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personal

Rough hewing

We’re all working our way through life

Saw Blue Jean Eyes last week. Waited to write because I wanted to see how it panned out. No change, unfortunately.

She asked me the most peculiar thing once, she asked if I said unkind things about her afterwards. I asked her why I would. If you’ve read this blog long enough, you know I’m tired of being the bad guy.

Had dinner Saturday with some friends and strangers including a Candy Fiend from Texas:

Her: I read your blog, you know.
Me: Really? I’m always surprised…
Her: Are you depressed?

Is that how I come across?

Looking back at my entries, I think that, more than anything, I’m dorky/hopeful.

Yes, I have my miniature disasters and minor catastrophes, (see supra) but my last tiny calamity brought about this blog, friendship with rum, a better idea of what I want/don’t want in life, 72 to Canal, a dozen new satellites, and a few memorable, if short-lived, romances.

A fair trade, no?

I updated my About section to reflect my new age but everything else is still true.

I’m still hopeful. I’m still rough-hewing.

It’s good, that some things never change.

Location: walking five+ miles from home to the LES
Mood: confused
Music: don’t want to be second best Don’t want to stand in line

Categories
personal

Spring cleaning

I’ve got to learn to duck

That was unpleasant. I gotta learn to duck (warning: kinda gross – do not click if squeamish).

It’s just as well, I need to stay home and clean up. I bought myself what I think is the best canister vacuum, yet I haven’t used it once, I’m going to use it, I just don’t know when.

Her: Spring cleaning, eh? I wanna do that too. BTW, so many people are single these days, a friend called me yesterday to tell me that he and his girl just split up.
Me: Well, two friends of mine just got into relationships and someone I know just got back with an ex. But I think it’s all part of the same thing: spring cleaning.

Something about spring makes you wanna examine your stuff. The spring light sharpens things dull from the winter. You can see what’s worth working on and what’s gotta go. Doesn’t matter if they’re comic books, handbags, or relationships.

Last spring was terrible for me.

This spring, things are looking much better.

Excuse the mess – it’s I’m still a work in progress.

Location: @8:45 PM, on the UWS playing with sharp things
Mood: thankful
Music: if you’re gonna do it do it right do it with me
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personal

Cops and Robbers

Numbers sanctify

Cops are getting killed, left and right in my fine city. Crime is up.

I have a theory. Back when Giuliani was mayor, you got busted for littering or jaywalking. People had to respect the law. Now, with scores of people dying from bombs each day, and the public pretty much immune to it, it’s hard to take things like littering seriously.

The price of a life currently less than $20 here in the big city.

Wars, conflict, it’s all business. One murder makes a villain. Millions a hero. Numbers sanctify.
-Charlie Chaplin

Things never change.

Location: @1AM, East side, getting a call
Mood: tired
Music: my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray

Categories
business personal

Deviations

I’m always second-guessing myself

Just finished my exams. My brain is full. Don’t think I passed all of them but I’ll take what I can get.

It’s funny; I passed the bar on my first try, mainly because the law is fascinating to me – the law itself, that is. I find the practice of law not as interesting although it has its moments. These exams were not law related and dreadfully boring.

Dreadfully…boring…

On a different topic, I’d like to talk about THAT guy. You know him.

He’s the guy that gets up an hour-and-a-half before the exam ends, puts on his baseball cap and whistles on his way out.

Can’t stand that guy.

If you are that guy, please know that we despise you and wish you ill. I hope a truck drove past you on the way out and splashed your Gap khakis with mud.

Khakis.

Who wears khakis in the winter?

I’d like to point out that I’m the other guy. The guy that’s the last to leave the exam. The guy that makes the proctor go, “I said, ‘pencils down…sir.‘” (I’m old enough now that I’m scolded with the identifier “sir.”)

I leave last because I’m always changing my mind. I’m always second guessing myself.

I do it in life all the time. Why should being on the clock be any different?

