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Showerheads and Siblings

Main Character Syndrome

Reading about the psychopath that blew up the IVF center in California gave me so many mixed emotions, least of which this asshole decided his opinion of the world trumped everyone else’s opinion of the world.

I don’t get how people think it’s ok, or even reasonable, to force their worldviews on others.

Like, that’s the ultimate in main character syndrome I can imagine.

But I digress.

Perfect Circles dropped me a line recently.

Her: Pregnant again! Number three joining us in August. Plainly we’ve lost our minds but it just felt like the gang wasn’t all here yet.
Me: That’s amazing, congrats!! Oh man, that was my dream, to have three kids. Alison only ever wanted to have two. Sigh.

Told her that I was thrilled for her, which is true.

But then that got me thinking: I’ve got a few embryos out in the world that I’m still struggling to figure out what to do with.

I’ve always wanted another child but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards.

In any case, one idea was to donate them to couples in need – ie, a couple that can’t produce a child on their own.

I seriously considered it in the past, but there’s an interesting phenomenon where people that are biologically related – a fact that they often don’t know initially – find each other and fall in love.

There’re a buncha stories like this:

    • Reddit reported revealed that a woman found out her six-year relationship with her boyfriend was really a six-year relationship with her biological brother after taking a DNA.
    • A Mississippi couple found out that – not only were they brother and sister – they were also twins!
    • A lesbian couple have suspicions that they might be half-siblings but plan on remaining a couple.
    • A couple from Brazil – with a six-year-old child – found out that they were actually brother and sister, both of whom were abandoned by their mother as children. The kicker is that they found this out together and live on the radio.

It’s not hard to see how they might fall in love; after all, we’re equal parts nature and nurture.

In fact, you can see how a hypothetical conversation might go:

Him: I love 80s music.
Her: Me too, my favourite band is Duran Duran.
Him: OMG, me too! I went to their last concert in London back in 2022.
Her: Wait, I was there too!

I’d read about this phenomenon ages ago but I was recently reminded of it when I visited my sister the other day.

I never told her that I fixed my bathroom but when I went to use her newly renovated bathroom, I found out that:

We both picked the same shower head – in the same colour to boot!

The one on the left is my sisters and mine is on the right. They’re the same colour – it’s just the lighting that makes it look different.

AND we picked the exact same tiles!

These are hers…

…and these are mine.

Again, we both did our bathrooms without discussing it with the other.

Anywho, yeah, I don’t think I’ll give those embryos away…

Location: the wet rain
Mood: brrrrrrr
Music: Tell me all the things that you like (Spotify)
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Our Bathroom Reno, Pt. 2

Soldiering on

Now, this whole renovation thing really started when we admired the ABFF’s bathroom and she offered us her leftover tiles.

The tiles were gorgeous and the right amount, so we hired her guys and expected to use them.

Unfortunately, her tiles were wall tiles, and we needed floor tiles; her’s were too thin and too slippery for us to use.

So, the reason we started the whole project in the first place was moot.

But, it was too late, we already started the work, so we had to soldier on.

On top of all this madness, the Firecracker made a major mathematical error and ordered a TON more green tiles than we needed.

Me: I thought you were a teacher!
Her: English! I was an English teacher!
Me: Blargh.

But it ended up being ok because we decided to do an accent wall that, originally, I wasn’t keen on but ended up being quite nice.

This bathroom is right off my bedroom so that meant that dust was *everywhere* and my bedroom was like a live-action Tetris.

But we were making quick progress.

After just 10 days, it was really coming together.

The Firecracker’s been pleased as punch since we finished up.

Close to the finish line!

Me?

I’m just happy that she’s happy AND I’ve got my room back.

Mostly.

2025
2009
2025
2009

Location: earlier today, under a 200 pound blackbelt getting strangled
Mood: exhausted
Music: If I could count the stupid things I do for you (Spotify)
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Our Bathroom Reno, Pt. 1

Not just touching things up

When Buckley and I first bought our pad 21 years ago (!!), we set aside about $30,000 to:

    • Completely gut renovate our front bathroom.
    • Fix the shower in the back bathroom.
    • Completely redo the floors and several panels of drywall in our basement.
2009

My apartment is a one-bedroom that, for some odd reason, has three bathrooms, which is pretty darn convenient I gotta say, despite how odd it is.

The front bathroom was the one that everyone used because it was so nice.

The back bathroom, was essentially just used for emergencies all these years.

