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Old, crusty, curmudgeons

People that are like each other…

My life is series of simple things I tell myself regularly; reminders if you will, on how to live the kind of life that makes me happy and keeps me productive.

Like, I’ve said in this blog, a buncha times – one way or another – that The truth is a powerful thing.

And, We are what we constantly do.

They’re small statements that, in my life at least, have a great deal of consequence in my life.

There’s an NLP saying that I like that goes: When people are like each other, they tend to like each other.

And that really explains the easy relationships that I’ve had as well as the really hard ones.

Certainly, the plain language of it’s true – we like people that are like us and people that are like us, tend to like us.

The opposite is also true: We tend not to like people that aren’t like us and people that aren’t like us, tend to like us.

This isn’t a hard and fast rule – hence the use of the word, tend – but, by-and-large, I find it accurate.

Sara: This is why you two are friends.
Me: Why?
Her: You’re both just old, crusty, curmudgeons that like to cook.
Me: That’s accurate.

“You two,” being me and Steel as I saw him and the Surgeon for dinner the other day.

Steel spent two days making a homemade ragu that was absolutely killer – I had four servings and all I have to show for it is this blurry picture, sorry.

He also went to Astoria and picked up fresh bucatini and made a simple oil sauce to go with it.

Me: No lemons?
Him: Trying a traditional recipe. (later) You know what else it doesn’t have? Garlic.
Me: Wait, wha?! You didn’t put garlic into an Italian oil sauce?
Him: I know! But it’s a traditional recipe that I wanted to try.

It was shockingly good as well.

The Surgeon went out and got some fresh mozzarella and basil so we could also have a caprese as well, paired with some really crusty, fresh-baked bread.

Their older brother was there as well as my trusts-and-estates lawyer, and a good friend of theirs that’s a diplomat in Nigeria.

Me: Where’s your wife?
Him: She’s back in Nigeria at the compound there.
Me: That’s a sentence that I’ve actually said before when Alison was in Nigeria.

It was a fun night, as always, because the kids all had a grand time together and because, well, they’re like me and I’m like them – we’re all just parents trying to do right by our kids however we can and cooking up a storm because we’re all gluttons at heart.

Sara: (to Steel) That focaccia that you made the other day was the best thing I ever ate, I think.
Me: I’m standing right here.
Her: Well, Logan cooks too.
Steel: Does he, really, though?
Me: I’M STANDING RIGHT HERE!

My people…

Location: the gym, wondering if I just jacked my wrist
Mood: crotchety
Music: Me? I’m a part of your circle of friends (Spotify)
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It might be her

Conversations with Sara

When I first met Sara, she was the Firecracker and I was trying to impress her.

Me:… And I have no debt.
Her: Ooooh, stop it with your dirty talk.

Like all relationships, after a certain amount of time, our conversations have become a lot more pedestrian.

Her: (panting from a hard run) So. Gross.
Me: Someone deserves a glass of iced tea.
Her: God, I hope it’s me.
Me: (laughing) Might just be, might just be…

I think that’s the reason why people always like new relationships.

Because it’s always so interesting to find out about another person.

But, when you’re with someone that’s as old as I am, I think that (a) there’s always something new to learn about me, and (b) I’m always interested in the little things that make someone uniquely them.

Me: (laughing at her hair curlers) I was not aware of this prior to our getting married.
Her: (still not looking at me) Hey, Logan.
Me: Yeah?
Her: Aren’t you the guy with multiple containers of other – used – containers.
Me: Well, I wouldn’t say multiple.
Her: Oh yeah? There’s the box in your closet, the bags in the front closets, the containers on the wall… So yeah, multiple. Leave my curlers alone.
Me: I’m Asian! We all have bags of bags!

The thing is that we’ve led such different lives that I find her endlessly fascinating.

The hope, of course, is that she continues to find me and my life interesting enough to stick around and we can continue to grow together.

Her: (to the Frenchman’s wife) Logan has a box of bags and a bag of bags, you know.
Frenchman’s wife: Wait, you don’t? We have a bag of bags…
Me: (interrupting) Ah-HA! Vindicated! Asians united!

