When Life gives you Lemons... make Chocky Milk!!

Let's catch us all up, shall we?

About a week after I'd broken my arm, I got a call from a chemist saying that John had "fallen down and couldn't get up; Should they call him an ambulance??"

After trying very hard to not respond with 'Duh?', I said that would be fabulous and that I would meet John at the local hospital. The chemist was not able to supply any more information, and unsurprisingly I got to the hospital before the ambulance did. He was suffering weakness in his left side and was a bit confused and scared. The immediate thoughts were he'd had a stroke by his medical team and he was sent in for a scan.

The scan revealed a lesion in his brain that's been since diagnosed as advanced melanoma.

We've had surgery, radiation, and we're currently recovering while we wait to begin chemotherapy.

We're not in the way of posting intimate details about ourselves on social sites, but I have asked John if it was possible for me to write about what we've been experiencing lately... neither of us has ever focused on 'gloom and doom' aspects of everything, but let's face it? Funny is where you find it, and I can't deny that this journey has brought us some laughs. It's also brought fear, despair, and terrible thoughts to keep all of us awake at night. That having been typed? I think it's those moments when pointing your attention away from the obvious pink elephant in the living  room is when humor and conversation can really be appreciated for what it is.

If you can manage to laugh while you're experiencing something horrible in your life it can be viewed as your strong will.  If you can manage to make someone you care for more than yourself laugh during their horrible experience? If only for a moment you may have erased their fear, despair, and terrible thoughts that keep them awake. If you can manage to do this? You can also remind them that although terrible events have happened, when the fear of the unknown tries to take your mind hostage at night? that there IS still hope.. and that they are safe... and cared for... and not alone.

John has chided me for speaking in hallmark greeting card snippets.. he's rolled his eyes at Dr.'s when I ask questions them that maybe neither of us really wants the answers to.. and we've been making slow daily adjustments to accommodate our current 'life style'.

Something as little as a glass of chocolate milk can put a smile on your face. It's nice to not have to ask for it or whatevever other symbol a person can favor; That someone knows you well enough that they see it and think of you, make sure it's the way you like it, and that it just might be the first thing you see in your waking moments instead of pills, ointments, and other constant, frightening reminders of what challenges you face that day. Instead you see it and hopefully your first thought for the day is 'I am loved'. Shalom.

I Typed This With One Hand. Here's Why.

After an afternoon of a great lunch and friendly chat with a Turkish carpet salesman, I loaded myself and an area rug on the local bus, ready to cover up a space on our newly wooden floor because it's what you do after you realize the new wood floor makes the entire room appear monotonously wooden.
I will admit to being more than a bit overconfident in not changing the rolled up carpet from my right foot to my left foot when the door opened, and to guessing the distance from the bus to the sidewalk. When you don't see out of the lower parts of your visual spectrum you rely on memory rather than creep like a disabled person to the edge and peer nervously down contemplating how stupid you look to other passengers. Rather than appear that stupid, I trumped my own expectations entirely and spilled out onto the sidewalk looking less intelligent than I presumed I had the capacity to; I recovered nicely while explaining to the entertained-on-too-many-levels bogan couple behind me that:

A. 'I'm fine, no worries' and
B. 'no, unlike you I'm quite pleased your camera wasn't at the ready'

and while I was saying those things a completely embarrassed person utters to disperse the crowd?

C. my body shot a quick message to my brain.. 'arm broken, arm broken, call 911'

John, who was with me at the time but had walked to the front door (where all people who missed the opportunity to be my hero had also walked), saw my quick recovery and met me near a railing where I was smiling dimly and assuring people that it looked worse than it was and that indeed it was also spectactularly humorous; He got a confused look on my face when I whispered those three words every spouse never wants to hear:

"Call the police.","My arm's broken","Where were you?" Any of these would easily apply.

