Tag: human condition

Categories
personal

What is home if not the people that call it that?

Never having a home

Speaking of home, movies like the Warriors – which is based on a true story that happened almost 3,000 years ago – can be countlessly retold because the themes of longing, home, and survival are universal.

Hold that thought.

While I enjoy the modern takes on the Incredible Hulk – particularly the 2008 Ed Norton reboot – for someone that grew up with the 1978 television series, The Incredible Hulk, it’s very different.

Not just in terms of technology, production values, and the like, but the thrust of the show itself.

Essentially, the modern movies make stories about a god-like/monster-like hero, the television show was mainly about the other part of the Hulk, Dr. Banner.

There, Banner is shown as a drifter, and I thought that the show was the story of a man with a mindless monster inside of him.

As I got older, I got wiser and thought it was the story of a man searching for a home with a monster inside of him.

But this was wrong also, I realized.

It was the story of man that can never have a home, ever. He must always be on the run and can never relax or settle down.

Not my copyright, obvs.

Because the moment he finds someone to create a home with, that person will forever be in danger of the monster inside him.

So, he can’t have any relationships – no friends, no lovers, no children, no one.

Which is why the ending scene was always of Banner walking alone, to nowhere, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a duffle bag.

Banner can never go home because he can never have a home. He will never have a home.

So, there’s no home to find.

Because what is home if not the people that call it that along with you?

And he has no one to call it that with him.

It’s such a tragic story and can probably explain how a primetime television series about a big, green, comic book character in the 70s lasted five years.

In any case, just a random thought.

Think I’m finally starting to understand the world a bit.

Which isn’t necessarily a good thing.

Oh, by the way, my son’s home.

Him: I’m home!
Me: (laughing) Yes you are!

Location: NJ, getting my treasure
Mood: steamy
Music: There’s a monster in me who shut down (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

As fine a legacy

The richest people

I’m 26 in that picture above. Half my current age.

When Alison was here, I used to do most of the cooking. And with the Firecracker, I cook most dinners.

It’s because Alison and The Firecracker both preferred cleaning to cooking.

But there are so many dishes that I wish I coulda made for everyone, but I just don’t have the recipe.

Me: I wish I wrote down some of my dad’s recipes. But I was so fucked up at the time.
Firecracker: You did the best you could with what you had. And just leave it at that.
Me: Thanks for saying that.
Her: Anytime. And it’s true.

My kid let me sleep in – like, seriously, sleep in – for Father’s Day, which I really appreciated.

It gave me time to just stay in bed and think about my dad.

I mention him a lot in this blog, but I wanted to share another story to give you some idea of what he was all about.

When I was a kid, I rarely saw him. He was out the door to job number 1 before I woke up for school, which meant that he was already up, dressed, and ready for the day by 7AM.

And I was usually in bed by 9PM but I didn’t see him because he went to school at night to try to better himself.

This left my mom home to cook and clean for us. We were poor so we almost never ate out or had take out anything.

She cooked 3-4 meals a day, because she also had to cook something for my dad at the crack of dawn.

When my dad retired, decades later, my mom was working. And he told her that she would never have to cook again.

He explained it to me once.

Him: Your mom stayed home to take care of the house so that I could work and make money for us. I told her that, because I have time now, I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning now while she’s working because it’s only fair.

And he did.

For at least the last decade-and-a-half of his life, he cooked every single meal he could for her.

He also wouldn’t let her clean up afterward.

That was the deal.

This was taken in 2002, 23 years ago when my life was so very different.

That’s who my dad was; he was a feminist and a liberal in many ways, without ever saying either word in his lifetime, I don’t think.

He just was madly in love with my mom, I think. And he innately believed in fairness.

He wasn’t without his faults, just like the rest of us, but when it came to his wife and family, he was the kinda guy we all wish we could be.

I miss his terribly, on this Father’s Day and every day.

I hope that what he gave me, I can give the kid so that the kid can give it to his family.

Suppose that’s as fine a legacy as anything.

Location: the couch, with the kid, watching Charlie Brown
Mood: nostalgic
Music: you wouldn’t have to say (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Showerheads and Siblings

Main Character Syndrome

Reading about the psychopath that blew up the IVF center in California gave me so many mixed emotions, least of which this asshole decided his opinion of the world trumped everyone else’s opinion of the world.

I don’t get how people think it’s ok, or even reasonable, to force their worldviews on others.

Like, that’s the ultimate in main character syndrome I can imagine.

But I digress.

Perfect Circles dropped me a line recently.

Her: Pregnant again! Number three joining us in August. Plainly we’ve lost our minds but it just felt like the gang wasn’t all here yet.
Me: That’s amazing, congrats!! Oh man, that was my dream, to have three kids. Alison only ever wanted to have two. Sigh.

