Ruining my own weekend plans

Wanting things to be different

I’ve not spent the 4th of July with anyone in years.

Alison spent most 4th of Julys with her extended family. Mouse did the same but not even extended family, just immediate family.

And for this 4th and the past one, the boy’s been away.

This year, I wanted it to be different. To this end, I made alla these plans with a pair of pretty brown eyes except, a few days beforehand, she asked me a question I couldn’t answer.

Her: I wonder if you can make room for someone in your life right now?
Me: What do you mean?
Her: You seem set in your ways.
Me: I think that, for the right person, I could find room.
Her: Yeah. For the right person.

And it made me realize a lotta things – not just about her and me – but about some questions that has been rattling around my head for a while now.

I finally understood what someone was trying to tell me for years. But, I suppose, that’s another entry entirely.

In any case, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. In the morning, I woke up and promptly ruined all of my weekend plans and hurt my own heart.

Still, it was – honestly – the most adult breakup I’ve ever had in my entire life.

Me: … I wanted to be upfront with you about everything.
Her: And I appreciate you being honest with me about all that. All that being the case, I think it’s probably best to just take a bit of a step back from this.

And that was that.

I was gonna just spend the weekend at home drinking but life had other plans for me.

To start with, that night, a female friend invited me to see a concert and then we sat on my stoop afterward to have some wine, something I hadn’t done in decades.

Somehow, we got onto the topic of our respective dating lives and god.

Her: The real spiritual path is a higher calling to true redemption.
Me: OK. I’m vomiting in my mouth right now.
Her: Oh man, you have so many issues.
Me: Refusing to have sex or hating God?
Her: Both.

The next day, I was supposed to go with the Counselor to see Isabel the Singer but things fell through there as well for a whole host of reasons.

Mouse was at the gym and I was tempted to ask her if she wanted to come but that always ends in a gun fight so I decided against it and just went by myself.

It ended up being pretty cool.

Isabel: Thanks so much for coming!
Me: It was great, thanks for having me.

On the way home, way later than normal, got a call from the Acrobat but I’ll keep that part to myself.

The next day – and totally outta the blue – a girl named NC that I’ve not really chatted with in close to a decade hit me up to chat.

After a spell, I invited her to come by Paxibellum because we actually met at my old gym years ago.

Me: Come by my gym and roll!
Her: I can come by on Friday!

She did and we had a pretty fun time. She said she’d try to come by again.

She’s trying to figure out things in her own life as well.

Man, aren’t we all?

Was actually supposed to get dinner with some friends in Chinatown with some other friends I’d not seen since before COVID but that fell through as well.

In truth, that was fine by me. My week was already a lot more social than I wanted after everything went down.

Figured that I’d spend the rest of the weekend alone at home, but life had other plans for me, which I suppose I’ll tell you about later.

Me: Why don’t you set me up with one of your coworkers?
Her: You do fine on your own. Besides, why would do that when you’re already in love with someone else?
Me: (sighing) Alison’s not coming back.
Her: (rolling eyes) I wasn’t talking about Alison, Logan.

Location: earlier tonight, the Campbell, thinking of my possible pasts – and possible future
Mood: conflicted
Music: tell me that you miss me – baby, get your ass home (Spotify)
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You would have been proud of me, I think

Some celebratory dinners

We were all pretty hungry after the meet. Some people wanted to eat out in Long Island but I told them that Flushing was a better bet.

I piled into Panda’s whip along with Randi, while everyone else got into their respective rides, and we all headed to Flushing to 1392, a seafood joint.

It was pretty hard getting around with my bum knee but I somehow made it work.

Panda, Randi, and I got there first and we ordered up a ton of seafood.

Everyone else came afterward and we inhaled all the food we ordered.

But the thing is that Panda wanted dumplings so we ended up going to a second place to get that, which was the mall that I usually hit up.

Afterward, Randi wanted a drink so we went to a really cool rooftop bar on the other side of the block. I’d never been.

