Month: July 2019

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personal

My entire life

I was…

  • 6 when I had my first memory – it was about food (yoghurt) – and Alison was born.
  • 7 when I went to the hospital for a fever – imagine how smart I’d be if I never had it?
  • 8 when I had my first, of thousands, of gyros. Battlestar Galatica 1980 just aired.
  • 9 when I first saw the building that my father would eventually die in.
  • 10 when I killed something for the first time with my grandma, a chicken.
  • 11 when I read the book 1984.
  • 13 when my best friend left for college (long story). I lost 50 pounds and stopped being fat.
  • 14 when I learned how to drive with my dad and got my first job, a busboy.
  • 15 when I first noticed a girl that noticed me back. She said I was cute. No one that didn’t give birth to me ever said that to me before her. It was on the same block where I just had AYCE Korean food.
  • 16 when I had my first kiss with a girl that had a punk haircut. I was just awful to her.
      • As an aside, when I was in my mid-20s, I drove by her house and randomly decided to see if she was home. She was. I put on an apron and chopped up a ginormous chocolate bar into chips while she baked cookies. She kissed me on my cheek when I left and told me she forgave me. Never saw or heard from her again. Word is that she’s married in Colorado now and raises horses.
  • 17 when I got my first car and Mouse was born.
  • 18 when I started writing for serious.
  • 19 when the insomnia started for serious.
  • 20 when I got my first real job where I had a desk.
  • 21 when I started my own business. I still have it even now and it’s (usually) my primary source of income.
  • 22 when I started doing club work and met demons that looked human. Beat out PriceWaterhouse and IBM for a Madison Ave project that paid for my rent (and my landlord’s Ducati) for two years in one shot.
  • 23 when I went to law school with the scratch from the clubs and biz.
    • (23-25 didn’t exist because: Working and in law school)
  • 26 when I started in a law firm and stopped doing club work. Was 26.5 when I left and joined a Fortune 500 company. Passed the bar on the first try.
  • 27 when I got my first raise and promotion.
  • 28 when I flew around the world and some assholes flew fucking planes into my goddamn city. I also told someone that loved me that I didn’t love her and that I was sorry. She left my side of the country.
  • 29 when I left my only salaried job, met a German tourist at a dive bar, traveled around Europe with her, broke up, and started doing what I do now. These were busy years.
  • 30 when I met the first person I thought I loved. I was mistaken.
  • just 31 when I bought the pad I live in now with Harold and the boy.
  • 32 when I saw my grandparents for the last time because I always thought I’d have time.  We always think we’ll have time.
  • 33 when the woman I lived with left and I thought it was the lowest point of my life. I was mistaken. Again.
  • 34 wrote that a frog in a well knows nothing of the ocean. Been thinking of this a lot lately for reasons I’ll tell you about onea these days.
Me at 30

Between this entry you’re reading now, and the rest of my blog, you essentially have the sum of my life on your screen.

What a meaningless life I’ve lived before 2015.

But I know I’ve changed the course of some people’s lives and that of their families. I think at least two but I hope more –  cause no man’s an island – but I’d be ok if it were just two.

Speaking of two, I look at my little family of two and think to myself that I’m actually happy.

Because I love this kid and I have a purpose again. To make him into something Cellini might recognize. To teach him how to fight monsters. To let him know he’s so loved.

It’s not quite the family I’ve always wanted but he’s still the best thing I’ve got.

Me: What did you see today?
Him: Thunderbirds!
Me: (quizzically) A thunderbolt?
Him: No. (enunciating) A thun…der..bir..d.
Me: Ah, gotcha. “Thunderbird.” Man, Manhattan’s got it all, huh?

Location: earlier today, Riverside Park
Mood: relieved
Music: Give me a paper and a pen so I can write about my life of sin

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Grief can be fatal

The boy’s first picture

If there was a single moment that captured everything about my cleaning out Alison’s closet, it was when I found her Filofax, opened it, and something fluttered out.

For those of you that didn’t know her personally, this was a rarity. Because she was the single most organized and clean person I knew. Nothing fluttered out of anything when she was here because she always put everything away where it belonged.

But what fluttered out was a sonogram of the boy. Our first picture of him.

I remember walking into the room one day and catching her staring at it with a look of such love. Realize now that she musta taken out that sonogram a million times to just stare at her son.

