Tag: tiny wisdom

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personal

More Cowboys

Me on a toy

 

Me: Hey, step outside with me for a sec.
Him: Sure. What’s up?
Me: Just wanted to say thanks. When I was going through my breakup, thoughta what you told me about your divorce. How you came back one day to find an empty house. Was nice knowing that you survived the blow.
Him: (grinning) Glad I could help.
Me: Y’know, actually hoped it was you she was seeing behind my back. (laughing) Least you’re a decent fella, a successful lawyer and not half-bad looking.
Him: (laughing) Com’on, I think our ladies’re waiting.

Now, where were we?

A while back, wrote about cowboys. Seems every seven years, you lose more than half of your friends. The person you think of as your best friend only has a 30% chance of staying in that role.

One guy that made the cut was my buddy Steel; he got hitched in Central Park this past weekend. Appetizers included whole lobsters. That was the appetizer. Need to get invited to more weddings like that.

Steel’s like all of my good friends. Never really see them; we don’t interact much. But he knows that I’m onea the few people in the world he can always count on and vice versa. We’re different races but the same people.

That’s one of the main things about the Jaycee Dugard case makes me ill. Cause in addition to all of the sick things she had to go through – and they were seriously sick – she didn’t have her people. She didn’t have a family or friends. Real ones, I mean. What a terribly lonely way to go through life. Couldn’t sleep causa it.

Yet another reason, think I’m blessed – our dumb luck.

Speaking of blessed, thanks for the concern but said I was coming back, didn’t I?

If you read me, gotta think that there’s a good chance you’re onea my people too, yeah? Let’s face it, this is hardly an interesting blog and I’m not a scantily clad chick. But I suppose you read cause something I say makes sense to you.

Ergo, we gotta stick together.

Clumsy, geeky, optimistic dreamers’re rarer than y’might think in this world.

Lobster in Central Park!
Steel getting married

Location: 16:00 yest, my kitchen floor, scrubbing
Mood: concerned
Music: Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song

Categories
dating personal

Gone Fisher King (but coming back)

If only we could just pay the bill and go home

A red door from the East Village

 

You ever kinda just space out while walking or driving and just magically end up on your doorstep? Hold that thought.

There’s this great line from The Fisher King where the lead, who’s destroyed a buncha people’s lives, wails out, “If there were some way I could just pay the fine and go home.”

It’s never that easy. Did you ever complete that sentence, The purpose of life is?

My answer I actually told you once a while ago, except, I didn’t tell you. It was my dating philosophy: Leave people better off having met you. Note that I never said “women.”

Did it to try and help the world out; turns out it helped me out.

Thought I’d take this time to tell you some things, because I still get the occasional email asking.

  • The PCD is doing very well; we chat every so often. She’s one of my people, even though we never see each other. She’s also Beatrix from an old entry and you can read up on her love life here.
  • And the HEI is doing well too; she’s packed up and gone to see about a boy and a life out west. She drops me a line here and there.
  • Caligirl got married and that’s a story in itself.
  • Elle’s finding her way through the big city and finding herself along the way.
  • The Italian Lawyer, GES, the writer, human resources girl, and others I run into from time-to-time.
  • It was the SX’s birthday recently but she’s MIA. She, like most of them’ve left my Venn Diagram. Suppose that’s probably for the best.

Finally, there’s Heartgirl. She’s asked that I not write about her so I don’t but I think it’d be amiss if I didn’t. Because I’ve set her apart.

Spent the last hour trying to figure out how to tell you about her. I’ve decided that she’s my receipt.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still hustling for scratch, several items on my body are broken and/or bruised. Lots of fail.

But I think she’s my cashed check from Life saying, OK, you did some horrible, _____ things in your life. And I still promise you nuthin but pain. But all of that stuff you did? For that, we’re square. You’ve paid your fine…and you can go home.

It’s been almost exactly three years – August 17, 2006 – since I left who I was to figure out who I wanted to be; three years since my feet were pointed home.