There were some pretty interesting looking drinks.

Since I was still in diet mode, I got the “low-calorie” cucumber drink option that was good, but not great. You can see it below with the wedge of cucumber.

Ended up getting a second drink later on which I can’t remember but was even better.

The waitressed noticed me hobbling around so I asked her for a bag of ice and she was super sweet and gave me this for my knee.

Me: You’re my second favourite person here!
Her: Who’s the first?
Me: Oh, me. I think I’m just lovely.
Her: (laughs)

This is pretty much how I spent the entire time at the bar.

Afterward, we all split up and Panda drove Randi and me to the Barclays Center so we could grab the 2/3 to head home.

Me: Can someone gimme a lift to a 2/3 train station?
Him: You can take the 7-train right here.
Me: I know that and, normally, I would. But there’s no way I could make it up and down alla those steps for transfers and stuff.

Randi and I were on the train after a bit and we just chatted about the day before I finally hit my stop and made it home.

My housekeeper let herself in earlier in the day so, when I opened the door, it smelled like it used to smell when I was out late working and Alison was home and cleaned.

Me: (to no one) I’m home! I won one match.

I shuffled my way to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of rum.

I think I did pretty ok, I said, to my empty apartment. You woulda been proud of me, I think.

No one answered so I downed my glass and slowly poured myself another.

Location: meeting up with a huge Seinfeld fan out in Astoria for a drink
Mood: happy (enough) but missing the boy terribly
Music: Every time you look my way I can’t even handle myself (Spotify)
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SOGI Pt 1: Making weight with beer, lamb chops, and skirt steak

But I want to!

As I mentioned in my last entry, I did my second competition this past weekend.

Pez told me a while ago that she was gonna compete for the first time herself and I told her that, if she did, I’d go to support her – of course, she encouraged me to compete myself.

I considered it; in my last competition, I was woefully unprepared for leg attacks because my old gym just never focused on them.

Plus, I also got almost no sleep the night before, so that led to me losing the only match I had that day.

Still, in the past two years, I spent a lot more time learning about leg attacks – both attacking and defending. I figured I would make a decision last minute but only if it made sense.

Welp, the stars aligned in a way that made it hard for me not to compete:

      • I’ve been dieting for some Scenic Fights things coming up and have been walking around at 148 pounds. The cutoff for my best level was 145 so I figured I could quickly make weight, which is usually the hardest and most taxing thing for these types of competitions.
      • I’d been training pretty consistently four days a week so I feel good about my conditioning.
          • In a way, my getting injured – and being out of training for a few weeks – made me really amp up my training schedule because I felt I needed to catch up.
      • My son was originally supposed to go to his grandparents the day of the competition but he actually wanted to see them earlier so I relented, opening up that Sunday for me to compete.
      • Here’s the best thing: This competition was two hours away from me by train in Long Island BUT it just happened to be eight minutes from my college buddy’s house where we joined them for a pool party over Memorial Day Weekend.
          • Even better, my college buddies Gar just happened to be having another all-day pool party the day before the competition and said I could crash there, saving me from having to wake up at 5AM the morning of.
      • This particular competition allowed video weigh-ins the day before. This meant that I could weigh myself the afternoon before, send them video evidence, and then stuff my fat face with abandon with my college friends.

This is all precisely what happened. Well, almost.

See, on Friday, I trained with most of the other competitors and then planned to skip coming in on Saturday and, instead, head to Gar and Wynn’s to have BBQ and daydrink until night, crash, and then wake up bright and early the next day for the actual comp.

But my buddy Miller roundly – and publicly – criticized this idea.

Him: Dude, if you’re gonna do that, you’re gonna lose. Just don’t go to the party or don’t go to the competition.
Me: But I want to!
Him: Then just don’t drink.

Ultimately, I compromised and went into the gym on Saturday.

