Dentist: (70 minutes late) Sorry to keep you waiting. What’s going on? Me: I still have a lot of pain in that tooth you repaired last week. Her: Let me see. (peers closely, runs some tests) The problem is that the crack was so close to your nerve. Let me drill down the tooth a bit and see if that helps. (40 seconds later) Bite down and tell me how that feels. Me: (complies) No pain! Her: (laughs) OK, you’re all done then.
So, repairing my tooth took two visits, $120 of copay, almost six hours of total time, and 40 seconds to fix the initial repair.
That seems on brand for me.
Her: My hair smells like smoke now. Yuck! Me: Well, you are “The Firecracker.” Her: (laughs) Please use that in the blog.
If you’re not from NYC, then you may or may not know that there are these MASSIVE wildfires – 150 to be exact – burning in Canada, with their smoke hitting NYC and hard.
Yesterday, the boy’s school had a pizza party in the school yard when the boy started screaming something and pointing at the sky; right after he started, the rest of his friends joined in.
What were they pointing at, at 6PM? The sun, which looked like an orange fireball.
This picture really doesn’t do it justice.
Everything was normal until about then, when he started coughing and I did as well and a thick smog came down on top of us with the whole yard smelling like a campfire.
We quickly left and went home – this is what it looked like at 6:48 last night.
The next morning, this is what it looked like in the Upper West Side.
Made the kid wear two masks to school while I wore an N95 mask.
I’m heading away with the Firecracker and the kid this week so I figured I should hit up the gym while I could, so off I went.
When I got there, I was already breathing heavily. This is what it looked like when I arrived.
Chad had, smartly, kept the windows and doors shut and the ACs running so we were able to get in a good workout.
But after just three rolls, I was completely spent and left.
Union Square looked like the first or second circle of hell – this is it at 1:49PM.
Hightailed it home to grab the kid from school.
Normally, I try to spend at least an hour outside with him so he gets some fresh air and exercise but there was no fresh air to be had.
I – like almost all of the other parents – quickly grabbed the kid and headed home.
Kept him indoors until it was time for his afterschool, took the bus there (we usually walk), took the train back alone, then did the same thing again 90 minutes later when his class was done.
Both he and I felt pretty run-down the entire day. I had an itchy throat and eyes while he kept complaining his chest and stomach hurt.
Hopefully, by the time you read this, things are much better.
2023 - This is me on Saturday during our shoot, two days before I'm 50.
Just the particulars
Me: What if one day you get new glasses and realize how old I am? Firecracker: I don’t think so. Maybe I’m just more into antiques than I thought I was.
1973 – 0 Years old
4. You can reinvent yourself again and again
F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote Alison’s favorite book, The Great Gatsby; I loved that girl as much as I hated that book.
When I was in college, I spoke four languages and was certain that I’d end up working for the Foreign Service.
Then I changed my mind and wanted to be a writer – ended up writing for several national publications including one of the first major articles on Windows NT versus Novell for Computer Shopper, and some travel articles for the New York Sun.
While doing this, I worked in the club industry and made a name for myself, which a few people still recognize me for.
1983 – 10 Years Old (and starting to get fat, hoo-boy, did I get even bigger)
Then I decided I wanted to build networks and ended up building a 100-seat computer network for a Fortune 600 company on Madison Avenue.
Then I went to law school to become a lawyer. Then I went to CNET and became their first International Sale Manager. Then I went back to being a lawyer.
Then I bought my building with some friends and became a building manager.
Then I got another degree and became one of only 350 people in the New York State with that degree while still working on my legal career. Somehow found myself lecturing on the law all over including Europe and New York. Even won an award.
I also started teaching kali on the sly just a block from my pad and started up a private jet company.
After Alison got sick, I gave up everything and became a cancer researcher, a caretaker, and then a father.
Somehow, in my late 40s, I also became a YouTuber and a gym owner.
Look, my point is that Fitzgerald was fulla shit.
You can be anything you want to be. You get to decide and no one else does.
I decided at 14 that I didn’t wanna be fat so I stopped being fat. It was as simple and as difficult as that.