Tonight, while talking to her, looked up to realize that I was almost there.

Was thinking that this was gonna be my last entry. Was gonna put down: Gone Fish’n and be off.

But this blog helped me find my way. So even if there’s only one person that still reads me, wanna say “Thanks” for taking the time. (Mom, if it’s you, “rum” is what kids call “apple juice”).

Gonna take next week off while I try and figure out a few things and spend some time with Heartgirl. But I’ll be back Sept 1st round midnight, like always.

See you then, yeah?

Categories
personal

My three islands

59th Street Bridge from the tram

 

Interviewer: Rampage, where do you see yourself in 2 years?,
Rampage: Well, right now I’m 23, so in two years, I see myself, 25.

Bryson met up with me to take some pics for him on the tram. Was cloudy and overcast but I took them anyway. Was born on the island east of this bridge. Live on the island west of it. Yet, I’ve never taken the tram to the island between them until today.

Afterward, we had lunch at Johnny Rockets. Never been there either. Thought of my grandma; cause you always think there’ll be time enough to do things. Then one day, you find you’ve done run outta time.

He’s having a kid. His wife, a doctor, agreed to let him teach her how to roll. Should mention that’s he one of the best architects in his field and part of the teams in charge of giving the tram a facelift.

Me: Look at us, we’re two old, ivy-league educated, white-collar guys. I know why I do it, why do you do it?
Him: It’s just like running or something. It’s not about beating the other guy, it’s about beating yourself. (Fighting in the ring’s) different than brawling; to paraphrase Rampage Jackson, if you get into a fight with someone in a club, eventually, someone’s gonna have their feelings hurt.

Those three lives I told y’about. We all got them. Realized 90 minutes ago, that I’ve spent 90% of my life on these two islands, doing two very different things, living two very different lives.

———-

Before his rematch against Chuck Liddell:

Interviewer: Chuck said in his pre-fight interview it’s gonna be a first round knockout. What do you have to say about that?

Rampage: If he plans on getting knocked out in the first round that’s his business.

Location: 14:00 yest, taking these pics
Mood: geeky
Music: Slow down, you move too fast
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personal

It’s personal

It’s just business was supposed to mean exactly the opposite of what it means

A metro station in Washington DC

 

Me: Man, it’s like 2Pac said, That’s just the way it is.
Heartgirl: But Logan, in the original song, he says, But don’t you believe them.

Told Koreanjohnny to read The Godfather cause he’s young enough and old enough to appreciate it. Read the book before I saw the movie so I looked at it differently.

While I loved the movie, Coppola made two changes to the story that always bothered me. The first one is that line everyone tells you right before they screw you at work or business or something: “It’s not personal, it’s business.”

But the truth of the line never made it to the movie; it happens in a conversation between Mike and his brother, Tom, who says that Mike’s taking it all too personally:

Tom, don’t let anybody kid you. It’s all personal, every bit of business. Every piece of s__t every man has to eat every day of his life is personal. They call it business. OK. But it’s personal as hell. You know where I learned that from? The Don. My old man. The Godfather. If a bolt of lightning hit a friend of his the old man would take it personal. He took my going into the Marines personal. That’s what makes him great. The Great Don. He takes everything personal Like God. He knows every feather that falls from the tail of a sparrow or however the hell it goes? Right? And you know something? Accidents don’t happen to people who take accidents as a personal insult.

Just over a year ago, I told you that we live in a Cliff’s Notes society – where we think we know something, but we don’t know the whole thing.

People always make excuses for screwing others over. But I like that last line: Accidents don’t happen to people who take accidents as a personal insult.

If they tell you otherwise, don’t you believe them, don’t let’s anybody kid you.

Man, it’s always personal to someone. That’s the truth of it.

Me: You’re right. I forgot.

Location: a large blue bed
Mood: awake
Music: Belief Makes things true Things like you

Categories
personal

My corner in and of the world

Happy Birthday!

 

No lie, this video chokes me up.

