Emotionally is a different matter

Intellectually, I know

My buddy Ricky stopped by my pad the other day because he was in the neighborhood…

Me: The Firecracker baked cookies, you want one?
Him: Sure! (later) Is that real milk [in the coffee]?
Me: Shoot, yes. I shoulda thought about that.

…and Bryson gave me a ring to see how I was doing. I’m guessing they read up on my mom and wanted to make sure we were all ok.

Bryson: Dude, next time, before you rent a car, gimme a call. I’m happy to pick you up and get you to your mom.
Me: Thanks, man. I appreciate that. But, what’s going on with you?
Him: Nah, man, I didn’t call to talk about me, I called to check in on you.

I’m grateful for old friends that check in with me to make sure that I’m ok.

Speaking of being ok, I’ve been seeing a therapist for some time now.

She asked me this past week the details of what happened with Alison.

Me: Oh, I thought I told you.
Her: You only told me that she died and your struggles with everything. You never told me the details.

So, I did.

About halfway through it all, I realized that she was crying. By the time I wasdone, she was pretty emotional – well, as emotional as a professional can get.

Her: (drying her eyes) That’s a lot for you to have dealt with.
Me: She dealt with more.
Her: Well, thank you for sharing with me. And you should be kinder to yourself.

Told her that I felt guilty that I was alive and got to spend alla this time with the kid and she didn’t.

She only got to hold him once.

Just writing that sentence fills me with both sadness, anger, guilt, and a bevy of other emotions I can’t fully express with my limited vocabulary.

Her: There’s useful guilt and useless guilt.
Me: (nodding) I know. Intellectually, I know. Emotionally is a different matter.

Such a different matter.

Location: In my head again for a bit
Mood: worn-down
Music: My mind, it likes replaying my regrets all night. My pain, I hide (Spotify)
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Critical thinking isn’t the most important thing

It’s issue spotting

Me: Hello, hot blonde.
Her: Hello, handsome old Chinese man.
Me: The “old” was really not necessary.
Her: But accurate!

I’ve said repeatedly that my major goal for the boy is teaching him critical thinking.

Unfortunately, the recent (massive) hurricanes and flooding happening here in the US – and abroad – around has made me reassess the contours of that.

I recently decided that critical thinking is secondary to a more basic skill: Issue spotting – which is determining if there’s even a problem in the first place.

Came to this realization seeing how many people I know in life that deny climate change.

As an aside, all self-identify as Republicans and many have a religious bent, which makes me feel all the more foolish for ever voting republican and ever being religious at all.

In any case, back in law school, I remember that everyone is taught two basic skills:

      1. Issue spotting, and then
      2. issue solving.

It’s always in that order because all law school exams – especially the bar exam – essentially tests on both whereby, if you’re unable to spot the issue in the first place, your chance of correctly answering the question is nil.

This is where I’m finding we are as a society; half of the people are concerned about answering the issue, whereas the other half denies that an issue even exists, often pointing to one lone dissenter and ending the argument there for them.

There’s no ability to critically think about a solution because people can’t even see that there’s a problem that needs solving.

This is terrifying, on so many levels.

And it’s happening everywhere and all at once.

Me: You don’t think it’s an issue that you’re 35 years old and have nothing saved for retirement?
Him: (puzzled) Retirement is like 30 years away; I have plenty of time.
Me: JFC…sit down. I need to explain a lotta things to you.

Location: my stoop, chatting with a friend that stopped by to check up on me
Mood: beyond busy
Music: don’t overthink it – like all my problems, I don’t have one (Spotify)
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My 18 Year-Old Toilet from Hell

Believing it

I think people move a lot in NYC – or in general.

Like, the Firecracker’s moved six times in the last decade.

Me: Wild.
Her: Yup.

My college buddy and I moved into my current apartment waaaay back in 1996, but we ended up buying it in 2004, which is still almost 20 years ago.

Been here ever since.

Anywho, in November of 2004, we gutted one of the bathrooms ourselves and hired a contractor to fix it up, including putting in a new toilet and vanity.