I was treated to exemplary service by the local ambulance; When they couldn't find a vein for the much requested painkillers, they did what they considered to be the next best thing, and let me tell you that from now on I won't believe anyone when they tell me nasal ingestion of liquid from a syringe is anywhere near the next best thing. It's clumsy; Although it did momentarily take away my embarrassment of falling in front of people, it only replaced it with a newfound embarrassment of having painkillers spray out of my nose when I exhaled. Of course I was reassured no one would speak of it, and I'd get a more traditional method and dose of painkillers upon arriving 'to hospital'; Drop the 'the', you're not in America, and only American's say they're 'going to THE hospital'. I was about to be excused from yet another American institution, one that would be a constant reminder to never injure myself on foreign soil again.

I'm going to type this as quickly as the doctor who sent me to xray would later exclaim as if it were a good thing; I was sent to xray with multiple fractures with no pill, shot, or even an acupuncturist needle inserted what so ever. I was told to man up, that five year old's had broken bones with less whining, and that my behavior was due to being previously 'spoiled by an overly-dependent-on-opiate medical system'.  I can laugh about it now, because I have a tremendous ability to block out horrible events from my memory: Ask me about my preteen years, I don't recall anything traumatic at all while I'm balled in the fetal position.

I will say it's partly my fault. It's my fault I don't revere doctors as the stereotype expects. What they say is not gospel, I do make suggestions, I'm exceptionally verbal, and I will inform anyone who deems fit that 'you, my friend, have severe likability issues'. I know I pushed all the right buttons, the nurses smiled and nodded in agreement, when the doctor left they both silently handed me what I presume to be painkillers behind his back and walked away. They worked; By the time the doctor came back with painkillers (yay! triple dose!), I was affable, apologetic and explained in my best Ferris Bueller that 'understanding is what makes it possible for people like me to tolerate someone like yourself'. He said I was incoherently babbling, but I'm quite sure I heard a concealed burst of laughter from the nurse who was signing my release papers. I was miserable for the next three days. I'm lucky, for I'm sure his misery went on long before mine began and has no foreseeable end in sight. I shall never speak of this again, that damn fetal position isn't comfortable at all anymore.

"It's not all about you" and other insightful insults.

It's been a long while since I wrote anything I've posted... Hell, maybe those last two words were unnecessary.. but? I've had an epiphany of sorts... or more like a conundrum..

Mr. Cobain probably summed up what I'm experiencing in two short lines..

"I think I'm dumb, but maybe I'm just happy."

My homelife is far from perfection, but it's perfect. I'm still in love and it's not boring, but it's hardly newsworthy. I can listen to an REM song such as 'Shiny Happy People' but I have never had the urge to write anything positive.  'You have to suffer to create' is the mantra of the wounded poet and I'm in no hurry to put myself in that position in order to be motivated;  at the same time happiness has got to be least entertaining form of entertainment and my attention span for it has never been long.

There are so many issues to sort through these days.. political, religious, and other important subjects and lately I've been noticing some cleverly placed distractions, and falling headfirst into them willingly.

"That sounds a bit devious." --  I'd thought this during an extended round of Candy Crush Saga..
Wait! Put on the brakes!

I've had an overwhelming desire to be underwhelmed lately. It's human nature when you have too many issues to ponder or to sort and sift through of what's important, what's trivial, and how you can just get back to business as usual.. or even less when you're giving your awareness a well deserved break. The most important part of 'telling a story' is to have a complete thought and the passion to express it and for the most part? I have been putting any kind of obstacle in my synapses to avoid having to think too hard in the first place. This is something I chastise people for regularly and passionately and if I heckle others for it then I completely despise myself for the loss I am for words lately, until I put it in perspective.

So what am I if I am worried about a bunch of nouns, but am at a loss for adjectives and can't bring myself to verb about them? Oh boy! I'm a loaf. I seem to have found a niche of complacency these days, I wouldn't necessarily call it boredom and 'peaceful easy feeling' isn't the soundtrack of what's going on upstairs in what seems to be the vacant space where my creative urges used to live. There are political issues I think I can still get blue in the face before I open my mouth to express my disdain but with the exception of a few distracting facebook posts I seem rather absent.. even to me.