Sometimessome and I both agree that it’s often the foreigners, the outcasts, that love this country the most. I’ve been to other countries and young people that rant about the state and the past of this joint have got to travel somewhere and see how lucky we are here.

A dude named Anthony Walton once said that, America’s greatest strength, and its greatest weakness, is our belief in second chances, our belief that we can always start over, that things can be made better.

This country has treated my family well. Not by handouts (we took none) but by chances. We only ever wanted the chance. I’ve made so many horribly stupid, stupid mistakes in my life. And each time, it’s like I get another ticket to ride. Quite something, this joint.

I’m always forgiving people their stupid mistakes. Cause I want so badly to be forgiven mine.

This place suits me just right.

It’s a fantasy. The hope that my better day around the corner is at a corner in Germany. Or China. Elsewhere. Still, this is home.

Yeah, I wanna spend some time elsewhere. But I can’t imagine getting old anywhere else.

Happy Birthday.

Location: 15 mins ago, leaving a gin mill
Mood: sotted
Music: Let them say of me, I was one who believed

Categories
personal

Logan’s 35

The lies you tell yourself

I submit that your misery is the sum of the lies you tell yourself:

  • I’m not good at languages, that’s why I don’t learn Italian.
  • I need a drink to talk to her.
  • I’m too old to start something like that.

My favorite: I’m not that type of guy/gal.

That’s the stupidest one of all. Following that logic: I’m not the type of guy that drives because I’ve never driven before.

It’s all horse___, you know? The lies you tell yourself. It’s all horse____.

Put another way: you’re not the person you know you could be, causa the lies you tell yourself.

I’m pensive. Turning 35 today. Halfway to getting my ticket punched, and still waiting for my real life to begin. Been thinking, maybe it begins when you stop lying to yourself. When you take that nasty truth, bite into it and swallow. Then go in for seconds.

Wish I did it a lot earlier myself. Then again, wish I bought Google at 300 bucks, kissed Stella in 9th grade, and didn’t have my life’s savings stolen. But whaddya gonna do?

A pretty lady from a sun-kissed beach just dropped me a line and another pretty lady’s heading my way for a spell. Plus there’s the weekend. Hoping for some awesome to head my way.

Some awesome, and maybe another whole wheat donut, would be nice.

Now…wish me a happy birthday, all of you bastards that read me and never say anything.

Location: 13:00 yest, Harlem
Mood: excited
Music: Coming outta my cage and I’ve been doing just fine

Categories
personal

Grace and Mercy

Do you know the difference between Grace and Mercy?

Him: The fine is $2,000 a day for non-compliance.
Me: (coughing) You either gotta kill me and sell my body parts a nickel a shot, or we’ve gotta work something out.
Him: (laughing) We don’t have a department for that type of collection. (pause) I can give you two more days. Can you be in compliance by then?
Me: (nodding) Hell or high water.

Do y’know the difference between Grace and Mercy? They’re two sides of the same coin.

  • Grace is when you get the good things you don’t deserve.
  • Mercy is when you don’t get the bad things you do deserve.

Been posting less these days – cause I’ve never been into ranty posts. I did call my brother about two days ago, though. Guess something in my voice worried him. Or maybe mom told him about my shaking. Dunno.

Today I was running around all morning, having one unpleasant meeting after another, before I finally made it to my office.

And there sat my brother.

He dropped everything and took the 7AM flight outta Florida. I was in the hood, thought I’d see you, he joked. Then he looked down for a moment and asked, You ok?

Outside, my three employees were working, my partner was in her office, and I had clients waiting. I said it before, the words that’ll make a grown man cry are, I’m on my way. Just showing up’s even better.

But a boss weeping in his office doesn’t do anyone any good. So instead, I coughed, cleared my throat, frowned and nodded. He got it.

Later that night he and his friend Kathy had dinner with my folks, laughed, and sang about two American kids growing up in this heartland on the road home.

Today I got mercy from a total stranger and grace from my earliest memory.

Yes, I said honestly, I’m ok, now.

