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personal

These unknown versions of me

Maybe I was always awful

We had a soft launch of our gym this past Thursday and Friday with just an evening class on Thursday, an afternoon class on Friday, a nighttime open mat, and then a party afterward.

Before that, Chad and I were putting in full days, leaving most nights after midnight. It was busy but not terrible. We basically just focused on the task at hand each day.

In the end, the gym was mostly how we wanted it to look; I’ll have to go in and take some proper pics soon but not until after some more artwork comes in.

A buddy I met in the city some 20+ years ago was there there on Friday for the open mat. He showed me pictures of his kid.

Him: (proudly)
Me: She’s adorbs! We need to have a playdate.

I remember him applying to be on the force all those years ago. He’s about to retire. Crazy how long I’ve known some people.

I pride myself on keeping good souls around.

After the open mat, everyone waited patiently to shower – man, having showers is a godsend after spending years at a gym without a shower – and then I started making a half-dozen trips downstairs to get food and drink for everyone.

We had a platter of sushi, two platters of wraps, one tray of wings, a huge fruit bowl, and countless bottles of alcohol.

Hawk brought a bottle of bourbon, Curt brought more beer, someone else brought some tequila, and Mouse bought a bottle of Chad and my favourite rum.

Speaking of Mouse, we spoke for a bit after the party and she told me things I didn’t realize before.

Me: You’ve never said any of this.
Her: (rolling eyes) I’ve said this to you a dozen times.
Me: I don’t think you were ever this specific. Are you ever gonna not be mad at me?
Her: I don’t know.

Speaking of keeping good souls around, I used to pride myself on the fact that women I dated prior to Alison still liked me after the fact and wanted to be friends with me.

Evidently, I’ve just become an awful person. Or maybe I was always awful and never noticed.

I don’t remember these versions of me.

Chad hit me up on Saturday, he was sick with a cold – but not COVID as per a rapid test – and our first official day of the gym is tomorrow.

Because of that, I went down on Saturday to clean up some after the Friday night party. When I got back, I realized I left my wallet there.

So, I immediately headed back downtown to retrieve it.

Welp, my luck’s running true to form. I suppose there’s something to be said for consistency.

Location: Union Square, where else?
Mood: having rum in my coffee
Music: such a bummer, there must be more behind the summer (Spotify)
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business personal

Spending it all

Paxibellum is open

We had our first class today at Paxibellum and it was insanely fun. We even had someone sign up off the street.

My buddy Arin was there and injured so she and I made up the crippled portion of the roll.

Afterward, I had some unexpectedly deep conversations.

Him: You seem to have a lot of anger in you.
Me: You would too if you the people you loved kept dying or leaving you.
Him: They did, Logan. (tells me)
Me: Shit! You can’t just drop something like that on someone!

That’s his story to tell, so I’ll stop it here.

Afterward, some of the investors and I met up for drinks afterward.

I’m pretty lit so I won’t say much. When I drink I’m me, just more me, somehow.

Him: How did it go?
Me: (puzzled) She gave me her number, of course.
Him: (laughing) Of course. I saw her in the neighborhood before.
Me: Sure, she works next door to us.

Evidently, Chad is more Chad too.

Me: That table of four women were checking you out.
Him: I know, Logan.
Me: (laughing) What have I done?

We are who are we are; time and chance just reveals us to everyone else.

Another investor and his son gave me a lift home.

Me: If I may, in life, you always chose between time and money. I can’t take that job because I value my time more than I do money. You’re 22. So you should chose money. But when you get to be your dad’s age – and mine – you have to chose time. Whatever you chose, though, pick carefully who you spend it all on.

Location: Union Square, all goddamn day
Mood: hella lit
Music: if I’d known, if I’d known, if I’d known (Spotify)
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personal

Wishing for horses

Wins and shady secrets

My father died exactly four years ago. It feels like yesterday and a lifetime ago.

