I would actually classify all four of those posters as somewhere in the middle.
Regardless, I can only speak for myself. I vote because generations of Americans have given their lives for that right. It is really our only voice in this government. It may seem like nothing, and in many ways it is, but I will always do so. I just won't cast my vote for the lesser evil anymore.
Suffering from a bit of the old writer’s block today, but the as they say, ‘the secret to writing is writing...’ So here goes nuttin’:
Friday was my cat’s birthday. I didn’t know that going in, but I popped open facebook which alerted me. My wife set up a page or whatever for the cat, which tells you something about my wife’s personality. Like a weirdo, I sang ‘happy birthday’ to my cat like my wife used to do. The cat looked at me like, ‘I don’t know what the F you’re doing right now, but I do know that there’s zero tuna in front of me.’ Unfortunately for the birthday cat, I had made an appointment for her to get some shots at the vet. The cat enjoyed the drive over, looking out the window at all the cars and people. I kept thinking that those chicks in Cleveland must have had the same reaction when they escaped their captor. I wonder if he had any cats and did he sing to them.
I’m still trying to find that get-up-and-go feeling I used to get on Friday nights. It seems to be creeping in a little, but I’m far from where I’m capable of being. I’ve been texting with a sort of friend I hadn’t seen for probably 25 years. She’s nice and a bit on the shy side. I saw on fb that her boyfriend of many, many years had passed away recently and I felt compelled to reach out to her, to lend an ear if needed. For me, it’s been helpful to talk to people who have been in my situation where widow hood lands like a thump at an age when it’s not supposed to happen. So, I told her as much and we’ve been texting ever since and spoke on the phone a few times.
She left for a long planned trip just as I returned from my trip, so we weren’t able to meet up the last month. She went to scatter some of her boyfriend’s ashes half-way around the world. It was supposed to be a romantic getaway but that all changed for obvious reasons. Just too sad.
We used to go to the same night club to see bands and eventually struck up a friendship. But we lost touch due to other priorities and time. And the club was torn down years ago.
After some John Hughes-like posturing, we finally met up at her house on Friday night. She and her boyfriend used to go to Angel games all the time, buying the cheap tickets then sneaking down to Field level. Not only do we have an appreciation for Bryan Ferry and The Style Council, but she’s also pretty wise about the Halos. She was kind enough to have the game on when I came over. Even had a couple rally monkeys draped over a corner of the screen.
There was about three minutes of awkwardness once I got in the house, but it all went away as she pounded her cabernet and cigarettes and I drank up my coke zero. Her place had a real lived in look: plants everywhere, mismatched furniture that becomes almost matching over time, DVDs neatly displayed in the living room, pictures and sea shells all over the place. I sat on the couch and felt like I was in a scene from ‘Pulp Fiction’ that ended up on the cutting room floor. If anyone needed a shot of adrenaline, this would be a good place for it. Like me, she had a kind of mini-shrine set-up for her betrothed.
We watched the game and made small talk, chatting about bands, music, the Angels, and briefly, our loved ones who were the reason I was with someone I never expected to see ever again. To think, two people had to pass away to make this happen. I’ll tell you what...a year ago I woulda thought this behaviour to be bat feces crazy. Who the hell goes to someone’s home that they previously had pretty much no contact with? Now, I don’t care. I take chances as a survival technique; need to stay busy. I’m not talking about robbing a bank or bungee jumping. Rather, I have to get out there and meet people and get off the beaten path a little. Hence the Tarantino movie playing out before me.
I was hungry but my friend was more than happy to keep working on her bottle of wine. I remember that feeling when you’ve passed the point of no return and just want another glass of whatever. So, I told her I needed to chow and she was welcome to join me, or not. But I had to eat.
We ended up at a Coco’s since the place we meant to go to was closed. There was one other couple in there and I thought, ‘this is where I am in life. Friday night in an empty Coco’s.’ It’s not a bad thing, just really not what I expected. On this board’s movie/tv viewing thread, we talked a little about the movie ‘Thief.’ I was reminded of a scene in the movie where James Caan’s character and the lady he’s with sit in an empty diner and he just lays out his cards; it’s all honesty and no b.s. I ordered the French dip sandwich. I was honestly starving. She had a cabernet and the Greek salad. She liked both. When she laughed you could here years of cigarette smoke coming through. Dusty and hearty.
Saturday was pretty good. Got to the gym and made small talk with a couple of the front desk folk. They’re quite a bit younger than me but they seem genuinely interested in what I have to say. Suckers. The girl (I say girl because she looks about 19) working the juice bar rolled her eyes when the Kinks’ ‘Come Dancing’ played on the satellite radio. ‘We need to turn this station,’ she said, I told her she was nuts and that the Kinks were my first concert. Then, she went in for the kill: “I love how older always tell you about their first concert.†WTF?! I gently informed her that we didn’t have youtube coming up so whatever we liked or were interested in, we had to earn our knowledge and experience with it. It wasn’t handed to us. And I had to walk three miles to school in the snow, and...
After the gym I picked up some groceries so I could make quiche for Mothers Day. Yes, quiche. Never thought I’d be doing a quiche, but with today being Mothers Day, I thought a nice lil’ bacon and cheese quiche would do just the trick for my mom and my mother-in-law. I had invited them over for a brunch and didn’t want to juggle a bunch of stuff in the kitchen. My original plan of pop tarts and donuts would not be appreciated. With my mother-in-law’s only other child living out of state I didn’t want her to be alone today. She hadn’t been in the house since my wife passed and she broke down right after she walked in the door. It was really sad and she kept her sunglasses on as my mom and I carried on, trying not to make a big deal of it. She’s a strong woman so I think the sign of weakness was hard for her. Fortunately, the quiche turned out very nicely. And her son facetime’d her so that made her happy. As you might imagine, I was glad for this part of the day to be over.
Afterward, I went down to the beach and biked around. One thing about the first real hot weekend of the pre-Summer season, you see lots of pasty skin exploiting some very regrettable tattoo decisions.
The beach area was packed. This was a good dry run for Summer. I had to remember which lanes are the best and what short cuts come in handy. The lifted trucks and loud Harley’s were in full affect today. One thing about lifted truck drivers: When the driver looks for a parking space they are completely ignorant that there are other cars behind them. The trucks hover down Balboa Blvd. like the Border Patrol looking for illegals in the bush. Cruising along at 3mph thinking a parking space is going to jump up and shout ‘here I am!’ at 1pm on a Sunday when it’s 95 Dees-grees in Fontana.
I’m spoiled. I’ve got a parking space with my name on it and a bike ready for my fat ass to cruise on. And since the quiche wasn’t a disaster, I didn’t spend the afternoon on the toilet. Small victories.
My diet’s gone to hell this weekend. French Dip on Friday, cheeseburger and fries on Saturday, pizza and a donut today.
I’ve got the first season episode of Miami Vice called “Heart of Darkness†on right now as I right this. Crockett did not eat pizza and burgers while shooting Vice. But he smoked pretty darn well. A few minutes ago, there was a scene where he’s on his boat toking away. And he flicks the butt into the harbor. I don’t think that would be allowed on network tv today. This episode's almost finished; there’s a wrap-up scene in a bar. George Benson’s ‘Masquerade’ is playing. It’s one of those moments where I wish I could just disappear into the tv. For now, Coco’s will have to do.
Guys like Jerome are incredibly valuable. He came in and threw 6 innings in relief in that debacle with Oakland and then switches to a SP and throws a gem.
Yeah, not everything but we need to handle the criminality of it much, much differently.
Our prisons our overwhelmed and actual violent criminals are released early just so we can fit more druggies in jail.
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