Told her that I was thrilled for her, which is true.

But then that got me thinking: I’ve got a few embryos out in the world that I’m still struggling to figure out what to do with.

I’ve always wanted another child but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards.

In any case, one idea was to donate them to couples in need – ie, a couple that can’t produce a child on their own.

I seriously considered it in the past, but there’s an interesting phenomenon where people that are biologically related – a fact that they often don’t know initially – find each other and fall in love.

There’re a buncha stories like this:

    • Reddit reported revealed that a woman found out her six-year relationship with her boyfriend was really a six-year relationship with her biological brother after taking a DNA.
    • A Mississippi couple found out that – not only were they brother and sister – they were also twins!
    • A lesbian couple have suspicions that they might be half-siblings but plan on remaining a couple.
    • A couple from Brazil – with a six-year-old child – found out that they were actually brother and sister, both of whom were abandoned by their mother as children. The kicker is that they found this out together and live on the radio.

It’s not hard to see how they might fall in love; after all, we’re equal parts nature and nurture.

In fact, you can see how a hypothetical conversation might go:

Him: I love 80s music.
Her: Me too, my favourite band is Duran Duran.
Him: OMG, me too! I went to their last concert in London back in 2022.
Her: Wait, I was there too!

I’d read about this phenomenon ages ago but I was recently reminded of it when I visited my sister the other day.

I never told her that I fixed my bathroom but when I went to use her newly renovated bathroom, I found out that:

We both picked the same shower head – in the same colour to boot!

The one on the left is my sisters and mine is on the right. They’re the same colour – it’s just the lighting that makes it look different.

AND we picked the exact same tiles!

These are hers…

…and these are mine.

Again, we both did our bathrooms without discussing it with the other.

Anywho, yeah, I don’t think I’ll give those embryos away…

Location: the wet rain
Mood: brrrrrrr
Music: Tell me all the things that you like (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Another lost heart in the big city…

Wish to God I didn’t know now

Close to two decades ago, in the winter, told you once about finding a lost heart in the big city that a woman dropped when we smiled at each other.

I don’t think I ever told you that she was blond with a dark wool hat.

That’s all I remember.

It was a lifetime ago.

Back then, I’d tell people that everyone you meet out and about was single, sorta single and not single.

What a different life I’m living these days.

Was walking the kid to his BJJ class the other day when we found another lost heart.

And I was instantly back to 2006 in my old life.

At least, in my head.

In the past five decades or so, gotta say that one of the truest things I’ve ever heard was from a glam rock back in the 80s, of all things.

The song went:

I wish to God I didn’t know now
The things I didn’t know then

Fuck me if that’s not onea the truest goddamn things anyone’s ever written.

Location: my roof, wishing it would stop raining
Mood: sleepless
Music: my best friend died (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Alison would have been 46

I’m able to pay, for now

A little while ago, the Professor dropped me a line.

Him: If you’ve seen the HBO series Westworld there’s a line where a female robot is about to get her mind wiped again – to spare her from feeling the pain of her child s death – and she cries out “Please, no – the pain is all I have left.” I thought that line was quite powerful.
Me: (sighing) Yeah. Thinking of Alison and my dad is always painful but it’s better than not feeling anything at all, I think. Sometimes, I think differently, but for now, I agree.

There was also a NY Times Article that my brother sent me that had a subtitle that read, If grief is the price of love, I am unable to pay.

For now, I’m able to pay it.

But, early on, I thought paying it would kill me.

As I age, it’s a bit less painful.

Time just dulls everything.

Yet, when I do feel it, man do I feel it.

But I’d much rather feel it than forget her.

Because pain is the price we pay for love.

And pain is all I have left of her.

Well, that and the boy.

Him: I wish I knew her better.
Me: Me too, kiddo. You woulda loved her.
Him: And she woulda loved me?
Me: Oh, kiddo, she absolutely did. And she’d be so thrilled with the person you’re becoming.

Location: 2017, at least, in my head
Mood: complicated
Music: don’t look back from a hurt like that (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Something about Mary (Elizabeth Sawyer)

Feeling it acutely

This little girl named Mary Elizabeth Sawyer was born in 1806 and she led a fairly unremarkable life except for two things:

    1. She had a little lamb, whose fleece was white – as white as snow, in fact. And this little lamb followed Mary everywhere.
    2. Her friend, John Roulstone, upon seeing this, was so amused, he wrote her a poem about it.
Image via Art and Picture Collection, The New York Public Library.

The poem went:

Mary had a little lamb;
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.

And so the teacher turned it out;
But still it lingered near,
And waited patiently about
Till Mary did appear.

There’s some question as to the validity of all this, but I like to believe it.