Several friends and acquaintances have recently had babies. While I’m thrilled for them, it reminds me how much we’ve lost.

And I don’t think anyone except a mother could truly understand what must have gone through her mind when she was told she had cancer and would die.

Do you know the very first fucking thing she said to me was? Not about herself or even the cancer. It was,

I won’t see him grow up?

She cried for 24 hours straight after that. I didn’t think a body could cry so much. It was only five days after he was born. Fuck all.

Goddammit. Just typing that hit the pain button full-on and I’m trying not to be a basketcase.

So I put away the photo and try to not think about my most aching possible past.


Just watch the first four minutes. It’s worth it.

I’m putting stuff away cause, unchecked, grief can definitely be fatal. If not for Mouse and the boy, I wouldn’t be here.

In the past 45 days or so, a number of people that have been experiencing grief have reached out to me, exactly as I did to Leigh’s husband when Alison died. And like him, I’ve been trying to help as much as I can.

It’s hard. Cause I gotta dredge up things I’d rather not. But people like Leigh’s husband did that for me so I gotta do my part.

The thing is, you don’t know true grief until you feel it yourself.

And, while I wish you wouldn’t, you will, cause there’s nuthin you love that you won’t lose someday.

If you’re lucky, your grief will only be a small fraction of mine, which – trust me – is a blessing.

In fact one fella I spoke to whose wife died of cancer and left him with two boys told me, “Wow, I wouldn’t think it possible that someone had it worse; but you two’ve had it worse. I’m sorry.”

It’s a shitty achievement we’ve unlocked and one that I wished we didn’t, but, then again, I wish for a lotta things.

In any case, whenever I speak to someone about their grief, I’m reminded of the kid that said that I shoulda moved on after a year. As the video notes, you never move on; you move forward.

Evilly, I used to wish that she’d feel my grief for herself – like I said, I’m not a good person – but I was different then.

Now I just feel pity for her cause she’s just a dumb kid that’s never dealt with it. For better or worse, she will feel it one day, and I don’t think she’s equipped to deal with it.

I barely was. I barely am.

Now, I did promise Alison that I’d be here to take care of her son.

I didn’t mean it then. But I do now. I do. Really. Although there are moments that take your breath away, and not in the good way.

Me: Goodnight, kiddo.
Boy: Mommy’s sick.
Me: What?
Him: She’s sick. She died. She won’t get better.
Me: (dumbstruck)
Him: I love mommy. But she died.
Me: (fuck me) Get some sleep.

As I was writing this, one of the two people I still mentor called me to tell me that he’s worried about cancer with his aunt that raised him.

Man, it really is the emperor of all maladies.

Location: Earlier today, midtown, wishing I had an electric scooter
Mood: thoughtful
Music: in your shirt, the pain it really hurts

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Messrs Everman, Cellini, and Vaźques

Unicorns: Artist, warrior, philosopher, and businessman

Her: Every father wants his son to be something. Do you know what you want him to be?

A buddy of mine named Vaźques stopped by the other day for some Cuban food and we chatted for a bit about the path of his life. He’s younger than me; and with that youth comes an open future.

I asked him if he played a musical instrument and he said no. Told him to consider it cause there was a fella named Cellini once said that a well-rounded man is an artist, warrior, and philosopher.

I’d personally add to that “businessman” but that’s just me.

In any case, I’d read about Cellini in seventh grade in social studies while discussing tank warfare (odd thing to remember, I know). Decided then I wanted to be that and spent the next 34 years trying.

The gold standard, IMHO, is a fella named Everman who was:

      • The guitar player for Nirvana and the base-player for Soundgarden and OLD.
      • A US Army Ranger and Green Beret
      • An Ivy League graduate with a degree in philosophy with Columbia university; he’s currently pursuing his masters degree in Military history.

I meet tons of dangerous people in my personal and professional life. They are clearly dangerous – they wear their lethality clearly and conspicuously, like scorpions. I’m only marginally impressed.

I also meet tons of hyper intelligent people in my personal and professional life. They talk about the latest million-dollar deal they just closed on or their latest cool project. Again, marginally impressed.

Finally, there is a small group of people I know that seek understanding over rote knowledge. A very small group. These people impress me a bit more, but only a bit.

