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Someone that believes in himself

Better than the alternative

I finally got my piña coladas the other day. No umbrella in it but beggars can’t be choosers.

You see, my cousin, Ras, didn’t come with us the last time Cho, Mouse, Chad, and I went off to get seafood so she suggested we go there earlier this week.

Cho picked up Ras first and then Mouse and me. Chad wasn’t feeling well so he wasn’t going to come but Mouse rang him up and found out that he was fine and just being overly-cautious.

Mouse: You have 15 minutes to get dressed, we’re picking you up.
Him: I’ll need more than 15 minutes, I have to…
Her: (interrupting) You can just put on your makeup in the car. We’ve all done that. 15 minutes.

So off we went. It took us 15 minutes to travel the 10 blocks we needed to get out of Manhattan, and then 15 minutes to go the next 10 miles.

That’s driving in Manhattan for you.

While on the way to the restaurant, we saw this massive truck try to parallel park into this tiny spot.

Me: Now that’s someone that believes in himself.
Her: God, how small is his stuff that he needs a truck that big?

We ended up ordered the same thing we got last time.

Ras, Chad, and Henry: We’re stuffed.
Mouse and me: We’re ordering two more stone crabs, one snow crab, and potatoes.
Ras: You two are animals.

Mouse didn’t say a word for the next 20 minutes as she silently made those crabs regret being born.

I managed to say a few words in between bites and more piña coladas.

The next day, Mouse made made me a lunch of grilled fish with a low-carb creamy cauliflower risotto.

Now, she’s cooked for me before but this was honestly the best thing she ever made me – so much so that I asked her for the recipe.

What I got from my request was not only the recipe itself, but also vindication that it’s not just my mind that was going, because Mouse did to me, exactly what I did to her just a few weeks ago.

Me: Can you send me that recipe?
Mouse: Sure. (sends me the recipe, my phone beeps) Oh, you have a notification.
Me: Oh? Wait, that was was you texting me the recipe!
Her: What the heck!? I guess I’m getting old.

We all are. Getting old is a blessing, though – it’s better than the alternative.

Podcast Version
Location: early this morning, getting a gyro with my coach
Mood: hangry
Music: they don’t know about you and I(Spotify)

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So far and so fast…

Some judgement

Me: I can’t believe that I’m here with you yahoos instead of in Miami drinking a pina colada.
Frenemy: Wait, you’re telling me you’d rather have sun and beach than be here discussing our roofs?
Me: I’m as surprised as you are.
Him: Come by next week and we’ll get some coffee. It’s not a pina colada but still…

You see, Mouse got me tickets to Miami because she knows that November’s a rough month for me.

But, between the tropical storm on Sunday in Florida, the rising COVID rates, and me not getting anything done AND not spending time with the kid, we both felt it was best we not go.

Instead, Mouse got some work done and met up with me later on in the night on Saturday because I had to deal with more building drama.

But I wanted to be out and about earlier because of the Biden news and because the weather was perfect.

And because I was supposed to be on a sandy beach with a cocktail in my grubby little hands. (Obvs, I’m still upset about that).

I knew that Chad was on an Old Fashioned kick so I rang him.

Me: If I got you an Old Fashioned and a Philly Cheesesteak, could I convince you to head up here?
Him: Fuck, yeah.

It seems everyone else had the same idea because every joint we went to was booked solid. We finally ended up at Jake’s Dilemma near me. The waitress comped us shots – I seem to get comped shots a lot – because our food took forever.

Chad eventually made his way home and Mouse came by afterward just as I was pouring myself a tall glass of rum and diet Coke.

Her: That’s a lotta diet Coke
Me: I sense some judgement there
Her: You sense correctly

It ended up being a pretty good weekend after all. Not Miami good, but I’ll take what wins I can.

On a different matter entirely, Paul stopped by today for the first time since COVID went down and then our friend KTO sent this picture of the three of us that was taken exactly 12 years ago today.

Man, time flies. So far and so fast…

Podcast Version
Location: not a beach, lemme tell ya…
Mood: bummed
Music: keep on rolling even on the bad days (Spotify)

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You bet your sweet…

I’ll always come back

After my son’s birthday, I headed back home to my pad, leaving him with my in-laws once again.

Him: Will you come back?
Me: I’m legally required to come back for you for another 13 years.
Him: I’ll miss you. You’ll come back, right?
Me: I’ll always come back for you, kid. You’re my 宝贝.