See, almost everyone in America has heard about Mary, knew her situation, and remembered her little lamb that she loved so much, and that loved her so much.

But I’m struck that everyone forgot that Mary was a real person, with all her hopes and dreams, and people – and animals – that loved her deeply.

Even if the poem wasn’t actually Mary Elizabeth Sawyer, the hope is that Mary was a real person, and this was a real thing.

This coming week will be both Alison’s birthday and Mother’s Day.

Again and like always.

And the anniversary of her death is coming up as well.

Every May I struggle with the void that she left after she died.

As hard as that is, it’s even harder for the kid, who – year-after-year – feels the loss a touch more acutely than the previous year.

Moreover, I worry that she’ll just be a distant idea to him, like Mary.

Like, I picture her in my head like the picture above while I think that my son pictures her like the blurry main picture of this entry.

It’s her but it’s…blurry.

Then again, it’s always good to be remembered in some positive way.

Whether that be in a children’s rhyme or a blog that almost no one reads.

I’ll probably write more later, but I just wanted you to know that the Lo household was thinking about her this May, like we do every May.

And like I always do.

Him: Papa! Did you know that there’s a country called Burkina Faso? Isn’t that a cool name?
Me: It is! Did you know that mommy used to go there all the time?
Him: She did? Why?
Me: She worked for a place called Helen Keller and was always trying to help people. That’s one of the things that I always loved about her. She was always trying to help people – she was such a good person, kiddo. Maybe, when you grow up, you can help people like she did.
Him: I will!
Me: (nodding) She’d love that. She would have loved that. And you.

Location: home, worried about the weekend
Mood: concerned
Music: A few years had gone and come around (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

I was born before…

…a lot of major historical events

With the warming weather, the Firecracker and I hit up TikiChick for drinks and their killer chix sammies recently but the place was packed, so we just ordered three chix to go.

We went to another of our fave dive bars, Jake’s Dilemma, and realized they only gave us two, so I had to head back to get the missing one.

The lady there was so apologetic that she gave us three freshly made ones that were hot, so we had five total.

I may or may not have eaten alla them.

Told the kid recently that I was born before Google. He was floored.

So, that got the Firecracker and me to talking.

Me: I was born before all websites.
Her: I was born before mp3s.
Me: I was born before the Metrocard.
Her: I was born before streaming shows
Me: I was born before flat screen TVs.
Her: I was born before mobile phones.
Me: I was born before the Russian Federation.
Her: I was born before The Backstreet Boys.
Me: I was born before the third brakelight was a thing, man that was stupidly controversial as a kid.
Her: I was born before wifi.
Me: I was born before the Euro.
Her: I was born before the Czech Republic.
Me: I was born before the UFC.
Her: I was born before the Berlin Wall fell.
Me: I was born before the Challenger explosion.
Her: Oh, I was not!

The above is the first commercial for a flat-screen TV.

I believe that it’s at least $20,000 if adjusted for today’s dollars.

It was released in 1998, when I was still working at Cnet and I remember (a) this commercial and (b) speaking to LG about their plans to make their own flat screen TVs.

Crazy, alla these things were years/decades ago, and yet, they feel like just a few years ago to me.

Me: I was born before Diet Coke.
Her: WHAT?! When did it come out?
Me: Early 80s? The only real option before that was Tab. (thinking) Wait, *THAT’S* where you draw the line at my age?!
Her: (shakes head) I cannot believe you’re so old…

Not my pic – this is the original can of diet coke that someone is trying to sell for $425.

Location: home, with an impromptu kid’s pizza party
Mood: achy
Music: I know we’ve changed but change can be so good (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Pilate washed his hands

All the sinners, saints

Easter just passed, not too long ago.

While I’m now a devout atheist, you’d probably be surprised to know I was once deeply religious.

Interestingly, it was my repeated reading of the bible that really started me onto the path of being an atheist.

It’s not so much alla the insanely fucked up things the bible does and says, so much as the inconsistencies and repeated illogical situations that make me no believe.

But that’s neither here nor there.

On the topic of Easter, the story goes that Pilate didn’t kill Jesus, despite being the highest legal authority in the area.

Rather, he merely stepped aside so others could do it and he could have clean hands, literally, as he washed his hands of the entire affair (Matthew 27:24).

The best interpretation of this event, IMHO, comes from my fave Rolling Stones song, Sympathy for the Devil – I’ve mentioned it here more than once.

There’s a line that goes:

I was ’round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Strictly speaking, it’s unclear whose fate was sealed by this action:

    • Yes, Pilate sealed Jesus’s fate by not doing anything; he effectively made it so that the mob was able to have Jesus killed for standing up to the wealthy class.
    • But Pilate also sealed his own fate as well, once he let an innocent man die for doing the right thing, he was forever damned. Because he knew he was letting an innocent man die and no amount of hand washing could clean his hands of the stain.

