Cot Damn

Normally I am not awake this early but a couple of minutes ago, I was alert enough to hear my cell phone receive a fresh new text. I checked it out, assuming an errant network or an individual with little cognizance for time was to blame. But it was actually a text from Mocha reminding me about our rent. Then I remembered that he was up shopping just like he said it would.

I left my bed completely when I realized I would have to relieve myself if I had any chance of going to bed again. When I left my room, I saw that the hallway light was on. I thought someone just left it on last night and I was about to turn it off when it clicked that Banana's door was wide open. For a quick moment, I thought all those fundamentalist Christians were right and the rapture had taken place. Then I got upset trying to figure out how my roommates were more holy than me. Then it hit me that the only rapture that took them was Black Friday shopping. 

I grew up largely shielded from this amazing frenzy. New York City has only recently begun to be inhabited by the big box stores where these sales are the most prevalent. Sure, the department stores had similar blow outs, but we focused more on the fact that there would be a sale all day. We were sensible about our bargaining. No need in waking up extra early on a day off. But the clamor for half price laptops and cheap toasters hammers out all that logic.

I do admire the dedication of these people. Thinking about it, their single collective expenditure could boost the dollar. But the phenomenon still escapes me. Rushing about pre-dawn to buy stuff at any price just doesn't seem worth it. Especially nowadays when the websites for these companies happen to have some of the same deals online from midnight. I won't knock it though. It is nice to see that there is still something that gets everyone motivated on a large scale. Sadly it's only disaster or consumption that gets us moving.

I also must amend my earlier assertion that Halloween is the new American holiday. It is clear that Thanksgiving is nationally recognized. For one, the routine has remain unchanged: Day off, family relations, big meal, football related activities, rest, black friday. And commercialism couldn't corrupt it like Christmas or Halloween. The main elements of Thanksgiving are untouchable by corporations. The only thing you have to buy is food and transportation to see your family. No presents or costumes. And everybody loves the day off, the exorbitant meal, and the possibly awkward hug from that weird uncle and the too long kiss from grandma.

Anyway, I'm going back to bed. That's my holiday tradition.

AT & T

I work in Massachusetts but I also have family in New York. I also suffer from a nagging Peter Pan complex so I spend substantial time in Neverland. And the prospects of our yet to be determined presidential election are so harrowing, I might run away to Anywhere but America. So I need a phone that works in all those places. A place I call NEWNEVERMASSYWHERE

Where's The Director & The Call From The Guild

I often have the tendency to frame the events of my life into stereotypical frameworks found in common plotlines in television and film. Part of my issues come from the fact that I am waiting for some grand moment to occur so I recognize the cue to move on with life. Sooner or later, I expected the sun to shine in one specific spot or to hear angels sing for my one eureka moment. Thank God I realized I just need to make things happen for myself and that my life is not some foundation for a Sundance film entry.

Just as I am discarding that dangerous outlook, life keeps trying to convince me that my original way of thinking wasn't that far off. My father's outburst of emotion was just the beginning of the latest installment. I finally got to see my sister after a couple of months in absentia only to learn that just that afternoon good ol' dad had sent her an e-mail about her being "ambivalent". Why the hell should she be taking the impetus upon herself to talk with the man who abandoned her for most of her formative years? And wants us all to have dinner together? What?!?!?!?!? If the writers decide to strike the rumors state, maybe I can offer some per diem work to one or two and they can write me something more manageable.

If that wasn't surreal enough, my sister's mom called while I was there and asked to speak to me. I've been in this woman's company no more than a dozen times and I can't remember any of them except for one time in her house in Florida. This is the woman who asked my father to break up his marriage. And after 26 years she wants to talk to me. And of course, with the script, she made the most sense. It was a surreal conversation, but somehow cathartic for both of us. I shared the perspectives on Dad that I don't think my Mom could handle or is even aware of since my sister has given me privileged information. And she gave me a mandate to help my sister and dad to reconcile to some happy medium. In all the momentum of craziness, I totally took it on.

These are the times I wish I had more drama in my life as I was growing up then it wouldn't seem so weird. Some people just seem to roll with the punches but they all had some abnormal part of my life. I had the archetypal good upbringing. Both parents, regular church attendance. Except for some financial issues and one or two health scares, nothing really monumental really rocked me growing up. Now all this stuff is happening. I know it's not all deep. I'm lucky I lived life and know some skills to try to guide me through the situation. It still doesn't mean I can't be stunned about the whole ordeal.

I just wish this drama was catered sometimes

Bottled Up

After an absentee week that lead to a drop in productivity, I finally picked my arse up and went to New York. I figured Massachusetts had caught me in a spell so I forced myself to wake up early. I really almost didn't go again, but I did not want to break a promise to my mother. And my vanity pushed me further since it was my last time to get a haircut before my new job.

So today has been building steam. I did get that haircut and shave (before and after for your consideration), did a bit of shopping, and watched the decent American Gangster. And I made plans to drop in and hang with my sister, so I'm rather cheery even though the gray followed me to the city.

So I stop home to drop off stuff and run errands before seeing my sister, and I say hi to my dad who is doing chores in the house before Sabbath. Then I hear him call me and when I go, he opens his arms for a hug. We embrace, and he begins to cry. I couldn't believe it. Totally unprovoked. But it was only the beginning of a minor explosion of emotions. Fears of my prospects, hurt over my secrecy in my relations with my sister, jealousy over my relationship with my mom, just everything came tumbling out. I'm really glad I am having a good day.