Partly causea Miller and partly because I woke up at 147.6 pounds and I needed to work off 2.6 pounds.

I only enrolled in the competition about six hours before the window to enroll closed so I wasn’t sure I’d even make weight and be able to go and compete although I woulda gone to support Pez, Mouse, and everyone else that was competing.

So, I went in on Saturday and worked out. After 1.5 hours, I was still 146 pounds. So, I stayed another hour or so and everyone told me to go pee.

Me: Why is everyone telling me to go pee?
Her: Because it works!

And it did. Finally…

With just 25 minutes to spare to get to the train, I dashed off to Penn Station, just barely caught the train to my buddies and got picked up by Cappy and Gar.

They waited for me to start grilling up the lamb chops and skirt steak. Because I already made weight I ate everything there – including various donuts from Doughnut Plant.

Managed to hang out with my friends – and both alcohol and carbo-load – for a while before I called it night and crashed.

Unlike last time, this time, I got a solid 8+ hours of sleep.

When I woke up, both my friend Panda and Pez were ready to grab me and bring me to the comp.

I’ll tell you the rest tomorrow. Or soon.

Her: I don’t want to make you sit around and wait for me.
Me: It’s fine. I’m injured anyway and you sound like you’re a having a really bad day.
Her: Yeah. I could use a hug, to be honest.
Me: I think I can help you there.

Location: the Upper East Side in a studio apartment
Mood: happy (enough) but missing the boy terribly
Music: I get by on happy enough (Spotify)
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Crowbarring myself out

Two weeks alone

Remember back when I told you that Pac left the gas on at my pad and the fire company tried to break down my door to get into my apartment?

Well, the other day, I got locked inside my pad for a couple of hours because the cracked lock fell out and a piece of it got wedged between the door and the jam.

I literally had to crowbar my way outta my own home.

Afterward, I called up a locksmith/welder to come fix it. They missed three appointments before they finally showed up.

The guy was here for a while because the lock and the door itself were all twisted from the firemen trying to get in back in 2018 and me trying to get out in 2022.

You can kinda see how twisted everything is in these pictures but he finally got it all done with.

It’s good that we got the lock fixed because I had places to go and people to see.

The kid just started his summer vacation, so I brought him out to NJ this past weekend.

He’ll be gone for two weeks.

On the one hand, I need a break – it’s tough being a single parent to a super active little kid. On the other hand, it’s only been a few days and I miss him terribly already.

Picked him up early from school and we grabbed the earliest train we could out to NJ.

Just as we pulled into the destination station and were getting ready to get off, a young man asked me, “Hi, are you Logan Lo from Scenic Fights?”

That took me aback because (a) it was funny that people are starting to recognize me and (b) we literally had to disembark the train at that moment.

But I confirmed it was me and took a selfie with him to post on Instagram.

After I dropped the boy off, I went straight back into the city to hit up the gym.

I actually scheduled a buncha things for me to do while he’s away, which we’ll get into in another entry.

But one of the biggest things that I was gonna do was a BJJ competition that several people from Paxibellum were going to on Sunday and I basically had a set of triggers for myself that would tell me if I was going to compete or not.

I didn’t sleep a wink the night before my last one plus it was years ago so I wanted to see if I could improve my standing this time around.

Ended up competing yesterday but I’ll give you more background on alla that tomorrow.


Location: My bed, icing my jacked-up knee
Mood: weird
Music: I’m selfish I always made your problems ’bout me (Spotify)
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The hard nos and the quiet moments

It’s only the quiet moments that matter

Her: And you?
Me: Twice, I think.
Her: What happened?
Me: The first girl wanted to stay, but couldn’t. I wanted her to stay, too. But wishes are just that.
Her: Oh. (later) And the second?
Me: She wanted to go, so she left.
Her: Did you want her to stay?
Me: (shrugging) She didn’t, so it doesn’t matter. People are who they truly are in their quiet moments. It’s only the quiet moments that actually matter. Because we’re made in our sleep and by our lonely.

