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personal

The only thing constant in life is change

A storefront in Tribeca, NYC

Admin note: Thanks for being on my side.

———

Him: Well, Logan could show up and teach the class. (thinking) Actually, never mind.
Me: No one would show up!

A constant in my life for the past seven years or so is my fencing class. It’s strange how I ended up there; was taking a wrasslin class maybe a dozen years ago when some numbskull practically tore my arm outta my socket.

Got tired of the rehab so someone mentioned swordplay as an alternative. Turned out there was a class around the corner so I’d been taking it ever since. Despite late nights, injuries, hospital stays due to those injuries, etc – Tuesday nights from 8:30-10:00 was one constant.

The instructor just announced that we’re switching to Thursday nights. It’s weird. It’s just a change of two days but that throws me off. It’s funny what we get used to in life.

Speaking of getting used to, for those of you that’ve been reading me for years, y’know that I used to date. A lot. And the strangest thing about my dating life was that, if I walked into a room, and there was a lacto-ovo pescatarian from NJ, she would find her way to me.

Even met one once on my way out of my fencing class.

Think I dated about 20 of them in that time and met probably double that. Must give off some sorta pheromone.

When I got married, assumed it was just some weird aberration. Until recently.

Her: I’ve decided to be a vegetarian.
Me: But you eat fish and eggs.
Her: Yes, so I’m technically a lacto-ovo pescatarian.
Me: Of course you are.

She’s from Jersey too.

At least some things are constant.

Location: my old chair
Mood: amused
Music: What is broken falls into place once again.
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personal

Good days and bad days

Zebra stripes in NYC

Her: Let’s see what our fortune cookie says. (opens it) “Knowledge is power.” That’s not a fortune, that’s an observation!

Spent most of last week working 16 hours days. Which, during times of personal upheaval, is not necessarily a bad thing.

Think that the subconscious is always processing those things that we can’t or won’t deal with at the moment.

Then again, being an insomniac, always somehow find the time to dwell on things I probably shouldn’t dwell on for too long. All those damn hows and whys.

If you’re at all interested, there’s a story in the bible that gives me comfort in life: 2 Samuel 12:14-23.

David, the king, has a son who gets sick. While the kid’s dying, David’s distraught and won’t sleep or eat. Then the kid dies. David mourns but then rises from his knees and gets something to eat. His advisers don’t understand and say: “When he was sick, you were a mess, and now that he’s gone, you’re eat again.”

To which David goes, “He’s gone and I can’t bring him back. I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.”

Saw my buddy, whose mamma passed away, at the gym. He seems like he’s back to himself. That’s the thing with personal loss, y’have your good days and bad.

Since the beginning of time, all you can do is get up off your knees, ride out the bad days and wait for the next good day. You try to make it to the other side of the crap and get something nice to eat.

Today I start my day with a muffin – which, let’s face it, is really just a naked cupcake. Every once in a while, you should start your day with some cake.

Hoping today’s a good day. Even if it’s not, it starts with some cake.

Mom: Can I do something? Maybe I’ll get you two something.
Me: Well, you could buy us a 55″ LCD TV. That always makes things better.
Her: Really?
Me: (laughing) No mom, I was just kidding. (pause) 60 inches is really the minimum.

Location: in front of my pistachio muffin
Mood: better
Music: Hey, my friend, It seems your eyes are troubled
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personal

Dealing with it: Good souls and IM

View of the Paramount building in NYC

Her: We have the strangest luck.
Him: We’re darned.
Her: That’s exactly it!

Yesterday, wake up to several angry emails.

Run out the door, miss every green light and train.

Arrive late to the office and try to explain to a client that the reason why his doc’s late is cause I asked him for information on 5/24, 5/25, and 5/27 and he only sent me the info yesterday at 10:36AM. He hangs up on me.

Woulda thrown my phone against the wall had I not just bought it.

Have another client tell me I’m wrong about something when I’m not. (Which begs the question: Why hire someone to tell you answers if y’already have all the answers?)

Show up late to fencing class where I get repeatedly stabbed.

Instructor: What’s going on with you tonight?
Me: Sorry, my head was elsewhere.
Him: (stabs me again)

Finally, arrive home where I get some horrible news – the kind where you have to steady yourself by the nightstand and then go to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

Maybe I’ll tell you about it someday. Right now, trying to sort it all out.

But then I climb into bed with my tablet and a random message pops up from a guy I’ve not spoken to in maybe a decade:

logan lo! sup dude…long time no see…wanted to say hi and that i liked ur book….very original…very entertaining….great job and congrats!

When I read that, realize that I’d been clutching a fist the whole time. Take a deep breath and relax my hand to type out a response.

It reminded me of that last time I had a heartbreaking day and a random old friend dropped me a line.

Thank goodness for the good souls, random acts of kindness, and instant messaging.

Dude – I’ve had one of the worst days of my life today. That’s the best thing I heard all day – thanks!