Few things in life are actually difficult; the most difficult thing you’ll ever do is to decide to do something.
Everything else after that decision are just the particulars.
1993 – 20 Years old – My brother edited out the people next to me in this pic – in fact, he did all these pics. He’s crazy talented, that boy.
This is dangerous – I speak from both personal experience and as a new father.
My greatest fear is that kid’ll meet some knuckleheads that get him into trouble.
Look, you choose your friends because they mirror some quality you have or desire. I don’t have any close friends that are, say, massive gamblers, because I’m not a massive gambler.
You don’t get to chose your family but you do get to choose your tribe. So, if the people that you hang out with are a buncha people that cheat on their partners alla time, you’re gonna become someone that chats on your partner.
If you’re the most successful person in your group, this is probably a bad thing, too. You need a better group.
This is one major reason why I didn’t want to continue some romantic relationships I was involved in; because, while they were usually fine, their friends weren’t the type of friends I wanted in my life.
Or my kid’s life.
Him: (a long time ago) I heard you two broke up, I’m sorry. Me: It’s fine. There’s no tragedy that doesn’t have some positive bonus and the bonus here is that I literally never have to pretend to enjoy hanging out with her lame friends again.
This is why I’ve cut so many people outta my life – because I want to be around people that point me in the direction I want to go.
Speaking of bonuses, here’s a bonus tip.
2003 – 30 years old
Bonus: Sometimes, Logan, you gotta say, “Fuck it, I’m out.”
If you are the average of the five people you hang out with the most, then I’m grateful that Bryson’s one of my oldest and dearest friends – for a whole host of reasons.
He’s dangerous; he boxed with Dolph Lundgren, is a brown belt in BJJ under Fabio Clemete, is a black belt in shorin ryu karate, and is also a skilled Japanese fencer.
But, he’s also a great father and cook, married to a beautiful doctor, and helped build a buncha businesses that you’ve probably visited.
Most importantly, though, he’s a great human being. He’s the kinda guy I wanna be, so I try to hang out with him whenever I can.
Years ago, I visited him and his then girlfriend (now wife) out in San Francisco and I was probably depressed when I met them.
I was struggling with whether or not to quit my job and also leave the girl I was seeing.
For the former, it was a great job but I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue being involved with it. The latter? Well, kinda the same thing.
I had all the mixed feelings of duty, loyalty, guilt, etc.
Him, his wife, their roomie, and I, somehow ended up on a boat in the middle of a lake where we got into a water gun fight with some group of people on another boat.
I got onto that boat confused and depressed and left it feeling..pretty good.
And it was because I started telling him alla these issues I had with the girl and that job and he listened, politely, and then simply said, Sometimes, Logan, you gotta say, “Fuck it.”
I added on the “I’m out” over the years.
The number of times I’ve said, Fuck it, I’m out, since that day has gotta be at least in the hundreds, if not thousands.
It’s an incredibly powerful statement and one that you can whip out at any time, in any situation.
Bad job? Bad relationship? Bad habits?
Fuck it, I’m out, is a perfect answer that leads directly to Tip 4, which is reinventing yourself.
But be careful, because it is so powerful. Use it with caution.
2013 – 40 years old
Once told you about this snippet of a Batman cartoon I watched when I was younger.
In it, a villain was trying to convince Bruce Wayne that Bruce was mad but Bruce/Batman fought back and won.
When his friend asked Bruce why he was so sure that he (Bruce) wasn’t crazy, he answered simply that the voices called him “Bruce.”
But that’s not what he called himself.
I’ve been many things I’ve been proud of. I think that, by the time you read this, Scenic Fights will either be at exactly 400,000 subscribers or close to it.
And I’ve got some big things happening in my life that I may or may not tell you about in the future.
But none of that matters, really. In my head, I’m the kid’s father. Full-stop.
If that ends up being the only thing that I’m known for, I’m ok with that.
