--SOMETIMES THE REASONS DON’T MATTER

…I’m almost finished reading Tim O’Brien’s essay collection, “If I Die In A Combat Zone” about his time in Viet Nam.  It’s riveting and revolting and beautifully written.  Makes a person despise war even more than they would have before.  I wish I could write as well as Tim O’Brien.

…I’ve had a run of bad luck to start the year.  Some of it is my own fault, some not.  I’m hoping for a turnaround any day now.

…My mother’s been dead two years now, but I think of her often.  I feel quite distanced from her.  In her final years I rarely saw her.  When I did, it was always a game of acting—attempts to paint normal across the black past, the crimes and misdemeanors, the tortures both physical and mental.

It seems to me that it’s pretty hard to hate a child.  Especially your own.  It would be very difficult to hurt a child, especially your own.  The only rationale for such a thing would have to be mental illness, which is what I assume my mother had during those dark years.  Believing this allows me compartmentalize the experiences, to keep them contained in a place far away.

I don’t really know why I’m thinking of her now, or what trigger my thoughts.  Must have been something. 

Did I love my mother?  I suppose so.  Your duty is to love your parent, despite everything. 

One of the things I found odd was how differently she turned out as she aged.  Gone was the paranoia and suspicion, the lurking anger, the treachery.  So if it left her, or if she kept it in check, was she really mentally ill after all?  Of course, I’ll never know.  But that’s some of what I’ve been wondering.

Parenting your children, teaching them well, setting a great example—those are the most important things one can do.  Holding in check “the sins of the father” is key as well.

Someone suggested I write a memoir about my family growing up, but I find that idea impossible.  Most of the stories I write have blades of truth in them, and that’s why my characters are always getting wounded.  As I’ve said before, I just don’t know how to write a happy story.

So that was a bit of a rant and now I’m done.  I promise not to be so maudlin in the future.

Let’s us have a great day, what do you say?

--I’M GLAD YOU’RE SO HAPPY

…It’s pretty frigid in most parts of the country.  Hard to fathom being homeless.  What a cruel torture that would be.  This year one of my resolutions is to complain less and be more grateful for everything I have.

…How are you?  No, how are you really?

…Here are a few things I’ve learned  that are sort of interesting:

According to Forbes, last year's biggest musical acts in terms of earning for 2013 were these:

#6 Justin Bieber -- $58 million

#5 Coldplay -- $64 million

#4 Toby Keith -- $65 million

#3 Bon Jovi -- $79 million

#2 Lady Gaga -- $80

#1 Madonna -- $125 million

Top 5 countries of origin for international students in the US:

#5 Canada -- 27,000

#4 Saudi Arabia -- 45,000

#3 South Korea -- 71,000

#2 India --97,000

#1 China -- 236,000

2013 Top Baby Girl Names:

1. Sophia

2. Emma

3. Olivia

4. Isabella

5. Mia

6. Ava

7. Lily

8. Zoe

9. Emily

10. Chloe

Boy Names:

1. Jackson

2. Aiden

3. Liam

4. Lucas

5. Noah

6. Mason

7. Jayden

8. Ethan

9. Jacob

10. Jack

--DID I MISS ANTHING?

…Is that you in the photo above?   I hope not.  I hope you’re safe and dry, swilling a warm cup of cocoa in front of a fire.

…Last week I saw “American Hustle.”  It was a most enjoyable romp.  Jennifer Lawrence was a hoot and again showed her versatility.  Amy Adams was spectacular—sharp, fun, funny, and very sexy.  Christian Bale will certainly pick up an Oscar nod, if not the statute itself.  He must have gained 150 pounds and he’s just genius.  I recall watching him as a 90 pound delusional character in “The Machinist,” then the next film he was in—about five months later—was “Batman” where he was as buff as Marky Mark in his Calvin Klein underwear ad days. 

I still need to see:

“The Wolf On Wall Street”

“Nebraska”

“Philomena”

“Saving Mr. Banks”

“Her”

“Blue Jasmine”

“Dallas Buyer’s Club”

…I’ve been watching “Luther” on Netflix starring the remarkable Idris Elba who also has the lead in Mandella and who played one of the most memorable characters (“Stringer Bell”) on “The Wire.”

It’s a good time if you’re looking for something intriguing.

…One of my resolutions for 2014 is getting back to reading more.  I used to regularly read at least 100 books a year.  It helps when one aspires to be a writer.

I finished “Give Me Everything You Have” by James Lasdun.  It was definitely a creepy book about being stalked, although it did falter often when he tried to draw parallels to Anti-Semitism, though I understand what he was trying to do.