It was an unpleasant trip home for personal reasons I’m sure you can guess. It got worse once I got home.

You see, my internet was down when we left that morning and Time Warner/Spectrum said that it was an area outage type thing but I got a text on my phone that it was resolved that afternoon.

It wasn’t.

So, once I got back, I rang Spectrum at 11:30 at night. The fella I spoke to said my connection was fine, it was an issue with my Linksys router. So I gave them a call. The lady from Linksys said the my router and modem weren’t talking.

I decided to conference call both Spectrum and Linksys and they told me to hook up the modem directly to my computer.

Me: The only computer I have with an ethernet port is like 10 feet away and my longest ethernet cable is six feet.
Linksys: Well, you’ll have to call us both back when you can get an ethernet cable that can reach.
Me: Wait, I can crimp one myself. Can you two wait like 10 minutes?
Spectrum: I’m sorry, what do you mean crimp a cable together yourself? You’re going to make an ethernet cable?
Me: You bet your sweet ass, man. Can you hold on?
Both: Yes?

When Buckley and I first moved into this place 20-something years ago, he and I wired the whole place with Cat5 cable. Because I’d converted most of my wiring to Cat5E cable back on day 7 of the pandemic, I knew I still had some Cat5 attached to my bedroom wall.

So at 12:30AM, I tore it off my bedroom baseboard and cut both ends of it. Then I dug up my old Ethernet crimper and two RJ45 connectors and made myself a 15ft ethernet cable. Give or take.

Me: I’m back, I’m done. It’s plugged in.
Spectrum: You just crimped your own ethernet cable? Right now?
Me: Yup. Can you see my computer?
Him: Hold on…yes. I think you’re the first person I’ve ever spoken to that crimped his own ethernet cable while on the phone with us.
Me: That’s how I roll, man. Linksys, can I let this guy go and you and I fix this problem then?
Her: Sure.

By 1:30AM, I had internet again. Exhausted, I went to bed and woke up to find out that Biden won the election.

It’s been a weird and sad week. And there was more to come.

Podcast Version
Location: home, with working internet
Mood: bummed
Music: So many birthdays that I missed (Spotify)

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You realize it’s my birthday

We’ve got a ticket to ride

While I didn’t get to do any of the things I’d planned with him, it was nice to have the boy home for a few days.

But, after being away for over seven months, he’d forgotten a lotta things about our home so he spent the first hour or so reacquainting himself with the pad.

And, at the end of the night, he was a bit worried about sleeping in his room again.

Me: Why?
Son: I don’t want be alone.
Me: Kid, we live in a two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan; I’m never more than 18 feet from you at all times. Go to bed.
Him: OK. See you in the morning.

It was both weird and nice to have him home. I spent the remainder of the evening cleaning up after our day before I went to bed myself.

I’d only been sleeping a few hours a night because of work and the building issues but my son woke me up early the next day.

I wasn’t fully awake so as I turned away to try to get a few more minutes of sleep, he stood there quietly for a moment.

Him: Papa?
Me: (sleepily) Yes?
Him: You realize it’s my birthday today, yes?

And I was instantly awake and gave him the biggest hug.

He’s such a good and clever kid. I keep thinking that Alison woulda been so happy with and proud of her little boy.

I didn’t get to spend nearly as much time as I’d wanted with him but it was better than nuthin. Brought him back to my in laws and we celebrated his birthday properly out there.

Because of everything going on with the building and my son, I didn’t vote for the first time in over 16 years. Even when Alison was sick, I voted.

But, in the end, I got what I wanted.

My cousin Roz came by after Biden won and we chatted about the election.

Her: I thought you were a conservative.
Me: I am. But he’s not a conservative, he’s just a crook.
Her: So you’re a democrat now?
Me: I’m for the best person for the job, that’s the only thing that should matter.

Yet, it’s not.

Podcast Version
Location: home, reading up on COVID
Mood: pensive
Music: don’t know why she’s ridin’ so high (Spotify)

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Right. Our home.

It’s our home

Like the rest of you, I’m glued to my computer/phone/television checking to see if we have four more years of imbecility or something normal.

Suppose I’ll comment on that at some later date.


I’ve not posted because November’s a rough month for me; it was the beginning of the end of my life as I knew it. That’s when Alison first collapsed.

That’s all I’ll say about that.

I also ended up hurting my back doing jits, recently.