Well, that’s the hope, anywho…

Location: my room, writing this and video chatting with the Scenic Fights fellas
Mood: grateful
Music: damn, those eyes, they get me every time (Spotify)
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A walk uptown

Three miles on the westside

Me: What do you want to do on your actual birthday?
Her: Honestly? I just want to take a nice walk around NYC like we did when we were in Pasadena.
Me: Really? That’s easy. I can make that happen.

Me: OK, I have an itinerary. Wanna see it?
Her: Sure! Whacha got?

We start at 14 St / 7 Ave
8 min walk to Chelsea Market
15–20 minutes at Chelsea Market
5 min walk to High Line at 16th Street
Walk 1 minutes to 23rd St and go to 10th Avenue and Hudson River Park
Waterfront walk for 12–15 minutes
Exit the park around W 50th St and east to 9th Avenue, stores along the way
Walking north on 9th Avenue to 852 9th Avenue and dinner
Walk to stores at Columbus Circle, train to 96th and home

Her: That sounds great!

Me: Crap.
Her: What?
Me: Did you see the weather?
Her: (checks her phone) Oh no!! It’s gonna rain. Wait, I know, let’s go to Hudson Yards. We can walk to the restaurant from there.

Me: Oh, but that stinks, I wanted you to get the city, parks, and waterfront.
Her: It’s ok. At least we’ll still get to do some window shopping and have dinner.
Me: Sweeeeeeeeet. Let’s go.

Me: You know, the last time I was here was with you. It’s so much busier now.
Her: Well, that’s a good thing, right? Oh, Kate Spade! Can I check out some stuff?
Me: It’s your birthday, for sure.
Her: Thanks!
Me: I’ll just get comfortable in the husband chairs. (later) Hey baby, we should get going.

Me: (walking past the Dyer Avenue / W 36th Street interchange) You know, when I was a young guy working in midtown, I’d never – in a million years – imagine there’d be all these expensive restaurants around here. Literally, this is where you would go to get shived.
Her: I can imagine.

Her: Logan, you gotta slow down.
Me: You know, walking speed is directly related to biological age. The faster a person walks, the younger – biologically – someone is.
Her: Yes, you’ve said that but… OH CRAP!!!
Me: What?
Her: OMG…eeeewwwwww…
Me: DID ANOTHER BIRD POOP ON YOU?!
Her: I hate pigeons, Logan. I hate them so much.

Me: Wait, aren’t we close to the restaurant?
Her: Lemme check. (looks up address) Shoot, Kashkaval Garden is on West 56th, not West 50th.
Me: OK, six more blocks…
Her: (after arriving) Finally!
Me: I’m starving.
Her: Me too.
Me: (after the food had arrived) OK, first of all, man, does it feel decadent to eat all this bread. Secondly, alla this is so good.
Her: The tapenade and the whipped beets are my favourites.
Me: Nuthin beats beets.

Me: Excuse me, waiter?
Him: Yes?
Me: We also ordered some meat skewers. Could you check to see how they’re doing? We’re about done with these.
Him: Of course!
Her: Good, I was getting full.
Me: Yeah, me too – I’m not used to eating all this bread.

Me: You up to walk to West 72nd instead of Columbus Circle to take the train home?
Her: Sure. We can walk off some of that food.
Me: (walking past my law school) Man, I can’t believe law school was 30 years ago. That’s…crazy.
Her: (after walking past Lincoln Center) It’s amazing we get to walk past things like this all the time.
Me: It’s amazing what we get used to.

Her: Hey, do you mind if we pop into the Apple Store?
Me: (shrugging) Sure.
Her: (after a few minutes) I was almost gonna get the new iPhone 17 but they’re closing in five minutes. I don’t wanna make someone stay late.
Me: Well, they do make a commission.
Her: I heard someone say that they’re not doing any more sales. I’ll come back. Besides, it’s late and I want to go home.
Me: Yeah, I’m exhausted – we walked three miles!

Me: (at home) Was it a good birthday?
Her: You were there, so yes.
Me: Sorry we didn’t get to do what I had planned.
Her: It’s fine. We’ll have lots of birthdays to do together.