We ended up buying the Kohler Rialto K-3386 for $349, which is roughly $19 a year, amortized across these 18 some years.

Now, the seat on that bad boy cracked so I decided to just swap it out – the first time since it was installed in 2004.

Welp, that started a long journey that ended up with my getting rid of the entire toilet.

See, the reason we got this toilet was because it was the absolute smallest toilet you could buy that was still mass produced.

BUT, because it’s so small, it had a special mechanism to attach the lid to the toilet. I did not realize this until it was too late.

Evidently, I’m not the only one.

I’m living in an interesting period of my life right now in that I’m aware that I won’t be here forever.

After all, Everybody knows they are going to die, but no one really believes it.

Figure that, at some point, this pad will be the boy’s and I wanna limit his frustration.

Was gonna buy the kit to replace the toilet but, having read up horror stories of people doing all that only to crack their decades old toilet, I just decided to toss the whole thing.

Enter my buddy Wally who said he would do it for free.

Him: Just the hands-on experience is enough.
Me: Absolutely not!

I’m frequently surprised how many really lovely people I’ve met in my life, and he’s one of them, for sure.

So, last weekend, he and I discovered just how gross removing a 20 year old toilet could be.

Yes, this is super gross looking – that’s what bits of wax ring looks like over a flange after 20 something years.

One thing that we did was remove the old wax ring that seals the gap between the flooring and the toilet.

Him: Sorry, I got some on the floor.
Me: Dude, no need to apologize, this stuff is getting everywhere.

What shoulda been like a two-hour project, turned out to be four hours because so much had rusted in place and needed replacing.

And at least three hours trying to clean up the ridonk mess. Ridonk.

Buuuuut, afterward, this is what my bathroom looked like.

It’s a slightly longer toilet – 27.5″ from the wall versus 25.5″ but it’s now dual flush and is probably gonna be good until I’m 70.

I’m aware the flaps are up on the bolt for the seat. Too lazy to retake this picture.

Then it’s the kid’s problem, not mine.

Boy: That’s so cool!
Me: Glad you think so, kid.
Him: I’m gonna watch YouTube.
Me: (sighing) Yup.

It’s fate after almost 20 years of loyal service – oh, the ignominy!

Location: the kid’s BJJ class, watching him take an elbow to the face (accidentally)
Mood: panicked, not about the elbow
Music: I’ll be back home one day, before long (Spotify)
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Decisions are processes, not events

Coffeetime?

Me: Man, this coffee is great…wait, what time is it?
Her: (checking watch) 3:23?
Me: Dammit!

When we were out in Long Island, the Firecracker and I chatted about being parents, which we usually do.

The most important thing for me, as a parent, is to teach the kid how to think critically think.

Again, how to think, not what to think.

The recent Titanic sub disaster made me think a lot about smart people making terrible decisions.

James Cameron, the director of the film Titanic – and an amateur sub enthusiast himself – said that he knew exactly what happened to the sub before alla the details were even out.

It’s easy to call the CEO’s decisions things like stupid and moronic but it’s a lot more complex, and dangerous, than that.

Because people seem to look at decisions like singular events:

      • I decided to go to law school.
      • I decided to have waffles for brekkie.

But they’re not that at all: All decisions are the cumulation of processes in our heads:

      • I decided to go to law school because my dad wanted me to and I didn’t feel I was ready to stop learning yet. And each of those two reasons had many reasons beneath that; my dad felt that lawyers and doctors were the best professions that two children of immigrants could have. Plus, I spent my life alone with books, so I wanted to find a way to continue that.
      • I do occasionally have waffles for breakfast, but only when I haven’t had carbs in a while so I’m in a relative deficit of carbs and can “afford,” to splurge on something like waffles. But if I do that, I then have to be in the gym for two consecutive days.

Sometimes these processes happen in the blink of an eye, sometimes, these decisions take weeks, months, or even years to fully happen.

The CEO most likely made a series of smaller poor decisions based on various cognitive biases that he had – the worst decision being to use carbon fiber for the hull instead of metal – ultimately resulting in the disaster.

