Author: wwducat

About: Writer, Technology guy, Photographer, Possibly EX-Software QA Engineer, Worker Bee. Interests: SCUBA, Working out, Friends, New Views, New Vistas, Photography
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Restless…

My eyes open. Something has disturbed my sleep, I listen for any strange sound.

Crickets and wind.

The house is illuminated enough for me to see clearly. Tell tales and indicator lights on every single piece of electronics combine to create a kaleidoscope of light. 

The green indicator on the smoke detector on the ceiling winks red briefly. This potentially signals dust in the unit or time to replace the battery, I’ll have to service the unit tomorrow… today.

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The intense red light on the bedroom TV tells me that the unit is off but has power from the wall. I wonder if I can turn that light off then worry about the TV having wall power if it doesn’t come on when I press the switch.

I’m informed by the bedside clock, that it’s 2am in full color and that the unit had been able to sync to the atomic time beacon. The clocks EL panel flares brightly as it comes back on. During the sync, the panel is turned off so that the clock can “hear” the beacon better.

I get out of bed, I need some water. 

Green light from the hall smoke detector paints a circle on the floor lighting my way to the kitchen.

The kitchen is illuminated by the clocks in the stove and the microwave. Further illumination is provided by the EL panel in the alarm system keypad.

Yet more light spills from the living room, a byproduct of a digital picture frame. I get a glass, as I press the glass against the water dispenser in the door of the fridge, bright white LEDs flare to life blinding me momentarily.

Impulsively I switch off the digital picture frame… it’s ever changing images are annoying out of the corner of my eye.

The darkness advances a little bit but is beaten back by the clock in the cable box, the backlight of the thermostat, and light from the appliances in the kitchen.

I move through the living room drinking my water. From the slider I can see the towns on the desert floor their lights twinkling in the distance.

I grouchily consider replacing the LEDs throughout the house with simple diodes. If something doesn’t work then I’ll investigate why.

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Why are we so afraid of the dark? Why can’t we turn off the lights on our ever so helpful equipment?

Maybe it’s just me… I’ve always had great night vision, maybe all these indicators and tell tales aren’t annoying to most other folks.

Then, I notice the moonlight. The cloud cover has broken, moonlight is bright in the yard. I step onto the deck. No one can see me, looking to the East over the roof I can see the moon is almost full.

It somehow feels right to be in the moonlight. I can see clearly and while I’m a little chilly It’s nice to have a moment of freedom.

Still don’t know what woke me up. 

I finish my water, look around for a little while longer, then head back inside.

My head hits the pillow, and I sleep soundly till sunrise.

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It’s been a rough week, The eldest dog died.

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As I mentioned elsewhere, I’ve been dealing with a very sick dog.

Thursday night the poor guy started regular seizures about every 3 to 4 hours. With each seizure he got weaker, and lost more control over his legs and body, in the end he was completely blind. 

Whatever was going on was major. Just as we panic when our bodies betray us, so do dogs.

In the end he was panicked so much that we couldn’t get him to calm down before the next seizure hit. 

The other dog was frightened too. His health is good but he knew something was seriously wrong with his buddy.

Friday morning the seizures were coming faster and we knew it was the end, and time to let him go. 

The vet did a quick exam to see if there was anything to be done aside from euthanasia.

The opinion of the Vet and the Technician who’ve know the dogs all their lives was it was time. All that could be done, had been done and while the dog was between seizures and relatively calm & comfortable it was best to do him a mercy.

So my family is down to three.

I’ve been spending a lot of time on the floor and setting aside whatever I’m doing to reassure and comfort the remaining dog.

They escaped an abusive household together 9 years ago. They wouldn’t be separated at the animal shelter (They’d both stop eating) We adopted them both, and never separated them.

I’ve been watching carefully to make sure that S. (I’m not using his full name. I’d prefer he barked at you if he doesn’t know you) is eating properly and not getting too depressed.

He is boycotting all the dog cushions. I think it’s because we were having to rotate the cushions and their covers after each seizure and “His” cushion got used repeatedly by our sick guy.

Hopefully that will pass & he’ll decide it’s ok to use the soft cushions instead of the floor. 

He doesn’t seem to be looking for his buddy per se, but he’s acting a little lonely. 

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I scheduled a quick grooming for him Friday afternoon, (He really likes the groomer) that took his mind off all that had been going on Thursday evening & Friday morning.

When we got home, he was confused at the absence of his friend. Eventually he laid down on a cool spot and got some deep restful sleep. 

Eventually, I laid down on the bed, within a few minutes I was being nuzzled then there was a big sigh as he snuggled next to my chest. He’s always done this when he’s upset, sick, or hurt. We slept like that for about 3 hours.

Several years ago after the fire here at the house, these two dogs pulled us through some really dark and tough times. 