Location: all up and down the west side
Mood: sore
Music: Look myself in the eye, feel the crack of a smile (Spotify)
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Logan on Dad Bod

On being a dad in the city

Doing something a little different today.

Last month, I told you that I ran into a fella named Shawn that does a podcast called The Dad Bod, which isn’t actually about, well, dad bods per se but, rather, is about being a dad here in NYC.

In any case, we recorded an episode the other day and it just went up this past weekend so I thought you might like a little listen.

In it, I talk about raising the kid in the city, a lot more details about what happened that awful night in December of 2015 when Alison went to the ICU that I never told you about, the first several months after she and my dad died, and about this new life I’m trying to build with Sara and the kid.

It’s a little over an hour but I think that Shawn did a really great job here, maybe give it a go?

Location: home, recovering from the weekend, I’ll tell you about it in the next entry
Mood: enervated
Music: think that I could make it there someday (Spotify)
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Labor Day 2025

Loganisms

Her: When I was a kid, we played a card game called, Big Booty. But I don’t remember how it’s played.
Me: I assume it involved your butt?
Her: Actually, not at all..
Me: That’s both a disappointment and a misnomer.

Saw my college friends this past weekend out in the wilds of Long Island again.

It was really nice that we bookended this summer by kicking it off with them…

…and then closing it out with them.

Like always, it was a ton of fun, and a good way to give both boys one final good weekend before school began.

In fact, the kid stayed in the pool for the vast majority of the time we were there.

The ridic delicious food didn’t hurt.

And I even gave in and had some donuts – along with my requisite peanut butter.

Katsmw: You know, [my husband] is eating peanut butter more and saying Loganisms these days.
Firecracker: Does he constantly talk about eating “protein, fat, and fiber” at every meal?
Me: Oh, you’ll thank me when he’s old and looks amazing.

On that note, I was talking to Rain about the kid growing up so quickly.

Me: It’s weird being on the other side of childhood. I remember that, as a kid, school and the years would just draaagggg. College was four years, but it seemed like forever.
Him: Yeah, that makes sense. When we were in college, it was 1/5 of our lives. Now it’s just four years.

College lifetimes seem to sprint by these days.

Actually, everything sprints by these days.

He’s starting up fifth grade now, which seems so wild to me.

Cause I remember fifth grade fairly well and I felt I was a lot older than my kid is now, which I know is purely in my head.

Then again, I spend way too much time in my head, I think.

Location: home, listening to the dulcet sounds of just one jackhammer right outside my door, so…yay?
Mood: less jackhammered
Music: Suffer in the morning, but that taste is all I wanted (Spotify)
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Drinks at the Hotel Chelsea

Old friends come to visit

Him: Hey Logan! I’m in town for work again. I’m with distillery and distributor partners but if you wanted to join us for a drink, let me know.
Me: Where and when!?

The Firecracker and I have a strange little artifact from when we were younger.

She met one of her oldest friends online via a chatroom while I have a solid amount of friends that I still keep from my Livejournal days – I’ve literally got too many to mention.

That’s the kinda stuff I don’t think is really all that common anymore.

Anywho, one such friend is my buddy Paul N, not to be confused with my old drinking buddy Paul.

The last time I saw him was back in 2018, when I visited my brother and met up with him as well.

When we first “met” online, he was a marketing guy and a wannabe writer whereas I was a lawyer and a wannabe writer.

But since then, he launched the award-winning – seriously award-winning, check out all the awards below – Japanese spirit Nankai Shochu.

So, he’s now the owner of a liquor company with staff and inventory, jetting around the world, hustling to get his premium hooch all over the place.

I’m still just a lawyer and wannabe writer but that’s neither here nor there.

He was in town so the Firecracker and I went down to the Hotel Chelsea – a joint I’ve walked past a million times but never went in – and met up with him and some of his work colleagues.

There was a huge line and waiting list to get into the private sitting area but one of his friends, the lady in orange below, is a bit of celebrity bartender and she managed to float us all in.

