The rolling shitstorm that is this year keeps on going. Mostly bad shit, too. I won't even go into the news. I'm not even sure I know what's going on, the media is so corrupt.
The C word entered my own life and body for the first time after the endoscopy & colonoscopy festival. The doc says he got it all, but wants me back next year. There is no source found for the pain in my side. It's not from my guts. And you know the thing people say, that the prep is terrible? They're right.
Billy was here for it and the week afterward, bless his annoying ass. We're close enough again to get on each other's nerves. But then, it was stressful. Trying to have him here in this shoebox for a week, and all that entails, is enough. He's a grumpy old man now. I call him Goldilocks. And there's a weirdness for ya- not only is his hair growing back, it's turning red again. He's not taking anything to make this happen. My hair is going black & white, he's getting red hair back. Strange days.
We're on the death watch for Mare. She's stopped eating and drinking, and nonverbal. I hope it's peaceful. Can't believe it's actually happening.
My old bitty neighbor gave up the ghost 2 weeks ago. She died in her bed, on her terms. Not a bad way to go. I saw her about a month ago, she couldn't hear anything I said, and was that classic brown-yellow of kidney failure. It's very quiet around here now. Her niece has been cleaning things out a little at a time.
And still, with all that, there is great news. We're moving right along on the Herman bio movie. I've arranged the first interview locale, in NOLA, on 6/6. I have to come up with questions, as Andy's in tech hell with what to buy/use. There won't be second chances. This is a Best Shot/Only Shot deal. We're looking for other films the Childe was featured in as well. Today I fast forwarded thru "Vampire's Kiss" to see if the bit shot in the Magickal Childe was worth fussing over. It's not. However, we have a couple other documentaries that may require terms, and here's where $$$ starts leaking. We may have to go for a GoFundMe after all. Between the traveling Andy's going to have to do- having to fly whenever someone says they're available so not getting cheap seats, staying in motels, car rentals, taking people to lunch, it's all adding up to a sizeable budget needed. I'm trying to find the best deals possible, but damn things are expensive, even in the middle of nowhere.
And here is the first paste-up of the movie poster.
Andy will do a painting of the photo for the actual poster.
Tomorrow I'll be poring over Michael Lloyd's Bull of Heaven
To glean questions for the 6/6 interviewees- Lady Rhea (now the Witch Queen of NYC) and Bennie, two old-timers. This project is taking up just enough space and time in my life. I'm very happy being a film producer.
The older I get the more time I spend thinking. This is both the joy and horror of being alone a lot and prone to thinking. It's addictive too.
I'm still involved with the Bernie campaign, monitoring and admin-ing a few FB pages, but approaching it from a different angle. It was affecting my health there, so it was either stop doing it or find a new way to do it. Since I want to do something useful for Bernie, and someone needs to do these things, I want to do it. And so now when I'm playing hall monitor I don't invest in the issue, just straighten the suckers out as to rules. (This is dangerously close to Policy Governance, which I abhor. But that's another whole story.)
You see, I enjoy arguing as much as I enjoy haggling, which is not at all. It raises the bile in my throat and makes me antsy. When I argue I get unpolite. Then things generally go downhill. So I reserve my own soapboxing for my own time and keep it separate from hall monitoring. These same arguments will be there tomorrow, or next week, or back around in a month.It gives one time to think and calm down, too. Which generally makes for smarter arguing. Smarter arguments end quickly, it's the stupid arguing that goes on til you could kill yourself.
Sometimes I feel like I've fallen into a grad level course in social media with no prior knowledge of the subject. This is a cool experiment in sociology and who knows where it will lead? World peace, as more people see that everyone wants the same damn things everywhere, it's not too much to ask, and why the hell aren't we getting it? Will this ultimately lead to a worldwide change? Will war die out due to unpopularity? Will we just make peace more profitable than war so everyone makes out?
See what I mean about thinking. It's like this.
World news is too awful to talk about. The election is embarrassing. We are still in the Shire and Summer is a coming in. It's been raining and paining.
Mare is slowing down and taking more and more drugs. She gave up doing the bills and checkbook, and Jeff carries her upstairs now. I think she's letting go. Death is a series of losses just like life.
Billy is getting the house done part by part, still healing his ankle, still making me nuts, and will be here Monday for a week. I'm finally getting the endoscopy/colonoscopy on Tuesday. This gut doesn't want to heal and I'm doing the more gentle way of cleaning out the system. I just want to get it over with. 48 hours of no food, just clear liquids and laxatives. Joy. At least Billy will be here.
Still, our issues are nothing compared to Mare and her family's plight. To think- there are 7 billion other stories just like ours going on on this planet.