At least they think of the cascading consequences of all their actions.

But there’s this incredible minority of people like Messrs Everman and Cellini that have achieved what I think encompasses what a man – or woman – should strive to be.

A man named Danaher – whom I met when he was a bouncer and I was a club promoter – and the Devil I consider as one of these people as well with both of them fulfilling that fourth requirement of “businessman.”

These are the real unicorns. To be in their presence is humbling because, in my mind, they understand what’s valuable and what’s just a waste of time.

We’re all given 24 hours, every day. It’s what they do with those hours that separates them from everyone else.

Honestly,  my children can be anything they want to be. Doctor, plumber, race car driver, whatever. As long as they are those three four things first.

As long as he’s a unicorn.

Me: Yes.

Location: the basement of my brain…plotting
Mood: ambitious
Music: could have stayed for more.
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More Random Conversations

Clearly, a better choice

Saw Mouse three times this past week including over the blackout we had over the weekend. More on that later, I suppose.

Nuthin’s changed so you’re not missing much.

Me: More food or alcohol?
Her: Alcohol.
Me: Done.

Continuing from my last post, friends I’ve not seen in ages have been reappearing in my life. The Professor, for example, was in town to give a lecture.

Me: You’re taking forever to finish your drink.
Him: I drink 5cc’s of liquor every five minutes.
Me: I see. Well, afterwards, we can discuss how the Holy Roman Empire was neither holy nor Roman, nor truly an empire.
Him: That was an interesting non sequitor.
Me: (shrugging) No more so than your drinking my rum at a rate of 5cc’s per five minutes.

Been hanging out with some new friends as well. A buddy of mine has a very different take on dating than I do:

Him: Your rules are insane, man.
Me: Everyone has criteria.
Him: (shrugging) Not me. I figure one outta seven will be attractive enough to date but when it comes to ______ everything goes. When I had my own apartment, I’d just meet someone, go back to my place and ________, _______, and _______. Afterward, I might ________ but sometimes I just ________ ________ or she’ll ________. Either way, she’d ______ or _____ and I’d just _____ and it’d be fine. Although there was this one time this woman and I _______ and she ______. The next day, my buddy was like what’s that on your ______ and it was her ________.  (laughing) That was crazy.
Me: (standing up) OK, you need to stand in the middle of my pad and not touch anything. My kid lives here. I need to burn everything you *did* touch and then take a shower. And you should get checked out.
Him: Eh, I’m fine. Probably.
Me: (walking to the bathroom) I’m going to take a shower now. Don’t. Touch. Anything. I’m serious.

But some of the best moments in my entire life have also been happening lately and I’m always excited to see what else in store for the two of us.

Me: When you grow up, do you want to be like papa?
Him: No, I wanna be a pirate.
Me: Clearly, that’s a better choice.
Him: Then I wanna be a monkey.
Me: (nodding) Again, better choice.

Great song; weird video. Not sure if I like it but Asian dude’s the lead so I gotta support.

Location: earlier, the Oculus
Mood: rested, almost ready
Music: I’m right back where I started

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Very different conversations

A little every day

Been seeing a ton of people lately. The fog in my head that’s been around for the past several months has lifted – mainly cause I’ve gotten some sleep. Like, real sleep.

So I wanna get things done.

Not everything’s been good. For example we had a small leak in my building that has turned into a major, major headache.

Him: You see this brick here?
Me: Yeah.
Him: (punches it, brick moves) Yeah, that shouldn’t do that.

The cost to fix is gonna wipe out my savings. Ah, the joys of homeownership.

On a happier note, spoke to an old buddy of mine, who was a lifelong New Yorker that somehow met and married a girl he met down south. Then, he up and left not that long ago to be with her.

Me: What’s life like in Virginia?
Him: It’s great. We’ve got 200 acres here.
Me: That’s insane. Don’t you miss New York at all?
Him: The New York I knew and loved is long gone. I had to leave. There wasn’t anything for me any more.
Me: So what are your days like?
Him: Usually in bed by 9PM or so, up by 6AM.
Me: And you’re surrounded by chickens?
Him: Surrounded. Oh, we have two emu.
Me: Who the f___k are you?!
Him: (laughs)

He says the key to a happy marriage is to miss each other a little every day. I get that.

More ghosts from my past came to visit. Kinda.

