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personal

Not everybody

Joan Murray survived a 14,500 Foot Fall

Last year, I saw a guy fall into the tracks at Times Square.

Two fellas immediately hopped into the tracks to save him, which I thought was pretty admirable.

But whenever I see something like that, I think of an old joke that goes something like this:

A songbird was flying one winter day when it got so cold that he dropped right outta the clear blue sky onto a farm.

The bird lay there helpless and injured until a horse walked by and, not noticing the small bird, dropped a huge steaming pile of hot poop on him.

The poop, however, was warm and made the bird feel much better – so much better, in fact, that he started to sing. But then a cat heard him sing, found him, and dug him out.

The bird was happy to be outta the poop, but the cat didn’t give him a chance to thank him because the cat gobbled him up and went on with his day.

There are three (shitty) morals to his story:

    1. Not everybody who shits on you is your enemy.
    2. Not everybody who digs you outta shit is your friend.
    3. When you’re in deep shit, shut up.
This is a picture of when a bird pooped on the Firecracker – which happens with alarming regularity.

Now, there’s actually a real life version of this joke about a woman named Joan Murray who survived a 14,500 foot fall, which is almost three miles of free fall straight down.

See, she was sky diving and BOTH her parachutes failed.

Normally, this would be just a death sentence, but she ended up crashing into a huge ant hill – but not just any ant hill, a fire ant anthill.

If you don’t know what a fire ant is, it’s a venomous ant that can these intensely painful stings.

Normally, if you fell onto a fire ant hill, that would be at the very least, an incredibly painful experience – most likely you’d end up in the hospital.

In Joan’s case, however, the softness of the mound coupled with the intense pain of the venom kept her alive with the former softening her impact and the latter keeping her heart beating.

She ended up in a coma with shattered bones on the right side of her body and a few lost teeth, which required 20 reconstructive surgeries, 17 blood transfusions, a metal rod into her right leg, and 5-inch spikes grafted onto into her pelvis.

But she survived.

And she survived precisely because these fire ants were trying to kill her.

Joan actually died in 2022, 23 years after her accident, of cancer (unfortunately – fucking cancer…) with nary a parachute nor fire ant in sight.

(c) Unilad

I’m telling you this story because I see how the kid sees the world: In simple terms of black and white.

Children and the stupid see things so simply binary.

It’s difficult for me to figure out how to explain these subtle nuances in the world, especially in light of world events, to him and, well, generally stupid people, who are uncomfortable with grey.

Soupy grey is never appealing, but it’s still more realistic than stark black-and-white.

Him: If Donald Trump lies all the time, how did he become president?
Me: (whistling) Hoo-boy. That’s gonna take a little while to explain. Not now though.

Location: downright balmy 40+ degree NYC
Mood: not completely frozen
Music: it’s your heart, it’s alive, it’s pumping blood (Spotify)
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personal

It only took 27 years

Everything takes forever

Me: I need a weapons area.
Her: You totally need a weapons area – you have so many!

Around late 2013, because Alison and I kept losing pregnancies, our lives just stopped.

It’s part of why I stopped blogging for a bit in 2015; because it was getting too hard to hide all the sadness and bad news that we kept getting.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you some of it.

Probably not, though. It still fucks me up to this day.

My kid helping with some baking I was doing; next to him are two of the three vacuums we had.

Of course, the bad news kept getting worse until it was the worst news we could ever imagine.

Our lives, just like the blog, was off schedule. All the plans we had and suspended, were suspended indefinitely.

One little thing was that, for 27 years, the radiator in my back bathroom wasn’t working.

The old owners disconnected it for some reason and Alison and I always said we were gonna hook it up again at some point.

As usual, life kept getting in the way.

But the other day, I decided to remove two of the three vacuums that I have in my pad, mounted on a wall – why I have three is a wholly separate story that I may or may not tell you about down the line.

Didn’t match at all.

Unfortunately, the paint that I thought would cover up the removal damage dried out after 15 years of sitting in my basement.

Me: Dammit!

So, I went to my local paint store and had them match the paint. It didn’t match well at all.

Me: GODDAMMIT!!

Cutting off a chip of the drywall, the second time around, they were able to match it relatively closely.

This then led to a chain of events that ended up with a plumber coming in the other day and hooking up the radiator in the back room.

Here, this 40 second video of Hal/Bryan Cranston more adequately explains what happened, as well as why everything takes forever around here:

There’s a lot more to it but lately I’ve doing stuff around the house that’s been waiting to happen for between 10-27 years.

