, these people I loved, once loved me. It’s sad when relationships end but goodbyes are always sad.

Crawford and I both moved here to the big city. We met up once but then I never saw him again.

He was a good friend.

Location: @ 7:10 AM, taking the east side local
Mood: optimistic
Music: Its such a shame, Always ends the same

Expanding

Take up your space in the world

Reaction of two people whose personal space ar...
Reaction of two people whose personal space are in conflict. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Personal space runs from 18″ to four feet from your body to another person.

In NYC, that number is probably two feet from you body. That would mean that your personal space is a 13 square-foot circle around you.

So in the past number of weeks, I’ve learned that three of my friends are involved in “secret” relationships, not with each other, where people don’t know that they’re involved. Two are women, one is a man.

Why would any self-respecting person want to be with something that isn’t proud to say, Yeah she’s with me?

That, and premium ice cubes, is just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.

  • I say, you’re entitled to your 13 square-foot circle.
  • I say, take up your damn space in the world – in fact take up more.
  • I say, if you don’t think you deserve it, you don’t.

Me? I’m expanding.

Location: Home sweet home.
Mood: grumpy
Music: I’m thrown and overblown with bliss.

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Kindness is valuable because it is rare

Liver anyone?

I believe that people are bad at heart. What with historical events (like Nazi Germany, the Inquisition, the Great Leap Forward), psychological evidence (the Zimbardo and Milgram experiments), and current events (pick up a paper) I’m fairly disgusted at our species as a whole.

However, that’s not entirely a negative sentiment. I think a bit of kindness is nobler against the backdrop of our craptastic-ness.

So I had four recent bits of kindness:

  1. I met a girl that lives in France a while ago who shot me a sweet email. She’s seeing a French guy now. It’s ok, the late night conversations were enough for me.
  2. I got another very personal email from a co-worker wishing me a happy holiday. It was nice to get because, while we work closely together, we’ve never actually met (like you and me).
  3. I met a girl tonight that I found refreshingly honest about life. Honesty without meanness is so rare.
  4. Finally, today, I got an Xmas card from a reader amidst my usual bills. As an aside, she looks completely Caucasian but she’s got a Chinese last name. It turns out that four generations ago, her grandfather was Chinese. I find that so cool.

Regarding (4) I think we’re supposed to meet up for coffee (just coffee – she’s in love with a boy from Indiana) but I’m reminded of a quote from Margaret Atwood:

Wanting to meet a writer because you like their books is like wanting meet a duck because you like pate.

Eh, I’ll risk it.

Location: the basement of my brain
Mood: pleased
Music: And so and now I’m sorry I missed you

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Marian Fisher

I was reading this article about the Amish girls that were killed the other day. The first to die was a 13-year old named Marian Fisher who asked “Shoot me first.” Her younger sister Barbie then said “Shoot me second.” Barbie survived. The thing is that that these kids never watched TV nor movies – they didn’t learn to be brave by why some actor taught them. They just were brave.

It’s hard being a Christian in the city – I admit, enjoy my sinful life a bit more than I should. But these are people who are at peace, even when they’re not.

It’s also hard having faith and being brave. I’m 20 years older than that girl was and half as brave (if that).

Maybe I just need a little more faith.

Location: @ 2:something – snapping this pic
Mood: Hopeful
Music: take these lies and make them true somehow
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