I talk a lot with older male friends about what it’s like being a father, I think – in part – because I can’t talk to my dad.

It’s less than ideal.

If wishes were horses…

The boy’s been away for a few weeks and will be for a few weeks more.

While I miss him terribly, it’s good because I’ve been coming home at midnight most nights because Chad and I are setting up this new gym.

I’ll tell you more about it once it’s all set up.

Last Saturday, NYC had the most rain it’s ever had in a single hour and I’m happy to say that my apartment did NOT flood, although it came pretty close a few times there.

It was super stressful, but now I know that the things I did to help the situation worked.

I’ll take any win I can get

I’ve become a shady secret again, this time to four different women – not all of them romantic interests, but all have their own reasons for wanting me not to mention them.

Which is a shame because some of the stuff they say is truly amusing. Here are some rando convos, completely out of context.

Her: (to waiter) Do you have something like a Corona Light?
Me: (to her, after) Wait, why didn’t you just ask for a Corona Light?
Her: I’ve been disappointed too many times in the past.

Her: How’s the gym going?
Me: We’re moving at lightning speed so I’m exhausted.
Her: You’re the knife instructor?
Me: Technically, I’m the backup knife instructor.
Her: Oh, you should tell people that you’re a substitute knife instructor.

Me: How’s online dating going?
Her: I like to think of it as, Meeting-strangers-online-to-waste-three-weeks-of-my-life-with-at-a-time.
Me: Accurate.

Remember when I told you that the Heiress had the same type of cancer as Alison? Welp, I was just introduced to yet another woman with this fucking cancer.

She’s asking me for help/advice and – while I don’t want to relive the past – I have to help, I feel. And so, I do.

Again, this type of cancer mainly affect older, white, males. This woman is the third young white female I’ve met that had it.

It’s madness.

Then again, I’m finding that either madness tends to find me, or I tend to find it. Not sure which one is which.

Had lunch with a business associate of mine as well as dinner with another friend of mine.

They each offered me a job in two radically different fields of work. One was a high six-figure a year job, the other a very low five-figure a year job.

Both jobs have their charms.

Him: What are you gonna do?
Me: (shrugging) Not sure. In the end, I suppose all I really want is to raise my son and have a family.
Him: You can’t have it all?
Me: Have it all? (sighing) Clearly, not. If wishes were horses…
Him: …beggars would ride.
Me: (nodding)

Location: not Union Square, lemme tell ya that
Mood: busy, busy, busy
Music: I lost my mind trying to fix broken things (Spotify)
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personal

Catching Ms. Wong

My first show in 13 years

The last show I saw was on a ship when I went to Bermuda. Before that, it was other shows on ships but that’s not quite the same thing as someone picking up tickets to catch a show with you.

Mouse said she bought us tickets to Ali Wong last year but then the pandemic hit and we never got a chance to go.

So the last time I was actually asked to see a show with someone that wanted to go to a show with me was the Coldplay concert I went to with Alison.

That was 13 years ago.

Anywho, although I never got to go Ali Wong the first time around, she ended up doing her show just a few blocks south of my pad (that’s a relevant fact in a moment) and Pac’s girl bought him tickets.

So I posted on FB:

Completely unrelated to that post, a friend of mine hit me up to ask me if I wanted to see the show with her.

There were some technical issues…

Her: Can you go into Ticketmaster and log into my account and print out the tickets? Having all sorts of printer issues.
Me: Sure thing. Just send me the info.
Her: I have new printer but crappy tech skills.
Me: (a minute later) I judge you.

The next thing you know, we were grabbing dinner around the way…

Her: Am I supposed to eat this salad with chopsticks?
Me: Yes, we’re in a Japanese restaurant.
Her: Watch out then. Cause my chopstick skills are a .5 out of 10. There’s gonna be tomatoes flying everywhere.
Me: I’ll get you a fork.
Her: Hey! On a white person scale, that’s a 3 out of 10!
Me: (to waitress) She’s gonna need a fork.