What I’m hoping to give this kid are good tools to process each step of any decision as best as he can.

Which is not, at all, to say that it’s or I’m perfect.

I’ve made some terrible decisions in life; decisions that I still ruminate on late in the night when I can’t sleep.

And I try to figure out which tool I ignored, disregarded, or am simply missing.

For example, I have a rule where I never have coffee/caffeine after 3PM.

But I can’t tell you how many times I’ve disregarded that rule for one reason or another – societal pressure, sunk cost bias, confirmation bias, optimism bias, overconfidence, etc – with disastrous results.

My son will make bad decisions in life. That’s what people do and that’s part of how we learn.

I just hope that (a) they’re not decisions that he can’t change later on and (b) he continually makes more good decisions than bad ones, and (c) he gets better at making good decisions as he ages.

I’m still working on alla that myself.

Me: I guess I’ll just toss it. Seems like such a waste.
Her: Do you want to be up all night?
Me: (sigh) Fair. What a shame…

Location: bed, waiting until noon to leave
Mood: headachy
Music: Feel the heat increase and my mind’s racing (Spotify)
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Dinner with my mom’s BFF

My mom’s tribe

After we finished our coffee, we drove by this once-small mall that I used to go to – it expanded quite a bit over the last few years.

Me: When I used to come here, there were only two stores. Now look at it.
Her: Wow, it’s definitely not two stores anymore.

She wanted to get some decorations for her place for the coming holidays.

Her: I always wanted the space and money to have holiday decorations for all the holidays.
Me: That’s tough to do anywhere, let alone Manhattan.
Her: Oooh, look! Halloween decorations!

Afterward, we went to have dinner with my mom’s best friend, her daughter, Mary, and her daughter’s boyfriend.

I met Mary when she was like two years old, and she and my sister were great friends. Her dad, Nick, passed away a few years ago and I told you about him.

Actually, ran into her once years ago not too far from my pad and she got to meet my son, but he was maybe two years old himself at the time.

In any case, my mom’s best friend had been wanting to see my son for a while so we went to have dinner at her house.

We were supposed to order food in, but Mary’s mom had clearly spent all day cooking because there was so much killer food, including appetizers of meatballs that my kid devoured.

Me: Your mom was a major reason why I was fat.
Mary: What?! You can’t blame my mom for that.
Me: I loved everything she ever made, have zero self-control, and can’t take personal responsibility for my actions.

The kid actually ate so many of the meatballs that he didn’t want dinner, which I kinda figured.

The Firecracker and everyone got along just swimmingly, which I knew they would.

Mary said I helped her with her SATs, which I vaguely remember, but it seems like lifetimes ago.

Afterward, we all talked about how we met.

Me: I can’t stand the apps but it’s a part of modern life now.
Mary’s Boyfriend: I didn’t mind the apps that much.
Me: I do have to say that you meet people that you’d never meet otherwise.

I think it’s amazing that my mom and her best friend met and kept in touch all these years.

When my dad died, she was a constant source of comfort and the same was true when Nick died.

Find it pretty adorable that these two immigrant women who speak broken English found each other and have been in each other’s lives for all this time.

Like I said, we spend our lives looking for our tribe.

My mom and Mary’s mom found it in each other, and I think I’ll be forever grateful for that.

Me: Thanks so much for everything! Let’s do this again soon – 30 years is way too long.
Mary’s mom: Yes!
Me: I’ll schedule you in for 2033. Maybe August…

Location: surrounded by kids and water
Mood: excited
Music: bring back the water, let your ships roll in (Spotify)
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It’s time to come home

Not that lawyer any more

Me: The problem is that you’re homeless and a stranger in a strange land. You’re not valued by him and never will be. But your friends and family are here.
Her: I can’t afford to live in NYC any more, Logan. I don’t have a job and I’m not 20 anymore.
Me: Plenty of people – your parents and mine – came here with less and spoke even shittier English than you…
Her: (laughs)
Me: …they all survived. They all thrived. It’s time.

A dear friend of mine, who moved away to be with the man of her dreams suddenly found herself in a nightmare.