Important expressions are for me usually based in torment and rage; I'd rather be hurling paint to the canvas in a whirl of color than precisely drawing a picture with words and the problem with advancing my technique is I become more critical of what I'm thinking before I even begin an attempt to turn it into words worth writing, let alone reading.

I believe I'm in the process of having an important life experience right now rather than feeling obligated to detangle events of my past or sort out my thoughts in a way that are humorous, profound, or even interesting to anyone including myself.

In summary?  "I think I'm dumb, but maybe I'm just happy" has never applied so completely.

As every event in life I never expected to experience? I am too caught up in this new endeavor to pick it apart, analyze it, or make sense of it... until I'm not feeling it anymore. That's a destination I'm in no rush to depart for. Ending a sentence with a preposition? That's just something a dumb guy does.

What Color is Santa? and more importantly.. does it matter??

If this guy showed up? I'd never want a white one again... Fox News Sucks!

You're Flavorful, and With Depth.. Similar to a Necco Wafer

Waking from a terrible nightmare that you overslept an important appointment has a silver lining, so long as you've woken from that terrible nightmare with plenty of time to not miss said appointment... I've been bouncing around America this Summer similar to either a man with no country or someone who has every idea that he is too far from home and is standing on a platform hoping he has all his p's and q's in order to board whatever it is that will not only take him to a different location but also probably a different dimension.

The most meaningful conversations I've indulged in the last three months have been with strangers I've met online who sometimes seem like rather entertaining commercials.. and then? I return to the same bland sitcom that's currently being featured in an unchangeable channel... a channel that's irritating to watch, impossible to change, and the sitcom? My early morning wandering mind has it compared to Head of the Class; You vaguely remember it being on but have no idea why  you remember watching it in the first place; It was either on before something that was more meaningful or filled a time slot that would have been completely empty without it, but enough about Howard Hessman. We can only hope that he's doing well somewhere, unlike Gabriel Kaplan, who's more than likely currently sweating a major loss in some poker joint in Atlantic City against a very bitter old woman over a Social Security Check. Fifteen minutes of fame indeed, Mr. Warhol...

After a while the sitcom analogy starts to manifest and make a bit more sense as it unfolds into either a euphemism or metaphor <who cares?> for whomever you've enjoyed or abhorred in your lifetime. Every time you stop and visit you expect either the same experience, are confused by a dream sequence ocassionally, and it's generally only the comfort of routine that sends you tuning in to the same location week after week, season after season, until the series has run it's course and either jumped a now rather infamous shark or passed on with somewhat more dignity into syndication bearing reruns on cable that are sometimes pleasant to briefly review. They're' familiar, and can sometimes give you a warm feeling, but after the poignant moment you realize you've seen, heard, and had this experience before, and embraced? Rather than being interested in what's new and fresh, you're reliving your memories rather than creating them.

When I was young enough to sit in a kiddy seat in between my parents in an old Galaxy 500, I had thought that the rays of light that reflected from the street lights, the stars, and even the moon weren't reflections, but were energy points propelling the car ahead. They would come to points and bend in the glass and it seemed they were pulling our vehicle as we'd pass to the next lights, which would then be replaced by the next points of light and would repeat until we were in motion, moving ahead towards our destination. This thought is now as absurd as having a kiddy seat that faces the windshield instead of facing your child toward the rear for obvious safety reasons, but at the time? It made perfect sense. I wish I still had more comforting though obscure thoughts to explain undiscovered things, or better yet? More undiscovered things to explain with my comforting, obscure thoughts would be refreshing as well.

Boredom at 3:30 a.m. has yielded a great snippet of a memory from the sitcom rerunning on the bland channel that is my life. I'm comforted by this obscure thought, and I can return to sleep, knowing I still have time to meet my appointment, and that I will be on the platform with all my p's and q's in order.