UPDATE: 20070228 01:27
When I say “guy” I mean in the gender neutral manner. Such as: “I hate that guy (or girl) and hope that s/he never realizes how big his/her butt looks in those khakis.”

Location: @13:14, in Long Island figuring out standard deviations
Mood: exhausted
Music: get this feeling I’m in motion, a certain sense of liberty

Categories
personal

Church

Atheists have as strong a belief system as anyone

Linus: Do you ever pray?
Lucy: That’s kind of a personal question, isn’t it? Are you trying to start an argument? I suppose you think you’re somebody pretty smart, don’t you? I suppose you think. . .
Linus, turning to Charlie Brown: You’re right . . . religion is a very touchy subject.”

Had a disturbing discourse the other day.

An atheist woman I know was annoyed to find that a friend was a Muslim. Religion, she noted was a bad thing. Her friend was smart, couldn’t she see how stupid religion was? Her god wouldn’t make horrible demands, kill people and do bad things, she said.

But let’s follow the bouncing ball of logic:

How does she know that God doesn’t kill people and do, what we would think, are bad things?

Because if she had a god he would not do such things.

But then, that makes her her own god.

The god of her mind hasn’t fashioned her in his image so much as she has fashioned him into her’s. Therefore her god, or lack thereof, can never be greater than herself at her best.

That is dangerous because people fail themselves all the time (I know I do). And if your god comes from within instead of without, I submit that you are headed for some grave times when misfortune does come.

And it comes – man, does it come.

Everyone falls to their knees at some point because, life is cruel.

Now, I’m totally ok with the fact that I could be wrong about everything I believe; my religion is all about that (Matthew 26:41) but it bothers me that atheists are often so smugly certain that I am wrong.

I’ve actually never met more narrow-minded people than atheists (I’m not saying all atheists but most). This one, for example, has completely cut off communication with me because she disagrees with me.

And for those that say atheism isn’t a religion, I submit that it is because: we both believe in something beyond our abilities to prove.

I cannot prove to you there is a god but you cannot prove to me there isn’t.

It’s the zealots of any religion that drive people crazy. Those that are so certain that they are right that they just don’t want to hear any other possibility. She’s a zealot for atheism because, she’d rather tune out someone rather concede she might be wrong.

I do believe in God.

To believe otherwise would mean that I’m solely in charge of my life. And that’s far too much responsibility.

As Martin Luther said to his friend, Pray, and let God worry.

I respect what you believe, regardless if you are atheist, Muslim, Buddhist, whatnot.

I worry enough as it is.

Location: still in front of a stack of papers
Mood: bored
Music: worry, worry, super-scurry; call the troops out in a hurry

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personal

Cowboys

Aren’t most friendships finite?

I’ve been stuck here for a bit. Don’t ask. But it reminds me of something from a while ago.

One of my closest friends in college was a guy named Crawford who was a god at meeting women – he was (a) good-looking, (b) charming and (c) shameless. We had a blast for two years.

He told me a story once. He said that real cowboys were hired, maybe five to eight at a time, in one state to drive cattle to the other end of the country. This bunch of guys was thrown together for months at a time and, during this time, they were each others’ friends, doctors, entertainers, cooks and guardian angels. They needed to keep each other sane and safe to get the job done.

And once the job was done, they separated. No emails, faxes, phone calls, letters. Just onto the next job.

The question Crawford posed to me was: were they truly friends? Is there such thing as friendship when there’s a finite ending?

What about when two lovers separate – was there any love really there?

My answer to all is yes.

Because at some point everything ends. Life will take everything and everyone you love. There is nothing you can touch that you won’t lose at some point down the line.

Five months, fifty years, the time doesn’t make it any more or less real.

I take solace in that.

At some point, these people I loved, once loved me. It’s sad when relationships end but goodbyes are always sad.

Crawford and I both moved here to the big city. We met up once but then I never saw him again.

He was a good friend.