Her: I need to crash someplace. Is your son around?
Me: No…and no.
Her: What? Why not?
Me: Because, my life’s complicated enough and you would just complicate things more.
Her: (sighs) It’s you that makes things complicated, Logan.

Also saw RE Mike again.

Now that he knows I’m out-and-about again, he’s been sending me these really insane invites again, like old times, except we both have kids now.

I’ve actually only gone to a few things with him recently but the one I enjoyed most was a quiet drink and dinner with him and his infant son downtown.

We don’t really have that many serious conversations between us cause that’s not the nature of our relationship, save for when our fathers died.

Him: I just came from a buddy’s funeral. He…look, I need to know if you’re thinking of hurting yourself.
Me: Me? (laughing) I’m afraid to cross the street these days because I don’t wanna risk leaving the boy alone. (shaking head) No. I’m not. Honest.
Him: (sighing) Good. I couldn’t handle if I had to go to another friend’s funeral.
Me: I’m sorry, man. Sometimes people go through some dark things and come out the other side. Sometime they don’t. I’m sorry. (motioning to his son) They’re worth sticking around for.
Him: Yeah. (smiling at son) They are.

Location: in the middle
Mood: good? It’s been so long since I’ve been good I forgot what it’s like
Music: How did we get into this mess? Got so aggressive

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It’s time

There is a chance

The boy was at my mother-in-law’s for the 4th of July. As I said in the last entry, my 4th was awful. That’s because I spent it cleaning out Alison’s closet and wardrobe.

You see, I finally got some sleep the other day and I woke up knowing I had to do it.

When my dad died, my mom, to her credit, spent a solid month cleaning out alla his stuff. Everything.

Like I said, women are simply emotionally stronger than most men.

But I let Alison’s closet and wardrobe sit there.

Man, Alison was a wiz at maximizing space; everything was jam-packed but perfectly organized.

The past two years, I cleaned things here and there but never really did what my mom did and just cleaned it out.

Mentioned alla this to my MIL when I saw her. She always says the right thing.

Her: I’m glad. Save a few special things, and then put everything else into two garbage bags and donate it. Alison would have wanted you to do that.
Me: I know. If the roles were reversed, I’d want her to do it too.
Her:  Yes. (gently) Clean out her things, Logan. It’s time.
Me: (nodding)

It was excruciating. However bad you think it was, it was worse.

Ended up dropping off seven bags worth of things at the local Goodwill. Screamed at no one about that many times.

Took until after midnight but once it was all done, I felt different. Better.

There’s never any closure but I think all the reminders of her everywhere added to my underlying sadness and complicated things.

I also put away her pictures, although they’re still out in the boy’s room, where they should be.

It’s a start.

Him: People got to know you through your blog, and her as well. It’s clear to everyone that you loved her and always will love her. Some of what you wrote was like poetry. (thinking) But I’m glad you talked to your MIL. She’s the only person that can give you any real advice.
Me: Yeah. (thinking) It’s like a million years ago and like yesterday.
Him: (nodding) It’s good. You did the right thing (cleaning out Alison’s closet).

I saw Mouse briefly the other day when some friends got together for AYCE Korean food and some axe throwing.

She’s quite good at it. Wanted to tell her about the closet and wardrobe but it didn’t feel right.

Afterward, she and I decided to get some dessert and coffee together.

There was so much I wanted to say to her, but she handed me one of her headphone earbuds and we just listened to music on the ride over.

Dunno what the future holds for us, if anything, but I’d be lying if I said wasn’t happy to see her.

Me: It’s no excuse, but you met me at a weird and awful time in my life. 
Her: I know, Logan. But… (shakes head)
Me: No chance at all?
Her: (laughing) Like a moonshot chance.
Me: I’ll take that. (later) So, there is a chance.

Suppose you’ll have to read her blog to find details, if any. After all, it’s how I get most of my info about her these days.

Speaking of music, my brother sent me some song suggestions the other day, before I wrote my last entry.

Interestingly, one of the songs he said I should listen to was Be the One by Dua Lipa, and the lyrics actually work well with the story about The Taming of the Shrew, which I found interesting.

Maybe that’s just me.

Location: an emptier home
Mood: hopeful
Music: just another chance

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Whatever you need it to be

..it is. It’s the moon, then

Hope you had a good 4th of July.