Location: my apartment, dealing with it
Mood: crushed
Music: When I die, Hallelujah, by and by, I’ll fly away
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Categories
personal

Shocked at how late it is

View of NYC from the rear

Me: I’ve been practicing.
Him: (shrugging)

Haven’t been doing much beyond working although I do find time to hit the gym. My fencing instructor had me work on something call the Contradas (counters). Been a while since I’d done them so I was surprised that I remembered them.

My instructor rarely speaks much, much less give any compliments; know I’ve done something right when he doesn’t say anything. He’s kinda an old, crotchety, silent-type. Then again, don’t do anything for the accolades. Only to be better than I was the day before.

Have all these French and Chinese books around the house. Always figured I’d learn them again but never got around to it.

If I could live for a thousand years, I imagine all the books I’d read. After all, I value the acquisition of knowledge above all else. There never seems to be enough time.

And every time I look up, am always shocked how late it is. In more ways than one.

———-

Me: (opening a jar) I spend a lot of time saying, “I wonder if that’s spoiled?
Her: And then you get sick.
Me: (getting spoon) Hopefully not today.

Got a little sick.

Location: in front of the computer, all day
Mood: rushed
Music: it’s clear I’ll always be the same Until the end of time
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personal

Hills from which we look and caves in which we hide

A shrub in Times Square, NYC

Him: I remember your ex. She was a ______.
Me: I don’t think so. No 30 year old woman in a happy relationship looks to cheat. I wasn’t very nice to her.
Him: I knew you back then, you weren’t that bad.
Me: We all have our three lives: public, private, and secret.

Spent the holiday weekend working for the most part. One major downside for essentially working for yourself is that the work never really stops.

Every free moment you have, you’re thinking, I should be doing something.

We did find time to catch up with season 6 of Dexter, which reminded me of my three lives. Recently met a woman who said that she had no regrets in life cause, “To regret would mean I’m not proud of something in my life.”

Thought that was one of those things that have the air of truth but no real truth to it.

I’m not saying you should live your life fulla regrets crying over your possible pasts. Then again, a life of no regrets means that you’ve not done any growth at all.

Show me a guy that’d make the exact same choices at 39 he’d make at 19, and I’ll show you a guy that’s wasted 20 years of his life.

Onea the friends I cut, thinks that I cut him cause of some fights we had. That’s partly true. The main reason he got cut, however, is cause he finds it noble that he hasn’t “sold out” – whatever that means.

Suppose that means that he wants to remain the same while the world around him changes.

F Scott Fitzgerald once said that: At 18 our convictions are hills from which we look; at 45 they are caves in which we hide.

In reality, he’s less an artist and more just some dude living in a cave.

As for me, thought about writing my ex an email saying I’m sorry. I didn’t do any one majorly bad thing to her – it was more a series of thoughtless actions and stupid arguments over nuthin.

In the end, decided against writing. Instead, I’ll add that to my list of ten thousand regrets. Some things are better left hidden deep in caves.

Got other secrets too. But these aren’t bad ones.

I’ll tell you about them someday.

Location: on my stoop, telling workmen to keep it down
Mood: regretful
Music: Days seem to last forever but the weeks fly by
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Categories
personal

You either just do it or you don’t

Me: I’m sorry I’m late.
Him: It’s fine. I’m just glad you came.

Yesterday was a strange and sad day.

Part of my job’s to do site inspections around the state for things.

Yesterday, was in an orthodox Jewish neighborhood in Brooklyn checking out a building when the property contact and I went to the roof. There, at 12:30 in the afternoon, a bunch of people were drinking and smoking.

Thought for sure a fight was gonna break out.

Ended up being lotsa talk and stare-downs and me wondering in the background why every guy in the world thinks he’s Pacino or DeNiro, ready to die like a hero.

If you can actually fight, you don’t talk about the stuff you’re gonna do. You either just do it or you don’t. Luckily the property contact was an adult and just called up for some help.

Afterward, rushed home to change into a suit to go downtown.

Said it once before: The sweetest words in the English language’re I’m on my way.

My buddy’s mom passed away. Made it down to the funeral home just at the very end.

My wrasslin coach and other fellas from the gym showed up before me to pay their respects too.

The older you get, the more funerals you go to. It’s a crap milestone but one we all reach.

There’s really not much you can say at them. It’s not the words that matter any way. As sweet as the words I’m on my way are, the most important thing’s the being there.

In the end, you don’t talk about being there, you’re just either there or you’re not. You either just do it or you don’t.

It’s so true: A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own.

When we take the blows life gives us, if we’re lucky, good souls‘ll be there – not to take the blows for us, but to pick us up, bloodied and battered, afterward.

Him: The other guys showed up in suits. Suits! Can you believe it? They musta brought them to the gym and came here afterward.
Me: (laughing) I can’t picture it.

Location: home, for now
Mood: pensive
Music: Sometimes I get to feelin’ I was back in the old days
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personal

Bearing it

Took the bike from my pad on the UWS to my gym on 27th street twice over the weekend.

The first time I did it, it was harrowing. Then on the way back, it was a little less so. And even less the next day.