Instead of railing into him, I kind of went into a therapeutic mode I normally only occupy at work. And I spoke of my grad school plans, explained my discretion, promised improved father-son relations and let him know everything was alright. But if I was in doubt before, it is crystal clear that the man is broken.

In the introduction to my initial blog, I mentioned that my objectie in life was not to be my father, hoping to avoid confusion and tunnel vision. I still have the same desire not to share his destiny, but now it is just because he is so utterly unhappy. I never want to be that sad. It is absolutely poisonous. For the last four years, I've watched it accelerate his death. I just can't go out like that.

Fall Back

Thank you Daylight Savings Time. With the extra hour of sleep you afforded me, combined with my previous 72 hours of prevalent idleness, I had the required energy to have an amazing day. I haven't written one of my Sunday appreciations in a while, because, well, I hadn't been appreciating them. Starting in the early summer, I began to get sent to different houses to either pass meds, supervise shifts, or both. For the past couple of weeks, I've been in the program that houses the oldest boys.

An assignment I initially dreaded has become mildly enjoyable. If this was my last week there, I ended on a high note. There were only three boys in the house, and two technically don't have to be eyes-on monitored in the house. Throughout the day, the three staff were high energy and the kids were too. It was a ball all day.

While Wolf Fighter, who was running shift, took one boy bowling, another staff and I took a couple kids to a Magic game tournament. On the way in I got to arouse my inner nerd and had discussions on computers, history, and religion. The tournament was held in a comic book store, which also had old vinyls. I found soundtracks to classic movies I owned but abstained from spending my meager funds on them right then. I figure the geeks that patronize the shop are not concerned with the soundtrack to "Anatomy of a Murder." Then we had lunch at an awesome place down the block and I didn't have to pay for it.

The Patriots also won in convincing fashion, this time from being down. All of the staff were engrossed in it. The other staff tackled my leg while I was on the phone with the nurse, informing him about our diabetic client's high blood sugar. This is how loose we got. Not to mention the jovial connection with the kids.

Plus, I didn't have to do what Mocha had to. That was back at my home program and the smell was atrocious.

Best part of the day: absolutely no issues. Nothing. If it wasn't for the meds, I would have thought it was a normal day at a boarding school.

The Disc Is Skipping

One of the benefits of having a friend like Nitro is the mental stimulation that she offers. Our friends are commonly seen as people we turn to when we want to relax and indulge ourselves. But its nice to have thhoughtful conversationalist amongst your fold somewhere, even if it isn't a friend. Luckily Nitro is mine and she is a friend.

She sent me this article earlier this week, but I really only got a chance to properly read it today (Thanks to New York Times abolishing the archive fee, you can read it any day too). For those who don't want to do the legwork and click-through, a brief synopsis: the author draws comparisons to the post French Revolution Jacobins to today's conservative politicians. After the Revolution, the Jacobins decided that you were either for liberty or against it. And a militant branch arose that decided to ironically destroy anyone who opposed liberty. When the pro-war faction wanted to war against other European powers, it was a fledgling United States that refused to aid and abet the French.

And more than two centuries later, another well orchestrated group has decided that liberty is in danger and the despots and tyrants who threaten it are vile threats that should be readicated. This time it is the French who don't want to assist. Oh how times have changed. Or rather, they really haven't. One of the French brave enough in the 18th century to speak against the Jacobins referred to the idea as being "armed missionaries." How effective can your message be if it is being taught with weapons?

Where's Napolean when you need him?

The New American Holiday

Last night, as I shepherded my boys around for trick or treating, it occurred to me that Halloween might be the new national holiday. Earlier in the shift, one of our struggling boys wailed that we couldn't take away Halloween. This was after I told him that since he refused group therapy, he couldn't participate. He ended up going cause he turned it around so quickly, but I think a prime factor in determining his approval was the reverence he held for the holiday. He was emphatic about its importance.

And even though the local houses seemed a bit more subdued than recent years, the disparity in families and ages of those involved contributed to my thoughts. Families traveled in packs, including even infants and toddlers. The seniors took part too with intricately packaged treats.

Then Posh texted a lewd message that was inspired by some of the costumes she viewed on her way home from class. Even my age group gets into it. Co-workers dressed up and my peers seemed to lament the odd Wednesday placement of the holiday. It inhibited their partying. It is the one day of the year where it seems socially acceptable for woman to be as close to naked as possible, as long as they are wearing a sexy facsimile of an everyday outfit. For a couple of crazy nights, an indulgence of nurses, French maids, and schoolgirls survey the nightlife, and its all perfectly fine. People lament over their costume choices the way they once did over their Christmas gift choices.

And what of Christmas? This was the dominant holiday in my formative years. Each year, everyone watched the Grinch and participated in Secret Santa office pools. But commercialization has overtaken Christmas. Now "Merry Christmas" has been absorbed by "Happy Holidays" and it seems its never too early to get your Christmas shopping out of the way.

Posh says that Thanksgiving is still the dominant holiday. I can see her point. But that seems like the most agreed upon four day weekend. A time to see family, have awkward relations, then heal wounds by battling bargain hunters in the wee hours of the morning. I feel like Halloween still motivates people to go more out of there way. Thanksgiving involves some extra food. Halloween seems to actually encourage activity.

Either way, its still interesting to see how into it people get. I'm glad for the candy.