Me: Killer! See, this is what you pay for – not having people on top of you.
Firecracker: And quiet, I swear, every bar in the city is a sports bar.

There’s nothing quite like ordering drinks with people that spend their lives thinking about and working with drinks.

I told Paul’s bartender friend to just order me rum drinks she enjoyed, and she did. They were all delish.

Now, his particular brand of shochu is very similar to rum, something I’ve pointed out to him numerous times.

This time, however, he told me that he was launching a rhum agricole, something I’ve never particularly liked.

Him: Just try it. It’s very different from other types of that rum. Our distiller is a mad scientist. (pours me some, surreptitiously)
Me: (trying it) Whoa, that’s the best one I’ve ever had.

That wasn’t a lie.

Normally, you can’t drink rhum agricole neat but this one I could definitely see myself sipping in the future.

Me: On that note, have I ever told you my rum story?
Him: You may have, tell it again and I’ll tell you if I heard it before.
Me: OK, so the story of rum is really the story of us…

It was definitely a fun night…

Him: You know what Korean (Americans) do when they’re drunk?
Me: No…?
Him: They argue about who’s more Korean. So, one night, Jo and Man…

…and, afterward, they went off to another bar.

But the Firecracker and I are on full-time parenting duties as the school year winds down.

So, we made our goodbyes and our way home.

Her: You always have such nice friends.
Me: I know. It’s a wonder why they chose to hang out with a fella like me. (later) It’s always nice when old friends come by for a visit.

Location: in front of my computer, all damn day
Mood: groggy
Music: I don’t want to be the villain all the time (Spotify)
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Another Love Cover

Japanese BBQ in the UWS

The kid had his second recital the other day and played Tom Odell’s Another Love.

This is him playing in his first, if you never saw it.

I’d never heard of the song before and there’s on expletive in the original, but he really wanted to play it and his music teacher felt it was a good choice.

So, I let him do it.

Think it turned out pretty well, actually.

Afterward, we ended up having dinner at the same joint that the Firecracker and I went to a year-and-a-half ago.

And, we ended up going with the same family we went with the last time, except that they also brought a family friend along – who just happened to be Japanese.

Me: (to my friend) You could have mentioned that she was Japanese! That’s like me bringing a Scottish person to McDonalds and calling it Scottish food.
Her: (laughing) It’s fine! Actually, this food is pretty good Japanese food.
Me: You’re being nice, but I’ll take it.

The woman actually spoke perfect English; I woulda thought she was from NYC if she didn’t say that she was originally from Tokyo and lived there still.

We got onto the topic of alla useless facts rattling around in my head.

Her: Like what?
Me: Well, I see you’re wearing a Columbia jacket. That company was founded by this German family that fled the Nazis and left behind their successful clothing company. When they got here, the found someone selling a clothing company, immediately bought it, and renamed it after the Columbia River.
Her: (laughing) How do you know all that?
Me: I have no idea.

This is true.

The vast majority of facts I know are (a) useless and (b) of completely unknown origins.

Somehow, these interesting stories stick around in my brain.

And now, maybe it’ll stick in yours?

Location: Early morning, upstairs, trying to replace a shower door
Mood: groggy
Music: Words, they always win, but I know I’ll lose (Spotify)
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Tawk!

When it comes out

Me: He’s so dumb. Talking to him is like having a conversation with a goldfish that can tawk.
Her: OMG your Queens just came out!
Me: Dammit!

My Queens accent has come out twice with the Firecracker and she’s astute enough to catch it when it does.

To paraphrase Amy Ryan – who came from Flushing, Queens, same as me – from The Office: You can take the boy outta Queens…

One of the things that the Firecracker and I have been doing is digging through the dozens of board games up in here that I’ve literally never played.

They were either rando gifts or items that old tenants left in my building, and I was loathe to throw out.

Her: Wait, you own this and have never played it? How long have you had it?
Me: (thinking) Jesus Christ, like 25 years?

Case-in-point, The Firecracker pulled out a board game of Yahtzee the other day that I probably had since the 90s and yet never played.

Not once.

So, she and I did just that.

We both managed to roll some pretty insane things, such that our first round was pretty impressive.