…before heading off to see the show.

Now, while it wasn’t super hot, it was humid as blazes.

So, stumbling outta the restaurant after a few drinks, we first waited for the subway to bring us to the theatre.

Her: Well, it’s only a minute between the two trains.
Me: I can do math, lady!

When we arrived, the person managing the line said, “To speed things up, please have out your tickets, ID, and vaccination card.”

Me: Shoot! I don’t have that with me. Do you?
Her: I have it on my phone.
Me: Dammit! I gotta run home and find it.

And I literally ran.

Like I said, the theatre’s in my hood.

So, in the hot mugginess of the night, I dashed home and tore my entire apartment to shreds looking for that damnable card.

And I found it.

Running back, the line was gone. Most people were seated. Well, maybe not most…

Luckily, I made it in just in time to catch the opening act, who was hilarious. Unfortunately, I didn’t catch his name.

Him: My parents came here to a foreign country, not speaking the language, not knowing anyone, just so their son could have a better life. And then I became a stand up comedian.

Then Ali came on and she killed. It was a bit more risque than I personally like but I still found myself laughing wildly.

Interestingly, she didn’t make a single joke about COVID, which I kinda appreciated.

She did make a lotta jokes about wanting to cheat on her husband, which made me uncomfortable, especially since I just told you about that conversation with an ex I had.

But, in the end, she said she never would because, “A good husband is harder to find than a great wife.”

That, and another line I’ll keep to myself, really made me think.

Afterward, we hit up a local bar and called it a night.

Making it home, I almost drunk dialed someone but decided to try and leave my possible pasts in the past.

Although I got my own drunken text at 3AM, which was pretty random.

All-in-all it was nice to finally catch a show again.

And now I’ve got a gym to finish up.

I just spoke to my son.

Him: I just saw the craziest thing on television. It was so intense!

That made me LOL.

Location: in front of my computer, running credit cards for the biz
Mood: productive
Music: I wanna get to, get to, get to, get to know you like that (Spotify)
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personal

Why an umbrella?

A sad little broken umbrella

Me: Do you have an umbrella for it?
Bartender: (thinking) Wait, I do. You want it just in the can?
Me: Heck, yeah, lady!

Ever since I started this blog, I’ve been writing about my affection for umbrellas in my drinks.

My friends always make fun of me for it; it’s not something that I’ve ever hidden.

I always liked going to Bermuda was because I knew I could always get an umbrella in my drink.

Got a sad little broken one tonight – in a can, of all things – but I was thrilled to get it. They’re much rarer these days around New York.

Part of the reason, admittedly, was so I could say, The night is young and we have umbrellas in our drinks.

I never told anyone the bigger reason though. No one ever asked and it never occurred to me to tell them.

But I’ll tell you.

My father owned one of the first Japanese restaurants in Westchester when I was kid.

I didn’t see much of him at home; I only have a handful of memories of him not in the restaurant. But I was always so excited when I went to see him there. He was my dad, after all.

Think all dads are gods to little boys.

Whenever my brother and I would come in, he would make a big show of his “important guests” and have us sit at the bar. And he’d make each of us a Shirley Temple.

He always topped it off with a maraschino cherry. And a small umbrella.

I remember feeling so cool. And so loved.

We only got one each visit, so I saved them. Lost them all when we moved back to New York City after the restaurant failed.

When the people you love die, you’re left with just these random memories. I never told my dad because I always forgot to bring it up. Another of my 10,000 regrets.

I wanted to call my dad and tell him that I finally got an umbrella tonight. They’re hard to come by, like I said.

And then I remembered that I couldn’t. Fucking cancer.

Wonder what random memories my son will have of me when I’m gone. In some ways, I’m excited for the gym to open just so he’ll have memories of the two of us being there.

