Doc says I’ll live a while longer…

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Results of my annual physical are in.

By all the usual standards, I’m alive!

Nice to know that.

I like my doctor, I hate going to the doctor. I dread the day he comes back with the result of some test or other and tells me really bad news. I have no ideal how I’ll respond to it.

Oh sure… the 7 stages and all that; but what does it really mean to me as a person? Will I embrace the reality and fight? Or will I choose to live in blissful ignorance and simply forget to wake up one day?

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There are pluses and minuses to each course of action.

If it’s serious and you fight, you could easily find yourself living in a tight little circle running from appointment to appointment at medical facilities for the rest of your days. I hate the smell of antiseptic in the morning!

On the other hand, if you choose to live in ignorant bliss you could simply live a happy if short span. If you go that route, you have to opportunity to do all the things you might have been afraid to do. Imagine the freedom of being able to do any drugs, have any kind of crazy ass sexual escapades, jump out of planes, climb mountains, live life homeless wandering the world. 

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Suddenly, albeit perhaps briefly the world really is your oyster. What penalty could conventional law place on you? Arrest? If you’re imprisoned, they provide you free health care. If the law allows you to go you simply go back to doing what you want.

When I’m confronted with my mortality I find myself thinking like this. The concept of no boundaries appeals to me in a very fundamental way.

The idea that nothing, no matter how dangerous really matters is alluring. I suspect the very first thing I’d try is something like peyote or the drug from that tribe in South America that’s been called the “god” drug. Supposedly, this stuff allows you to take a journey to the center of your being and commune with the universe. 

Why haven’t I done these things? Laws, Conventions, Rules, Expectations.  

In other words… FEAR.

Fear of consequences, punishment, loss of freedom, or simply people not liking me.

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It’s ironic because in a very real way I gave up absolute freedom to live in and be a part of a society that I no longer recognize. I guess I’m at that age now where I wonder; What If?

Down that road lies the potential for despair. Not bad to occasionally think about it… Very bad to dwell there.

So what’s the alternative?

Look forward. Remember that all it takes to change the future is to choose the future you want. 

That’s where I’m at. Yep I’ll live another few days, months, years, decades, whatever, but the future is as yet unwritten. Since I’m the one doing the writing I have to remember not to let the past have too much control over what I write next.

I think I’m at a place where I want to experience some of the things I’ve denied myself for no other reason than I wanted to fit in, to be accepted, liked, and thought of as doing what was expected.

I supposed I should say, “Thanks Doc, see ya next year.” maybe I will the next time I talk to him.

Until then… I’m setting a blank piece of paper and a fresh new pen on that desk in my head. I’ll start writing something new.

To Quiet days

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It’s my weekend. 

I slept soundly, and late for me. It was 5:00 when I finally woke up.

I lay there in bed enjoying the contrast between the cool air in the room and the warmth of my bed. My morning wood put a smile on my face, it was nice to just “Be” for a while. 

I’d silenced all the electronics the night before, so there was nothing of the modern world to drag me into my day.

I dozed off & on until about 5:30 then got up made coffee and took a long satisfying morning piss. That’s a highly under-rated experience that we often miss in our rush to get ready for work and get out the door. 

As I get older and the world gets more complex, I find that I’m appreciating the simple things in life. 

I don’t have to be anywhere until my annual physical at 11:20 am. That’s the good news, the bad news is that I can’t have anything to eat, and no sugar in my coffee until afterwards… Grrrr. I’m going to have to work very hard to not be “Hangry”.

By the time I’m finished at the Docs office it will be the middle of the lunch time rush and I’ll be ravenous. The Doc usually has some kind of munchies around his office maybe i’ll make do with something from his place until after the rush then stop for a civilized meal.

A civilized lunch is something I rarely get these days, so I’m looking forward to that.

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I have mixed feelings about seeing the Doc. On the one hand I don’t see him that often and am generally healthy, so our visits are pretty mellow.

On the other hand…

Well he’s gonna do the ol finger up my butt trick. Meh, gotta be done. I just feel like it should have a “Happy Ending”. I mean he’s gonna push and prod a part of my anatomy that is involved in happy endings, so I figure In (ahem) for a penny, in for a pound.

At least I’d leave with a smile on my face!

I don’t mean that disrespectfully toward my Doctor, I just feel like the indignity of the situation should have an up side.

From there, the plan is to meander home to the mountain where I’ll do a mountain of laundry, and shut down the irrigation system for the winter. The irrigation system shutdown shouldn’t take more than 30 minutes.