Mouse: You’re old.
Me: I am but I look great. Everything hurts, but still. (laughs)
Her: You keep laughing like that, you’re gonna hurt something else.

The plan was for me to head out to NJ to spend Halloween with my son but before that happened, we had a cold snap here in NYC and my boiler wouldn’t start.

Turns out the computer had fried so I scrambled all day Friday to try to get a replacement computer.

Me: How much for a new one?
Representative: $5,000…
Me: Jesus Christ.
Him: …plus tax.
Me: Well, you gotta give me time to knock over a bank first.

I eventually found a distributer in deep Brooklyn for a little more than half that and went there with a friend to pick it up.

Afterward, Mouse drove me back because she was heading into the city. She led a conference call while I drove and it was impressive to say the least.

Me: Thanks for dropping everything for me. As usual.
Her: I try and help.

Finally got the computer back home and hired a guy to install it. That was another adventure of the stripe no one wants but that’s another matter entirely.

Then I dashed off to see my son in NJ for Halloween. Even though we couldn’t go out to trick-or-treat, my mother-in-law had a great idea to have Halloween indoors.

Essentially, each of us took a room and hid candy in it; the boy knocked on the door for each room and went on the hunt. He seemed to have a good time. The hope is that he doesn’t realize what he’s missing out on, which I suspect he doesn’t.

In some ways, I wonder if blissful ignorance is better. I know too much that I don’t wanna know.

Afterward, the plan was for him to come home with me for a few days for the first time in over half a year. But, it wasn’t at all what I’d hoped it would be.

I find certain things more cutting than I should, perhaps.

Me: Are you going to be ok away from your grandparents?
Him: I’m going to miss them a lot, but I’ll be happy to be in your home.
Me: No, it’s our home.
Him: Right. Our home.

Everything’s fucked up and not at all how it should be.

But it’s late, so I’ll tell you that part next week.

Podcast Version
Location: our home – his and mine
Mood: shitty
Music: I can’t believe she’s gone (Spotify)

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You get to decide

World Class

For the handful of readers that’ve been reading me since the beginning, I started this blog because I was dating this fairly well-known reporter and we broke up.

I thought I loved her, the way 20-somethings think love is like.

We had moments when I thought we might get back together but it wasn’t really what either of us really wanted. It wasn’t really her fault, I wasn’t a great boyfriend to her.

The ex, back when I was young and had a lotta hair.

I wanted Alison and I spent the next two years looking for her. When I met her, I was a lot nicer to her than the reporter because she was what I actually wanted.

Alison was everything I ever really wanted, actually. But that’s neither here nor there.

I mentioned to a friend that Jeff Bezos went to Princeton to study theoretical physics. The problem was that he was good at it.

Just like I was a good boyfriend to the reporter. I just wasn’t a great boyfriend to her. And Jeff Bezos wasn’t a great theoretical physicist.

The day Jeff Bezos realized that he was only ever going to be a good theoretical physicist was the day he started to become something great.

Asked another friend if he recognized anyone from the that picture you see above.

Him: Not really.
Me: Look at the fella in the middle. In the red sequins. That’s Dr. Dre.
Him: Holy shit!

Dr. Dre was part of a boy band called World Class Wreckin’ Cru (along with DJ Yella) and they sang funk. But WCWC was only ever going to ok – good-enough.

And Dre wanted to be great. He’s almost a billionaire right now. Even if you didn’t like NWA, or The Chronic, you probably like Beats headphones.

I told two people today that their setbacks might be setting them up for what they were really meant to be. Who they were really meant to be.

After all, you can’t shoot an arrow unless you draw it back first.

Alison’s favourite author was F. Scott Fitzgerald, who once said: There are no second acts in American lives.

I always loved Alison and always hated Fitzgerald. Onea the reasons is that quote, which is fulla shit.

Him: I’ve been thinking a lot about who I used to be and I don’t want to be that guy anyone. I don’t think I can be.
Me: Good. This is your chance to be the person you know you can be. You get to decide what your life is like.

I only got to live the life I always wanted for five days.

But, I suppose that there are people out there that didn’t even get that.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

Podcast Version
Location: early this morning, having some rum with my coffee
Mood: not well
Music: On silver stars I wish and wish and wish (Spotify)

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The Shot Queen

It all started with a war

Well over a decade ago, my cousin, Ras, just graduated college and was wondering what to do with herself.