Told Buckley – the fella I first bought the apartment with some 20+ years ago – about what was going on.

Me: Hola! I just had the radiator fixed in the back bathroom TODAY. Can you believe that I never changed it?
Buckley: Guten tag! I recall it didn’t work. Are you telling me it stayed broken until today? If so, that’s impressive.
Me: Yup, broken for 27 years until this morning at 11am.

Hopefully, 27 years’ll be my maximum time for letting things sit broken around here.

Then again, I suppose I’ve been broken for some 51+ years…

Location: my warm back bathroom!
Mood: warm!
Music: Feels like home (Spotify)
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Tawk!

When it comes out

Me: He’s so dumb. Talking to him is like having a conversation with a goldfish that can tawk.
Her: OMG your Queens just came out!
Me: Dammit!

My Queens accent has come out twice with the Firecracker and she’s astute enough to catch it when it does.

To paraphrase Amy Ryan – who came from Flushing, Queens, same as me – from The Office: You can take the boy outta Queens…

One of the things that the Firecracker and I have been doing is digging through the dozens of board games up in here that I’ve literally never played.

They were either rando gifts or items that old tenants left in my building, and I was loathe to throw out.

Her: Wait, you own this and have never played it? How long have you had it?
Me: (thinking) Jesus Christ, like 25 years?

Case-in-point, The Firecracker pulled out a board game of Yahtzee the other day that I probably had since the 90s and yet never played.

Not once.

So, she and I did just that.

We both managed to roll some pretty insane things, such that our first round was pretty impressive.

It was all downhill from there.

Exciting times here in Casa Lo.

Me: I think we should never play this again, we’re never gonna top these rolls.
Her: (nodding) This is very true. No one is gonna believe us that you just rolled a full house.
Me: (shaking head) Nope.

It’s not Miami, or the Bahamas, or a nice cruise but it’s something.

Post engagement is non-stop excitement.

But it’s also exactly what I wanted.

Location: heading out for the sixth time to try and paint my wall.
Mood: desperately needing a nap
Music: I know, I know, I know, this is all I want (Spotify)
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The choices we make

A matter of inches

Me: (seeing a pic of the Firecracker) You were so young back then!
Her: Yup – now look at me. I’m with a very old Chinese man.
Me: Well, I wouldn’t say very old.
Her: Right. Because you’re not doing back exercises eight times a day and buying orthopedic butt supports?
Me: …
Her: Yeah…

The Firecracker was kind enough to surprise me with a back brace the other day for my crap back.

Gone from rolling around and fighting 20-somethings to sitting in cushioned chairs wherever I go and wearing a back brace.

On that note, I’ve also started seeing a chiropractor to add to my stable of doctors, physical therapists, and general clinicians.

Oddly, the first thing I thought of when I got the brace was the presidency and both Trump and JFK.

The assassin that missed Trump missed ending his life by perhaps an inch in several directions.

Between when the gunman pulled the trigger and when the bullet hit, enough time had passed that Trump shifted his head just enough to be merely grazed.

Contrast that with JFK, who was killed on the killer’s second bullet.

This is meaningful because the first bullet shoulda caused JFK to fall forward, as it did his companion John Connally, but it didn’t.

Because JFK was wearing a back brace due to his own major back issues.

A back brace changed the world.

Always find it so interesting that so much of life for the world writ large hinges on these rando choices we all make.

Then again, I should probably think longer about some of the choices I make.

Her: (cleaning and dancing about when I enter the room) How are you feeling?
Me: Eh, ok, I guess. (pausing) What are you doing?
Her: My sexy cleaning dance.
Me: Oh, when’s it gonna start?
Her: God, you’re so rude!

I should probably think longer about some of the choices I make.

Location: home at a hot pot get-together
Mood: ache-y still
Music: Woo hoo just a little bit of c’mon bring that back (Spotify)
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The duty of a champion

No such thing as a parttime champion

There’s a quote by a modern stoic named Ryan Holiday that I particularly like: The obligation of a champion is to act like a champion at all times.

Don’t think I’ve ever lost my cool and was happy about the results. If I can give the kid anything, hopefully, it’s a better sense of being calm and calculated.

To this end, I personally have been re-reading (ok, skimming) Meditations by Marcus Aurelius and also other stoic books here and there in the hopes that all this anger at the injustice of Alison and my dad’s suffering and deaths somehow becomes more manageable.

It’s a daily struggle, I have to admit.

