The Oddball Papers

Malfunction!

2010-08-29T01:17:00.000-04:00

Malfunction!

We were sitting in the restaurant having a nice dinner, catching up and reminiscing with a friend whose absence has been way too long, and whose son we were just meeting for the first time in person. This is our favorite restaurant; cheap, reasonably good service, all-you-can eat. Part way through our first round of plates, a small group came in and took up residence at a table behind me. Since I had paid little attention, I think the group consisted of at least two women, one baby still of chewing the table age, and at least one male individual (possibly two) who had some major malfunction; I could not tell whether it was of natural origin or was drug induced.

The wife and I sat on one side of the table, our friend and her son on the other. As I always do, I was doing a fairly good job of ignoring those people behind me, even when the Malfunctioning One set off on a verbal tirade against the other members of the group. From what I gathered, he very much wanted to go and was insisting the rest of them go also.

Suddenly I hear comments coming from the table behind, which have a different tone and quality, comments obviously directed at our table. Something about "are you staring at my wife" or in the general neighborhood. The son we have met has just turned 19 and is a burly boy. The malfunctioning commenter is much thinner, perhaps 20-something. The son replies with sarcasm, "Yeah, man, that's exactly what's happening. I'm just staring at your whole entire family."

The commenter then gets up from the table and seems to be heading toward the exit, but has turned and seems to have issued some non-verbal challenge (at least I didn't hear one) to the son. He immediately sprang to his feet and headed in that direction, ignoring mom who is saying "No!" to him, and who has headed after her son.

The wife and I are still seated, I quickly considering possibilities. I regretfully arise and head that way, thinking to be of assistance to the son, should he need any, fingering the weapon in my pocket it slices, it dices, makes mole hills outta mountains!. Having long since passed the stage of instant, testosterone-powered response to calculated defensive strategy, I was visualizing many variations of the possibly Freddy Krueger-esque displays which may shortly begin. By the time I was halfway to the exit, a small crowd of befuddled spectators, unaware of what they were spectating, and holding partially filled plates from the buffet line; it's new Colosseum rules, folks, no seating, buffet and a la carte dining as the fights begin! had accumulated; a group of bovine grazers, blankly observing Something Different.

I never made it to the exit. Before I got through the herd, the son was returning. Apparently a couple of cops had been dining nearer the exit and had observed a possible Perpetration of Nastiness in Progress and had intervened. They had told the two would-be gladiators that either one of them was leaving the premises, or they were both being escorted to the pokey. The son described the feeling of the cop who had taken hold of his arm as "kinda like getting your arm caught between the car bumper and the garage wall".

Confusion ensued. The herd had begun to dissolve, wandering (some dejectedly) back to their grazing areas. The friend had gone to the check out and paid for her and her son's meal. Being unaware of this, the wife and I had left payment for the lot of us on the table with the check please! The waitress found it and came running, saying we had over paid; one of the women with the table chewing baby perched on a hip was also trying to pay her bill. Apparently the Malfunctioning One functioned well enough to recall his aversion to the pokey and had vamoosed. The poor woman was so disheveled and perturbed she gave the cashier a $50 thinking it was a $20 and we watched that get sorted out amid mumbled apologies from her and the other woman, neither of whom had done nothing wrong as far as I could tell.

With a nod and a smile to the honest cashier and waitress, the wife and I and our friend and her son then went to visit a neighboring store, stopping in the parking lot long enough to smoke cigarettes and rehash the event, with several potentially different outcomes, as humans are oddly want to do. After an hour or so of window shopping (no windows purchased; only a $2 quart of oil for us) we exchanged hugs and other pleasantries, with promises to not allow another two years or so to go by before meeting again (each with our own reasons for thinking we may not have another two years).

Although I love my friends and am genuinely glad to see them and share a few laughs, good food, etc., floor shows optional I find I must go through a period of decompression afterward to avoid a version of psychic "bends" from excessive exposure to flesh and blood persons, as opposed to the push-button friends of cyberspace. Not all humans are "social creatures".

In recovery...

TRB

My Doctor is Killing Me: Tears and Empathy

2009-11-07T21:22:00.000-05:00

My Doctor is Killing Me: Tears and Empathy

Goodbye Momma

2009-05-10T22:27:00.000-04:00

Goodbye Momma

I thought of momma today. And many others I have seen and met over the years. Some very good, some very bad. Some mothers are very kind and loving, some full of hate and pain, some are there as a chair is "there", some not there at all. I know of someone whose mother put on a nice clean dress, went onto the front porch, lay down and blew her brains out. I was very fortunate. Mine was the very kind and loving sort. Momma didn't live in this millennium. She expired in 1999. If there is anything left of her at all is is a few bones in a cemetery somewhere. I'm not certain exactly where because I was not there. I said my goodbye to momma in the funeral home, tried to burn her features into my mind, touched her head with the wispy white hair and felt only death. Stiffness. Immobility. Permanence. I cried out a large percentage of my body's water content, and grieved more than I thought it was possible to grieve.