Location: 22:00 yest, Rego Park
Mood: hopeful
Music: life goes on Long after the thrill of livin is gone

Categories
personal

Mike

We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we think we know things

My friend Mike passed away; I just heard the news this weekend. Very sudden.

An older guy, he looked like he was 45. He had a six-pack! Paul and I joked all the time that he looked better than botha us. He was a student in my fencing class; 65 years old and still training hard.

I remember that when everything went down with me, so many people said, Well, the only way is up. Which is yet another one of those sayings that only has the air of truth but no real truth to it – dude, there’s always more room for down. Always.

Mike didn’t say that; he said: I’m an old man, I’ve seen a lotta things. You never know what Life will give you, but good or bad, you take it anyway.

We live in a Cliff’s Notes society where we know the punchlines, but never the whole saying:

  • Fools rush in (where angels fear tread)
  • Curiosity killed the cat, (and satisfaction brought him back)
  • Speak of the devil (and the devil appears)

Y’know the sayings: for whom the bell tolls and no man is an island? They come from a John Donne poem:

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend’s were.
Each man’s death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

Mike, you bastard, you made a room fulla grown men with pointy sticks and aggression issues cry. We’re diminished.

I hope when I go, I’m half the man you were.
Location: writing this with a glass of rum for Mike
Mood: grateful
Music: Well, if it rains, I don’t care Don’t make no difference to me
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personal

Australia

A Frog in a Well Knows Nothing of the Ocean

You ever hear of the saying, A Frog in a Well Knows Nothing of the Ocean?

This frog meets a turtle one day and the frog says to him, Dude, you gotta come check out my home in a well. It’s got it all: cool mud in the summer, protection from the wind in the winter, the whole nine.

The turtle checks it out and says to the frog, Man, have you ever been to the ocean? The water goes down deeper than a thousand of your wells. And you could swim forever and never see the land again if you didn’t wanna. And there are things of every color in the rainbow that you couldn’t imagine of in your dreams.

Y’only know your well, the turtle finished, but there are oceans you know nothing about.

Prior to 2001, I was the frog. Then I met this girlie…but that’s not really the point. Sometimes, I think I still am the frog. I told someone recently that I learned to ride a bike here. That kinda stuck with me. Anyway, remember how I’ve said, There’s no such thing as a line?

It’s true. Pretty much everyone I’ve mentioned in the past month or so, I’ve been asking, You know what we need to do? We need to go to Sydney, Australia. I’m actually interested when they say they’ve been there before. I spoke with one girl about traveling for hours the other night.

At some point, someone asks, But why Australia and why Sydney?

And I answer, truthfully, Australia because everyone’s got that cool accent. And Sydney – well, it just sounds pretty.

Doesn’t it though? We should go. It’s freaking cold here. And it’s not just the weather.

Location: 9:00 yest, driving crosstown
Mood: restless
Music: Break, eject, eject, eject, break, eject, eject, eject
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Categories
personal

Eponine

We are all we know

The subway’s never empty. Unless you’re an insomniac. Then they’re empty a hellva lot.

———-

Thought about some of the people I’ve met recently and in the not-so-distant past. For some strange reason, I also thought of a girl I dated once. It’s the fall.

Part of the reason I think I liked her was because she said that every person that ever went out with her treated her like crap (I’m weird like that). When she told me that, I thought of Eponine from Les Mis.

The book’s a little different from the musical. In the book, there’s this one scene where she’s tossed a stale piece of bread. Starving, she pounces on it like a crazed animal. The hard bread hurts her teeth but she says that she knows the bread is good because it’s hard.

See, Eponine has no concept that there’s such a thing as bread that’s not rotten and not hard. It’s all she knows.

Tried to treat the ex nicely – never did find out if she she thought I did. Random, right?

As for me, well, my friends think I’m lucky because so many people enter and exit my Venn Diagram.

I’m not sure. You see, it’s all I know…

Location: 20:30, getting caught in some rain in Bayside
Mood: exhausted
Music: through the clouds Memories come rushing up to meet me now