City State and Mind

I woke to the sound of seagulls.. and remembered that I arrived in New  Bedford yesterday, nearly evening time... When you tell people you're coming from Maine, it seems everyone assumes you're on the  border of Massachusetts, noone ever makes the leap to geography.. or realizes when you're THAT far north? It's an expedition of sorts, and one that gives you time to reflect on where you're at... spiritually and gps combined.
What was so fondly referred to as 'Brockton by the Sea' is a quaint early morning seaside town.. where the Dunkin Donuts opens at four a.m. (overjoyed) and though the historic neighborhood is set on a hill with cobblestone walks it doesn't take both eyes to realize how close the ocean is... your other senses do it for you... I had the greatest summer here, pre John of course... Since John? For the last two years it's been perpetually summer the entire time, or as I've come to know the seasons? Summer, Nearing the End of Southern hemisphere Summer, Pre Northern Hemisphere Summer, and Summer... but that story is for another time, and I don't need to be pelted by envy rocks.... Yay Summer!! All continuous 50 months of it!

I'm here with two great friends, and left two great friends to come.. It's been a trial of sorts to convey the message that I'm miserable when I'm not in Sydney... and not to down the good ole U. Ess. of Aye, but I have a home... elsewhere.. Right now? I'm in between being home and a government that with all it's good intentions, is still outdated when it comes to the notion of same sex marriage.. with patience that will change. Until then? Well, I'm a grumpy creative sort who says stupid insensitive things at times in regards to my locations, and my sarcastic  wit automatically jumps to humorous observations much to the dismay of the people who've graciously offered me lodging while I wait for my visa to refresh.. I apologize immensely at times, but I can't help but fill my idle time and mind pointing out not flaws, but what I consider geographical quirks.. Not that Australia is any better a corner of the world than anywhere else but for the fact that my greatest love is there in our home, and I feel like a nomad here now. In short my house keys don't work anywhere near here, my kitchen is so far away I can't remember how much I hate my oven, and the only person who isn't insulted by what i consider clever observation isn't here to tell me to ease off or argue what is and is not in bad taste when chatting to locals about their neighborhoods.

I miss arguing without consequence with someone who may walk away when we disagree, but can't only walk away to a different room in our flat and has the intuition to know that yes, I say hurtful things on a regular basis, but that's what makes being able to mentally block me out at times not only necessary but enjoyable since the alternative... Well? In marriage there is no alternative.. For better or worse? Yes, and guess what? My sarcastic borderline Asperger Syndrome insensitve comments are my 'worse'...

I jumped out of my lead singers car at South Station in Boston and had an immediate adrenaline rush to  be in the financial district once again.. When you work for a printing company with twelve  Boston locations and you're the idiot who volunteers as much overtime at any location you're going to get very familiar with Boston, and in ten years with the best company I've every worked for, I know alleys that aren't filled with icky people but hidden dunkin donuts grottos, shortcuts that can keep you indoors from the swan boats to Rowes Wharf if it's raining.. and I'm also privy to being an ass when I'm accosted by someone asking me for... well? Anything...

When I'm traveling with one bag and a guitar, do you honestly think I'm going to put one of them down to scrounge for change or a cigarette for what appears to be exact replicas of the urchin who asked me every time I venture outdoors in Boston to go to work? I may resemble a tourist or sorts, but I'm a tourist everywhere, and the more I get around the more I observe the hustle of the city. I hope I never become so desensitized that I'm not compassionate, but also smart enough to spot a hustle from 100 yards. I'm a socialist because I don't understand the alternative, I'm an atheist because I don't have enough data or faith to consider structured religion, and when suspicious of ulterior motives and manipulation I get downright mouthy and indignent. In short if I feel I'm being manipulated? The claws come out.
It's a balance of doing the right thing for the sake of doing the right thing combined with my refusal to not smile as much as I like to; if smiles are considered weakness, well then? I'm completely prepared to prove otherwise, and to do it while smiling...this however does not make me a 'mark'.. it makes be a positive guy.

Happiness is a choice, not a sign of ignorance. I'm aware of the state of the world, it's surrounding and inhabitants, and I choose to be optimistic (in real life), and I'm a guy who likes to smile. My parade doesn't get rained on, because you know? I like to play in puddles...