After all, it didn’t even have a working radiator, so it was effectively unusable three months outta a year.

It was a huge waste of space.

This is what it looked like when Alison was here.

2009 – The mirror was bronze, so it was so dark that it was practically unusable.

Whoever thought that pink and red was a good colour scheme for a bathroom probably wore parachute pants as well, because – like the pants – it definitely didn’t stand the test of time.

Always told Alison that it would be the room that we renovated together.

But, as you know, that and so many of our beautiful plans never came to be.

We had already had the old bronze mirror replaced by the time we started demoing.

In any case, when the Firecracker moved in, she wanted to leave her mark here so I said that, if ever there was an occasion, we’d fix the back bathroom.

Me: Alison always hated it and I’m not a big fan either.
Her: OK, well, maybe we can start small and save up money to do a complete renovation as some point.

Well, the other day, we had dinner with the ABFF and she had just done her bathroom and had a ton of tiles left over.

She offered them and her guys’ contact information as well.

One thing led to another, and before you knew it, the Firecracker was demoing some of the red tiles.

But that actually wasn’t the very first thing we did.

The very first thing I did was take down the cheapo shower curtain rod that Buckley and I bought some quarter-of-a-century ago when we first moved into it.

That’s me holding it in the main picture above.

See, he and I lived in the building since 1997 and in that apartment since at least 2000 before we bought it in 2004.

In any case, the ABFF’s people took over the demolition and made quick work of the bathroom.

That was the start of a three-week (insanely dusty) project that I’d been waiting to do for 25 years, and it went from “touching things up,” to doing a full gut-reno.

They just wrapped it up last week, but I’m beat so, I’ll tell you more about it in the next entry.

Location: the bathroom, admiring it
Mood: drained
Music: I’m on the outside, looking for a reason to change (Spotify)
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Another lost heart in the big city…

Wish to God I didn’t know now

Close to two decades ago, in the winter, told you once about finding a lost heart in the big city that a woman dropped when we smiled at each other.

I don’t think I ever told you that she was blond with a dark wool hat.

That’s all I remember.

It was a lifetime ago.

Back then, I’d tell people that everyone you meet out and about was single, sorta single and not single.

What a different life I’m living these days.

Was walking the kid to his BJJ class the other day when we found another lost heart.

And I was instantly back to 2006 in my old life.

At least, in my head.

In the past five decades or so, gotta say that one of the truest things I’ve ever heard was from a glam rock back in the 80s, of all things.

The song went:

I wish to God I didn’t know now
The things I didn’t know then

Fuck me if that’s not onea the truest goddamn things anyone’s ever written.

Location: my roof, wishing it would stop raining
Mood: sleepless
Music: my best friend died (Spotify)
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Mother’s Day 2025

A lotta distractions

The weekend wasn’t bad. Had a lotta distractions to keep the kid – and myself – busy.

The Firecracker’s dad’s in town so the Firecracker mainly spent time with him, which was good so I could focus on the kid.

The kid mainly did his own thing on Saturday but my college buddy, Ricky stopped by late at night to catch up after meeting up with our buddy, Ox, around the way.

Rick and I are probably the most athletic guys from our group of friends but that means that he’s got back issues too.

Me: I’m walking around most days at a 2-3; it jumps up to a 5-6 when it rains though.
Him: I’d kill for a 2-3. I’m walking around most days at a 7.
Me: Jesus Christ, how do you manage that?

Evidently, just like I did when I went to see Bryson and the Frenchman – case-in-point: Like me, he just lay down on my floor as we caught up.

Similar to that time where we randomly met him on his roof, the Firecracker and I agree that random meetups with good friends are the best.

Then, on Sunday, the kid and I woke up bright and early to head down the greenway on my scooter and get carbs in Chinatown.

There were a lotta carbs – scallion pancakes and fried dumplings – to be had before we headed back uptown.

Then we hightailed it back to catch the train to go see my mom and my sis.

The kid got to play with his cousins; I even hopped on the bike and rode with them to the local grade school for them to play for a bit.

While we were gone, my mom made dinner for us all; she didn’t know the Firecracker wasn’t going to be there, so she made the Firecracker’s fave dishes.

Me: Mom! It’s Mother’s Day. I wanted to take you out or at least bring food for you.
Her: (shrugging) It’s fine. I wanted to cook for you all.

That’s my mom.

Afterward, the kid and I went home and met up with the Firecracker, who was hanging with her family the whole weekend.

