Considering that today was Halloween, have you ever had a “banana-flavoured,” candy and thought, “This tastes kinda like a banana but not really?”
There’s a reason for that.
Not a banana plant but I thought it looked nice. From this entry.
Years ago, I had some friends over and we were playing Scattergories and the category was: Birds that begin with the letter “G.”
Him: What the hell’s a “Great Auk?” Me: It’s a large, flightless, extinct bird. Him: You can’t just put “Great” in front of a bird and say it starts with, “G!” Me: OK Google, what’s a Great Auk? Machine: According to Wikipedia, “The great auk is a species of flightless alcid that became extinct in the mid-19th century. It was the only modern species in the genus Pinguinus.” Him: OK, stop, stop. Just take it.
Remember that line: “…the onlymodern species in the genus Pinguinus.”
I’d meant to write an entry about that, but it slipped my mind.
Now, the Great Auk was a true penguin – it looked like this:
By Mike Pennington, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13812423
I know what you’re thinking, “They kinda look like penguins.”
But that’s the opposite of the truth – the things we call penguins kinda look like them, the real penguins.
Those birds, the real penguins, completely died/were killed off some time in 1844.
A decade previously, around 1831, people started calling flightless birds in the Southern Hemisphere – far from the Northern Atlantic where the Great Auk was found – “penguins” because they kinda looked like the Great Auk.
But they weren’t actually penguins at all – again, the Great Auk was the “onlymodern species in the genus Pinguinus.”
Always found that so interesting: The birds we all call “penguins,” aren’t actually “penguins” at all but a completely different animal that we all assume are penguins now.
By Zwifree – I personally took this picture in my kitchen after buying approximately 30 Gros Michel Bananas.Previously published: I put it on my Facebook, CC BY 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=70354204
Somewhat related, my parents (and probably yours as well) grew up with a banana that was the Gos Michel banana but those went commercially extinct by about the 1960s.
In their place was the Cavendish banana, which I, and probably you, grew up on.
The Cavendish tasted a lot different from the bananas they grew up on, the Big Mike.
And that’s why a lotta banana-flavoured things don’t taste exactly like a banana to us – because those flavours were developed to imitate the original Gros Michel and not the Cavendish.
On a completely unrelated point, the election is happening soon.
Growing up, I spent most of my young adult life voting Republican because I was always fiscally conservative whilst being socially liberal.
What I’m seeing these days is a complete takeover of what I grew up with.
The compassionate conservative, which I prided myself being, has been taken over completely by a woman-hating, “Christian,” anti-choice, subtlety racist, and otherwise hateful group that seems to be wholly different from what was once called the Republican party.
Just like the Greak Auk, and the Big Mike, I think that the current GOP has taken over so completely that no one remembers that the Republican party used to be substantially different and something wholly unrelated is now known as the Republican Party.
Location: a former Masonic temple
Mood: irritated but fulla carbs so, not terrible
Music: Hey, Marianna, you gotta no banana? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Her: Do you think you’re perfect, Logan?! Me: Nah – I know I have a ton of flaws. Her: I’m so glad you can admit when you’re wrong. Me: Wait, no. I said I was flawed, very flawed, which I am. But I’m also usually right. Her: (sighs, rolls eyes)
The Firecracker and I have had a pretty annoying string of luck lately.
About two or three months ago, I started doing something called Toes-To-Bar, which is pretty much exactly what it sounds like – you hang by your hands and bring your toes up to touch the bar.
It looks like this:
Except, I was doing it completely straight-legged.
Got up to as much as 15 of them before I ended up herniating a disc and it was either because of jits or, more likely, this exercise that led me to that injury.
Anywho, I let myself rest up over my cruise and came back feeling much better.
So much better that I did some toes-to-bar – just three.
Welp, that was a grave mistake.
Ended up not even being able to get outta bed the next morning.
Went to see the doc just in case it was something like cancer, though, because – with my luck – it’s not an impossibility.
Took 20 mins to get to the doc, who saw me and said, “You’re 51? And you spar and go to the gym five days a week with a herniated disc? Doesn’t sound like cancer, sounds like you have sciatica.”
The total exam took less than seven minutes.
In any case, never knew what that was and looked it up; sounded exactly like what I had.
Yay.
The Firecracker hasn’t been faring much better.
Her main mode of transportation around Manhattan is her trusty scooter – which died the other day.
So, she borrowed mine and promptly wiped out on it and had a whole bevy of minor and a-bit-more-than-minor-but-still-not-major, injuries.
To add insult to injury – pun intended – another pigeon promptly pooped on her injured arm.
Her: Cm’on!
I shouldn’t have laughed but I did.
And then a week later, a pigeon pooped on my head.
Me: This isn’t our best month.
Still, all things considered, it’s not all bad.
We’ll both probably be on our feet again – literally and figuratively – in the next few months.
The aftermath of the bird and her arm/wrist.
To be clear: Feet, not toes.
Me: What do you think about my doing toes-to-bar like this [with bent knees]? Her: I think that’s a terrible idea, Logan. Me: Thank you for your contribution.