After that I’ll probably nap. The laundry won’t need me hovering over it. I’ll set the computer to do most of the monthly maintenance on the home network automatically. It’ll ask me for help if it encounters anything out of the ordinary. The washer and dryer will do their thing and beep at me when they’re done. So I can put on some favorite music and just relax.

Friday, I’ll slug my way 100 miles back down to San Diego and get ready to start the work week. But that’s still a day away, so I’m not going to think about it.

Have a good day

We need to be touched

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We intuitively know this, but with the hustle and bustle of our ‘work a day world’, it’s easy to forget this simple fact.

Massage can fill part of the void, if you’re living alone and aren’t seeing anyone. 

Contrary to popular belief, not every massage is a vehicle to have sex and not every masseuse or masseur is a prostitute using a clever (or not so clever) disguise to take money for sex.

Although I have been fortunate enough to have a number of massages that ended with me being invited to spend the night. However, that was something that two consenting adults entered into as adults, and no-one was “on the clock”. We were just two people having a good time and the vibe was right.

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I’ve had an equal number of massages that ended with me getting dressed, saying, “Thank you” and leaving.

My point however is that If we’re not touched, and acknowledged we start to become a little strange. Our needs aren’t being met and we sometimes become antisocial, or extremely needy. I’ve been both, sometimes simultaneously. 

On a subconscious level we know we need social interaction and a subtext to that is that we need to feel the warmth of another person’s touch. Lots of folks use the sterility of the internet to fill the need for interaction. Twitter, Facebook, and the various dating sites or chat applications have made millions of people feel relevant, perhaps even loved. But I think that the folks feeling “loved” because they have a bunch of “Likes” or thousands of followers is demonstrative of a sort of twisted adaptation to feelings of isolation.

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This point has been recently brought home to me. 

I talk to people all day long, I help people and move on to the next person in need. You’d think I’d have enough interaction to feel fulfilled. 

I don’t. 

Those people that I help are ephemeral. They’re just voices on the phone and most of the time they’re very needy. By the time I’m done with my day, I’m tired and really don’t want to talk to anyone else on the phone. So I entertain myself with the TV until it’s time to go to bed to get up and go back to work.

It doesn’t help that I work odd hours and weekends. By the time most people get to work, I’ve already been working 3 or 4 hours. The oddness of my work schedule has advantages and disadvantages.

The advantage is that I usually miss the stupid traffic of the San Diego area. The disadvantage is that I’m home mid-afternoon and “normal” people aren’t available. When “normal” people are available, I’m heading to bed.

When I’m done with my day, I’m tired. It’s more emotionally tired than physical, so it’s easy to be isolated, and allow that isolation to continue.

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I could stop someplace for happy hour but have you spent much time at a bar at 2PM in the afternoon?

Trust me, it isn’t pretty; not the kinds of people you’re likely to meet and develop healthy friendships with. Bars in general are dimly lit for a reason!

Gyms are better but even there, you’re dealing with folks that are probably not going to have time. They’re squeezing in a workout before they go on to the next thing; picking up the kids, heading to work on their own odd schedule, or in some cases just creepy people looking for something else entirely. 

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I’d been going along for months (possibly years off & on) fooling myself into believing that I was OK. Then because I was in some pain I went and had a massage.

Another person touching me slammed into my consciousness like a sledgehammer. I wanted, needed to feel the warmth of another person. I needed to hear that other person breathing and smell them. I needed the full 3D experience and to know that I was, in fact not alone.

A week or so later, I had the distinct pleasure of having a friend visit, and again I was struck by the power of someone else being physically in my space. It was comforting and settling and again hit me upside the head that I’d been too isolated for too long.

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A few nights later, I went out with a coworker that I enjoy being around. We had drinks, ate and laughed. I realized that even simple (non-work) interactions are very satisfying, while not very intimate or sexual, its far better than the cold interaction of words or pictures on a display.

All of this brings home two undeniable points. It’s not good to be isolated, especially in a crowd. And I need to find another job that pays better and is not on such an isolating schedule.

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All of this is to say; if you’re feeling isolated, or lonely, turning to the internet is probably not the healthiest source of “connection”.  Close the laptop, put the phone down, and turn off the TV. That’s what I’m going to be doing and hopefully I’ll be able to provide some pointers to finding something fulfilling over the next few months.

Okay, Enough!

The cold from hell is still hanging on.

It’s to the point now that if I’m on the mend, I feel like increasing my activity and then it comes back.

I’m in bed again coughing my fool head off, with a slight fever.

Whatever this bug is, it’s a stone bitch. It’s not like I’ve been doing a lot of stuff. It doesn’t take much at all to cause a set back.

If you’ve got this thing take it easy and give yourself time to heal.