I remember telling her that most people don’t think about lifestyle but, for me, that’s the most important thing: How do you want your life to be? Do you want to wake up early or late? Be in an office or work from home? Work a little seven days a week or do a hard five and have your weekends?

I just had that same conversation with Chad today, in fact, but that’s a story for another time.

My cousin, however, took my advice and took on a profession related to mine, which meant a ton of tests over the years. She just took the latest one just a few days ago.

Since she’d helped me with a project recently, I told her to hit Mouse and me up when she finished.

Ras: That was sooooo stressful! Meet you at your place?
Me: Come on up!

Can’t speak for the rest of Manhattan but my hood’s definitely waking up from COVID; the three of us waited around for over half-an-hour to get some food around the way.

Did I ever tell you that it was Ras that introduced Mouse and me? That’s neither here nor there but I figured I should mention it.

I suspect that she had no idea that we’d ever get together. Then again, Mouse and I had no idea either.

In any case, we finally got seated, served, and started shoveling food into our pie holes.

And drink.

Me: There’s something about day drinking that I love.
Mouse: Who doesn’t love day drinking?
Ras: I can’t finish my food, do one of you…
Me: (takes food starts eating)
Ras: I guess you want it, Logan.

Afterward, we went to a Japanese restaurant where I bought them all three rounds of drinks and some oysters.

We  had the whole joint to ourselves.

And I told them some stories.

Me: You know, Uncle Jay told me stories about our family. Did you know for hundreds of years, no Lo was allowed to marry anyone with the last name Wei?
Ras: Really? Why?
Me: OK, it all started with a war and we chose the wrong side…

The bartender was impressed enough by how much we were pounding that he bought us a round of shots.

Me: It doesn’t feel right if there isn’t a round of shots when Ras is around.
Ras: Well, I am the Shot Queen.

Actually, I dunno if the bartender realized that it was the second time he bought me a round of drinks.

After that, we were all two sheets to the wind. Yet, Ras somehow made it home across the river and then met up with more of her friends that night for dinner.

Mouse: I don’t know how that girl does it. I’ve gotta take a nap.
Me: These are good life choices we’re making.
Her: Shhhh. Sleep.

Podcast Version
Location: early this morning, injuring my back in LIC
Mood: injured
Music: You put your hand on top of my hand (Spotify)

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The unexamined life

Building walls

Back when I was still focused on Alison, there was a young man named Rich who was just enamored with Trump.

Him: He wants to build a wall, protect the workers here.
Me: But most people don’t come into the US in a way where a wall would work.

It turns out that, the wall had been conceived by two consultants “to get Trump to remember to talk about immigration.”

Put another way, it wasn’t meant to ever be a literal thing, it was just meant as a shorthand to keep someone as jawdroppingly stupid as Trump on the right page to have something to talk about with immigration.

But he took it and ran with it.

Even though it didn’t make any sense. Even thought it didn’t do what it was ostensibly meant to do – keep out immigrants – it did what it was really meant to do, which was keep Trump talking about immigration.

You’ll note that he never mentions it or the wall anymore. But I digress.

I got into a FB tiff with a friend because I told her that rent regulation didn’t work. Because it doesn’t.

Do you know why rent regulation was invented? It was invented to stop an emergency: To keep WWII veterans from coming back and getting price gouged.

That was the emergency.

Do you know of any other 75-year-old emergencies? Kinda really stretches the concept of an “emergency,” yeah?

Rent regulation goes against basic economic principles: If you take away 45% of the supply – NYC is roughly 45% rent-regulated – then the remaining 55% becomes astronomically high. It makes it so that the people lucky enough to get it, get cheap rent, while everyone else subsidizes them.

After all, non-market income doesn’t change the fact that everything else – utilities, taxes, mortgages – is a market expense.

Study after study shows that rent regulation doesn’t work.

Just like study after study shows the wall won’t work.

I mentioned this and she wrote back, “So, you just want to fuck the poor, Logan?”

Rich, when I told him the wall won’t work said, “So, you just want to steal jobs from Americans to give to criminals?”

I said once that I live by some basic rules: Is it true? seems like such a stupid one.

And yet, it’s the one that people mess up the most, I think.

My female friend wants to believe that rent regulation works and if I don’t believe that, I must want to “fuck the poor.”

Rich wants to believe that the wall works, and if I don’t believe that, I must want “to steal jobs from Americans to give to criminals.”

Funny thing is that they both defriended me.

That’s what happens if you don’t ask yourself that simple basic question: Is it true?