She gave up everything – her home, her friends, her family, and her job, to be with this fella.

That’s her story to tell so I’ll end that part here.

But I told her things that I never told anyone.

Never told you either.

Because I not only lost both my families in 2017, but I also lost my career.

Never told you, but when I lectured in Malaga, over a decade ago, my topic was the right of publicity versus the right of privacy.

In it, I wrote about Gwen Stefani/No Doubt legal case where she allowed her likeness to be used for one thing but not another.

With the rise of computational power, we’re rapidly coming to a point where we don’t need an actual actor or singer but merely their likeness to create art. And that will open up a whole new world of possibilities, both for good and bad. – Logan

Right now, a major part of the whole writer/actor’s strike is the fear that their likeness will be used by a studio for, potentially, eternity.

Watched one lawyer talk about it, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t angry and jealous – because the focus of my entire practice was going to be about the intersection of the rights of publicity and privacy.

I knew a decade ago that this current AI crisis was coming and I wanted to be at the forefront of it all.

Her: Holy shit, you were ahead of the curve, Logan!
Me: Yeah, by over a decade. I’m gonna be honest with you, I threw myself a pity party last week thinking that coulda been me.

That fucking cancer took almost everything from Alison and me.

12 years of work, poof. Gone.

I’m still a lawyer but I’m not…that lawyer anymore.

I secretly used pictures of Alison throughout my lecture.

But Alison and I were dealt our shitty cards and we had no other choice but to play them.

After all, that’s what Alison did. Felt I had to respect her sacrifices and do the same.

I just said that the fucking cancer took almost everything.

Almost because I still had the boy.

Somehow, through all my chemicals and madness, I sobered up enough to remember him and how much he meant to Alison, and me.

Knew I had to make a home for him with me, however incomplete and inelegant that was.

That kid saved me and, together, we made this sad place – which was full of some seriously unspeakable and fucked-up things – a happy(ish) home for both of us.

And I told my friend all this just to let her know that it’s possible.

It’s possible to overcome the blow, even when it seems so unlikely.

Me: I’m not making light of your situation. It’s gonna be shitty and hard. But I just want you to know that you can survive this. You can survive this blow. Because, somehow, I did.
Her: (silence then laughing) I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re making a lotta sense.
Me: (laughing) I’m as surprised as you are. (pause) Listen, X, it’s done. That place isn’t your home, not anymore. But here, you matter to a lotta people. Me included.
Her: (sighing) OK, Logan. Lemme think about it.
Me: Do that. It’s time to come home.


Location: home, waiting for people to pick up things up
Mood: better
Music: I only wish my words could just convince myself (Spotify)
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All men are little boys…

…to the parents that love them

11 years ago, I went out with Alison to Jersey City for Alison’s grandmother’s 90th birthday.

I remember thinking that her grandmother was so lucky that she got to live 90 years.

Can’t tell you how much it upsets me that Alison lived so much less.

But, I suppose, that’s a conversation for another day.

I wrote about that day and I titled it: The hours drag but the years sprint away

Never realized just how true that statement was until I became a dad.

Seeing the kid every day, I don’t really notice how much he’s grown, day-by-day, but looking at pictures, I’m shocked how much he’s changed.

The fella that wrote The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe said something similar: Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes but, when we look back everything is different?

It’s so true.

Everything, and everyone, is so different now.

The kid finished school today.

It seems like we just started and it’s summer vacation already.

I (barely) remember taking him to preschool when he was just 18-months old and I gave him a rum-carrier as a bookbag.

Now, he’s a full-fledged kid with opinions – lots of them.

Me: How on earth do you not like 紅豆湯, kid? I loved that growing up.
Him: People like different things, papa.

Alison loved this kid so much the short time she was here with him. She woulda loved him to the moon and back if she could see him now.

As I do.

Met up with some a group of fathers from the school for some beer and tacos the other day.

I really only talked to two of them, but a solid eight people showed up. It was interesting finding out about their lives.

Me: You’re a lawyer? My condolences. (laughing) I’m one as well.
Him: What do you do?
Me: Drink, mostly. When I’m not raising the kid.