Substitute teacher: And you are? Me: (pointing at the kid) His father. Her: (brightly) Oh! He’s a wonderful child! When I said that I was a substitute, he came up to me afterward and said that if I forgot anyone’s name, to ask him because he would tell me. He was my helper all day. Me: (laughing) That’s awesome. Her: He’s awesome! Me: You’re not wrong, lady. You’re not wrong. (sighing) He takes after his mom. Her: You two are lucky. Me: (nodding) Yeah. Lucky us.
I’ve been alive for exactly 18,250 days.
I’ve only got 8,250 days left, if I’m…lucky.
Hopefully, I’ll keep writing and you’ll keep reading, yeah?
2023 – This is me on Saturday during our shoot, two days before I’m 50.
The last few people I’ve dated, including the Firecracker, have been on the shorter side, which I find amusing.
Me: Man, you’re tiny. You’re like half a person. Her: No, I’m not! I’m a whole person – I have all the parts.
I have most of my parts, but I’ve been worried about how some of them have been functioning lately – mainly my eyes.
My eyesight has been getting progressively worse since I got kicked in the head the night I covered class.
Rang up the doc that I saw a few weeks back and he told me to stop by his office again this past weekend.
One thing that I really like about him is that he runs a tight ship. Within 30 minutes of my arriving he, was already wrapping up the visit.
Him: Everything looks good, your retina is solid, and you just have a touch of cataracts. Me: So why does everything look blurry? Him: Ah, well, you’re developing monovision. That’s when one eye sees distance and one eye sees up close. Your right eye is now essentially for reading while your left eye is for seeing things far away. Me: Whoa, that’s wild. Because I got kicked in the head? Him: (nodding) But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Most people have to have surgery to get that, but you now have it naturally. I have it naturally myself and it’s why I don’t need glasses.
All-in-all, it was a relief.
It’s still weird to walk around and have things so blurry alla time. But he says that I have to practice looking at things far away with my right eye and reading with my left eye.
How hard can that be?
One thing that I found interesting was that, when I first met the doctor, I barely knew the Firecracker.
Now, I’d spent the last two months seeing/chatting with her on the regular.
Funny how life works.
Location: a small room, watching her eat an apple pie in her bed
Mood: wondering if I should eat an apple pie in my bed
Music: I’ve lost more than a heart could take (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Me: Look, we just have to make this work for… Simultaneously: 40 years Her: Jinx! You owe me a coke. Me: What? That’s not a thing. Her: Yes, it is grandpa…
The Firecracker likes to poke fun at our age difference but I don’t really mind at all.
See, I wear it like a badge of honor.
Cause the ability to get old is a privilege. Not everyone gets that chance so I’m grateful to get to be an old man.
I think our lives go through a series of thematic changes.
Back when I was young and stupid in my early thirties, I thought that my debilitating insomnia and my breakup with the Reporter was the worst thing that coulda happened to me.
Looking back, I’m shocked how naïve I was.
During that time, my life was a dramady – some comedy mixed with some minor drama.
Speaking of Colin Hay, when I met Alison, I think that my life was still a dramady but definitely more drama than comedy, as we felt the weight of life as a young married couple.
We had our ups-and-downs but we were just trying to figure out how to have a life together. With a fatty of our own, somehow.
Always felt that, once we got the kid, our real lives would begin, that any minute now, our ship would come in.
But it never did.
It never occurred to me that I was living my real life until it was too late.
During Alison’s sickness, Lorde was huge because it was the only album I had on my phone and I was so busy trying to save her and our life that I didn’t have time to change it.
Still never listen to Lorde because it brings back such vivid memories.
Think I would throw up if I heard Pure Heroine again.
Jesus, I musta heard that album easily 200 times during the first four months.
I was so busy that I literally didn’t have a moment to download any new songs and it was waaaaay before Spotify.
Anywho, in the song, Buzzcut Season, there’s a line that goes, “It kissed your scalp and caressed your brain.”
Remember hearing that line and thinking that, even with Alison bald and stick thin, I still thought she was beautiful and I was so lucky to have met her.
Some days I’m built of metal, I can’t be broken But not when I’m with you You love me real, we have it all Can’t leave me now I love the way, you are today Run away with me now
Kept hoping it was all a bad dream, I’d wake up, and she I could run away somewhere with the boy and live the life we were supposed to live.
