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.
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.
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.
…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) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
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.
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.
I was in my local supermarket when I ran into one of the cashiers, Lucy, in the produce section.
Her: (walking up to me holding a cup of coffee and put it down) I understand now. About your wife. My…my husband died. Me: What?! Good god, I’m so sorry. Her: (nodding) He was sick for a while. I thought he would be ok but…he didn’t let me know how bad it was. Me: (putting down groceries and giving her a hug) I’m so sorry. We’re never ready, are we? Her: (shaking head) No. I didn’t think he would go.
I went home, got a red envelope, stuffed a few bucks into it and went back to give it to her.
Her: No, no, I’m fine, really. Me: (gently) I’m sure you’re fine. This is just for lunch. Make sure you eat, ok? Her: (taking it) OK. Thank you. Me: I wanna tell you that it’ll be ok. It won’t be. But you have to keep telling yourself that it will be. After a while, it’ll be kinda ok.
The rest is her story to tell but I was in my own head for a while after that.
Then, I was walking with the kid and he turned to me said the most profound thing:
Flowers may bloom again, but a person never has the chance to be young again.
Assume he learned it in Chinese class (花有重开日，人无再少年) because he certainly never learned it from me.
But then…
Him: Flowers come back. Why can’t mommy come back? Me: I dunno. I dunno. Him: I wish she would come back. Just once. Just for a day, even. (trailing off). She can’t come back, not even for one day? Just one day? Me: Man, if only, kid. If only…
My kid’s a lot more mature than other kids his age. Sometimes, I think of him like he’s a little man.
Dunno if this is a good thing or not. I’m thinking not.
Wish he was just a kid without alla this weight on him.
It’s too much weight for a little kid like him to carry.
Don’t want a little man. Not yet.
Just want him to be a little kid for a little bit longer.
Location: On West End Avenue, finding myself at a loss for words
Mood: contemplative
Music: been gone far too long (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
We woke up relatively late to meet the Firecracker’s BIL and sister at a North Carolina BBQ joint called Lexington Barbecue.
Her: You’ll like it if you prefer dry rub to sauces. Me: I like all types of BBQ. Her: This is authentic southern BBQ!
I actually ended getting the fish.
BIL: Lemme get this straight, you come to a Carolina BBQ place and you get…fish?! Me: I’m just gonna eat some of [the Firecracker’s] food – she never finishes.
Turns out she did.
BUT her niece didn’t want any of her food, so I ate that.
After we left, I took some pics outside when I heard a fella called out to me…
Him: Hey! Hey, man! You want some real pictures, come on into the smoker. Me: Hot damn, yeah!
He was the pitmaster and also just a prince of a fella.
So were the two gents working back there as well.
The pitmaster pulled a piece of pork right outta the smoker and handed it to me.
Me: What makes a proctologist decide to be a proctologist? I mean they have to look at assholes all day. Firecracker: (shrugging) I’m sure that you lawyers deal with just as many, if not more, assholes every day. Me: Fair.
I find the Firecracker pretty funny, mainly with her earnestness in life.
Because the funniest things come from a place of honesty.
There’s something refreshing about having someone that is relentlessly upbeat and positive, especially considering my recent past.
In terms of the big three buckets of health, wealth, and relationships, relationships seem to be the one that my friends talk with me about the most.
With that said, I’m not the only one whose life seems on the upswing.
Ran into a friend of mine the other day who was with someone new. Afterward, she and I chatted about it.
Me: I didn’t realize you and [your ex] broke up. Was there any particular thing? Her: (thinking) It was weird. I told him – straight-up – things like, “Could you let me know if you’re running late, “or “Could you drop me a line to make sure I got home OK?” Nothing. Ever. Me: That’s weird. Her: Yeah. Basically, that relationship was: “He knew what I wanted but he never did it.” Me: Jesus Christ, can I relate to that…
Of course, for every person whose life is getting better, there’s gotta be at least one person whose life is getting worse.
Or two – see, two friends of mine just announced that they were divorcing each other. I didn’t wanna pry but it seemed that things mainly come down to issues in communication.