I could only stay out for about 90 minutes before I had to pick the kid up from a birthday party he was attending.

Still, it’s one of those things I think I’ll do again.

When the kid was really little, my brother sent me a song called Imaginary Tea that I wrote about before.

Thought of it again when I told the kid that he was done with school and that he was starting a whole new grade next year.

Him: Can you believe it?!
Me: (laughing) Not really, kid. Not really.

He loves this shirt and wears it *waaaay* too often – no idea why.

Suppose I’ll always think of him as a little boy, even when he’s not one any more.

Like I said in my last entry, I think I understand my dad now more than I ever have before.

After all, all men are little boys to the parents that love them.

Imaginary Tea

I love you more than you will ever know
I love you no matter what you do
I’m gonna hold you as long as you will let me
‘Cause you’re mine, I love you

I loved you before I heard ever heard your voice
Before I even knew your name
I loved you before I saw those pretty eyes
I loved you right away

So, take it slow
Before you know it, you’ll be old and grown
Just remember that I’m always here
Hands you can hold on to

I love you

Don’t worry what anybody else will say
Don’t hurry to break that precious heart
When you try to be like somebody else
Remember I love you the way you are

So, take it slow
Before you know it, you’re gonna be old and grown
Just remember that I’m always here
Hands you can hold on to

And I love you

So, let’s climb every tree
And drink imaginary tea
And speak a language only we can understand
And I will fight back the tears
As we fly through the years
And I’ll keep you as close as I can

I love you more than you will ever know
I love you no matter what you do
And I’m gonna hold you as long as you will let me
‘Cause you’re mine, I love you

Location: her place and my place
Mood: exhausted
Music: I love you more than you will ever know (Spotify)
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Oh, how I wish you were here

Proud of ourselves

The Firecracker was busy for most of the following day but we met up for a walk to the pier near my pad when she was free.

There was a salsa party going on so we had to fight our way through that to make it to the edge of the pier, but it was worth it.

Me: What are you thinking?
Her: These are the times where I think, I can’t believe that I live here.

This fella named Richard Ford once said, The more we see our parents fully, see them as the world does, the better our chances to see the world as it is.

The boy just got his first red stripe in BJJ, which is kinda a big deal – certainly to him, if nuthin else.

Him: LOOK, LOOK! (shows me) Are you proud of me?
Me: Of course. But that’s not as important as if you’re proud of yourself. Are you proud of yourself?
Him: (beaming) Yes!
Me: That’s the most important thing, kid. Do things that make yourself proud of yourself, not me or anyone else.

Finding that I miss my dad the most when I want to ask him things about me when I was the kid’s age.

I mean, my mom’s still around and she and I talk about these things but I wonder what my dad was thinking when I was the kid’s age and doing similar things.

Realize all the times that my dad was right – and wrong – about things. I so wish he was here to talk about it all.

If he was, I wish I could tell him that I understand now, so much more about him than I ever did.

Wish I could tell him that I loved him, still do, and always will.

I wonder if he’d be proud of me. Then again, I think I did the best I could with everything I was given.

In that sense, then, I’m proud of myself.

Still, I wish he was here.

Although, truthfully, I always wish the people I loved were here with me.

Him: You looked like this again (makes face). Were you thinking of mommy again?
Me: (smiling, shaking head) I always think of her, but at that moment, I was thinking of my papa.
Him: (hugs me) I’m sorry, daddy.
Me: Thanks, kid. You’re my faves.
Him: YOU’RE MY FAVES!
Me: (laughing, hoping that I’ll stay in his top 10 forever)

Location: getting a second free soda at a street party because the person wanted a pic of me
Mood: hollowed
Music: how I wish you were here (Spotify)
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My soul is lemonade

Make me write bad checks

Me: What makes a proctologist decide to be a proctologist? I mean they have to look at assholes all day.
Firecracker: (shrugging) I’m sure that you lawyers deal with just as many, if not more, assholes every day.
Me: Fair.

I find the Firecracker pretty funny, mainly with her earnestness in life.

