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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.e
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.
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.
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 Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
Me: (after dropping something) Sorry, I can’t get it up. Her: (bursts out laughing) Do you… Me: (sighing and holding up hand) I heard it when I said it.
My collection of injuries seems to be growing every single day.
About a year ago, I started getting these weird wrist pains. They’d come and then go, no real rhyme or reason.
For the past month, my wrist has been bugging me non-stop; I don’t go to the gym anymore without a wrist brace on.
This is just an old pic of mine after some party.
Then, about a week ago, I started getting these shooting pains in my lower back.
Him: Are you ok? What happened?! Me: That’s the thing – nothing happened. No major event. It just started hurting one day.
A buddy of mine is a doctor, and I mentioned it to him. He asked me a few questions, which I answered.
Him: Sounds like you have a herniated disk. Me: What?! You’re kidding. What do I do? Him: (shrugging) Wait and try not to injure it more. It takes about two years to resolve itself.
The Firecracker started digging around and found something called The McKenzie Method for back pain.
Essentially, it’s about seven exercises that you do every 2-3 hours; it takes about 15 minutes to do from start to finish.
Man, I hate it.
But I hate feeling like an old man more so…this is what I’m doing for the foreseeable future.
Blargh.
Her: (to a friend) I’m glad that Biden dropped out. I can’t vote for him again. He’s older than Logan. Me: That was uncalled for.
Location: my floor, doing these $@#$@#$ exercises
Mood: grumpy
Music: I just keep pretending I’m okay (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
In the red bag that my mom brought to me while I was in Flushing was my Junior High School yearbook, that my sister found and told her to get to me.
The reason I was thrilled to get it was for one reason and one reason alone – I wanted to figure out the name of my English teacher.
See, the most influential teacher I had was a Ms. Meltzer and for years I always meant to find her and let her know that, but life got in the way.
Plus, I had no idea what her first name was.
But with the yearbook, I immediately looked for her and was disappointed to find that it only had her first initial was “B” and that led me – well, really, the Firecracker to a search and we found “Binnie Meltzer’s” obituary.
I’m certain it was her.
It made me both happy and sad; happy in that I found her, in a manner of speaking, and – of course – sad that I was too late.
She died in 2006. A lifetime ago.
She was the first teacher that I was always happy to see and that made me think that I had any type of talent for anything at all.
If she was still alive, I woulda told her what a profound and positive influence she was on me – I write because she told me once that I was a good writer and I believed her.
That’s the power of a good teacher.
Goodnight, Ms. Meltzer.
You were an amazing teacher and human, and I’m forever grateful we met.
On a much more mundane note, because of alla my injuries, my sleep’s been crap lately, so the Firecracker suggested that I get some nature – well, as much nature as NYC provides.
To that end, we had a little picnic in Central Park near Sheep’s Meadow, which was pretty great, I gotta say.
Her: Honestly, this is all I really need. My person, a picnic, a park, and my pup. Me: I could do without onea those things. Her: Oh, stop…
Location: supermarket for tea, which I forgot to buy despite it being WHY I WENT IN THE FIRST PLACE
Mood: annoyed at myself
Music: I got an open mind so, tell me where you wanna go (Spotify) Subscribe! Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.
That pretty much says it all; evidently, if a wife gets cancer a husband is six times more likely to leave than the other way around.
Put another way, if a husband gets sick, the wife is six times more likely to stay and help while the husband is six times more likely to peace out if the wife gets sick.
What. The. Fuck.
That made me so mad that I couldn’t sleep. The inequity of it all.
I stayed for one reason alone, which was that she was my wife. We were a team. Sickness and in health and all that shit. That was the deal. And I knew, in my heart-of-hearts, that she would have done the exact same for me.
She would never have left me.
And it never once occurred to me to leave her. How could I? She needed me. Plus, she was my wife, and I loved her.
Full stop.
I’ve seen this firsthand.
Have a scumbag relative that cheated on his wife and divorced her while she had cancer.
I have zero to do with him and plan on having zero to do with him ever again.
And Newt Gingrich divorced his first wife Jackie when she had uterine cancer and his third wife Callista after she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
All this to say nuthin of Trump and his multiple marriages, rapes, and affairs.
Party of family values, folks.
What a fucking joke.
Think the reason this whole thing bothered me so much is that I knew how much Alison suffered with her cancer and the thought that someone out there in Alison’s situation has to deal with her same horror AND also have to deal with the pain of being tossed like a piece of garbage by the person she pledged her life to makes my blood boil.
Yet another reason why I think the less I have to do with people, the better.
I didn’t know Shannon at all but, man, no one deserves having to deal with the hassle and heartbreak of a divorce while facing death.
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.