Another Mother’s Day Weekend/Alison’s Birthday, done.

Just have to get through the next few weeks and I won’t have to think about May again for a whole year.

Location: 6PM, picking the kid up late from school
Mood: damp
Music: open the door. Oh, it’s my love (Spotify)
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Alison would have been 46

I’m able to pay, for now

A little while ago, the Professor dropped me a line.

Him: If you’ve seen the HBO series Westworld there’s a line where a female robot is about to get her mind wiped again – to spare her from feeling the pain of her child s death – and she cries out “Please, no – the pain is all I have left.” I thought that line was quite powerful.
Me: (sighing) Yeah. Thinking of Alison and my dad is always painful but it’s better than not feeling anything at all, I think. Sometimes, I think differently, but for now, I agree.

There was also a NY Times Article that my brother sent me that had a subtitle that read, If grief is the price of love, I am unable to pay.

For now, I’m able to pay it.

But, early on, I thought paying it would kill me.

As I age, it’s a bit less painful.

Time just dulls everything.

Yet, when I do feel it, man do I feel it.

But I’d much rather feel it than forget her.

Because pain is the price we pay for love.

And pain is all I have left of her.

Well, that and the boy.

Him: I wish I knew her better.
Me: Me too, kiddo. You woulda loved her.
Him: And she woulda loved me?
Me: Oh, kiddo, she absolutely did. And she’d be so thrilled with the person you’re becoming.

Location: 2017, at least, in my head
Mood: complicated
Music: don’t look back from a hurt like that (Spotify)
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Glazed with rain

They were delicious

Speaking of poems, the Firecracker and I discussed our favourite ones, and we discovered something…

Her: My favorite poem is, This Is Just To Say.
Me: Mine is Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams.
Her: That’s who wrote This is Just To Say!
Me: What a coincidence!

You would be surprised at the regularity that she and I have exchanges like that – a “Wait, me too” kinda moment.

And I told you once that that’s the basis of all good relationships, romantic or otherwise – a shared sense of the world.

And we still share things in the world.

Me: What would you do there?
Her: At Arizona Tom’s? Two step with older guys so they’d buy me a drink.
Me: Kinda like what you’re doing now?
Her: Nothing’s changed.

Poetry aside, it’s not like the Firecracker and I see eye-to-eye on everything, English related…

Me: I think the next thing they’ll try to get rid of will be Alcohol, Tobacco, and Fire…
Her: Wait, did you just say “Ta-bock-oh?” Like “Chewbacca?”
Me: What?
Her: You just said, Alcohol, Ta-bock-oh, and Firearms. It’s Alcohol, Tuh-back-oh, and Firearms.
Me: Well, that’s just ridiculous.

 

This Is Just To Say
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens

 

Location: home, worried about the weekend
Mood: concerned
Music: I got sunshine even when it’s pouring rain (Spotify)
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Something about Mary (Elizabeth Sawyer)

Feeling it acutely

This little girl named Mary Elizabeth Sawyer was born in 1806 and she led a fairly unremarkable life except for two things:

    1. She had a little lamb, whose fleece was white – as white as snow, in fact. And this little lamb followed Mary everywhere.
    2. Her friend, John Roulstone, upon seeing this, was so amused, he wrote her a poem about it.
Image via Art and Picture Collection, The New York Public Library.

The poem went:

Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned it out;
But still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about
Till Mary did appear.

There’s some question as to the validity of all this, but I like to believe it.

See, almost everyone in America has heard about Mary, knew her situation, and remembered her little lamb that she loved so much, and that loved her so much.

But I’m struck that everyone forgot that Mary was a real person, with all her hopes and dreams, and people – and animals – that loved her deeply.

Even if the poem wasn’t actually Mary Elizabeth Sawyer, the hope is that Mary was a real person, and this was a real thing.

This coming week will be both Alison’s birthday and Mother’s Day.

Again and like always.

And the anniversary of her death is coming up as well.

Every May I struggle with the void that she left after she died.

As hard as that is, it’s even harder for the kid, who – year-after-year – feels the loss a touch more acutely than the previous year.

Moreover, I worry that she’ll just be a distant idea to him, like Mary.

Like, I picture her in my head like the picture above while I think that my son pictures her like the blurry main picture of this entry.

It’s her but it’s…blurry.

Then again, it’s always good to be remembered in some positive way.

Whether that be in a children’s rhyme or a blog that almost no one reads.