It was all downhill from there.

Exciting times here in Casa Lo.

Me: I think we should never play this again, we’re never gonna top these rolls.
Her: (nodding) This is very true. No one is gonna believe us that you just rolled a full house.
Me: (shaking head) Nope.

It’s not Miami, or the Bahamas, or a nice cruise but it’s something.

Post engagement is non-stop excitement.

But it’s also exactly what I wanted.

Location: heading out for the sixth time to try and paint my wall.
Mood: desperately needing a nap
Music: I know, I know, I know, this is all I want (Spotify)
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Thanks, Kymberly!

I’ve decided to be happy

Me: I just wanted to say thank you for working with me for this past year.
Therapist: Logan! You think we’ve only been talking for a year? You mentioned looking forward to your date with the Firecracker, and that was at least 20 months ago.
Me: I cannot be trusted with things related to time these days.

I had my first therapy session with my therapist, Kymberly, on 2021.06.03.

She was the third regular therapist I had but the one that I’ve seen the longest and most consistently.

That’s for a buncha reasons: On the practical side, my insurance covered alla it and I could do alla my sessions at home on Zoom.

On the personal side, I knew I needed to talk to a professional, but I suppose that I didn’t realize just how much I needed to talk to one.

The first few sessions were not great as I was pretty belligerent, but she stuck with me and I her.

As time passed, I began to notice that I was less angry – still angry, just less so.

Me: There’s this joke I heard once where a man says to the other, “What would you say if I gave you a million dollars but only on the condition that the person you hate most gets two million?” And the second man replies, “Of course, why wouldn’t I want three million dollars?”
Her: You hate yourself?
Me: More than anyone, sometimes. (thinking) It’s a good joke, though.

Chad once said he felt that I was clinging on to a wrong relationship with a death grip because I’d lost so much already and was loathe to lose anything else.

Think that was the most accurate and sage thing he ever said.

With the passage of time, and Kymberly’s help, I was able to accept my new reality, though.

Me: Losing Alison and my dad was a bit like losing a leg. I know I’ll never be complete again, and I’ll always remember the days when I had them both here as my happiest. I know I can be happy again, I just also know that it won’t be the same because I will never be the same.
Her: But this version of Logan can be happy, can’t he? Maybe not the same as before, different, but still good?
Me: I suppose that’s the hope.

Unfortunately, she’s moving to a different office and one that doesn’t take my insurance. So, we have to part ways, at least for now.

She was a good therapist – and I’m well enough now, a good deal thanks to her, that I’m not in a rush to replace her.

Thanks, doc.

I’m feeling much better now.

Her: I like that analogy of your losing a leg. But, I think you can be happy again. If you’re nicer to yourself.
Me: I’ll try. It’s not easy, but I’m gonna try. I’ll never be happy like I was when Alison and my dad were still alive. But…it’d be nice to be happy again.

Every so often, I’ll hear a song, and it’ll feel as if it was written just for me.

To wit, here’s a song called Decide to be Happy by a band called Misterwives.

There are several lines that I feel I’ve said here myself in some manner or another:

Been feelin’ like a stranger in my body.  I haven’t been myself in a while, I’m sorry.

Got to decide to be happy ‘Cause it don’t always come naturally.

I particularly really like this line:

I’ve been down on my knees, prayin’ things I don’t believe

…because I’ve been on my knees so much since you’ve known me.

You know what?

Here’s the whole song and alla the lyrics – it’s worth a listen, I think.

Music, it saved me
But it drives me crazy
‘Cause it forces my eyes, to take a look and see
Got to decide to be happy
‘Cause it don’t always come naturally
Been feelin’ like a stranger in my body
I haven’t been myself in a while, I’m sorry (I’m sorry)
Got to decide to be happy (happy)
‘Cause it don’t always come naturally

‘Cause flowers, don’t grow without the rain
And goodness, don’t grow without the pain
Flowers, don’t grow without the rain
Goodness, don’t grow without the pain

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

My mind, it can be a scary place at times
So I hide under my bed and close all the blinds
And I cry (and I cry)
And I cry (and I cry)
Waste the day away, so I turn on the lights
And I search for a sign or a rhyme or a reason
Why I’m unsteady as the seasons