The older I get, the less willing I am to deal with other people’s nonsense.

But, I’m finding out that this is pretty much the same across the board.

As I mentioned in my last entry, my friends usually hit me up to either discuss dating in general – men and women – or ask me to help them out with their profiles and/or messages.

One friend I find particularly hilarious. He literally has a spreadsheet of hard nos that he goes through with each and every one of the people that he finds remotely interesting.

Here are just a sampling of his Hard Nos

      1. Any of these pictures in the profile:
        • Most pics are them doing outdoorsy stuff and/or traveling
        • Pics of them golfing or scuba diving
        • Large tattoos
        • Pics of them with dog(s)
        • Pics with ONLY dog(s) and no humans.
        • Expensive looking lifestyle like in a private jet
        • Not smiling in any pic
        • Pics where they’re in the middle of eating something such as a large turkey leg or huge sandwich (I don’t have this problem, at all)
        • At a gun range, aiming / shooting a gun or a rifle
        • Only ONE photo and it’s of them wearing a face mask
        • More than one photo of JUST scenery or some landscape
        • More than one photo where must ask “which one is her?”
        • Photos where they are deep sea fishing and holding up a large fish they caught
        • Large set of photos where she is either not identifiable (back to camera, taken from far away so they’re tiny, etc) or not even in the photo
        • Photos of them kicking some guy’s ass in martial arts class (I definitely don’t have a problem with this)
        • Pics where they are on a motorcycle (obvs not a stopper for me)
        • Photos are only shoulders & above—none below
        • There is only one photo and it makes no sense
      2. Christians
      3. Beach lovers
      4. Golfers
      5. Attorneys (I think I may exclusively date lawyers in the future, frankly)
      6. Anyone that puts down their Myers Brigg and the third letter is a T – logic, versus F

And I thought I was picky!

My buddy says that he goes on far fewer dates but, the ones he actually goes on, he feels are more likely to last.

I think I’m the same way in that general concept. I get a lotta applications, but I send out only a handful of acceptance letters.

As for me, I have my own particularities but one clear red flag for me is when someone brings up how much they hate their ex or someone in their lives because I find that it’s usually the exact opposite of what they say.

Her: You have a lot of secrets.
Me: Yes. Because I’m very good at keeping them.
Her: Like you keep me a secret?
Me: Only because you asked. And I do as instructed.

Location: earlier tonight, in the rain just outside Union Square
Mood: content
Music: I started over again (Spotify)
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Cyrano de Low and the Siege of Melos

Yo-Yo, the Philosopher

Back before I met Alison, I recall writing emails to women on behalf of my friends, or – at the very least – editing them.

Now, with everyone texting these days, I find myself being asked by friends to respond to messages from women. It’s all pretty amusing for me, gotta say.

I was trying to explain to one friend that communication isn’t just what you say but what the listener/reader hears.

To further drive the point home, I told him something that I tell my friends alla time but also gave him two versions of the same concept: The first is by Thucydides during the Seige of Melos and the second by a kid called Yo-Yo in my junior high school.


On a related note, a young woman in my gym is going back to college – an ivy league – and wondering what she should pick as her major if she wants to go to law school.

Been telling her that, if that’s the case, she should really consider philosophy and read more from people like Thucydides – although, admittedly, he’s more of a historian than straight philosopher.

I actually never took any philosophy classes as an undergrad and it’s a regret of mine.

As for my own dating life, I saw the Acrobat and the Counselor recently, which is always entertaining, conversation-wise and otherwise.

Me: (noticing her ordering an open drink) Aren’t you concerned about roofies?
Her: With you? No. Not even sure I’d object. No wait, I would. I’d want to be awake for that.
Me: Noted.

The Counselor was actually in my area doing a cold sauna, for people with inflammation (everyone has inflammation to varying degrees).

The concept is to step into a super cold – negative 140 degrees Celsius – room and just be there for three minutes.

