Tag: tiny wisdom

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Still Running

Humans survived because we ran

With nods to 0utre who cheered me up yesterday while I was hanging out in Stressville.

Been working out like mad but gaining weight!

The late night eating and drinking. I was out and about again tonight only briefly because I’m sick.

Just as well, I gotta cut all that out.

My roomie (ah, betcha didn’t know I had one) said Harvard has this new theory why humans are on top of the food chain:

Humans survived, not because they are smarter than other animals, but because we can run longer than any animal. No animal, not even horses or dogs, can run the distances a man can run when put to task.

Marathon Marathons.

We hunted until the animals just gave up.

We survived because we ran. It is in our nature.

Until I’m breathless and weak, I’m running. Towards what?

No idea.

But, dammit, I’m running.

Location: -30, stumbling home
Mood: stressed
Music: She is raging and the storm blows up in her eyes
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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

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personal

Pandora

What was the last thing in Pandora’s Box?


They opened a new Amish school house in Pennsylvania the other day.

Hopeful is good.

I think.

Have you ever actually read about Pandora’s box? Yes, she unleashed all of life’s misery but did you know that Hope was the final thing in the box? It was also the only thing Pandora managed to trap.

Eventually, Hope escaped.

There are two ways to look at this, either:

  • Hope is the one thing that counteracts all the crap life throws your way; OR
  • Hope is the worst of all evils because when you’re let down, well…I’m sure you’ve been let down before so, you know.

Always thought it was the former. In my late nights, I’m not sure. I think it may be the latter.

I would like it to be the former, but, then again, I would like a lot of things.

Location: @3:30, crossing the 59th St. Bridge
Mood: sad
Music: read my mind love What a tale my thoughts would tell

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personal

Mr. Fix-it

It’s easier to start new things than try to replace old things

My tub faucet sprung a leak the other day so I decided it was time to fix it.

I’m always trying to fix things in my life.

My car, my finances, my computer, my body, my love life – the list goes on. I decided just the other day to repair my relationship with my lower abs. We’ve kept in touch but I’ve just not seen them in six months.

Spent almost all of last summer trying to fix my hellish relationship with my ex.

As an aside, it would have been nice if she told me that it was not only broken but that she had already given speaking lines to three other drivers (whom I don’t think have seen any of their abs in decades, one word: flexbelt; of course, it’s not just about looks, to their credit they’re also dull as rock soup).

Sorry, just snarky because I’ve got a drip that’s driving me mad.

Point is, fixing is different than building. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to build. This spring I’m building things with old friends and new.

But for now, oh man, where’s that #@$@#$ wrench?

Location: @2:30PM yesterday, on Broadwayasd downing a burger
Mood: insanely busy
Music: Sunlight on my face I wake up and yeah, I’m alive

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Baggage

Dating is all about finding someone with matching baggage

My hands are shaking again.

The only drug that I know that works to knock me out causes a rare but nasty side effect called tardive dyskinesia, which basically results in a funny twitch or tic in the face. It’s permanent, no cure. Yeah, like I need to be any weirder.

Ergo, I avoid taking it until I truly need to catch up on sleep. On a related note, as I’ve gotten older, I do more and more odd tics with my hands. Basically, I talk a lot with my hands.

Must look ridiculous on my mobile.

My friends make fun of me. I think they think I do it to be dramatic. Maybe I do, a little. But you ever jump up and down when you’re a kid because you’re so excited about something? Nervous energy. That’s me. My hands tingle and I can’t keep them still. Like an itch. Now that I drink, it’s far more pronounced.

So I’m on day two of little sleep. I suppose tomorrow I’ll have to give in because I’m seeing the girl with the blue jean eyes again.

A good friend told me that the secret to relationships is to find someone with baggage that matches yours. So true. She spent 25+ years being her; I spent 30+ years being me. It’s hard to bang two fully formed adults together to something homogeneous. But I guess people do it all the time.

I don’t know how but they do.

There’s a lot going against us, me and BJ eyes. She’s got her baggage; I’ve got mine. But I told her that I would honest with her if she would do the same for me.

I’ll take honesty and those eyes any day of the week.

Now if I could only get some @#$@# sleep…

Location: my living room, pacing
Mood: awake
Music: every time I try to make it right it all comes down on me
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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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Friends

Your friends bring out different parts of you

Went to see my college friends again last night. We don’t get together as often as, I think, we would like.

Life gets in the way.

Heard once that JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis and a third writer were all close friends and when the third writer died (Charles Williams?), CS Lewis said something along the lines of “When he died, I thought, ‘at least I’ll have more of JRR, but in fact I had less,'” meaning that, when the third friend died, CS Lewis found that the third friend brought out things in Tolkien that CS couldn’t.

In any case, I see my friends individually but when we all get together, it’s a different dynamic. I see things in my friends’ faces and hear voices from over a decade ago.

And it’s good seeing my old friends again.

I haven’t seen me in years.

Location: @3AM, taking the train home
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Good times, bad times, give me some of that

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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

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personal

Expanding

Take up your space in the world

Reaction of two people whose personal space ar...
Reaction of two people whose personal space are in conflict. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Personal space runs from 18″ to four feet from your body to another person.

In NYC, that number is probably two feet from you body. That would mean that your personal space is a 13 square-foot circle around you.

So in the past number of weeks, I’ve learned that three of my friends are involved in “secret” relationships, not with each other, where people don’t know that they’re involved. Two are women, one is a man.

Why would any self-respecting person want to be with something that isn’t proud to say, Yeah she’s with me?

That, and premium ice cubes, is just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard of.

  • I say, you’re entitled to your 13 square-foot circle.
  • I say, take up your damn space in the world – in fact take up more.
  • I say, if you don’t think you deserve it, you don’t.

Me? I’m expanding.

Location: Home sweet home.
Mood: grumpy
Music: I’m thrown and overblown with bliss.

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Burning boats

You can’t go back

Ooooh, my aching head.

One would think that, with the sheer quantity of alcohol I ingested last night, I would have slept like death.

One would be mistaken.

I saw a ton of friends last night and it was hella fun. It was my first new year’s eve as a single guy, I think ever in my adult life. Kinda weird. And as the night wore on, it got progressively weirder.

  • I got slapped at least once but it was totally worth it (not (exactly) what you think)
  • Almost dis-robed a very cool girl I met last night (totally by accident) – she did not look pleased but I hope to see her again anyway
  • Got hit on by a friend (that was weird)
  • Regretted not hitting on her back (that was weirder)

Alexander the Great used to burn his boats once his army landed somewhere so that they had no choice but either fight and win or die in a foreign land.

In 2006, I made my choices and burned my boats.

2007 then.

Let’s go, let’s go…
Location: @3AM-ish, stumbling home on Broadway
Mood: tired
Music: Hast Du etwas Zeit fuer mich?

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