I could not go to her funeral. I could not risk losing control of myself and possibly doing bad things. Because I've known many, many Southern country funerals. I know the lies they tell; "she's gone home", "she's in a better place", "we'll see her again"... ad nauseum. Lies, delusions, illusions, denial... from a people too fragile apparently to grasp or know reality. I did not want to risk my life and theirs. My strong instinct is to lash out against lies and deception. Preachers preach lies like "she's in a better place", as though she has taken a bus to Atlanta, and "we'll see her again" as though we only have to wait a while to buy our own ticket. Momma is not in a better place, she has not "gone on". She is just one of the estimated 100 billion or so humans who once existed and are no more. Opinion, belief, desire, hope and faith are, at best, utterly irrelevant to that fact. It is as much fact as it is fact that you are reading these words.

I thought of momma today. I felt the loss, the lump in my throat, the sting in my eyes. Momma does not live or exist in my memories. My memories exist. Momma does not exist and will never exist in a billion trillion years. I listened to several of the old Gospel songs, funeral songs, like Where the Soul of Man Never Dies, Wayfaring Stranger, I'll Fly Away, Will the Circle be Unbroken, Precious Memories.... my tears flowed anew. I wept for my loss, wept for the loss of so very many others. I wept for momma (and paw) who was and is not, for my children who never were, and for my own end. I wept for the ignorance and weakness of my species.

I thought of momma today.

Note to self: put toilet paper on shopping list.

TRB

I'm 51

2009-04-12T00:28:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I'm really amazed sometimes at how long it is between visits here> I guess sometimes I really want readers and so I blog at Myspace. the only place where I do have a few somewhat regular readers. Other times, I don't care so much... like now. When I'm feeling not up to par. Nothing especially wrong, I just don't feel right... like something is missing somehow, though I don't know what. I suppose part of it is depression. Not like I used to have, but I guess "mild" depressions, mostly due to not being able to do things like go tot the Atheist Convention in Atlanta... because of lack of money. I'd really hoped to meet Richard Dawkins. Hang on, I gotta check out what the hell is this "monetize" button I see on here... never saw that before.

Feb. 10, 2008

2008-02-10T14:22:00.000-05:00

Geez. Amazing how hard it is to consistently post shit here (or anywhere). My memory is getting worse. Been trying for days to remember the name of that town south of where Bess is, where I had to go to get on a greyhound. Santa something, I'm sure. Maybe I'll look it up. Also saw an actor whose name I can't dredge up for shit. Older actor, used to have a TV series, been in MANY movies, seems like it's Robert Something. Bess's birthday is in two days - the twelfth. She doesn't communicate anything at all like she used to. Ah well. Am having a couple of rum&cokes today... last day I can before Melinda's day off tomorrow. Gotta remember (ha!) to get a new bottle next time I get to go to town alone.
About a month ago doc put me on insulin. I always hoped I wouldn't sink to that level, but have all the same. Philis is in long term care at SEAMC. Never did get moved to the red brick house (though her cats did). When she told me she was gonna sell the Ariton house, it hit like a ton of bricks. Hurt, rage, fear. I literally put years of my blood, sweat and tears into the place. Always saw it as the one place on the planet I had to go to if I couldn't be anywhere else. But my name was never on the deed, so I ain't worth shit as far as that goes. If that happens, then I'll be REALLY afloat in the world, with no gaurantees at all about having a place to live. Figures. All good deeds result in a total fucking.
I do hope I make it back here fairly soon. Birthday is only about 6 weeks or so away. Turning 50 years old. Holy shit, how did THAT happen. Better than the alternative? I'd ask Jimmy and Sam if I could.

Thanksgiving

2007-11-23T00:36:00.000-05:00

Wow, how time flies. Had no idea it had been so long since I wrote here. Went to Melinda's mother's house for dinner while Melinda was at work. Then went and got her, came back got two plates I had saved and ate agian at home.
Met someone I never knew existed. Melinda's mom's new feller is Roger. His brother Darryl, whom he hadn't seen for 15 years flew in from Oregon. Lives in Banden by the Sea, which reminded me of the late Dorothy Thompson, poet laureate of Leland Ruble's Freethought Perspective. He seemed like a nice guy and smart - used be a history teacher.
Of Sandy's latest 9 babies, one has disappeared - dunno how or why. So we're now down to only 14 dogs. Yeah.
This is all I can do right now. Hope to be back real soon.