The years afterward were gutting for so many reasons that I’ll just keep my theme song during that time to myself, if you don’t mind.
But right now, at this moment, honestly don’t know if my life’s gonna be a dramady again, another tragedy, or something altogether new.
There’s a song by a fella named Mike Blume, who released his latest song under the name Whatever Mike for some reason, called In-Between.
The chorus goes:
I’m inbetween Right here where I want it Right here where I want it I′m inbetween
Dunno if the rest of the song is really super appropriate to my life right now but those few lines perfectly encapsulate how I look at my life right now.
I’m in-between alla these memories and hopes, life and death, happiness and sadness.
All of it. I’m in between all of it.
Somehow, it’s ok because it’s better to be in-between than toward the end. Nowadays, at least.
Nothing is as I wanted it to be, but I’m happy where I am right now.
Which makes me anxious because happiness is so rare for me. Then again, what is life, if not a tragedy fulla joy?
I think our theme songs changes with the years, so I suppose we’ll revisit this topic again from time-to-time.
What about you?
What’s your theme song?
Me: Why do you hurt me? Her: (laughing) If I don’t have old jokes, I have nothing here, Logan. Nothing!
Location: this afternoon, walking in the sun with Firecracker down Broadway
Mood: introspective
Music: I’m between, right here where I want it (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Her: I’m sorry about your wife. Me: So am I. All my gods look like her. Her: What does that mean? Me: Nuthin. (brightening) Let’s play a game…
It’s the first day of 2023.
I’m writing this on a computer that I first built when Alison was still alive and upgraded repeatedly, such that there’s nuthin left of the original computer, just like I talked about in my Ship of Theseus.
One thing that I did after the hack was to upgrade the operating system of that computer from Windows 10 to Windows 11, something I did with great reluctance.
Still working through the pros and cons of that, but I note that I went through Windows 7, 8, 8.1, and 10 on this machine before finally arriving here.
Just like the philosophical exercise of the Ship of Theseus, the question remains if there’s anything left of the original computer that I originally built all those years ago.
Speaking of philsophy, this blog has, more than anything, been my own personal repository of how I see the world, kinda like Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations.
Suppose my operating system has always been based on German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer, who was introduced to me in my 20s by the Devil.
One of my earliest blog entries spoke about a quote that served me well my entire life: With increased intelligence comes increased capacity for pain.
When Alison, my dad, and another relative got sick – all at the same time – and I essentially gave up my career(s) to try (and fail) to save them, then lost Gradgirl and Mouse, I think that the truth of that statement is why I’m here writing you now.
Schopenhauer’s worldview was that life is, at its core, suffering.
Life swings like a pendulum backward and forward between pain and boredom. – Arthur Schopenhauer
At no point in this blog – through all the highs and lows – did my baseline OS change; it was always run on some variant of Schopenhauer.
And you know my feeling about those who’s worldview never changes. I can’t be a hypocrite.
All this, despite the fact that some baseline beliefs of his contradicted directly with my own heart’s desire.
For example, I’ve always wanted family and family, by definition, requires children. Yet Schopenhauer, like my billionaire buddy, feels that “Bearing children into this world is like carrying wood into a burning house.”
Schopenhauer, as the base operating system of my life, was ill-equipped to deal with the overwhelming sadness and despair of it all, for various reasons.
For example, Schopenhauer’s world view of Wille zum Leben respected love like one respects a dangerous animal, but it doesn’t deal with love, which I both respect and submit to.
To Schopenhauer, love is an illogical means to an important end: The extension of our very species.
I understand that but, having loved and lost in the profound ways I have, I think it’s an idealized version of what humans are actually capable of.
While it’d be nice to live a life purely pragmatically, the way humans are designed, it’s not practical. Because emotions exist and aren’t going away.
I need an OS that reflects that reality.
The Devil’s gone from my life and, while I appreciate all that he’s shown me in the world, the OS he helped build for me doesn’t work with who I am now, especially given all that’s happened.