One really sweet thing that we’ve been doing here at Casa Lo is to have regular board game nights with the kids.

It’s a small and silly thing but one that I appreciate greatly because children – at this age and younger – learn so much in competition and games.

Forgot to take pics, so I took the pic from this old entry in 2011 with Alison at Paul’s old pad.

We’ve been playing a few card games as well as board games, particularly what we call The Bean Game – addictively fun – and Settlers of Catan.

Both boys are pretty competitive but, because my son is younger, he’s still dealing with the emotions that come with winning and losing.

One night, recently, the kid had a particularly bad night and lost his cool, so I brought him to his room to have a chat with him.

I think I want what every good parent wants: For one’s children to be better than they are.

Hope I have enough time here to accomplish that.

After all, if we’re being honest here, it’s really the main reason I’m here.

Me: What’s the obligation of a champion, boy?
Him: To act like a champion.
Me:…at all times. Don’t forget that last part: At all times.
Him: But you lose your temper too, papa!
Me: I’m aware. I’m working on that. And that’s kinda my point: You can be better than me. And I want you to be better than me. Listen, if you act like a musician, with enough practice, you’ll be one. If you act like a BJJ player, you’ll be one. And if you act like a champion, you’ll be one. But you have to do it at all times. There’s no such thing as a parttime champion.

Location: rainy NYC
Mood: ache-y
Music: we mean to go on and on and on and on (Spotify)
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Oh, Ruth, Joe…what have you done?

Everything is crumbling away

Her: You were a nerdy kid when you were younger? I don’t believe that.
Me: Do you remember the kids that never got picked for any sports games?
Her: (laughing) Yeah. That was you?
Me: No. I was the kid that those kids beat up.

Years ago, I told you about a legal saying that really changed how I looked at the world: Sine qua non.

It’s Latin for, “But for…”

Meaning, But for John losing his job, he never would have started drinking, which lead to his suicide.

The self-importance of these people is what’s galling.

Or, But for the girls’ bullying, Annie never would have changed schools.

Thought of that and Ruth Bader Ginsburg the other night when Trump won the election.

Ruth was asked – begged, really – to step down while Obama was president so that he could appoint a liberal judge that would protect Roe. And yet she refused.

    • But for that refusal, Trump never would have been able to appoint three justices to the bench.
    • But for that appointment, the Supreme Court never would have been able to overturn Roe.
    • But for that appointment, the Supreme Court never would have been able to expand the power the presidency for Trump.
    • But for that expansion, Trump would probably have done his last few weeks of campaigning at the height of a trial for keeping classified documents.
    • But for that trial being dismissed, Trump may not have won the presidency.

Couple her arrogance with that of Biden’s – who should have stepped down years ago to allow a successor that could actually be likeable enough to win – and here we are.

In the end, it wasn’t that the country voted for a complete pig of a human being…

…it’s that the Democrats were so arrogant they couldn’t even beat a complete pig of a human being.

And now – Ruth, Joe – how sad it is that everything you spent your life trying to help and protect is crumbling away by your own self-importance and arrogance.

There’s a lot to be said for accepting the world as it, not as you wish it to be.

And this is why I drink.

Location: the kid’s schoolyard, talking to his teacher, hoping they’ll all be ok with a gunman on the loose
Mood: carb-eating, rum-swilling, machine
Music: this song is about you, playa (Spotify)
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It looks like me

But it’s not me

Just did my last shoot for Scenic Fights for 2024.

I’m not slated to do any more shoots until 2025, which is great, because I’m pretty beat.

Ever since we started doing these shoots, I’ve got a newfound respect for content creators; it’s pretty draining to shoot these scenes over and over again until they’re perfect.

I just checked – I did my first shoot in the summer of 2019 and we’re now closing in on 2025. Close to six years.

Man, time is just sprinting by these days.

On that note, check out the above video – it looks like me but it’s actually not me at all!

It’s an AI generated video from my Scenic Fights producer.

Wild, right?

(The picture above *IS* of me, though).

On that note, I met up with my boss at the law firm for lunch the other day at the Bryant Park Grill.

I’ve been with the firm, in one form or another, since 2008 or so, so some 16 years.

That too reminds me that life is sprinting by.

Now that I’ve been a lawyer for close to a quarter-of-a-century, I’ve been lucky in that I can be very picky with the new cases I take on.

Him: Well, what in particular?
Me: It’s gotta be something interesting OR with a huge payout. Otherwise, my patience for dealing with other people’s nonsense is pretty thin these days.
Him: (laughing) I get that. OK, interesting cases or big check.
Me: Essentially.