There’s this saying that I’m sure I’m going to mangle but it goes something like this: There is no situation that you cannot bear if you see those around you bearing it.

When you read things that people have done – trench warfare, the D-day invasion, Thermopoylae – it does seem to explain a lot.

After a couplea large buses whizzed past me, was thinking: What the hell am I doing? Until this little old lady puttered past me.

Laughed at myself as she went by.

Course, there’re times when there’s no laughter and all the bravery you can muster isn’t enough cause it’s something that truly puts you on your knees.

A buddy has a sick family member who’s not going to get better. These are hard words to hear and, obviously, much harder to say.

And there’s never really much to say to someone that tells you such things, just a lotta goddamn nodding. Wish I could offer him more than my condolences and a pat on the back.

In my head, though, I know he’s tough. I know that he’ll overcome the blow even if he doesn’t know it himself. And I wish them all peace.

Later that weekend, I sit in the back of my church and think about all those how and whys.

And then I come home and make some calls for no particular reason.

Him: Hey! How are you?
Me: I’m good, dad. Just thought I’d call. Oh, I bought a bike…

Location: a magical place called Staten Island
Mood: busy
Music: got to push on through but while I’m gone
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personal

Losing half of your friends

The past few days have been amazing.

Her: We’re never taking that red envelope down!
Me: Never.

———-

Met up with Paul and Hazel in the hood for some drinks the other night.

Paul I met through a class I took with my ex while Hazel’s the sister of a really good college buddy.

The funny thing about life’s that you never know who’s gonna end up in your Venn Diagram and who’s not. If I want you to believe anything I’ve learned, it’s that.

Recently sent an FB invitation to one of my closest friends from college and just realized last night that he never got back to me after about a month.

That’s the thing that you don’t realize as a kid. Remember my dad had this awful fight about one of my friends when I was a kid. Now the friend, I don’t remember very well, but the fight I remember. These people we think of as all-so-important end up just a footnote in your life – or your tiny little blog.

Once wrote about that statistic where, every seven years, you lose more than halfa your friends. The person y’think of as your best friend only has a 30% chance of staying in that role.

Wonder how things like the Internet and FB changes that dynamic.

As for the friend that never responded, that’s just how things go. We’ve all been on both sides of those choices.

Speaking of technology, swapped an older toy for a newer one.

This is probably the tech equivalent of getting a Ferrari as a mid-life crisis. Only far dorkier.

Location: getting ready to brave Trader Joe’s
Mood: busy
Music: It’s all the same, only the names will change
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personal

Mother is the name for God

Me: Do you have a 紅包 (red envelope)? I want to give a business associate a gift.
Mom: (excitedly) Oh, I have just the thing! (disappears and returns a moment later)
Me: Mom! I’m not giving a Hello Kitty envelope to anyone. Ever.
Her: (disappointed) But it’s so cute…. Soooo, cute.

Couldn’t make it out on the actual mother’s day to see my mom but did see her on Friday.

She eventually gave me some envelopes with the word “luck” on it and told me to hang one upside down over the door frame so the luck would pour down on me.

Told her that my luck is of the odd stripe, but did any way cause she’s my momma.

In The Crow, the hero/anti-hero quotes a fellow named William Makepeace Thackeray who said that Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.

Truer words were never spoken.

Me: Do you want to go on a bike ride?
Her: OK.

The wife and I took a spin on Saturday. The weather was perfect. We went from the 50s to the 90s and back again before grabbing a bite to eat outside.

Everything went just fine until I dropped my brand new bike light into the Hudson River. Me and my darned luck. The red envelope musta been empty.

Me: It looks like every time we go out for a ride, we’re going to spend about $12 on a new tire or a new light.
Her: Looks that way.

It’s a small price to pay.

Location: desk, waiting for people to get back to me
Mood: anxious
Music: I feel so low, Mamma, where do I go?
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Categories
business

No sleep till the job’s done

Me: (to waitress) I’ll have a acai caipirinha.
Nadi: (to waitress) Put an umbrella in it?
Me: Please don’t.
Her: Logan, it’s a purple drink.

Been crazy busy lately. Did manage to find time to meet up with my old co-workers again this past Monday, which is always fun.

Last night, gave another lecture on the law. Despite my being pretty much exhausted, thought it went pretty well. That is until the wife started cracking up at home.

Her: You know that Beastie Boy reference you made?
Me: Yeah?
Her: You called MCA, AMC.
Me: Oh for pete’s sake…

That’s onea the dangers of doing all that I do with as little sleep as I usually get. That lecture’s gonna be up for a long time and I’ll forever be that guy that made a Beastie Boy reference and then got the name wrong.

Ended up at the Harvard Club in midtown where the other speaker bought me a drink. Didn’t have any good rums on deck so I had a Macall ofn on the rocks. Was good but nuthin beats my rum – with or without an umbrella.

Got home to some really terrific news but that’s a post for another time.

As for now, no sleep till Brooklyn the job’s done.

Location: getting dressed for work
Mood: exanimate
Music: born and bred in Brooklyn, the USA. They call me Adam Yauch, but I’m MCA.
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