Moreover, I want more for my son. Assuming that Schopenhauer was correct, and our universe is only what we experience through our mental facilities – our operating system – then I plan on giving my son the best one I can.
After close to 30 years of working on myself, I think that answer lies in Stoicism. Not “stoicism” with a lower-case “s,” rather the full philosophy of Zeno, Marcus Aurelius, and Seneca.
The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts. – Marcus Aurelius
I don’t think, at all, that Schopenhauer was wrong, or that the last three decades of my life were wasted. Rather, I think that it’s served its purpose for what I needed for that time and that version of me. Now, I have a new purpose – the boy – and that requires a new way of thinking.
We suffer more often in imagination than in reality. – Seneca
It’s still early yet in all this. Just like it’s early in the new year.
But I spent the last month reexamining my life and need to discard the things that aren’t working for me anymore, if they ever did, and find things that do work.
Don’t think you’ll notice any drastic changes here, per se. Just little things for myself as I try to give myself and – by extension, the boy – the tools I’ll need to be the best version of myself.
Man conquers the world by conquering himself. – Zeno
I’m still me, but I wonder how much of who and what I am/was is still there or if I’m a completely new being altogether, just like this computer I type alla this out on.
On that note, let’s start the new year off with a song.
This is by a young woman named King Princess that my brother introduced to me a little while ago.
Can’t put my finger on it, but it always makes me dream that my life might be better than it is.
Maybe it’s the line that goes, “I will keep on waiting for your love,” which goes directly against Schopenhauer’s distant respect of the concept of love.
Because love’s not only something I respect, but also something I want – to both give and receive – so it’s worthy of patience and time.
Even if it never comes my way again.
Here’s to 2023 and changing for the better.
Her: (surprised) Why did you do that? Me: (shrugging) Seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Her: (laughing) OK. (pause) You can do it again.
Location: in the first hours of 2023, on W 97, wondering if we should sell our apartments and move to NJ
Mood: new(ish)
Music: I love it when you try to save me (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.
For those of you that have been reading this blog for a while, you may have noticed a recurring theme, which is, What does it mean to be human?
It seems like a silly question but we’re all essentially imperfect; physically, mentally, and emotionally, we’re all lacking in something that makes us fully realized human beings.
On that note, I had an interesting exchange with a young visitor at the gym the other day.
Him: I never knew that there was such a thing like knife and stick fighting, I just thought people picked these things up and used them. Me: All fighting is skill-based. Some require more skill than others. The argument against weapons fighting is that it’s unnatural, because we’re not always armed, and I think that’s precisely the opposite of reality. Him: What do you mean? Me: It’s empty-hand fighting that’s unnatural; the nature of being human is that we use tools.
Imagine you’re alone in your home and you hear a noise in your living room. Do you just saunter out to check things out or do you grab a bat, stick, or lamp first?
Or, google any uprising and lemme know how many unarmed people you see? Or any mob action, including the January 6th riot – how many people are completely unarmed?
The nature of human violence is that we want something – anything – in our hands, in times of stress. Because we all instinctively know that weapons are force multipliers.
Fighting someone without any type of weapon is unnatural, precisely the opposite of what most people think.
And that’s why I think everyone should have some weapons training.
Here’s the kicker: If you’re unarmed, you don’t get to decide if you’re in a weapons fight or not. Only the armed person gets to decide that.
On a somewhat related point, we had to cancel the children’s classes at our gym because the kid’s coach we were using got an offer we couldn’t match.
So, I signed up the boy to the local gym around me.
I’m probably a bit biased but…man, he’s so damn cute, I can’t stand it.
This is in addition to alla his other afterschool activities like swimming. He’s the lime green blur in the photo below.
Trying to get into the new rhythm of the school year. One unexpectedly sad thing I realized was that every year for the past three years is that I’m the only emergency contact for him.
I had someone as a second contact when he was pre-4K but that was a long time ago.
It’s annoying, these little heartaches that randomly crop up.