I’ll probably write more later, but I just wanted you to know that the Lo household was thinking about her this May, like we do every May.

And like I always do.

Him: Papa! Did you know that there’s a country called Burkina Faso? Isn’t that a cool name?
Me: It is! Did you know that mommy used to go there all the time?
Him: She did? Why?
Me: She worked for a place called Helen Keller and was always trying to help people. That’s one of the things that I always loved about her. She was always trying to help people – she was such a good person, kiddo. Maybe, when you grow up, you can help people like she did.
Him: I will!
Me: (nodding) She’d love that. She would have loved that. And you.

Location: home, worried about the weekend
Mood: concerned
Music: A few years had gone and come around (Spotify)
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I was born before…

…a lot of major historical events

With the warming weather, the Firecracker and I hit up TikiChick for drinks and their killer chix sammies recently but the place was packed, so we just ordered three chix to go.

We went to another of our fave dive bars, Jake’s Dilemma, and realized they only gave us two, so I had to head back to get the missing one.

The lady there was so apologetic that she gave us three freshly made ones that were hot, so we had five total.

I may or may not have eaten alla them.

Told the kid recently that I was born before Google. He was floored.

So, that got the Firecracker and me to talking.

Me: I was born before all websites.
Her: I was born before mp3s.
Me: I was born before the Metrocard.
Her: I was born before streaming shows
Me: I was born before flat screen TVs.
Her: I was born before mobile phones.
Me: I was born before the Russian Federation.
Her: I was born before The Backstreet Boys.
Me: I was born before the third brakelight was a thing, man that was stupidly controversial as a kid.
Her: I was born before wifi.
Me: I was born before the Euro.
Her: I was born before the Czech Republic.
Me: I was born before the UFC.
Her: I was born before the Berlin Wall fell.
Me: I was born before the Challenger explosion.
Her: Oh, I was not!

The above is the first commercial for a flat-screen TV.

I believe that it’s at least $20,000 if adjusted for today’s dollars.

It was released in 1998, when I was still working at Cnet and I remember (a) this commercial and (b) speaking to LG about their plans to make their own flat screen TVs.

Crazy, alla these things were years/decades ago, and yet, they feel like just a few years ago to me.

Me: I was born before Diet Coke.
Her: WHAT?! When did it come out?
Me: Early 80s? The only real option before that was Tab. (thinking) Wait, *THAT’S* where you draw the line at my age?!
Her: (shakes head) I cannot believe you’re so old…

Not my pic – this is the original can of diet coke that someone is trying to sell for $425.

Location: home, with an impromptu kid’s pizza party
Mood: achy
Music: I know we’ve changed but change can be so good (Spotify)
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Pilate washed his hands

All the sinners, saints

Easter just passed, not too long ago.

While I’m now a devout atheist, you’d probably be surprised to know I was once deeply religious.

Interestingly, it was my repeated reading of the bible that really started me onto the path of being an atheist.

It’s not so much alla the insanely fucked up things the bible does and says, so much as the inconsistencies and repeated illogical situations that make me no believe.

But that’s neither here nor there.

On the topic of Easter, the story goes that Pilate didn’t kill Jesus, despite being the highest legal authority in the area.

Rather, he merely stepped aside so others could do it and he could have clean hands, literally, as he washed his hands of the entire affair (Matthew 27:24).

The best interpretation of this event, IMHO, comes from my fave Rolling Stones song, Sympathy for the Devil – I’ve mentioned it here more than once.

There’s a line that goes:

I was ’round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Strictly speaking, it’s unclear whose fate was sealed by this action:

    • Yes, Pilate sealed Jesus’s fate by not doing anything; he effectively made it so that the mob was able to have Jesus killed for standing up to the wealthy class.
    • But Pilate also sealed his own fate as well, once he let an innocent man die for doing the right thing, he was forever damned. Because he knew he was letting an innocent man die and no amount of hand washing could clean his hands of the stain.

The wealthiest in America are on track to kill off:

    • Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion – these are somehow bad things and bad words now.
    • USAID
    • Medicaid
    • Social Security
    • Education
    • etc.

And, it seems, we’ve sealed their fates, the fates of hundreds of thousands of people – and our own – by doing nothing.

Every time I think I can’t be any more disappointed in the world, I’m proven wrong yet again.

Location: Home Depot, picking up bullnose tiles
Mood: disappointed
Music: after all it was you and me (Spotify)
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