Location: in front of my sink, wondering if it’s time to call in a plumber
Mood: So. Annoyed.
Music: crazy how we live our lives, we spent it all on borrowed time (Spotify)
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Doing the right thing

Two different kids

Went to see my mom and sister for my nephew’s birthday the other day.

We went to Flushing first to get some dumplings from White Bear,…

…some Taiwanese from the local mall, and to get a little shopping done before heading to their place in Queens.

We didn’t eat all that much because my sister was going to get ribs and pizza for everyone for the bday.

It was a small affair, just some of my nephew’s school friends and us.

But, in the middle of it, a neighbor’s kid that stopped by for a brief bit and he was…just awful.

Obnoxious, loud, rude, etc. But I found out afterward that his family life was pretty rough and then I was torn.

Like, people are the way that they are because of their upbringing.

Then, on the ride home, we were in a packed subway car, and it was the NYC Dominican Day Parade.

Well, it was like half the parade was trying to be in our subway car.

In the middle of it, a teen girl turned on music, began dancing inappropriately, and then started vaping in front of my kid.

Me: (tapping her on the shoulder) Hey, can you not do that? My kid is right here.
Her: OK, sorry.

And she stopped. Also heard her say to her friends – that had packed the car and were also vaping, “Hey, there are kids here!”

When we left, I tapped the girl’s shoulder again.

Me: Hey, thanks for doing that.
Her: No worries, mister. Sorry about that.
Her friend: Yeah, sorry mister.
Me: You did the right thing here, so…thanks.

Martin Luther King Jr’s in the news again lately, for the most ridiculous reason.

But he had a quote on the topic that I’ve always liked that seems appropriate to this situation: The time is always right to do the right thing.

As we walked home, the kid talked to me about it all.

Him: They were really loud and scary. Why did you thank her?
Me: Because she did the right thing in the end. Yes, she should have been quieter and yes, she shouldn’t have vaped in the first place. But when someone recognizes they did something wrong and try to fix what they did, you have to give them credit for that.
Him: She was still really loud and scary.
Me: (nodding) Yes. But she was trying to do the right thing in the end. And we always hope that, even if it takes a long time, ultimately, people do the right thing. Maybe next time, she’ll be even better.

Location: a playground, watching a mouse explode
Mood: nauseated
Music: This is a moment in the prime of your life – you better own it (Spotify)
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No such thing as inclement weather

Only poor clothing choices

Her: The artichokes were good. But they’re just too much work.
Me: They’re the crayfish of the vegetable world.

It’s been quiet around here for a change. Most exciting thing was that I made the Firecracker artichokes for the first time.

Did get stuck in the rain the other day though.

It wasn’t that bad.

After all, there’s no such thing as inclement weather, only poor clothing choices.

Location: bed, waiting for the sandman
Mood: sleepy
Music: no music, just the rain
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My collection can’t be beat

The McKenzie Method

Me: (after dropping something) Sorry, I can’t get it up.
Her: (bursts out laughing) Do you…
Me: (sighing and holding up hand) I heard it when I said it.

My collection of injuries seems to be growing every single day.

About a year ago, I started getting these weird wrist pains. They’d come and then go, no real rhyme or reason.

For the past month, my wrist has been bugging me non-stop; I don’t go to the gym anymore without a wrist brace on.

This is just an old pic of mine after some party.

Then, about a week ago, I started getting these shooting pains in my lower back.

Him: Are you ok? What happened?!
Me: That’s the thing – nothing happened. No major event. It just started hurting one day.

A buddy of mine is a doctor, and I mentioned it to him. He asked me a few questions, which I answered.

Him: Sounds like you have a herniated disk.
Me: What?! You’re kidding. What do I do?
Him: (shrugging) Wait and try not to injure it more. It takes about two years to resolve itself.

The Firecracker started digging around and found something called The McKenzie Method for back pain.

Essentially, it’s about seven exercises that you do every 2-3 hours; it takes about 15 minutes to do from start to finish.

Man, I hate it.

But I hate feeling like an old man more so…this is what I’m doing for the foreseeable future.

Blargh.

Her: (to a friend) I’m glad that Biden dropped out. I can’t vote for him again. He’s older than Logan.
Me: That was uncalled for.

Location: my floor, doing these $@#$@#$ exercises
Mood: grumpy
Music:  I just keep pretending I’m okay (Spotify)
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