On a much happier note, while I was there at the gym signing the kid up for his new class, this young man – very excitedly – waved to me:
Him: I’m so sorry, but are you Logan Lo? Me: (laughing) Yes! Do you watch Scenic Fights? Him: YES! I’m a subscriber! This is so cool! Me: For me too!
More thoughts on Ukraine: Do you remember when I went to Boston and wrote about the Irish?
Did you know that there are seven times more Irish in America than there are in Ireland? Legit.
There’s a new world coming – again, provided these fuckers don’t blow it up first – and it’s going to be a diaspora of Ukrainians who aren’t going to forget who and what did this to themtook their home from them.
Like, the Irish aren’t forgetting about the famine anytime soon. And the Jews aren’t forgetting about the Holocaust anytime soon.
And, as I’ve said before, if cancer was a person, there is nothing on earth that would stop me from getting to him/her after what it did to my family. Nothing.
I’m beyond incensed over what’s happening in Ukraine and I’m 100% Chinese.
I can only imagine the hatred and dreams of revenge that young Ukrainian men and women are feeling right now.
I wrote a novel once that you can buy on Amazon if you’re so inclined. In it, I opened the book with a quote from artist Paul Gauguin:
Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.
Knowing as many Ukrainians as I do, I don’t see them forgetting who and what did this to them who took their home from them.
I don’t think the Russian government/Putin fully realize how many of these young men, women, and children now dream of revenge. That’s not a good thing for them.
Her: Did you read about…? Me: I did. Her: Wait, you didn’t even hear what I was going to say. Me: If it’s about the war, I did. I most definitely did and wish I didn’t.
I made the kid some duck confit again – the first time around, he kinda liked it. Well, he liked it with the rice at least.
This time around, a lot less so.
Him: Why can’t we just have McDonalds?
Now, here’s the kicker – I said the exact same thing to my dad ages ago.
See, when I was his age, my dad owned a Japanese restaurant and food that he couldn’t sell and would go bad, he’d bring home for us.
So, we had sushi constantly and lobster and crab pretty regularly. I remember him telling us that we would regret this when we got older and he was totally right.
Me: OK, if I gave you some barbeque sauce from McDonalds to dip the duck into would you… Him: Yes! I want that.
Ah, it’s moments like this I wish my dad were here so I could tell him about the boy. And that he was right. About so much. And that I miss him terribly.
Now, I want some sushi. Or more duck. Or even McDonalds.
I’m just hungry, yo. That, and I like to eat my feelings.
Speaking of eating my feelings, Daisy’s back. Kinda.
It’s a long story and hard to explain.
I’ll try and sort it all out for you at some point. Really, I’m trying to sort it all out for me, but I’ll tell you all about it if I do.
Location: at the gym, getting repeatedly strangled by Pez and Erin
Mood: so, so, so hungry
Music: Home Sweet Home (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
My son’s eczema seems to be getting progressively worse and it’s alarming.
I’ve, unfortunately, had a lotta experience in watching someone I care about suffer from it. Watching my son trying to deal with it is just awful.
It was originally just a small patch on his back but now it covers large amounts of his body and he’s always asking me to scratch him.
Him: Stop, stop! Me: Why? Him: I have to scratch. (does so) I’m sorry I keep stopping. Me: (shaking head) Don’t apologize for that. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable.
I’ve now spent a small fortune on ointments, creams, and bath additions as well reading up on any number of things that are supposed to ameliorate things, with limited effectiveness.
Oddly, oatmeal seems to help matters, at least according to what I’ve been reading and what I know.
So, in addition to giving this kid regular oatmeal baths, which he tends to enjoy save for his annoyance with taking baths in general, I’ve been baking him oatmeal cookies and feeding him bowls of oatmeal like there’s no tomorrow.
The hope is that, once summer arrives, he’ll do much better.
In the meantime, I’m spending waaaay too much time reading up on the matter and feeling for everyone that has to deal with this nonsense.
On an unrelated point, and very separate from the horrors that we’re watching unfold in Ukraine, I’ve been thinking a lot about the novel, The Mouse That Roared.