I miss my dad. I miss my family. It was a sad little broken umbrella but I thought it was fitting.

Her: …and it was cancer. (pausing) Wait, is this ok to talk about?
Me: (shaking head and pulling out umbrella to take the picture above) It’s fine. When I drink, I’m always 50/50 for breaking down at any minute. Anywho…go on.

Location: my local dive bar, listening to Eric Clapton
Mood: drunk and sad
Music: what have I done? (Spotify)
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Categories
personal

I was right. Yay.

What do you expect?

The boy’s been away for a bit so I could concentrate on the gym and some things I’ve let slide since the theft.

Did manage to see my buddy Jonny for dinner along with Chad. He’s a fun fella and also a partner in the gym.

That’s us at the same place that Gymgirl/Mouse took me to when she graduated and my buddies and I went to before everything went to shit.

In any case, the three of us spent the day doing manual labour. Interestingly, Jonny solved a problem that’s been vexing Chad and me for a while now; it wasn’t as thorny as the sacrifice rod, but still…vexing.

Him: See, you shoulda called me immediately, what with my greater intellect.
Me: That was our first mistake. But what do you expect? We’re Americans. Trump was our president for the last four years.

Also managed to speak to another woman I dated a while ago. She was one of the women that broke the trust covenant with me.

Her: I could never trust you again.
Me: Why is that?
Her: (shrugging) Because I would never know if you were with me because you wanted to be with me or if you wanted to get back at me.

The thing is that I knew this. In fact, I told you about this ten years ago.

It’s weird but it’s part of why I want the boy to read, because, when you read –  unlike when do things like watch TV or videos – you get layers of understanding and complexities you’d never get in a million years otherwise.

There’s this scene in The Godfather book that’s not in the film – dunno why the director kept cutting out these important scenes.

Michael kills his brother-in-law, Carlo, and his wife Kay secretly leaves him. Mike’s brother tries to stop her but she says she can’t stay because she can’t be with a man that can’t forgive.

Mike’s brother says something like, even if Michael truly, truly forgave Carlo, Carlo still “had to be killed. Because treachery can’t be forgiven. Michael could have forgiven it, but people never forgive themselves and so they would always be dangerous….[Michael] loves his sister. But he would be shirking his duty to you and his children, to his whole family, to me and my family, if he let…Carlo go free. They would have been a danger to us all, all our lives.”

And that’s when I truly  understood everything: I forgave her for what she did, but she never forgave herself and could never believe that I forgave her.

She would always think I was plotting to hurt her out of revenge.

It’s why treachery is the ninth and last circle of hell: It destroys things so utterly and completely.

In other words, I was right. Yay.

Cancer and other fucked up shit like that notwithstanding, we all live the lives we create for ourselves and each other.

And here we are.


The boy’s away and won’t be back for a few weeks. This is him in my kali class. It’s funny, but he’s reminiscent of my friend’s dog, dontcha think?

Albeit much cuter, IMHO.

Location: earlier today, being told to buy solvent from a movie star
Mood: hungry
Music: Stops counting the crimes and lays down its pride (Spotify)
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personal

You’re Welcome!

For sure, I’ll be ok

The Heiress is gone from this blog. The details are unimportant but the fact that she had the same cancer as Alison really messed with my head.

She showed me a picture of herself in front of a MRI machine and that sent me for a loop, although I think I hid it well.

I most definitely cannot deal with anything like that ever again.

Like I said, I only have the type of luck people don’t want.

It’s a shame though. She was the first billionaire I met although I wonder if this other fella in our gym is also one as well.

I think I’d like to meet another just for the conversations.

Me: What happened with your ex?
Her: He was going through some things so I bought him a building in Greenpoint so he could recuperate.
Me: Well, if you’re giving away buildings, the kid and I could use a townhouse in Hoboken at some point. Nuthin fancy, but central air would be nice. Oh, and one that doesn’t flood.