Have you ever actually read the story of the Little Mermaid? The original story is…dark. Waaaaay, dark.
Essentially, the mermaid saved this prince’s life but couldn’t speak so the prince thought some other chick saved his life and married her, and she died.
The end.
Think the loneliest people in the world are the ones that aren’t actually mute but can’t communicate.
Then again, some things might be best left unsaid.
Me: Can you do me a favour? Her: Sure, what? Me: Can you walk on my back? I’ve had a rough day at the gym. Her: (laughs) Sure! Me: (10 minutes later, groaning) OMG, hurt me, call me names, make me write bad checks! Her: Umm… you…Mad Hatter! Me: (laughing hysterically) MAD HATTER?! Her: That’s all I could come up with! Now write me some bad checks!
I feel like I’m finally past my lemon days, maybe? That’s the hope, anywho.
So, here’s to some lemonade…
Location: day-drinking with her in an empty bar on 80th and Amsterdam
Mood: completely exhausted
Music: Everything’s just fine, I’ma be just fine (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
When I was a kid, there was a Woolworth’s in Flushing Queens that I used to go to alla time.
It was one of the bigger ones out there, so it had the full diner inside, complete with the classic counter stools. Think I ate there a few times, when I had a couple of bucks.
It wasn’t bad but it definitely wasn’t no Capital Grille, lemme tell ya…
In the basement was a petstore, with some of the most ratty and messed up animals you’d ever see.
I remembered that there was once a one-eyed parakeet for sale, and I remember thinking, who on earth would want that?
Turns out, no one did, which is why they’re not around anymore.
Woolworths is still around, if you know where to look. In fact, you might have been in one recently.
See, the company is still around, they just changed their name to: Foot Locker.
It’s funny.
Woolworth started in 1879, bought Kinny Shoes in 1963, and created Foot Locker outta that in 1974, and then – because it was its only division doing gangbusters – just decided to change their name from Woolworth to Foot Locker.
That’s kinda how I feel.
I assume you know me because of this blog I’ve had for close to 20 years, so maybe you think of me first as a writer.
And my former clients and coworkers know me as a pretty good lawyer.
But 423,000 people know me as the guy that teaches people how to fight with weapons on Scenic Fights.
But, I like to think that the core of who we are is consistent.
Boss: …anyway, that’s what I thinking. So, how’s your son? Me: (big smile) He’s…great. So great. We’re a family of two. It’s not what I planned but he makes it all worthwhile.
Location: being pulled out of a bar on Amsterdam by the Firecracker because someone was asking to see what I could do
Mood: complex
Music: Had me at hello, 你好 (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Him: I came across some of your blog entries. It was unexpected. Me: (nodding) I get that a lot. But we are what we constantly do and I always wrote. You surprised me as well. And I’m not often surprised. Hence, my being here. It seems that we all have our secret lives…and skills.
The Frenchman and his wife are also highly successful in their professional lives, like my friends around the way or the NFL Player.
Him: [My wife] runs the entire division. Me: God, I wanna marry rich. Send me your rich, hot friends. Him: (laughs) I might have someone for you. Me: You should know, [I’m very shallow.] Him: (laughs again)
There’s something about fighting that makes people struggle and scuffle in all areas of their lives. He’s not the first highly successful, highly dangerous person I’ve met in my life.
He reminded me of an old friend of mine. Quiet, highly educated, well-spoken, and well-dressed, but completely inured to violence.
Completely.
Him: (pointing over to someone at the bar) I know, what it will feel like if that man and I fought. I know how it would end, without knowing anything about him. Me: If I had to fight you – or any grappler – I’d have to slit your wrists as soon as I could. I can’t allow you to grab me. Him: (smiles) [You thought this through]. Me: I’ve survived this long by thinking things through.
In any ways, this craziness was a nice respite from the other craziness in my life.
He caught a cab home past midnight. We’d chatted for over four hours. It’s strange talking to my peers again.