Because the funniest things come from a place of honesty.

There’s something refreshing about having someone that is relentlessly upbeat and positive, especially considering my recent past.

In terms of the big three buckets of health, wealth, and relationships, relationships seem to be the one that my friends talk with me about the most.

With that said, I’m not the only one whose life seems on the upswing.

Ran into a friend of mine the other day who was with someone new. Afterward, she and I chatted about it.

Me: I didn’t realize you and [your ex] broke up. Was there any particular thing?
Her: (thinking) It was weird. I told him – straight-up – things like, “Could you let me know if you’re running late, “or “Could you drop me a line to make sure I got home OK?” Nothing. Ever.
Me: That’s weird.
Her: Yeah. Basically, that relationship was: “He knew what I wanted but he never did it.”
Me: Jesus Christ, can I relate to that…

Of course, for every person whose life is getting better, there’s gotta be at least one person whose life is getting worse.

Or two – see, two friends of mine just announced that they were divorcing each other. I didn’t wanna pry but it seemed that things mainly come down to issues in communication.

Have you ever actually read the story of the Little Mermaid? The original story is…dark. Waaaaay, dark.

Essentially, the mermaid saved this prince’s life but couldn’t speak so the prince thought some other chick saved his life and married her, and she died.

The end.

Think the loneliest people in the world are the ones that aren’t actually mute but can’t communicate.

I feel for them. After all, communication isn’t what you say, it’s what the other person hears.

Besides, what is life without someone to talk to?

Then again, some things might be best left unsaid.

Me: Can you do me a favour?
Her: Sure, what?
Me: Can you walk on my back? I’ve had a rough day at the gym.
Her: (laughs) Sure!
Me: (10 minutes later, groaning) OMG, hurt me, call me names, make me write bad checks!
Her: Umm… you…Mad Hatter!
Me: (laughing hysterically) MAD HATTER?!
Her: That’s all I could come up with! Now write me some bad checks!

I feel like I’m finally past my lemon days, maybe? That’s the hope, anywho.

So, here’s to some lemonade…

Location: day-drinking with her in an empty bar on 80th and Amsterdam
Mood: completely exhausted
Music: Everything’s just fine, I’ma be just fine (Spotify)
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Wanting a Bahn Mi

Been growing mushrooms

Her: I want a banh mi.
Me: I want to banh *you* right now.
Her: (laughs)

Was in the mood for Vietnamese the other day so the lady and I hit up the local joint.

I’d not eaten inside the place in years because of COVID so it was weird sitting inside at a table.

So weird what normalcy feels like these days.

We got a pork belly sandwich with two coffees. She wanted to treat so I agreed.

The coffee was great – I’ve always liked Cafe Du Monde’s Chicory Coffee, which is what some of my fave Vietnamese joints serve but it’s definitely an acquired taste.

This place had a whole wall of the stuff.

I shoulda taken a pic. Next time.

Me: God, that sandwich was so ridonk good.
Her: Do you want another one?
Me: I *want* another one but I won’t get another one. I’m 50. I gotta start trying to eat a little less.

Try, being the operative word here.

Been on a weird kick of growing my own mushrooms lately, for both health and food in general.

Mainly Lion’s Mane because (a) it has a consistency and look that’s pretty similar to lobster, which is wild, and (b) it’s been linked to good brain health, and oyster mushrooms.

As the kid gets older, I’m always thinking of ways to keep him and his brain protected.

To wit, the blue and pink oyster mushrooms are part of a science project that is both fascinating and delicious; the lion’s mane I’ve been growing myself from some I got at a local famer’s market near the gym.

The hope is that he just gets used to things in his life – like turmeric, mushrooms, and green tea – that are overall protective of his health.

Of course, he likes none of it now but the hope is that he will someday as he gets older.

Him: (makes a face) No. I don’t like it.
Me: Welp, you tried it and I appreciate that. You might like it in the future.
Him: If you say so….

Location: earlier today, chatting with my therapist at a white desk
Mood: hungry
Music: I was starving when I met you (Spotify)
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