One of the things that they helped us with was priorities. Or responsibilities to them always came first. In return, they gave us boundless love and attention. Sometimes it was as simple as nuzzling a foot, or leaping on the bed in the morning with a toy that got dropped on my head. Their needs focused our attention on what was important.

All the rest of it was just noise.

I find myself in that same space. S. needs attention and concern. We’ve been walking in the mornings during the past couple of weeks (we used to walk in the afternoons with his buddy.) He’s enjoying the exercise, as am I. 

Over the past weeks he’d accepted that his buddy couldn’t be with us on these outings.

He forgot this morning that B. wasn’t here at all and went looking for him in the yard and all the rooms of the house. You could almost see the realization as S. couldn’t find B.

S. had gotten in the habit of coming back from a walk and then telling B. all about it.

It was one of those ‘gotcha’ moments that bring a tear to your eye. 

I just cuddled S. and told him it was OK, He’s a good boy.

The telltale to his being upset and depressed, was that he didn’t want his after walk treat.

We’ll all get through this it’s just going to take time.

B., you were a great dog, I miss you.(Yes, even your snoring like a freight train.) I pray that you’re playing with other dogs somewhere in a sunlit grassy field. 

Here are a couple of PDFs friends have sent with loving, comforting, emails. B. was a sweet dog and even those who were afraid of larger dogs loved him.

Pet Death.pdf

Rainbow Bridge.pdf

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And in other news…

In another case of “I’m not going to be responsible for my actions” a man in Tennessee is suing Apple for his online porn addiction. I saw a news piece on this the other day and thought it was a joke… Apparently not!

Here is a link to the article in Time

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The short version is that this idiot, instead of accepting responsibility for his own actions. Has decided to tie up the courts time because he can’t keep his hands off his PeePee, or his eyeballs off the naughty websites via his internet connected device.

More properly he should blame Apple, his internet provider, and the porn sites themselves. My guess is that he was using his iPhone from Sprint or AT&T surfing porn all the time and has decided to blame Apple for his problem instead of just owning it.

But Apple is the richest most easily identifiable target, especially if you’re hoping for a big out of court settlement.

He says that Apple should install a content filter in it’s browser to block all internet porn. But says nothing of other browsers like Internet Explorer, Firefox, Chrome, etc. This leads me to believe that he’s after nothing more than a big settlement. Why hasn’t he named Microsoft in his suit, or the United States Government, or CERN for creating the technology that is responsible for fueling his addiction?

Porn sites ask if you’re 18, if the site is a pay site they use your credit card to verify it. 

This guys “Content Filter” is an impossible dream. The sites change URLs so often that even services specifically designed to locate and put these sites in a blacklist database can’t keep up. These services are 100% dedicated to the task 24/7 and still fail to catch all the sites.

The only way to effectively insure that someone acknowledges the “Dangers of internet porn” is to ship every device with a disabled browser. Then force the customer to go to the additional step of getting an unlock code.

Which by the way, wouldn’t have stopped this guy from engaging in his addiction. 

Do you know you’re going to be an alcoholic before you have your first drink?

By this guys logic all alcoholic beverage manufacturers should require that you sign a declaration of understanding that you might become addicted to their product. Imagine the fun that would be. Signing something every time you tried a new beer.

I’m hoping that this guy gets thrown in jail for contempt of court, and wasting the courts time.

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I fucking HATE drama!

NewImageI’ve got a very sick dog, He’s probably dying. That’s stressful enough. 

Then this neighbor who asks the same fucking question the same fucking way every fucking time I see him, “How are the dogs?” 8 Years!!!! Same Bullshit question 8 years of the same conversation that always ends where he says “They’re good dogs” but hasn’t heard anything I said.

Well this guy, wasn’t satisfied with my answer when I said the dogs are fine… interrupting the rest of my reply arguing “I thought the one was dyyyyyyyyiiiiiiinnnnnnng” in an annoyingly whiney voice that is like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Then he got mad at me because I stopped talking after he interrupted me. Then I’m being ranted at where he’s saying “FINE I won’t ask again!“

First of all I don’t understand why I’m being ranted at, and second of all I don’t have to fucking take it.

FUCK!! FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITY! FUCK!

I am so tired of people getting pissed off at me for no god-damed reason. If you fucking interrupt my reply to you obviously don’t want to hear the answer nor do you want me to think about what I’m going to tell you.

I’m sick to death of being on the receiving end of someone else’s bullshit.

You know, I try to be a good guy, I try to be reasonable, and I try really hard to see the other persons point of view. I’m starting to wonder if that’s the problem… Maybe I should just stop trying.

I just want to be able to live my life. 

Increasingly I’m beginning to wonder if  my ability to do that is, at minimum not in this town. At maximum it’s not in this state. 