She was part ice cube when I met up with her.

Her: It was so cold, Logan!
Me: (laughing) I can imagine.

We ended up going to the Dublin House, which I’ve actually never been to, despite it being only a few blocks south of me and one of the oldest bars in NYC with a really cool neon sign that was recently rehabed.

Me: You should take advantage of me while you can. These looks won’t last forever.
Her: (shrugging) I figure that if you were going to fall apart, it would have happened already.

The Dublin House was cool but without air conditioning so we went to another of my usual bars around the way.

This one had both air conditioning and candy all over the place. Unfortunately, I’m dieting for a couple of things coming up so I ended up trying to hand the candy to other people so I wouldn’t be tempted.

We’ve both been so busy that we’ve not actually seen each other in a while so we ended up chatting most of the evening.

Her: My last boyfriend was closer in age to my dad than me.
Me: No kidding. What was the age difference?
Her: (thinking) 15 years?
Me: Wait, that’s the difference between us.
Her: Oh! You’re right. I forget.

Location: sitting in front of a 14TB external USB drive at 5400RPM and an 8TB external USB drive at 7200RPM with a USB-C hub and wondering if I should shuck both, and then swap the internals.
Mood: super tired
Music: Fell in love with a girl who’s a few years younger (Spotify)
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Don’t lead with that

That’s misleading

Her: So, you have allergies but you decided to bring in a ton of pollen producing plants into your home? If you two aren’t together any more, why don’t you get rid of them?
Me: (shrugging) I’ve grown accustomed to them. Plus, while it’s awful for me, hopefully, the boy will grow up with pollen and won’t get allergies. That’s the hope, anywho.

Back when Mouse was staying here, her health took a nosedive which broke my heart. Still does, TBH. But that’s neither here nor there.

We couldn’t figure out why – it turned out that my apartment is ridonk dry, with winter humidity levels in the teens but, I didn’t know that then – and thought it was maybe the air quality.

So, to this end, I started getting alla these air-purifying plants.

While she’s not been here in years, I kept alla the plants alive (mostly) and even started adding to the plant collection.

Now have two avocado trees, one of which is supposed to do well in apartments and fruit,…

…two blueberry shrubs, a snake plant, several ZZ plants, a spider plant from my friends at Evolution, one tomato plant, and a ton of scallions.

And, of course, I still have Harold.

Always wanted a fig tree and my mom was going to give me one, but it turns out that you actually need wasps to pollinate them so I’ll just have to content myself with figs from my mom.

Maybe I’ll try growing some strawberries?

So far, only the tomato plant has borne any fruit but I was thrilled to have them and made a sandwich with them just the other day.

It goes back to me liking to fix and build things myself. There’s just something about consuming – literally and figuratively – something you made yourself.

Speaking of fixing things, I’ve been fixed up about six or seven times in the past few months.

More if you count people like the French Dancer and Pharmacist that just randomly end up in my orbit.

I don’t write about most of them because the people that set me up are friends of mine that think well of me, so the last thing I want to do is gossip about the friends that they send to me.

Besides, everyone’s been lovely just…not really my speed for a number of reasons. Let’s just blame it all on me and my particularity, for the sake of brevity.

The funny thing is that, despite this blog detailing my pretty ridonkulous dating life, people continue to try to set up their friends with me.

I can only imagine that it’s pretty awful out there if I’m a top contender.

Still, hope springs eternal…

Her: I told her you were a lawyer.
Me: That’s misleading. I’m essentially an unemployed single-parent that spends most of his time rolling around with sweaty dudes.
Her: Don’t lead with that.
Me: Noted.
Her: Also, don’t mention the blog. God, why do you even have that thing?

Location: earlier tonight, the gym, trying to rip off my ex’s foot – she was trying to do the same, but better
Mood: hangry, of course
Music: Let’s make believe that we can fly (Spotify)
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Controlling the effects

Saw my mom and sis this past weekend. They were happy to see us, I think.