It's been a bit since I've typed a thought or two here, so this may seem a bit unfocused, but in an optimistic sarcastic way I crossed back into Boston and remembered that my sarcasm isn't meant to be cruel or even understood. I'm in a simple way always trying to view situations and people from more than one angle, while in the process amusing my brain at the expense of others. It's what makes me smile before, during and after I tell someone to fuck off... Everything sounds better when you smile. Shalom, and Hello Massachusetts. It's good to be home... Can I leave now??

Either I'm Not Talented Or Some Things AREN'T That Funny.

I've spent the better part of this week working on outlines and hypothetical plot lines in the course of making a time in my life humorous, and in doing so had a revelation of sorts. Some things no matter how they play in your head as amusing simply can't be conveyed without revealing that they're simply not funny at all. Some of the posts I've typed into here have been knee jerk reactions or impulsive thoughts that practically type themselves, fall into place, and at very least can make me laugh in retrospect; What I found while opening 'this can of worms' is that it's impossible to find anything humorous that doesn't reek of utter depression or at very least isn't at the expense of humanity and the real people who can sometime's be forgotten or swallowed up by the world.

Time after time and more so VERY recently I've received news of someone who was either present during this time or is being affected by not so much the 'Recyclable Industry'.   I was referring to aluminum but in light of current events seems that aluminum IS recyclable, but for one reason or another? Some people aren't afforded that luxury and can't be redeemed for even a nickel in societies standards. It's been years since I've either picked myself up or been picked up and evolved beyond what I can now consider a dark period in my life that I had chosen to shed some light on. To hear that people who were once walking among us in those cold, unforgiving elements surrounded by even colder people have passed away is a sad state IN the world. To hear that people who were once walking with me are STILL struggling out there to me seems a bit more sad. That they're not only still there but are remaining optimistic in a world where it becomes more and more obvious everyday that they're either considered 'less than' or not even considered as people should be seen as a challenge that any person should ponder.

 'What would I do if it were painfully obvious that I've been forgotten?' or when the very real idea that if you suddenly 'Fell off the face of the earth either no one would notice or you'd be doing society as a whole a favor' isn't a funny proposition, it's a sad commentary on the state of not only an area, a community, or a country, but to civilization.

In many social internet formats the idea is proposed that we can cast our emotions onto animals be they sheltered or in need and much is done is the way of protecting these harmless creatures who've done no wrong other than being born into poor caregivers, poor living situations, or have been for one reason or another cast aside. That it's easier to lament animals who've done no wrong is understandable but it does NOT provide you with an excuse to not care about people who have also been born or cast into the same conditions.  Before you make the excuse that people are smarter than animals, I will have to agree with you. People are smarter than animals and with that comes the sometimes overwhelming awareness of not only their situations, but also having to acknowledge how they are perceived by other people.

Animals, unless they are photographed and have sympathetic captions conveniently Photo Shopped onto their pictures constructed to humanize them have an advantage over people who are consistently dehumanized by themselves and others who are quick to blame 'lost people' for their disadvantages.

To be aware that the premise 'you're situation is poor by your own design' is proper; It's an important life lesson to take responsibility for your actions. To know this and to recover without the help of anyone but yourself is an impossible thing to ask of even the most well adjusted and successful human being. When you're expecting anyone to help themselves out of any position you yourself have never experienced, take some time to think of what you can't accomplish alone in your meaningful life. Everyone counts on other's for small insignificant reasons that are hardly pondered and also to  the very existence of happiness in their life regardless of possessions and fortune. No matter what your station in life, it's not uncommon to take your wealth and status for granted, but also your support system that reassures you that you are safe in a VERY uncertain world.

Imagine for a second not having that reassurance to rely on a daily basis, or in some cases moments as required daily on an as needed basis.  Know that no matter what you have to offer to the world,  without a support system to regularly acknowledge your ability to contribute to society and to bolster any form of self esteem you think you have you'd probably fare even less successfully than people who've had to learn to accept life with none of this. No one deserves no one.