I’m hoping that this weekend is the last weekend I have to put up with this crap. The other half is in worse shape than I am. I keep expecting to see a lung laying on the floor.


When I picked up my car the other day I saw a brand new 4 series that was honestly sex on wheels.

I went to the BMW site and built one for me. Uhh, WOW am I expensive! I noticed that automatic transmission was apparently the only option for the machine.

On a related note, when I returned the loaner car it was shifting much better. I think the transmission just needed to have more than 100 miles on it.

I’m still not a fan of automatic transmissions but I could break my rule for a new 4 series convertible. Maybe I should start a gofundme page?

Hope you have a great weekend.

The cold from hell is finally abating

For those of you that have The Cold. I give you hope. The light you see glimmering at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily an oncoming train or “The Light” you’re supposed to go into when you die.

After two weeks of misery, today I’m finally feeling more like my old self.

This has been the worst cold or flu I’ve had in many years. And to add a little spice and variety to the wonder that the virus brought into my life. The damn thing was morphing as it progressed. It’s a tease too, I’d start to feel better, then wham! A whole new set of symptoms. Then about the time my body would get a handle on those symptoms, pow! Something completely new.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve been chilled to the bone with my teeth chattering in a sleeping bag, while the ambient temp in the house was 70° F. I spent a couple of days where I was too hot with the temp in the house at 65° F. I’ve had my joints ache so bad it was agony to move my legs. That was followed up with body wide cramping of all my muscles. Through it all, my sinuses were producing all manner of gothic horrors (I had a club handy just in case the kleenex started moving!) and the coughing and hacking left my already painful ribcage feeling like I’d been in a violent car accident.

How do I know I’m on the mend? The same way every man knows they’re getting over something… I’m thinking really dirty thoughts and want to just get NASTY.

Ladies, that’s the way we work… As we get sick we want to screw because we know we’ll feel better for a little while and if whatever we’re coming down with kills us, well at least we went out on a good note.

All men want to have an unseemly grin on our faces in our caskets. I personally want to have a dirty smirk so locked on my face that my mother would blush and my spouse can’t have it jackhammered off. I want my last hurrah to be etched on my face and so dirty that folks seriously consider a closed casket. For the sake of the children, don’t ya know.

Once we survive the disease, we want to screw to declare to the world that we’re awesome, victorious, and our genes are worthy. Besides it makes us feel better. ( are you seein a theme here?) Ya just have to picture a big silver back gorilla and you’ve got a snapshot of us and what makes us tick.

So, I’m off to pound my chest, or whatever else seems appealing.

Don’t give up hope, The Cold doesn’t last forever.

It just seems that way.

Balls!

The only good thing about being sick and running a fever is that the boys are hanging really low. Ironically, while the presentation is porn worthy, I have zero desire to engage in sexual activities.

TMI?

Probably!

I’ve spent the past 12 hours running high fevers, and generally napping in bed. At the moment, I feel a lot better. Either I cooked the germs… or my brain. I’m up at 3:00 letting the dog out and having myself a nice cup of tea.

Being up at this hour has it’s advantages. All my internet access is in the bonus time, the house is quiet and every once in a while you see something that you would have missed because you were asleep.

Tonight, I got to watch the moon set. When I first got up the moon, (It was full or dang near full) illuminated the deck and the trees so well that I could see everything in the back yard. While I was waiting for the dog to finish his thing, the moon started dipping below the mountain to the west and so I stood on the deck for a few minutes and watched.

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I skimmed the news, waiting for dog #2 who is always on his own schedule to do his thing outside. I see the world continues to be an insane place. Lately it’s become laughable. Below are the items that jumped off the page at me

Yoga banned at a college (Honestly, I’ve got nothing… Tempest in a teakettle.)

Expressing your opinion at many colleges is now considered hate speech (Only if your opinion differs from the group consensus. The little snowflakes heads would explode if they read this blog)

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Eating Ethnic food is racist (I don’t know if this is only if you’re white or if eating food with ethnic origins different from yours is racist regardless of your skin color)

5 people have been shot… at a protest about a guy getting shot (Some media claim white supremacists were the shooters. Really? The media needs to look up the definition of white supremacist. Just because someone happens to be white doesn’t mean they’re a supremacist.)

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Clock Boy is butthurt and demanding 15 million to make him feel better. (Weren’t he & his family moving to Qatar?)

Gender specificity in stores like Target and Toys R Us is wrong. So where do I look for jock straps, and catcher’s cups? Just askin…

My cup of tea is finished, time to go back to bed.

It appears that I am going to die… just not today, and not from this cold.