…One of my favorite activities is soaking in the tub with bubbles, jets, a book, with paper and pen handy.  Since getting a new puppy, I’ve only had one bath in the last five months. 

For whatever reason, I always find my creative streak in the tub, so my dearth in bathing may explain my lack of productivity.  Or so I hope.

…Getting used to a new computer isn’t much fun.  I’m not a guy who likes change anyway, but constantly getting bumped off the internet is a tad frustrating, to say the least.  And then there are other things like clipping and pasting and having the whole email disappear into the ether.  Of course, things could be worse.

…Does it get dark early in the evenings where you are?  Doesn’t that suck?  Unless you’re a vampire, you can’t really enjoy the lack of sunshine and how the days shrink in on themselves.

…Here’s wishing you a fabulous weekend.

--WHERE'D YOU GO?

...I'm still having computer issues.  My last blog post went up and now it's gone.  Please hang tight.  I'll be back soon.

--IT'S STARTING TO GET HAZY OVER HERE

"People call me an optimist, but I'm really an appreciator....When I was six years old and had scarlet fever, the first of the miracle drugs, sulfanilamide, saved my life. I'm grateful for computers and photocopiers...I appreciate where we've come from." Julian Simon

"I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something; I will not refuse to do the something I can do." Helen Keller

"The last thing we learn is our effect on other people." George Elliot

"The real measure of your wealth is how much you'd be worth if you lost all your money." Bernard Meltzer

"You will never find the best when you are always looking for the worst." Jeffery Benjamin

U.G.L.Y: U gotta love yourself.

"Just because we don’t talk, doesn’t mean I don’t think about you. I’m just trying to distance myself because I know I can’t have you." Wiz Kalifa

"Your girlfriend wants me in her mouth like I’m her dentist." Wiz Kalifa

"Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes." Ghandi

"When you are happy, you can forgive a great deal." Princess Diana

-"Ever notice how ‘What the hell’ is always the right answer?"

-"Creativity has got to start with humanity and when you’re a human being, you feel, you suffer."

-"I don’t want to make money. I just want to be wonderful."

-"A career is wonderful thing, but you can’t snuggle up to it on a cold night."

-"Most importantly, keep smiling. Because life is a beautiful thing, and there’s so much to smile about."

-"It’s not true I had nothing on, I had the radio on."

-"Imperfection is beauty. Madness is genius. It is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring."

-"Hollywood is a place where they’ll pay you a thousand dollars for a kiss, and fifty cents for your soul."

-"It’s often just enough to be with someone. I don’t need to touch them. Not even talk. A feeling passes between you both. You’re not alone."

-"To all the girls that think you’re fat because you’re not a size zero, you’re the beautiful one, its society who’s ugly."

-"The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space."

-"I’ve often stood silent at a party for hours listening to my movie idols turn into dull and little people."

"Suicide is a person’s privilege. I don’t believe it’s a sin or a crime. --"It’s your right if you want to, though it doesn’t get you anywhere."

-"Beneath the make-up and behind the smile, I’m just a girl who wishes for the world."

-"The truth is I’ve never fooled anyone. I’ve let people fool themselves. They didn’t bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn’t argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn’t. When they found this out, they would blame me for disillusioning them and fooling them."

-"Please don’t make me a joke. End the interview with what I believe. I don’t mind making jokes, but I don’t want to look like one… I want to be an artist, an actress with integrity… If fame goes by, so long, I’ve had you, fame. If it goes by, I’ve always known it was fickle. So at least it’s something I experienced, but that’s not where I live."

-"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so you can learn to let go. Things go wrong so you can appreciate them when they’re right. You believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself. And sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

-"I’m selfish, impatient, and insecure. I make mistakes. I am out of control and at times, hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you don’t deserve me at my best."

-"Sex is part of nature. I go along with nature."

-"People respect you because they feel you’ve survived hard times and endured and although you’ve become famous, you haven’t become phony.

-"I restore myself when I’m alone."

-"Men who think that a woman’s past love affairs lessen her love for them are usually stupid and weak. A woman can bring a new love to each man she loves, providing there are not too many."--Marilyn Monroe

--TROUBLE WILL FIND ME

…We’re getting closer to Christmas all the time.  I hope things are too hectic for you.