The wealthiest in America are on track to kill off:

    • Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion – these are somehow bad things and bad words now.
    • USAID
    • Medicaid
    • Social Security
    • Education
    • etc.

And, it seems, we’ve sealed their fates, the fates of hundreds of thousands of people – and our own – by doing nothing.

Every time I think I can’t be any more disappointed in the world, I’m proven wrong yet again.

Location: Home Depot, picking up bullnose tiles
Mood: disappointed
Music: after all it was you and me (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Building up the opposition

Letter vs Spirit

When I was a kid, I loved the Support your local… films  with Support your Local Sheriff as my favourite of the two.

There’s a scene where an old crook named Pa Danby is trying to bust his middle-aged son Joe Danby outta jail.

Couldn’t find that scene but the above scene is before the bars are put in.

After the bars are installed, the dad tries to yank them out with Joe’s brothers and three horses, but the men are all flung from their horses and the bars don’t budge.

Joe: I could’ve told you it wouldn’t work.
Pa: Why not?
Joe: Because they set these bars in too solid.
Pa: What do you know about anything?
Joe: I helped to set ’em in.
Pa: You helped ’em put in those bars?!
Joe: I didn’t have nothin’ else to do.

Hold that thought.

Did you know that Jefferson Davis was the Secretary of War for the US right before he became the President of the Confederate States?

He built up and – vastly – improved the very army that he would face himself.

[Davis] suggested that the size of the regular army was too small and that its salaries were too meagre. Congress agreed and authorized four new regiments and increased its pay scale. He ended the manufacture of smoothbore muskets and shifted production to rifles, working to develop the tactics that accompany them. Id.

Been thinking about that fact and Support your Local Sheriff a lot lately because the kid and I’ve been arguing a lot lately.

He pushes back with me on a ton of things.

Me: You were supposed to call me.
Him: But you said call when I get out of school, you didn’t say right when I got out.
Me: True, but the point of your calling me was so I would know when to pick you up.

And I realize that it’s a delicate balance with having him be independent but also compliant – two wholly incompatible but necessary things to successfully function in society.

Balancing it properly leads me to no end of stress and us to no end of disagreements.

But this is my job, so I do it.

After all, my dad did it for me – and I’m sure he regretted teaching me to challenge everything.

Unlike Jefferson Davis, however, I’m fully aware that however I train him to behave, I’m gonna have to deal with myself, one way or another.

Because it’s the destiny of all fathers and sons to be adversarial on some things down the line, no matter how much we support and care for one another.

That’s just how things are.

But I’ll always be on his side, whether he realizes it or not.

Here’s hoping that I’m doing it right.

Him: You didn’t say that! You just said to call you after school.
Me: (sighing) Fine. But the next thing we gotta chat about is the letter of the law vs the spirit of the law…

Not looking forward to the teenage years.

Location: My incredibly dusty room sans bathroom
Mood: beat tired
Music: you start me up before breakfast – how about we fight fire with fire? (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Wait and hope

My one and done

Her: I’m not against it per se but, Logan, if we have a kid, say, next year. You’ll be 73 when she’s 21. Do you really want to be 73 with a 21-year-old kid?
Me: Whoa, I never thought of it like that.

Alison was the oldest of three; two girls and a boy.

As the middle of three, we were the mirror of that; two boys and a girl.

She always wanted two or three kids, whereas I always wanted three. My son was always supposed to be the oldest of – ideally for me – three kids.

After Alison died, the thought of more kids was the furthest thing from my mind. After I started feeling better, I kept thinking that I needed to get into a stable relationship ASAP so that I could give the kid some siblings, which he’s always wanted.

That might have put undue pressure on my relationships after Alison.

The Firecracker and I discussed having more kids. I still dream of having more kids but I’m 52 this week (!!).

The practicality of having more kids seems less practical by the minute.

Although the NFL Player insists that we won’t regret it if we do – and he’s right, I’m sure we wouldn’t regret it. The issue is everything involved in it.

And the fact that the kid’s birth was so much joy wrapped up in so much horror further makes me more hesitant.

To this end, I’ve begun giving away alla the things I’ve been keeping the basement for the past seven or eight years in the hopes of having another kid.

Gave away a baby diaper pail, a chair that Alison got to nurse on, and the kid’s crib, which was probably the hardest thing to give away.

I love the boy in a way that I don’t have words to adequately express it.

And I’m sure I’d love whatever siblings he might have.

So, I do what I’ve done my entire life with everything, and do as Dumas said to do, Wait and hope.

Location: my old gym, shooting more scenes
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Open up the door, c’mon sing me home (Spotify)
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.