I’m really not that picky, considering that I live in a place where a rat swam up the toilet and it flooded, all within two weeks.

Interestingly, the Skinny House in Boston is for sale again; I visited it back in 2018. Boston seems fun but it looks like I’ll be in NYC for at least the next five years, what with the new gym et al.

On that note, Chad and I are both running on fumes trying to get this thing off the ground. As you might expect, it’s all the unexpected stuff that’s slowing us down.

Him: Uh, is that supposed to move like that?
Me: Jesus Christ.

Also, other things in the city seem to be falling apart as well.

My apartment almost flooded again earlier this week so I had plumbers come in today yet again.

And cops were all over the place the other day.

Still, I suppose, though, I am lucky in some ways.

Him: When did mommy die?
Me: (sighing) 2017.
Him: Oh man! That’s was a long time ago. (looking at me) You’ll be ok, papa. I’m here.
Me: (smiling) Then, for sure, I’ll be ok. Thank you.
Him: You’re welcome!

Location: earlier today, ducking out with the kid from some thunderstorms
Mood: exhausted
Music: Summer’s only ending if you let it, babe (Don’t let it) (Spotify)
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personal

I won the lottery

The pyramids were white

Him: It’s a regret of mine, that I never met Alison.
Me: You woulda loved her. She was great.
Him: I also really didn’t know you before she got sick.
Me: I was…better.

Recently spoke to three different women that I spent time with after Alison died, purely by happenstance.

They each told me, in their own ways, that I was not very nice to them (to put it mildly). I can see that. I’ve repeatedly said throughout the years that I’m not a very nice person.

It’s somewhat related to that old quote from Margaret Atwood I told you about years ago:

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

I’ve always been a good writer and a bad person. Suppose some things are constant.

First: I really liked you and you took advantage of me.
Me: I wish I could tell you I remembered or that I didn’t do it. But, that does sound reminiscent of me. For what it’s worth,  I’m sorry.

Oddly, that Atwood entry was about kindness, and these women reminded me just how unkind I can be. Not that I need much reminding.

Second: You made me feel uncomfortable.
Me: You were never anything but kind to me. I’m sorry. Let me know how I can do better.

It made me think of the more recent entry I wrote where I told you that all those Greek and Roman statues you see as white were all painted in bright colours once.

On the flip side, for 3,800 years, the pyramids were a bright white. Then in 1303 CE, an earthquake happened that changed their look to what you know now.

Been working with Chad every single day since the middle of July. I find it odd that he only knows this broken version of me.

I think I was better when she was alive. Something good died in me when she died, I think. Maybe the best parts of me.

Him: You’ve been a good friend to me.
Me: Have I? I wonder about that. I have my own horse in this race.

Just wanna have enough good left in me to raise the boy so he’s better than me.

My mom also broke my heart this past weekend, but for an entirely different reason.

Her: Today’s Chinese Father’s Day. You know, your dad would always buy a lottery ticket and he’d always win.
Me: Really? I never knew that.
Her: Oh, nothing big, nothing big just a few dollars here and there but he won a lot. I never won anything. (quietly) Well that’s not true I guess I won the lottery when I met him.
Me: (sighs) I think you both won.

Location: riding around Riverside with the boy, early this morning
Mood: resigned
Music: Damaged, but I’m copin’, holding on and hopin’ (Spotify)
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personal

That’s really unnecessary

Coinbase finally got back to me

My MIL called me today to tell me that my son rang her while at the park today – he’s got this Dick Tracy watch thingy that we just got repaired.

You can kinda see in the pic above.

She said this was the conversation she overheard.

Him: That’s my grandma! Hi grandma!
Her: Are you with your friends?
Him: Yes. They’re a bit annoying.
Girl: (in the distance) I just wanted to give you a hug.
Him: (turning to her) That’s really unnecessary.

The kid is five. I’m literally raising a 65 year-old Italian man..