The less you ask that question, the more you find things that are actually true, repulsive.

The truth becomes grotesque.

When you live an unexamined life, you start becoming part of the world’s problems.

You build walls, to protect the comforting untrue things from the repulsive true things. And people just become another ugly thing you don’t want to see.

Eh, I don’t blame them.

I find myself grotesque and I’d defriend me too if I had the chance.

Podcast Version
Location: still in this fucking house
Mood: homesick
Music: I was just guessing at numbers and figures (Spotify)

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All the Wrong Ghosts

Keys

Johnny called me the other day. I didn’t pick up.

I called the Devil the other day. He didn’t pick up.

All the wrong ghosts haunt me.

Movie: “You have 212 more supplicants to see you.”
Me: (to wife) That’s why we have judges – they act on the king’s behalf because the king couldn’t possib…
Alison: I have to write down everything you tell me while watching movies and television and call it, Stuff my husband tells me during movies and television.

Did you ever wonder why “movie trailers,” are called that, even though they come before the movie?

Or why the Three Musketeers candy bar is called that, when it’s one single bar?

The former is because the trailer used to trail the main film but no one stuck around to watch them, so they switched it.

The latter’s because it used to be three different candy bars – chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry – until just after WWII when it cost too much to make all three flavours.

The thing is that these things just stick around, long after they make any sense to anyone.

In this post, I wrote about putting up a key holder for Alison and me. I never put up a picture of it because I was worried about someone being able to duplicate our keys from the picture so I never did.

But, after the gate incident with Pac, I replaced my locks, so it’s a moot point.

I took that picture up above with Alison on June 6, 2014 and told her that her spot would always be the first hook.

She hung up her keys at the end of October, 2015 and never took them down again. They’re still there now. If you ever come over, those are her keys.

I never touch them.

I always tell myself that this is the year I’ll take them down but I can’t bring myself to do it. Which makes no sense, I know.

But, neither do trailers or single chocolate bars called Three Musketeers.

It’ll be November soon. I’ll be drinking again then.

Who am I kidding? I’ve already started. Because.

Podcast Version
Location: this fucking house
Mood: not good
Music: Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me (Spotify)

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A Kettle of Hawks

Predators versus Prey

The last time I went to see the boy, there were these huge birds of prey in the back yard picking at the carcass of a deer.

Mother-in-law: City boy, you should go out and take a look.

So, off I went with my son.

I told the boy to be quiet so as not to scare off the kettle of hawks that were all around it. He obliged, in a manner of speaking – he was silent but also ran about like a madman so the birds flew off to nearby branches.

Presently, I brought the boy back in and went in for a closer look. I managed to see a bit more but they flew off nonetheless. It smelled like death.

When I went back in, my sister-in-law asked me if I saw anything.

Me: Not really, I think I scared them off.
Her: I wonder if they thought you were were hunting them.
Me: Probably, I have the eyes of a predator.
Her: What does that mean?
Me: All humans do. Our eyes are in front of us, so we can pinpoint things and hunt them down. Prey – deer, rabbits, etc – they have their eyes on the side of the heads so they can see animals like us coming.

Part of the reason I never mentioned the knife stuff – beyond calling it “fencing,” all this time, which isn’t strictly incorrect – was because most people are far removed from what we actually are: Animals.

Clothed animals, but animals nonetheless.

We’re predators. We’re meant to stalk and hunt things. That’s what we were created for. It’s neither a good nor a bad thing, it’s merely a thing.

Just like where our eyes are. We don’t think about it much – you probably never have – it’s just where they are.

Me: Guard up, boy.
Son: Do I have to?
Me: Yes.
Him: Why?
Me: Because this is what we do. Guard up.

And yet, I wonder what would happen if we had to be predators again? Some of us would do fine, I think. Most of us would struggle.

Although, truth be told, I honestly don’t know know how I would do if I had to fend completely for myself, for myriad reasons.

Me: Ouch!
Mouse: You stubbed your toe again?!
Me: (nodding in pain)
Her: Man, when you’re a klutz, you get hurt. When I’m a klutz, you get hurt…
Me: Still…can’t…talk…

Speaking of knife stuff, here’s the latest episode of Scenic Fights, Fight Scene Breakdown – the duel scene from The Man from Nowhere.

Podcast Version
Location: staying away from my damnable coffee table that’s trying to kill me
Mood: only ok
Music: just send me that ambulance (Spotify)

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