Location: at home, doing my really boring PT and missing jits and kali
Mood: seven outta 10 pain so…grumpy
Music: where you go, that’s where I wanna be (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Speaking of the law, I don’t often talk about the law (or martial arts) in this blog because it’s always supposed to be a personal blog, about my personal life.
But I’m always surprised how much my professional life/lives bleed into my personal one.
Case in point, the kid was punished for something he said he didn’t do.
So, I took time outta my day, gathered evidence, witnesses, etc, and appeared before the person accusing the kid of wrongdoing.
The issue happened at his school, not the gym, but I liked this shot of him doing his thing.
Was able to prove that he didn’t do what they accused him of, and he got an apology from an adult.
Him: But, Mr. Lo, I want to talk about your behaviour. Me: (laughing) Wait, my behaviour? Him: Yes. We had people there that said you were belligerent and abusive to my staff. Me: Oh my! Well, good thing I have a recording of the entire episode – which I brought with me today. Here you go (hand him my phone). Him: (takes my phone and then watches it) You recorded it?! Me: (nodding) As you can see, I neither raised my voice a single time, nor did I attack your staff personally in any way with ad hominem attacks. I just told them they made a bad call, which we both agree is the truth. Him: (after watching half) OK, I’ve seen enough. I’m glad you recorded it. Me: Me too. I’ll send a copy to your email for your records.
And I did.
It always pays to be prepared, IMHO.
Unfortunately, you can’t prepare for everything.
OK, so one thing I read about my garbage disposal was to not put in very fibrous things – like woody stems and the like.
The other day, I had this HUUUUGE grapefruit and, without thinking, stuffed all the rinds and the interior skins down the disposal.
Ten minutes later, water came pouring outta my dishwasher.
Four days, one $80 brass elbow, one tube of plumber’s putty, two snakes, two bottles of drano, two general contractors, a professional plumber, and $1,100 later, I have a working sink again.
That was the most expensive goddamn grapefruit I’ve ever had in my life.
I will say, though, that one good thing came out of this whole adventure, which is that the above is the pipe that leads into my wall.
You can see that it was so old – at least 40 years old – that the threads completely rusted off.
The plumber said it was wholly unrelated to the reason why he was there but that it was gonna snap off in the next year, what with alla the vibrations from the garbage disposal.
So, it was good he was there to catch it.
Oh, I bought a dashboard cam to record things as well.
Like I said, it pays to be prepared.
The people that shot the above video would agree with me, I think.
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.
Me: I dunno, man. Him: Well, what would you do here? Me: (sighing) That’s the thing, I guess. She’s controlling you right now. If nuthin else, I wouldn’t allow that. I can’t allow myself to be controlled by another person unless I wanted to be controlled. And I don’t think you wanna be controlled, do you?
There’s this small coffee shop a few blocks south of me that I used to go to when I did my dry cleaning as my dry cleaner was just next door.
The coffeeshop was a tiny joint but my dry cleaners lost their lease (boo!) but that meant that the cafe could take over that space and expand (yay!).
Lately, I’ve been meeting people there for coffee and meetings since it’s so much nicer now.
Now, the reason I’ve been going there – besides occasional visits with neighbors and my buddy the Pastor – is because, for some reason, people keep asking me for advice.
Like, I tell people to try to drink as much green tea as possible because of all of its document health benefits.
Other things, though, I’m less certain of, ergo, I’m hesitant to offer any advice.
Like, there are no less than three people I know of that are going through divorces.
As a lawyer, I know little to nuthin about the topic, but I started doing some research to try and help them here and there.
I think it’s more dangerous to give advice when you have no idea what you’re talking about than to say, “Sorry, man, I don’t know anything about the topic, I wish I could help.”
But they’re in a pickle so I try to help however I can.
My old buddy Johnny – who got a divorce himself decades ago and took none of my advice – used to drive me crazy by always offering advice on topics he had zero background in.
He was probably my third wealthiest friend, so I think that wild success makes people think that they’re qualified to give advice in all fields rather than the one that they actually are qualified in.
That’s one of a million reasons I decided to stop being friends with him.
Getting back to my friends, some of them insist that I give them some opinion, so I do when pressed.
But I wonder if I’m truly helping or harming sometimes.
Then again, free advice is probably worth what you’re paying for it.
Him: Fuck no. Me: (shrugging) Well, then there’s your answer then.
Me: (after dropping something) Sorry, I can’t get it up. Her: (bursts out laughing) Do you… Me: (sighing and holding up hand) I heard it when I said it.
My collection of injuries seems to be growing every single day.
About a year ago, I started getting these weird wrist pains. They’d come and then go, no real rhyme or reason.
For the past month, my wrist has been bugging me non-stop; I don’t go to the gym anymore without a wrist brace on.
This is just an old pic of mine after some party.
Then, about a week ago, I started getting these shooting pains in my lower back.
Him: Are you ok? What happened?! Me: That’s the thing – nothing happened. No major event. It just started hurting one day.
A buddy of mine is a doctor, and I mentioned it to him. He asked me a few questions, which I answered.
Him: Sounds like you have a herniated disk. Me: What?! You’re kidding. What do I do? Him: (shrugging) Wait and try not to injure it more. It takes about two years to resolve itself.