Location: @ 7:10 AM, taking the east side local
Mood: optimistic
Music: Its such a shame, Always ends the same

Categories
personal

Living in America

Being the smartest person in the room isn’t always a good thing

Hola! For those of you that read the same Book as me, I hope you had an awesome Xmas; for those of you that do not, I hope you had a great holiday.

I’m not sure if I mentioned this but I’ve been working on an online sitcom with Rain for the past several months now and it’s rapidly coming to fruition.

It’s pretty freaking exciting; basically he and I play the worst versions of ourselves and we’re surrounded by talent, which reminds me of a story about a NYC chef; I forget which one.

He was asked if he was smarter than his father (also a chef) because he was more successful and he replied that he wasn’t as smart as his father, and that‘s why he was more successful. His father, he said, was the smartest person in his father’s restaurant. He picked out the linens, did the marketing, made the menus, etc.

The young chef said was not the smartest person in his own restaurant. He hired people far brighter than he so he could concentrate on doing what he was good at – cooking. With the talented folk we’ve got, we can concentrate on our strong points.

Rain’s doing what he’s best at: writing and directing – he’s got more talent in his pinky than most people have period.

I’m doing what I’m best at: managing people & money and being absolutely abusive to Rain.

Location: @5:30; doing 4 MPH on the LIE
Mood: bouncy
Music: When there’s no destination – that’s too far

Categories
personal

The Sweetest Thing

The Sweetest Words in the English Language

I humbly submit that the poets are wrong when they say that the sweetest words are, “I love you.”

The way we use it these days (“I love that place;” “I love that show;” etc) cheapens it a lot.

December 2006 has been a horrid month for several friends of mine – some suffered the worst shock one can get, others had lesser shocks that still brought them to their knees. Five days ago, I got a call from a girl I only met once who said that she found out her boyfriend cheated on her. I got the call only because I was close by but I’m ok with that.

Four days ago, I got a call from a very close friend of mine who told me his mother passed away.

The time from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day is usually the best time of year for me. The best time. It’s so sad.

When my breakup happened, I called my brother, my sister and my friend Tommy.

  • My brother lives 1286.44 miles away but he caught the first flight here.
  • My sister is nearer and caught the next train.
  • Johnny, who had just returned from four months in China that morning, arrived at my place first.

I’m surprisingly toungue-tied at times where people’s hearts eat them up from the inside out. I think I’m at my best when I keep it simple and say what my brother, sister and Tommy said in one way or another:

I’m on my way.

Now I submit that those words…those words will make a grown man cry.

Location: @7:20 on Rt. 3, going home – like old times
Mood: sad
Music: Baby’s got blue skies up ahead but in this I’m a rain cloud

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business

Denny’s an FB

In yet another seedy hotel upstate

In yet another nondescript motel. Spend an inordinate amount of time in seedy hotel rooms.

Also, find that when I travel, end up eating junk – a lotta junk. Had Denny’s for lunch and tacos for dinner. Have no idea what comes over me when I travel. When I’m in the City, eat only healthful foods but man, once I change latitudes, I become Homer Simpson.

My hands are shaking again.

Got some sleep last night but not enough. This cold isn’t helping but I think the NyQuil is. Thank goodness for OTC drugs.

Actually had a thought today that it was Parkinson’s (especially since it’s all over the news these days) but then, that’s just me being a hypochondriac. I’m fine when I sleep six or seven hours and a wreck when I sleep less.

Better get to sleep.

You know, that Denny must be a fat bastard.

Location: Upstate NY in a bed with flowers printed on the sheets
Mood: Determined
Music: just leave it all up 2 me, we could have a good time
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personal

Train on Time

Both and I and the subways have changed – hopefully for the better

The N train at 3AM with most passengers sleeping – not that I’m jealous.

I remember that I used to take the train to and from high school – it took me an hour-and-a-half each way. Back then, the trains were covered in graffiti and filled with older people working their way through life.

Now the graffiti is gone and I’m one of the older people working his way through life. At least I dress better now.

I think.

Location: Back in NYC
Mood: drained
Music: it might sound strange but I wish it would rain
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