…These were some interesting and/or funny things my Facebook friends had to say last week:

-Dear Universe,
Please stop fucking with me. I'm weak and tired and will hate Christmas forever if you keep it up.
Your Sentient Being,

-I want to be serious and use Facebook to reflect my serious existence and make serious updates but then people get mad and yell at you because they can't see your face or feel empathy for you and everyone on the Internet disagrees so I guess I'll just post about my cats and things.

-You know those people who love to give parenting advice--who don't even have kids, or a cat, and have likely never even raised a plant to maturity--I'd like them all to have their tongues stapled to their cheeks. And I don't even think that's a violent response or bad role modeling on my part, so there.

-my future life goals involve cake and whiskey.

-I just had my first acid flashback. I was listening to Sugaree and all of a sudden I saw the walls flicker like a candle and the floor smelled like a sad tree and I really really felt like I needed to find a bathroom, the same way I used to feel after shitty parking lot LSD at Dead shows. It was horrible. No wonder I quit being a hippie.

-Okay, so I'm on a roll. In the past 24 hours I've been approached by security at the Mall (they went away when I said I was waiting for my daughter and pointed her out), I've been proselytized by two Mormon sisters while trying to buy donuts at a Dunkin's (they were out of all donuts, WTF?), somebody hit the parked van leaving a black streak on the rear bumper to match the black streak somebody left on the front bumper last month, now the overzealous fraud protection folks at #$@%*#( credit card company have denied my last three Xmas gift purchases without telling me until now, which required an hour on the phone to solve, which failed, which was finally solved on internet chat. Did I mention both of my girls are home sick? I wanna be sedated.

-some days, you sit down at your stupid desk job and stare at an excel spreadsheet full of bullshit and want to die and then you remember someone you really love sent you an amazing essay that you can't wait to publish and it makes you want to write again and you can't stop thinking about gems because the essay is like a gem and it's like fuck this excel spreadsheet, fuck this job, fuck everything that isn't that essay, fuck everything that's not a gem.

Goddamn it. I swear, any show that introduces a dog solely to have them die needs some kind of warning. After all, they do have a warning for sexual content, which is considerably less upsetting.

-I tried smoking crack today.

--MAYBE YOU SHOULD APPROACH ME SIDEWAYS

…I went to a Christmas party in Seattle last night, which was a lot of fun, but man oh man was it cold this morning.

When I got home I found out I had these poems accepted and published in Colours Journal:

                                                                  The Missing

                        I heard the bullet hiss through the black-holed night.  I watched the drugstore window shatter, the clerk’s pistol smoking as you slumped like rags.

            It was supposed to be easy money but we never figured on Eddy turning.

Now time is nothing is everything is too much balloon skin, stretching and contracting like a rubber sack that holds me captive. 

I lean against an object, never a person.  You would have bought me pretty things with lace, new dolls, a porch swing.

I’ve kept your remnants—Sex Pistols sweatshirt, your Kerouac book, a skeleton key.  But the bullet, that is the piece of you I covet most.

                                                               Written By

            For Christmas I am given a tool set.  Unwrapped, it consumes the kitchen table.  My typewriter sets on the linoleum floor, a heap of springs and metal.  Mother watches Father who picks bacon from his teeth and tells me, “Go ahead, I want to see this.  Fix the thing.”

There is a Mark

Cops and reporters came

with their carnival barker noise,

nighttime lit up like the Fourth

by sirens and generators.

For a while this was the place to be,

last stop at the end of the world,

gangs getting even,

bludgeoning a little girl.

Now all that’s here is a mark,

a wine stained-Venezuela.

Some days I pull out the book she gave me, bloated thick from the rain.

If I could read it, I would.

But I never cry and I don’t sweat anymore because

my blood is made of concrete

and my dreams are steel.

Downs

Cat sweaters and puppet clothes lay on the floor by your sister’s doll house,

small as quilt squares.

The naked Barbies wait to be dressed

and Ken is blind or bored

but your sister is rocking and slapping herself convulsing.

You take her hand away the same as removing a strand of hair.

You hold her palm, tell a joke and there in the laughter

I find a resemblance,

how her mongoloid eyes are lit with your same sense of wonder.

In the doorway saying goodbye,

sideways rain pimples your cheek,

sounding tinny on the gutters,

and you ask,

“What?  What are you smiling about?”

  

Teenage Summer

The good thief watches while

we soak in a night-blackened sea of shimmering oil,

water that makes us weightless

even as you kick and paddle.

We’ll be old soon enough.

Now the stars urge us to write songs or

yodel so that our laughter rifles through the sky.

The waves rock us like babies.

They slurp across our slick skins

and beckon us to kiss,

kiss deep and long

as lovers do.