The Firecracker started digging around and found something called The McKenzie Method for back pain.
Essentially, it’s about seven exercises that you do every 2-3 hours; it takes about 15 minutes to do from start to finish.
Man, I hate it.
But I hate feeling like an old man more so…this is what I’m doing for the foreseeable future.
Blargh.
Her: (to a friend) I’m glad that Biden dropped out. I can’t vote for him again. He’s older than Logan. Me: That was uncalled for.
Location: my floor, doing these $@#$@#$ exercises
Mood: grumpy
Music: I just keep pretending I’m okay (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
I was just born in this picture. My kid wore what I was wearing here as well. Maybe someday, I’ll show it to you.
Mom: Your dad’s been gone seven years. Can you believe it? Me: Not really. It feels like it was just a couple of years ago. Her: (repeating) Seven years. Not easy, is it? Me: No. He woulda loved seeing [the kid]. Her: Yes. That’s your dad. Me: (nodding)
Location: at a school performance, waiting for the kid to arrive
Mood: impressed
Music: Where are all the gods? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Firecracker: Is that a black bagel? Me: Yeah, it’s pumpernickel. Her: Oh, I’ve never had it before. Me: You’ve never had it before?! Her: You know, you do that all the time: I tell you that I’ve not had or done X and you immediately say, “You’ve never had X?!” No, Logan, I haven’t. THAT’S WHY I SAID IT! Me: Noted. (under breath) You didn’t have to yell…
My buddy Annabel swung by my pad the other day and dropped off some gifts for the kid.
I’m always touched when someone goes out of their way to help us out or do something nice for us.
The main problem with having such easy access to a good camera these days – after all, even the cheapest cell phone still takes pretty good shots – is that you end up with hundreds if not thousands of pictures that you really should go and clean up.
I keep having to upgrade my harddrives because I have so many pictures.
So, the other day, I started deleting pictures that either aren’t good or that I just don’t care for.
Been coming across some cool ones though.
Like the woman above obviously shooting a model shot.
Or this one below of people jumping onto the tracks to save someone.
Think he just fell in, and those two fellas jumped in to rescue him.
Again, thank goodness for the good souls, right?
Finally, the below conversation between the Firecracker and her sister made me laugh…
Location: late evening, picking up my son late from school. There’s a lot to do at the end of the year.
Mood: sleepy
Music: Christ, I’m out of my mind (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Him: But it fits! Me: Kinda. You’re definitely Brittney Spearsing it here.
Clothes that I just bought for the kid last year are already not fitting him.
I remember that, as a kid, I loved this yellow shirt with a red V on it. Wore it until my bellybutton was constantly out, all Britney Spears like.
Think my parents were just happy that I didn’t ask for new clothes, but I always think that Alison woulda wanted him to be put together so I try my best.
My best being a sliding scale.
(c) Getty Images
Him: Why don’t you ever show my face? Me: Because I don’t have that right. At least, I shouldn’t have that right.
Been enjoying my new gym – it’s interesting rolling with people from a completely new gym because no one knows my game and I know no one else’s game, so each roll feels very different than at my old gym.
Recently rolled with a very talented but smaller female. While I could have easily beat her, that wasn’t why I was there; I was there to get better.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
In a way, that’s why I don’t put up pictures of my kid where you can clearly see his face.
See, I grew up in a time where you could grow up in relative anonymity.
Never realized what a gift that was until YouTube because – MAN – did I do some jaw-droppingly bone-headed things when I was younger.
Legit, thank god everyone didn’t walk around with a video camera because I would most likely be hated by the world writ large.
In that sense, I feel that it’s not fair or right that I – as someone much bigger and much older than my kid – have the right to take away my son’s chance to be anonymous.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
He’s a little kid right now but little kids grow up to be adults.
When he is one, he might resent not being able to tell his own story his own way.
If you think about it, the thing that probably pisses you off the most is when someone else tells your story.
Janet? She’s such a slut. Did you hear last Friday, she…
Tom? He’s a loser. When we were kids…
That guy? Lemme tell you about him…
But I have to balance that with the fact that I’m proud of him – so proud of him – and what he can do so I wanna show him off.
And that’s really what it is with parents, isn’t it?
They want to show their kids off, not for their kids sake, but for their own. And that’s not right, I don’t think.
Just because they can, doesn’t mean they should.
So, my concession is that I blur or hide his face and name so that when/if he does want to have a public face/name, that’s his choice to make when he’s old enough to make that choice.
For now, I realize that, just because I could put up anything I want about him, I shouldn’t.
Me: One day, you’ll be old enough to decide who you are and how you want the world to see you. You and your friends are gonna be some of the first kids on the planet that’s lost that right to be a nobody. Him: (thinking) What if I wanna be someone? Me: That’s your choice to make. I’ve lived my life. I don’t have the right to live your life as well. You get to decide who and what you want to be. (pause) For what it’s worth, you’re always someone to me. You’re my most important someone.
Location: a pier with four lovely ladies – including the Firecracker – the boy, and a bottle of white
Mood: so. full.
Music: I just wanna be someone. Well, doesn’t everyone? (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