I didn’t really. Probably one of the worst I ever had, mainly because I did a buncha things I’d been putting off for…years, really.

But around 8PM, I started feeling much better and thinking a lot clearer than I have in a while, for reasons we’ll get into a bit later, I suppose.

Billy Shakespeare wrote this play called The Taming of the Shrew* where this fella named Pete says, “Good Lord, how bright and goodly shines the moon!”

The only problem is that it’s daytime and he’s talking about the sun (just to prove a point).

So his girl Kate says, “Dude, it’s daytime. That’s the sun.”

Pete: I say it is the moon that shines so bright.
Kate: I know it is the sun that shines so bright.
Buddy: (to Kate) Just say it’s the moon or we’ll never get outta here.
Kate: (to Pete) Sun, moon, whatever. Whatever you say it is, it is.

See, Kate’s kinda a stubborn know-it-all, whereas Pete just wants them to have a happy relationship.

So Pete decides to test Kate by saying something demonstrably false, and Kate, to her credit, realizes that it doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right, as long as they have each other. So she says, essentially, “Whatever. If it makes you happy, I’ll say it and we can just move on with our lives.”

Someone once told me that I always have to be right. I don’t agree with that statement 100% but I see what they mean.

After all, what are you winning in life if you’re losing the really important stuff?

*Yes, I’m aware of the potentially misogynistic overtones of the story. But I’ve always liked this scene, where someone gives in because they know a happy relationship’s worth more. I get that. Here’s a slightly more modern – and reversed – take on the scene.

Location: surrounded by clothes, boxes, bags, and memories
Mood: rested
Music: right now there’s a war between the vanities

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Butterfly or man?

Unexpected places

Him: Are you alive, Logan?
Me: Biologically? Yes. I respirate, ambulate, defecate, urinate, and – occasionally – fornicate. But everything’s a copy-of-a-copy-of-a-copy again. (looking at my hand) And my goddamn hands won’t stop shaking.

This fella named Zhuangzi once wrote that he had a dream that he was a butterfly dreaming he was a man.

For the rest of his life, he wondered if he was a man dreaming he was a butterfly, or whether he was a butterfly, dreaming he was a man.

Between that story and the that line about everything being a copy-of-a-copy-of-a-copy is how I’d describe functioning recently.

I use “functioning” loosely. Dunno what real and what’s for sale.

The last two months have been rough but the last week has been absolutely surreal. I’ll tell you about what I can when I can.

However, some things are clearer in my head than they’ve been in a while, which I think is probably a good thing.

I once said that all of your life’s problems can be divided up into health, wealth, and relationships.

If one goes south, you’re a wreck. Two, you need to stop everything and right the ship. Three…you need help.

All three came down on me in the past 10 days in unexpected ways. Very unexpected ways.

But help comes from unexpected places too.

Fiction

Him: Here. (hands me cash)
Me: That’s a lot more than the gig required. Honestly, the kid coulda handled it himself. (thinking) If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying give me some pity scratch.
Him: (slight smile)That doesn’t sound like me. But I do think I owe you like $5K.
Me: That you earned. (thinking) Someone’s been breaking into alla my accounts. Is it you?
Him: I’m old school. You know I don’t do tech. (shaking head) I’m a businessman now. For everything you think of me…. Look, we were kids. I’m sorry.
Me: A chick I met at a party once told me that I hurt people and I laughed and said, “If I’m honest, how can I hurt anyone?” But I get it now. Everyone’s sorry for the awful things they do to others. I know I am. (laughing) You know, at this point in time, you may be the only friend that knows who I really am and stuck around?
Him: What’re you saying?
Me: I’m saying I  hope this isn’t a long con, man. I’m rough. I need sleep. I need scratch. I just wanna forget everyone and everything but the boy.
Him: You already got fucked by the world. For what it’s worth, I betrayed you when you were up. You have rules? I have fucking rules too. I don’t kick a man when he’s down. And you – friend – are the most down motherfucker I know. Like you said, it’s all just time and chance. We’re not kids anymore, hustling nickels and dimes. (sighing) Keep the money. Get some sleep, Logan.

/Fiction

Location: nightmareland, still
Mood: so exhausted
Music: It couldn’t be a dream, cause too real it all seems

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