One that’s taken to lying on top of the couch cushions a la Snoopy. It’s so funny to see his particular personality develop.

Him: Do you know what street Sandy lives on?
Me: 125th?
Him: Close. But incorrect. She lives on 119th. (gently) It’s ok, papa. Now you know.

I mentioned to my MIL all the peculiar things he says.

Me: I wonder where he picks it up?
Her: (laughing) A lot of it from you!
Me: Really?

For example…

Me: It’s a pen…and a whistle!
Him: (nodding slowly) Well…that was unexpected.

…I didn’t realize that I said, “That was unexpected,” all that much, but there you go.

Was planning on writing more but Coinbase finally got back to me – 49 days after the fact – and pulled me outta this entry.

Evidently, the thieves didn’t get everything.

I can finally get that Metrocard I’ve been saving up for.

Location: just now, telling someone that I didn’t mind the cigarette
Mood: eh
Music: thinking ’bout something you said (Spotify)
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personal

PSA: Change your Sacrifice Rods

Protect what’s valuable

Her: How do you know all these things, Logan?
Me: I don’t get out much.

Alison bailed on our first date. Dunno if I ever fully pointed that out.

So, because I was a womanizer, I literally walked out my door and went on an instant date with a grey-eyed accountant and then with the PCD.

Alison: (irritated) Because I didn’t meet you for a date, you go pick up two other women?!
Me: Technically three. But the PCD was the only one willing to let me write about her. (shrugging) If I wasn’t your fella, I wasn’t going to sit around waiting for something that was never gonna happen.
Her: My hot water tank burst!
Me: Oh. Did you – or your landlord – ever change the sacrifice rod in it?
Her: What?

Water corrodes. That’s what water does. When you have a hot water tank – and, if you live in a house, you definitely have one – that tank is made of metal.

After a few years, no matter what, some part of that metal tank will corrode to the point that the tank bursts. Unless you’ve prepared for the corrosion.

That’s why tanks on top of roofs here in NYC are almost always made of wood.

So what to do?

Well, every hot water tank has something called a sacrificial anode – aka, a sacrifice rod – whose sole purpose is to be more attractive to the electrons in water compared to the tank itself.

In other words, the purpose of the rod – which is made of a highly corrosive metal like magnesium or aluminum – is to die/corrode so that the metal of the tank will not.

From https://sharpe-ers.com.au/2017/03/hot-water-sacrificial-anodes/

Learned this while fixing my parents hot water tank years ago. But it’s useless unless you change it every 1-3 years.

I bring this up for two reasons:

    1. Life is a tragedy fulla joy. So prepare for the coming tragedies. Water corrodes, it’s what it does. Life corrodes us, it’s what it does. So I’ve spent my life separating what is valuable that I have to protect and what is not that can be discarded/sacrificed.
      • I’ll admit that I’ve never expected life to be quite this difficult and I wasn’t prepared for the things I’ve lost.
    2. The first thing I noticed about the new gym was that the hot water tank’s sacrifice rod was corroded shut in the tank. This is never a good thing. After X number of weeks – and a lotta effort by the two of us and every single workman we could ask – Chad and I finally got it out today. That’s how corroded it was. Well, more to the point, one of the Cary, Carey, Kari’s got it out for us.

Me: Honest-to-God, I’ve never seen a sacrifice rod that…gone before.
Chad: Well, it’s done. Cary said that it should be fine.
Me: God, I love that guy. One of has to sleep with him now.
Him: OK, we’ll have to figure out which one of us later.

Change. Your. Sacrifice. Rod.

And figure out what you keep in your life and what you discard.

People around you, situations, will break you down from the inside out. You cannot allow it to change the core of who you are. Things can change and corrode, but never the core of who you are.

I say this as someone who survives, even when I don’t wanna.

Location: earlier today, at Union Square, doing more manual labour
Mood: worried
Music: I needed a friend when I was at the end of myself (Spotify)
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