The cat, less so…

Also saw the surgeon, his brother, and their families this past weekend at another dinner party.

Surgeon’s wife: You really should ask out French Dancer. Except, she’s really young.
Me: Yeah, really young. I’m busy enough as it is, anywho.
Her: Oh! What’s the latest?
Me: Where to begin?

A couple that I didn’t know was there and the wife commented that I was probably 34 vis-a-vis something else entirely.

Me: Well, you get a hug for that.
Her: Wait, how old are you?
Me: Almost 50.
Her: How is that possible?!
Me: (shrugging) Same as everyone else: 24 hours a day, seven days a week. For 49 years.

I often marvel at how many really good souls I’ve met in my life.

While my luck – broadly speaking – is of the stripe most people don’t want, in that small regard, I consider myself lucky.

On a related point, there were about five women that I met after Alison died. They all had a hand in helping me pull myself outta my crazy and depression, to varying degrees.

Unfortunately, I was probably the worst version of myself so it’s no surprise that none of them are really on speaking terms with me. I get that.

It’s one of my 10,000 regrets.

On that point, Lviv rang me today. After everything that went down between us, I’m touched that she still finds the time to check in on me.

I told her, honestly, that I was grateful.

Me: Before you left, you said, very simply, “Love shouldn’t be this hard,” [about a messy situationship I was in]. I appreciate that and you. Thanks for that.
Her: Aww it’s good to hear, I just want you to be happy.

She didn’t realize what a profound effect her throwaway line had on me. In fact, it’s probably the main reason everything in my life has been so different – and better – these past several months.

Of course, she’s part of my possible pasts. I wonder what woulda happened between us if things were different.

I wonder about so many things that were just-ever-so-slightly outside of my control.

Boy: Why’s he so mean?
Me: I dunno, kid. Here’s the thing, though: You can’t control other people and how they treat you. But you can control how you let things affect you. Pretty soon, you won’t care. So, you can start not caring right now.
Him: OK. I’ll try.

Location: earlier today, chatting up a tall singer named Izzy in a park
Mood: hopeful
Music: I’m out of my mind but I’m feeling just fine (Spotify)
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Still Mr. Fix-It

I’m a slow learner

Do you remember when I told you that I had my fridge repaired almost exactly a year ago?

Welp, it broke again. Last time around, it was the water dispenser, this time around it was the ice maker.

I did some research and it turns out that most modern icemakers in fridges attach via only one or two screws and a single power cable. My particular model attaches with only one screw and one cable.

You can see the screw on the left in the middle attached to the fridge, and the cable on the right, attached to the power.

So, I decided to order the part and try to fix it myself.

20 minutes after it arrived, it was installed. Fastest repair I’ve ever done.

Don’t understand people that don’t like to fix things themselves because it’s like a real life puzzle with tangible rewards at the end.

If anything, I try to fix too many things that I should just toss.

Sometimes, it takes me a while to realize that something’s broken beyond repair. I’m a slow learner but I do eventually learn.


Speaking of tangible rewards, the Scenic Fights guys want me shirtless in our next shoot so I’m back on a strict diet for the next 45 days.

But my physical therapist was having a party with pizza and I figured it was worth it to have one last night of carbs in the form of beer and pizza.

Several people from my gym came by so that was fun – especially since several people from my gym decided to do some human tricks.

It was all pretty entertaining. I probably had a lot more pizza than I shoulda.

His office is right around the Gamergirl so I was tempted to give her a ring just to catch up but then The Counselor hit me up with what I thought was an emergency.

And it was, in a manner of speaking. She found an unwanted guest in her Manhattan apartment: A stink bug.

I found our conversation pretty hilarious and figured you might as well.

The Counselor went to DC for work not soon afterward (and potentially stayed at the same hotel that Alison and I did, which was kinda a kick in the head) so she’s hoping at the bug made it way out and is happy somewhere in Central Park.