A day of hurt

2007-11-09T00:48:00.000-05:00

I feel really bad right now. So bad I don't think I'm able to coherently form sentences and type them in. My soul was kinda drained today. I talked both to Bess, which wasn't really a problem, and to Philis, which was. The condition she is in, with the extreme obesity, the diabetes, the psychological problems... and the conditions she is in, clutter and filth all over, an old house, with no heat other than a gas stove oven which she can't get to, bedding that is cold and wet and stinky from where she has urinated and defecated because she could not get to her feet... and this is someone I love dearly, someone to whom I was married for 26 years. I want so badly to at the very least just see her and spend a little time with her, but can't because.... well. Because.
Now I have no money left.

2007-11-04T15:09:00.000-05:00

Been working hard on getting my "delusion" blog ready to post at myspace. washed some blankets and hung them out, had lunch. Still trying to push the murder of my babies further back into a dark corner and maybe throw an old sheet or something over that... but I'm doing better.
To all readers, if there happen to be any, thanks for stopping by and reading, and please just let me know you were here.

FLILFs and stuff

2007-11-03T11:09:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I do often get really distracted by all kinds of things, which means I actually get done only a tiny fraction of stuff I'd like to do. This video
http://www.indecision2008.com/blog.jhtml?c=vc&videoID=127597 about flilfs did it this morning. How often does a guy fantasize about being very personal with a First Lady?
Ok... to business. I gotta prepare supper. Put the roast in the slowcooker, cut up some taters and carrots and chunk them in there. Get a shower and get dressed so I can go with Melinda to a viewing of a guy she knew who recently died. I didn't know him from Adam, but I'm being supportive of her.
Got cleaning to do, laundry to hang out... by the way, that thing about wiring a new circuit for the dryer is temporarily on hold. Checked out the prices of wire at Home Depot and you'd think copper was the new gold. Kriminy.
It's noonish, and I'm having the last of the coffee from this morning and trying very hard to become actually awake.
Melinda is off again tomorrow so I may not be on to speak of again till Monday. BRB

Feeling dazed

2007-11-03T01:33:00.000-04:00

It's 1:30 in the morning on Saturday. First chance I've had to be on again since acquiring a new mouse.
I just went outside and simply stood in the dark a while in the front yard, looking at the stars, feeling the damp fall chill. Sometimes I can stand back from life and look at it. Of course "home" is usually a good place to be, but when I mentally remove myself for a bit, there enters into my bones a chill far deeper than any fall chill.
This reminded me of when I went to California back in Jan/Feb, to see Bess. Had been there only 3 days and found myself trying to get a little sleep in an alley behind a convenience store. A slight drizzle, and around 40 degrees. Whenever I almost dozed off I woke myself back up by shuddering from the cold.
I'm in Clear Lake, California, in these conditions, broke, know not a soul, have no place at all to go, and no way to get there. This is when I truly grasped that being "in love" can get you real dead real quick.
Coming back inside here, knowing I belong here, that I am "home", where there is a roof, and furniture, and heat and lights and satellite TV, and phone and internet and refrigerator with good food ... a person who does love me and cares about my well-being... a sense of safety.
Of course it's still hard for me to function very well right now.
Thursday night, Melinda and I were sitting on the front porch talking (because the mouse - and the PC - were temporarily defunct) when BOOM! BOOM! and a bit latter... BOOM!
It came from the direction of the next house to the west, which is about 400-500 yards away. I commented to her that that had to be either a shotgun or a very large caliber handgun... no rifle short of an elephant gun has that kind of boom.
I also noticed that my dear babies, Miss Lucy and Miss Perky, were not here. Immediately I had that cold fist close around my heart and I just "knew" they were gone. They are still gone. I can't know with complete certainty what happend to them. It's conceivable they were abducted by someone. But the chances of that are very slim. They were simply murdered.
Only a coule months ago their sister, Feisty, was also murdered. They had all gone to the house across the road because they heard children laughing and playing and they wanted to play too. Lucy and Perky dodged those bullets but poor Feisty was shot twice in two different legs. Upon taking her to the vet we learned that her right elbow joint was totally shattered and would never heal. The only "options" were surgery to amputate the leg, or to complete her murder, euphemistically referred to as "putting her down" or "putting her to sleep". I can't take Melinda to the doc for things she needs, and we surely didn't have hundreds of dollars for a vet bill.
With tears threatening to explode my eyeballs out of their sockets, I looked at her beautiful face, kissed her head, she peed on my hand, and I left the room, never to see her again.
Animal control officer showed up here next day or so after police had been over there in response to the shooting, I guess. He said, "they were within their rights" to shoot Feisty. Of course. How dare a beautiful blond chow puppy have the audacity to want to jump and play with kids... we'll shoot the bitch.
And it was another brick in the wall of hatred that I try so hard to keep down low so I can see over it to the rest of the world.