Spent so much time talking to people so much younger than me for so long that it was like I was wearing old clothes that – surprisingly – still fit.
Him: I know you have close friends and a support network but if you ever feel down, don’t hesitate to ping me. Me: I appreciate that, and the company and conversation tonight. These are the questions people of our age ask: Why are we here? And are we leaving the world better off than when we arrived? I don’t know the answer to either but am hopeful, for some reason.
I’m stupid like that.
And I don’t have many close friends on purpose. People are…difficult.
Walked home to my empty apartment, which was sparkling clean because the housekeeper was there earlier.
She found my wedding ring. I’d lost it ages ago but Alison never cared. She knew I was her fella; we were happy with just the other as company.
Friday nights were always our favourite.
It’s funny, the wedding ring never mattered to either of us, just the marriage itself.
Was actually holding it in my hand, thinking about my possible pasts again, when The Frenchman reached out to me earlier that night.
In any case, after I got back, I sat down and poured myself a drink and wished I asked him for his friend’s name that died from the brain cancer to give him a toast.
Instead, I just cheered Alison and my dad and downed it and half the bottle by myself in my empty apartment – the boy was away.
This is after four drinks with The Frenchman.
Woke up the next morning on my couch, still in my clothes. The ring was on the table.
Someone once asked if I was jealous of her bestie that recently had a baby with his wife.
She said it to break my heart but the joke was on her because you can’t break what’s already broken.
It was the strangest question because I thought the answer was obvious.
Of course I am, I said. I’m jealous all the fucking time.
Didn’t vote for the first time in…dunno how long. Although, not for lack of trying. We went to two and almost three places but I wasn’t to be found.
I’m disappearing, it seems. Maybe that’s for the best.
I miss when I was a grey man and no one knew me and what I could do.
As for the boy, he’ll have secrets of his own, someday.
Had lots of plans this past weekend but everything fell through because of everything I told you. And some stuff I haven’t.
Every time I think I’m outta the woods, I find out I’m not.
Was planning on just working on cleaning up my digital life the entire weekend when I got a message from a fella that goes to my gym.
Him: Let’s try to grab a drink soon! Me: I’m dealing with some craziness now that’s a bit hard to explain. (thinking) Oh wait, what are you doing tonight? You’re in Manhattan, yes? Him: Yup! Let meet after I have dinner – closer to 8 works?
Told you once that no one knew that I did weapons work – for close to two decades no less – because I did it for me. It only came out because Alison died and I stopped caring and did Scenic Fights.
While I’m proud of what we do, and the fellas are great, a part of me regrets that decision. For many reasons.
In any case, this fella, we’ll call him The Frenchman, has been coming to Paxibellum’s kali class for about a year. He and his wife slip in, do their thing, and slip out.
Through Facebook, I found out that he knew Bryson and I was shocked that he’s a black belt from his school.
For those of you not in the life, that’s a really big deal. And it’s from a world-renowned academy, no less.
So, I was looking forward to finding out more about him at at my local dive bar, where he had wine and I stuck to hard seltzers and beers.
Me: You’re like me, a grey man. You have skills that you don’t talk about, I like that. Him: (laughing) Yes. I do these things for myself, there’s no reason for anyone else to know. Me: (nodding) Same. You’re a grappler that wants to learn weapons. I’m a weapons person that wants to learn grappling. Him: What else do you do? Me: (laughing) You first.
We ended up chatting for about three hours there but then it started getting loud so we went to a much nicer joint where we stayed past midnight.
That place was much louder.
He was curious about Scenic Fights, the gym, what I do…and Alison.
Me: Sorry, I didn’t expect there to be a band playing tonight. Him: It’s fine. Tell me about your wife. Me: Where to begin? Him: We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. Me: (shrugging) I always like talking about her. I just tend to cry when I do.
It turns out that one of his best friends also died of brain cancer. How sad and wild.
He lived a lot longer than Alison, though.
I was oddly jealous about that, which, admittedly, is a super fucked-up thing to think.
Then again, I’m pretty fucked up.
But it’s late, so I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow.