Strider has all but disowned me entirely. Or maybe entirely but I haven't really accepted that yet. I've no idea what's up, she said nothing. But she's done this to others over the years, I guess it was just my turn. I don't understand people who go that passive/aggressive route. I have too much mouth. Such is life, people do what they do. What I do is not give second chances to people who do what she's just done. So it's sad.
The deaths of very talented people can stop any time now, thanks.
The management made me take in my Bernie lawn sign, some rat bastid looked up the obscure HUD regulation and complained. Mind you, I'd had the State Senator's (who has an office in this place's admin building) out there every time she's run for the past 5 years with no comment.
It always worries me when it rains for days now. I talked to an old friend and coworker tonight for the first time in 10 years and we revisited that awful year of 2011, the year of cold turkey, death, fire, murders, flood and homelessness. 5 years ago. He was there when the murder happened at our old workplace. The General Manager told him to get back to work, standing there with blood on his shirt. No, we're not over that year. Not yet anyway. And the forecast is rain all week. Yeah, that's Spring, it rains. That's what I keep telling myself.
Beest is finally well and back to being the psycho cat we know. She's fattening right back up. Her book is on the back burner until I get my confidence back. Meanwhile I have the biopic of Herman Slater to coordinate and produce. Right now I'm getting people on board, while the director is planning his traveling itinerary, and we both pull hair out over funding.
And to end this on a shallow note, I'm so happy to be watching Game of Thrones in the regular broadcasting time. It took 6 years, but I'm finally seeing it when the world is raving. There's something communal in watching it when a couple million other folks do, and realize that in many other rooms, people are going "Oh!" at the same time you are. We lost some of that in the age of Netflix and owning and binging. Remember when everyone was watching "The Wizard of Oz" when it was broadcast? Like that. It'll be nice when cable is entirely a la carte, but having HBO is nice. And it doesn't suck like it used to suck, so there's that. And yes, heeeeere's Jonny!
Entertainment isn't all bad.
I hope your May is sweet and bright and full of flowers.
Between the awful news, shocking deaths, natural disasters and general hi-dee-ho of life in these United States these days, there is life. Spring is sprung, the flowers are popping, leaves grow by the hour, things are smelly. Beauty and stink often go together.
Today I finished 57 years of living. For better or worse I'm still here, I'm still having fun and making mistakes, doing great and lousy things, learning and laughing. I have good friends. I have nice acquaintances who work with me in causes. The day was full of good wishes via phone, email, Facebook, real mail and in person. I heard from people on 4 continents today- that's a miracle of modern science. Frank Zappa's sister sent me birthday wishes and so did many people I've known for decades or just a few weeks. What a blessing to be able to chat and get to know people you'd never be able to meet in the flesh otherwise, and find and stay in touch with those you'd thought were gone from your life.
Being at the docs lately, I've been impressed at the Star Trekish gadgets they have now. A wheel run across your forehead tells your temp. A little clothespin tells your pulse and oxygen level. The tech advances in all areas, new faster ways to do all the old things. But they still can't make a diagnosis.
So what if I'm not healthy and wealthy? Those are both great things to have, but life goes on without them. Life has pain, and heartbreak, and scary times for everyone. Life also has joy, and growth, and opportunities to be brave, to be kind, to learn. Anyone can enter or exit your life without warning. Any day can change everything. So can how you look at things.
Years ago when I was on the night shift in the Meat Dept., the guy who
did the tattoo on my upper right arm came thru at dinner time. He'd just
had a 2nd baby born and money was tight. I was culling the meat cases
for what was going off code and gave him a couple kielbasa on their last
day. No big deal. Just offhandedly, I said, "Us poor folk gotta stick
together." And he said, "You're rich in what really matters." He was
Remember a while back, I sent a piece of Ian's sweater to Texas for an experiment in psychic reading/mediumship? Well, all the results, written and drawn, are in. Not one hit. I was sent 7 readings, and several of them had similar too-common-to-matter fishing items from the medium(s). "Someone with an M", "Someone who was on life support", "The number 17", "Someone had a car accident", that sort of rubbishy typical "medium" fishing. Not one thing in the pages and pages that directly hit.
Next were the portraits. All of them women, 20-40. Not a one looked like anyone I know, living or dead. In fact, I don't think I know any women who died that young. Men, yes, with the AIDS crisis and drugs and cars. But the portraits were all young women. And the readings were pointed toward women spirits talking. I think the "medium" looked at the swatch and determined it belonged to a hippie woman, and ran with it.
In fact, I'd make a case that I can profile the "medium" better than she profiled Ian.
So, in my view, whomever they were using on this test, failed. Big fail. A "give it up and do something else" fail.