‘Cause flowers, don’t grow without the rain
And goodness, don’t grow without the pain
Flowers, don’t grow without the rain
Goodness, don’t grow without the pain

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands
If you’re sad and you know it, well now’s your chance to dance
If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands
If you’re sad and you know it, well now’s your chance to dance
Well now’s your chance to dance, now’s your chance to dance
(Now’s your chance to dance, now’s your chance to dance)

I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy
I’ve been down on my knees
Prayin’ things I don’t believe
Hopin’ that it’ll save me
So I decide to be happy

Location: not where you might expect; a tiny room with the kid practically on top of me
Mood: soooooooooo sick – you would not believe how sick I am
Music: I decide to be happy (Spotify)
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Husbands are six-times more likely to leave

Shannon deserved better

Me: Her dying has fucked me up.
Her: I can tell. (later) This is a perfect example of you not understanding people. This doesn’t surprise me.

Didn’t know Jenny Wilder, Maggie Malene, Kris Witherspoon, Brenda Walsh, Rene Mosier, or Prue Halliwell.

But I did see Heather Duke in Heathers on a date in high school. Don’t remember the date much but I liked Heathers enough to watch it again on video.

That pretty much encapsulates all I know about Shannon Doherty.

Well, that and the fact that she died of cancer.

(c) Creative Commons

Was still surprised when she died, though.

Somehow, I thought, with her wealth and connections, she’d pull through. She was just two years older than me.

But I read this news article that took my breath away, which was titled, Shannen Doherty’s divorce from Kurt Iswarienko was finalized one day before her death.

That led me down an awful rabbit hole, where I ended up reading this article: Men Leave: Separation And Divorce Far More Common When The Wife Is The Patient

That pretty much says it all; evidently, if a wife gets cancer a husband is six times more likely to leave than the other way around.

Put another way, if a husband gets sick, the wife is six times more likely to stay and help while the husband is six times more likely to peace out if the wife gets sick.

What. The. Fuck.

That made me so mad that I couldn’t sleep. The inequity of it all.

Because I remember – so clearly – how much physical and emotional pain Alison was in with her cancer and her treatments.

I remember her daily struggles and I remember all these medical people acting as if I was some angel because I stayed with her.

Always thought it was fucked up how many times it was mentioned – to the point that I got irritated and would simply change the subject.

Learned later that when women get brain cancer, their husbands usually leave:

One study from 2009 found the strongest predictor for separation or divorce for patients with brain cancer was whether or not the sick person was a woman. That same study showed that men were seven times more likely to leave their partner than the other way around if one of them got brain cancer.

I stayed for one reason alone, which was that she was my wife. We were a team. Sickness and in health and all that shit. That was the deal. And I knew, in my heart-of-hearts, that she would have done the exact same for me.

She would never have left me.

And it never once occurred to me to leave her. How could I? She needed me. Plus, she was my wife, and I loved her.

Full stop.

I’ve seen this firsthand.

Have a scumbag relative that cheated on his wife and divorced her while she had cancer.

I have zero to do with him and plan on having zero to do with him ever again.

And Newt Gingrich divorced his first wife Jackie when she had uterine cancer and his third wife Callista after she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.

All this to say nuthin of Trump and his multiple marriages, rapes, and affairs.

Party of family values, folks.

What a fucking joke.

Think the reason this whole thing bothered me so much is that I knew how much Alison suffered with her cancer and the thought that someone out there in Alison’s situation has to deal with her same horror AND also have to deal with the pain of being tossed like a piece of garbage by the person she pledged her life to makes my blood boil.

Yet another reason why I think the less I have to do with people, the better.

I didn’t know Shannon at all but, man, no one deserves having to deal with the hassle and heartbreak of a divorce while facing death.

Oh, and regarding her ex-husband, fuck that guy.

Location: Zepplin Hall with a relative and the Firecracker
Mood: angry and sooooooo drunk
Music: Some’ll win, some will lose. Some are born to sing the blues (Spotify)
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