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Another Sleepless night…

ImagesNaked, I move through the house.  I pull a short glass from the cupboard… Ice, the smell of Whiskey as I pour myself a drink.

Leaden colored sky is visible outside. I can remember when the sky here was black and the constellations fought with the edge of the Milky Way for my attention.

Twinkling lights on the desert floor tell the sad truth. Civilization has caught up with me. The sea of humans has surrounded my Island of peace and quiet. Soon the view of the stars will be completely blotted out except in power failures. The desert going dark is unlikely with the computer control of the electrical grid.

Breeze feels good as I scratch my sack. Another slug of Whiskey, warm glow spreading from my gut. Sad about the stars… 

I’ve tossed and turned for the past two hours but sleep has evaded me. Normally I’d have anesthetized myself by engaging in oldest and most  primal of activities, falling asleep sweaty, sticky, and drugged by the frantic, satisfying release of my own endorphins. Somehow I just can’t get into the head space for that to be any fun.

I’m caged. Caged by thoughts unbidden, desires unfulfilled. Caged like an animal by a cacophony of noise in my head. 

I’m tired, exhausted in fact.

The Whiskey is good. I’m reminded of Hemingway.

He was a drinker too. My puerile prose is pig shit compared to his. Self doubt and fear well up inside me.

Two words explode into my conscience.

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Eight Months

It takes me a minute to figure out what that means. Another sip of Whiskey, then it hits me.

Eight months ago a thoughtless child who wanted to be treated like a man left my house and I’ve heard not one word from him since then. Until recently…

What I do hear is “I want to clear the air“

What air? There’s nothing to clear, nothing more to be said. I told him that there are consequences to his actions.

IF you lie, people will eventually lose faith in your words and will become mistrustful of you. He lied repeatedly. His lies weren’t even over big issues he lied about  the most inconsequential of things. 

The lies told eight months ago, placed me at odds with his Dad. I felt relief when he left, at least I wasn’t going to have to continue to waste energy puzzling out what was real and what wasn’t. Where he was really going and where he’d wanted me to think he was. In the end it didn’t matter. His Dad still held me responsible for not keeping a lid on the child. He was 18… legally an adult what was I expected to do? Ground him? 

I’ve mourned the loss, gotten over the anger, stopped asking questions for which I’ll never have answers and gotten on with my life. In honesty I say that I’m done. (Or rather I was done.)

Why should we waste each others time with another tearful apology that I can’t help but be suspicious of. How is he trying to manipulate me? What angle is he working? What more drama am I going to be sucked into?

Then I know the answer. His Dad is once again angry with me because I’m unwilling to “Clear Air” which doesn’t need to be cleared. I’m the bad guy… Again…  Wheeeee! Another trip on the drama merry go round! 

I hope that this child realizes just how much love his Dad has for him. I pray that he’s not manipulating and trading on his Fathers love, because it would break my heart to see his Dad’s heart broken again. Regardless of the state of our friendship I don’t want to see the Man hurt by a manipulative child.

I’ve probably lost a friend. Sleep is hard won for me because I’m mourning that loss too. I’m angry at the child for not just leaving will enough alone. 

I can’t apologize for being who I am. I can’t nod and say “there there”, when I’m convinced that my forgiveness is simply another ploy so that I can be used again. I’ve already heard way too many of those apologies, they led to many fights with my Significant Other and  Eight Months of complete silence.

Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, You’d think if I was important there’d have at least been a text message however ingenuine saying, “Happy <Insert Holiday Here>”

But here I am. The wound reopened because the child wants to clear his conscience or at least to go through the motions. Now though,  I’ve got a fresh wound and an irreparably damaged possibly dying friendship to boot.

At least I understand one of the elements causing sleep to flee before me.

Odd how putting that on even metaphorical paper is like pulling a splinter out of my brain. 

Time to pour another glass.

3AM

My Mom is just waking up on the East Cost.

A cloud has just come across from the South West bringing with it a light shower. The last of the visible stars in the East have been obstructed. 

It’s a fair trade.

The smell of rain is comforting to me. The heavy drops on the roof and pinging off the deck rails is welcome, maybe it will last long enough to lull me to sleep.

I’m worried about getting a job. Not that I don’t want a job but that I can’t seem to get hired. The monsters of my past and fear of a future where I can’t pay my bills form a Mobius of approximately 30 years. 

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That’s a distasteful thought. That the cycles of my life are 30 years of struggle, hard work, sweat, and tears where I reach a modicum of success followed by a precipitous fall losing everything, only to start over again.

Suddenly I really miss smoking. The Whiskey is making me feel better.

I’d love to be laying here in bed listening to the rain breaking all the rules. smoking, drinking, naked windows wide open, carving a brief respite from the chaos of my thoughts.

I’ll take this as it is right now. I’m not asking for anything more.

Time to turn the computer off and just breathe.