I last read it when I was in grade school, maybe, so I’m sure I’ll get some of the details wrong, but it’s essentially the satirical story of a tiny nation that decides to start a war with the US in the hopes of losing and having the US rebuild them, stronger and better.
The kicker, however, is that they win and have no idea what to do after they’ve won.
It’s a bit like the Joker’s speech in The Dark Knight where Joker tells Two-Face that he’s just a dog chasing cars.
I wouldn’t know what to do with one if I caught it.
Just like the British were unprepared for America winning the Revolutionary War, the Soviets were beaten by the Finns in WWII – fighting on skis of all things – the Koreans thrashed the Japanese Empire in 1592, and modern America was essentially beaten by Vietnam, I wonder if Ukraine has a chance to not just claw back its original territory from Russia but also regain Crimea and any other regions that Russia annexed.
If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that it’s difficult to adequately gauge the effects of (a) motivation, (b) home court advantage, and (c) luck on expected outcomes.
Let’s hope the Ukrainians continue to punch (way) above their weight.
And FWIW, I’m pretty sure the Ukrainians can figure out what to do if they do get back what’s rightfully theirs.
On a completely unrelated matter, we finally have a new Scenic Fights video up, this time regarding Atomic Blonde.
Give it a go?
I’m not sure what I’m doing in that still above…
Location: 7PM, the kitchen, making duck confit for a six-year old that wants McDonalds
Mood: irritated that I have to compete against McDonalds
Music: Remedy, running through the red lights (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
When my dad dropped me off at college, he gave me a hug and told me loved me before he left.
My suitemate – who was also Chinese – marveled at that.
Him: I don’t think my dad ever told me that he loved me. Me: Really? Him: Yeah. It’s not a really Chinese thing to do. Was he born here? Me: (laughing) No, not at all. Him: Oh. (quiet) That must be nice.
When I was a really young adult, I went to this rooftop party and chatted with this pretty girl. I suppose to impress her, I hopped onto the parapet while we were speaking.
Decades later, I still remember her eyes widening in horror. “Dude, we’re like 20 stories up! Get down from there!”
I remember laughing and hopping back down but then glancing over and realizing just how stupid that was. It was a straight drop down onto the Manhattan pavement.
The rest of the night was a disaster as I fully absorbed the what-if of that whole scenario.
The war in Ukraine eats at me for any number of reasons, least of which is the inequity of everything. These people were literally just living their lives when some douchebag decided to start murdering people, including pregnant women and unborn children.
And therein lies my own personal nexus with the matter.
Unlike Russia, which has been called the world’s gas station, Ukraine has a number of industries that the world relies upon. One major shadow industry they have is surrogacy:
It’s one of the only countries in the world where you can legally pay someone to have your own biological child.
For reasons we don’t need to get into now – although I’m sure you can guess – since 2021, I’ve been heavily researching surrogacy. To the point where I got one of my Russian speaking friends to speak to an agency about costs and procedures.
Fast forward to now. There are hundreds – if not thousands – of day/week/month-old infants whose biological parents are probably emotional wrecks knowing that their child – possibly their only chance to ever have a child ever – is being kept alive by nurses that are literally risking their lives just to keep them somewhat alive.
Man, Putin is really a special kinda motherfucker. Women really should rule the world.
It’s heartbreaking and maddening and yet another thing that pulls me away from the golden mean.
Just like the what-if of my parapet jump comes out of nowhere from time-to-time to haunt me, I’m haunted by the what-if I sent one of my only chances to have another biological child of mine and Alison’s to a warzone?
Would I try to get her, somehow? Or stay here to take care of the boy and not risk leaving him alone in the world?
Would she roam the world wondering who her parents were? Would she even be alive? Would people be nice to her? Would she be nice to people? Would she know she had a brother? Would she know I loved her?
Would she have Alison’s laugh?
Shit.
Him: Why are they doing that? Me: I don’t know. I suppose everybody wants to rule the world. Him: Do you? Me: (thinking) If only to keep you safe. (later) I love you, you know? Him: (laughing) I know.
Location: earlier tonight, just off West End Avenue and W. 79th Street, waiting
Mood: so conflicted
Music: It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