We should all get to visit pretty ladies in Manhattan at night and go to Central Park the next day.

Location: earlier today, asking a pretty blonde to get lost
Mood: hangry…very hangry
Music: I’m sorry for being broken (Spotify)
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Memorial Day Weekend 3: PSA – Recognizing a drowning victim

Drowning doesn’t look like drowning

Mentioned before that the kid “graduated” his swimming class recently – which means he can do some basic floating and kicking.

Well, when we first got to my buddy’s pad and the boy saw the pool, he was so excited that he cannonballed right into the deep end of the pool.

Luckily for both of us, I had already emptied out my pockets and taken off my shirt so I immediately dived in after him and hauled him out.

He was SUPER upset and wanted to get outta the pool but after a few minutes, calmed down and was back in the pool for a bit.

I’d gotten dressed and was chilling with my friends but kept an eye on him for the remainder of the day.

After a while, we both relaxed and I proceeded to absolutely crush whatever food was offered.

While I was doing this, the kid had climbed on top of a clear banana float. Almost as soon as he got on, he slipped off in the middle of the pool, which was still over his head.

I saw him go under and he exhibited all the classic drowning signs – which, if you don’t know, look nuthin like in the movies.

Here they are, for your edification, alla which the kid displayed perfectly.

        1. Mouth at water level, bobbing in and out of the water
        2. Arms out to the side.
        3. Head tilted back.
        4. Vertical body
        5. Gasping for breath.
        6. NO SOUND!

When someone is drowning, they’re desperately trying to breathe so there’s no chance to yell out, “Help.”

But as soon as I saw that he exhibited all six signs, I dove in after him, fully dressed.

This is what we looked like a few minutes later.

The whole process – my assessment and then going in after him – took less than two seconds but it felt like an eternity.

I pulled him out, sputtering, for the second time that day but this time there were no tears or crying.

He simply looked at me and said, “I’m sorry you had to get your shirt wet to save me.”

I wanted to cry. Partly because I’m always terrified of something happening to him, and partly because – goddamn, what a sweet little kid.

He almost drowns for the second time with me and is worried about me messing up a $20 tee-shirt. This is kid is gold.

Me: It’s fine. This my job. I’m here to take care of you.
Him: OK, papa. Thank you.
Me: I love you, kid. Let’s not scare papa like that again, ok?

Think that one of the hallmarks of good friends is that they try their best to make life annoying for you.

Case in point, there was a twisty slide that you can see in the above photo that the kid loved going down.

But, because it was at the deep end of the pool, I had to literally catch him and carry him all Lion-King-like to the shallow end of the pool.

Rick: (to my son) Do you want to go down the slide? Your daddy will catch you.
Me: What? No!
Him: Yay! Slide!
Me: (to Rick) God, I hate you.
Rick: (to son) It’s fun right!?

I did that half a dozen times before Gar’s wife, Wynn, gave him a life vest and I could go back to day-drinking.

He literally spent the next three hours climbing up the ladder, counting down 5-4-3-2-1, and then going down the slide.

When I was a very little kid, I remember my mom in either a pink or white dress and her suddenly jumping into a pool while we were on vacation somewhere.

Turns out that it was my kid sister drowning and my mom sprang into action. There’s nothing quite like a parent’s love for their child, which makes the recent national events in Texas all the more gutting.

In any case, all these years and decades later, and I still remember well when my mom saved my sister.

I suspect this past weekend will join it as one of my fondest memories.

Him: Do we have to go?
Me: All good things come to an end at some point. But we’ll do this again.
Him: Promise?
Me: (nodding) Absolutely.
Him: I’m sorry about your shirt.
Me: Don’t be. As long as you’re ok, I’m ok. OK?
Him: (nodding) OK.

Location: tonight, a party in midtown with PT Steve
Mood: grateful
Music: why you gotta be so in between loving me and leaving (Spotify)
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