And now... I loved them so. They were my babies. Whenever I would go somewhere in the car and come back home, they would all come greet me at the care and I had to do some hugging and loving before I could get out.
I could understand if they were viscious dogs, biting people... but I have never seen puppies quite so loving. And another brick... and another... cemented by cruel, callous idiocy... cement that my agonized tears cannot quite melt away. Few people could understand such a thing. Most would consider me an overly emotional fool, perhaps delusional, at least "skewed" somewhat. After all, "it's just a dog." But I loved my nonhuman kids every bit as much as you love your human ones. I have no recourse. I can't call the cops to arrest the killer because "they were within their rights" to senselessly murder my babies. Ah yes... rights... what a quaint notion.

Well, I gotta go back outside for a little while, look at those distant stars, blow my nose, wonder who may be there peering back at me.

My first TOP entry of the new Era.

2007-10-31T00:25:00.001-04:00

How many things in your life never get done because you forgot or got distracted by other things; how many things will trail you into your grave attached to "I was gonna..."?
I was gonna give some back history about The Oddball Papers (hereinafter TOP), about how I used to do a print version, etc. Maybe later.

The whole point in this one is to write what I feel and, to some extent, why. Most people do not understand at all that the "money can't buy happiness" mantra is complete bullshit. A couple of days ago, Melinda's mom's new feller moved in with her. They brought over his old dryer cuz he didn't need it any more and because the one here seemed to be good only for a small storage cabinet. Plugged it in and... nothing. So there's some problem between the breaker box out on the pole and the dryer outlet. I was gonna go under the trailer and track down the wire.

Only way to do that was wade into a maggot-filled pool of shit-water. Took part of the underskirting off to get a better way in. Impossible to get anywhere near where the wire from the dryer plug comes down through the floor because there's only 5 to 10 inches of clearance under the floor for several feet before you get to that end of the trailer. I have no clue how the last person to work on that managed it. I've always hated with a passion trying to "make do" with a half-assed job. I'd rather just do without. I'm a good electrician. But it takes a lot of money to get the proper tools and equipment to do a job. I'll eventually run a whole new circuit from the pole breaker box to the outlet, but I'll have to buy enough of the correct guage wire, possibly a new breaker, possibly a new outlet. Even then, I'll have to "make do" because I can't get the rest of the stuff that is needed to do a good job - just one that will suffice.

Yesterday I couldn't get the mouse on here to work - it's been chewed by puppies. Small thing; trivial really. But I rely a LOT on being able to be online to maintain my mental equilibrium. Sure, just run down to Walmart and get another mouse. Um... there's that money thing. Don't have any. Next month I will get one. Fortunately Melinda managed to wiggle it enough to get it to work for a while.

We had to pay about $135 for a new lawn mower. The old one died and the grass here is shoulder high in some places. That finally worked and finally got some gas. But when that mouse wouldn't work and being unable to do anything about it, that feeling of utter impotence - it sometimes tends to bring old things - old mental demons that usually are not much of a problem because I can keep them corralled in a corner of my mental attic. But when the impotence comes, yes literal and figurative and psychological and sexual, which is most often brought on by severe money deficiency, those old demons get out, and there is no fighting because there is neither ammunition nor able soldier. The only partly sane option is complete retreat. So I made very sure all phone ringers are turned off... I have to come to passionately hate the sound of a ringing phone - even on TV. Made sure dogs had food and water, turned TV volume on high, closed door, and buried myself as deeply as possible into the bed and my Richard Dawkins book, until blessed oblivion finally rescued me for a while.

I will feel much better when my money comes again. Even though it's a tiny amount, it's better than none, and along with the other things it will buy - another month's satelite TV, rent, car insurance, the lawn mower... it will also bring enough piece of mind to last (barring unexpected problems) almost till December.

I finally got past "I was gonna..." on this blog. That helps a little. To coin a phrase... I'll be back.