It was slow at work today. I was there alone. A man came in - a young man in maybe his mid-thirties (only a little older than me) - and began looking around.

I had nodded to him and he nodded back. Soon he was looking at the display I was sitting near. He was turned sideways from me, peering down at it but clearly not LOOKING at it. He had me fixed in a sort of peripheral star...looking nervous. I could tell he was trying to get up the nerve to say something.

"Need some help?" I said.

"NO."

He stared at the display a little longer, then said: "How long you been in a wheelchair?"

"'Bout ten years." I said.

"How'd it happen?"

I said "car wreck", but that's a lie. Over the years I've come to hate casually talking about all of that. Not that it's painful, it's just seems too personal. It's also disappointing when the other person answers this with "well, you just have to go on" or stories of their own physical problems. It's like they have to come up with their own hand to play against my unfair advantage. You start to feel ashamed of it. It's better to be sad and be quiet, as Shakespeare said. People call it being brave.

The young man seemed to be confused by my short answer. I could tell he wanted me to open up, so then he could. I couldn't, though.

Eventually, he took a breath, still staring at the display and not at me, and said, "I've got a brain tumor. The doctor gave me a year to live [he smiled, sadly and wickedly], that was 6 months ago."

I couldn't even answer him. I looked at him apologetically and shook my head. He gave me that same smile, nodded his head, and turned and walked off.

It's not that he had trumped me, I've been trumped before. It's that reason I failed him is that I've killed something off in myself. It's a price I paid willingly, I'm just sorry for him.

In the play, the answer to that "good to be sad and quiet" line is: "then it is good to be a post."

I am sitting here in awe, totally speechless.

[email protected]

looking forward to moving to Boston next month. Driving is horrible. I can't wait to be one of the masses on public transportation. I remember a time when I used to look forward to getting up every morning and driving. In fact, my friends and I used to drive all the time. One night, we got bored and drove to Indianapolis. We told our parents that we were staying at each others houses. It worked out so splendidly, that a few months later we drove to Chattanooga. (sp?) That was fun. Just driving all night, having a good time. Lately, however, the strain has taken its toll on me. Driving about 30 minutes to work everyday, then to whatever band is practicing that night, which coincedentally is also usually about 30 minutes away, then back home another 30 minutes. It isn't the time spent in the car that bothers me. It is the other fucking idiots on the road. For those of you who live in major metropolitan areas, this may be no big deal, but out here in the country its fairly unusual. Last night, I was in a line of 3 cars travelling down this country road in speeds exceeding 75 mph. I don't usually drive like that, I was just kinda having fun. Something happened and the lead car stopped. Then the rest stopped. As I was stopping, my brakes locked, and I slid. Well, the guy in front of me, (who was driving this Mazda Miata convertable,) started cussing me and so on. I didn't hit him. I didn't come close. The road was wet, so I just slid, there was no skid involved. I downshifted until the car came to a stop. Well, anyway, he started cussing me, and so I was politely returning the favor. He got tired of it, and returned to staring out the window. I kept honking at him, and honking, and when he finally looked back, I gave him a friendly gestured with one of my beautiful fingers. He got out of his car, (this road by the way, is the major pipeline between my home city and work city. It is only one lane in each direction. If I had to guess, I would say that about 3500 people drive on this road daily. For this area, it is a major road.) So he got out of his car and started walking back toward my car. I noticed what he was doing, so I started to back up a little. As he was walking toward the car, I started revving the engine, and slowly rolled in his direction. I had my window down, and he was yelling at me to get out of the car. I just laughed and laughed. So I drove around his car, and continued on my way. At this point, we were about a block from my house, and I didn't want this highly irate man following me to my house, so I kept driving, thinking that if he wanted follow me, I would just drive to the police station. I figured that would piss him off. Well, we were going along, I was travelling about 55mph, and I see him turn. I freaked out, because I thought that he pulled into some rental property that my parents had for sale. In the end, he went to visit the neighbors to that property. Long story, eh? Well, I'm not finished. Today, this woman in a yuppie bus disregarded a stop sign and came within inches of hitting me. Today I was in my truck, and it has 190,000 miles on it, and has been wrecked twice already. Did I mention that it is a 1992?? Anyway, she starts cussing at me because she disregarded a stop sign. So what I am saying is that I can't wait to get to Boston next month and enjoy public transportation. Thank you for your time and attention.

http://listen.to/ryan

thinking that he should take a trip to PA this weekend and visit ma and pa at the homestead. i'll chow down mom's shrimp and crabmeat curry and roti and suck down pop's samuel adams. pops and i will talk about whatever while the news rambles in the background and mom will prepare a care-package twice my own weight for me to take back to the city. later on she'll drop comments about all the nice west indian women in brooklyn and that i should settle down with one of them. then she'll smile and say "i don't really care who you bring home just as long as they make you happy." i'll play my dad's favorite song on the piano and watch for that angelic smile that lights up his face. the living and dining room are both filled with plants and small trees of all varieties; it's like a rainforest in there... relaxing.

after they go to bed i'll head up to the attic to claim the prize i've been thinking about for several weeks now...

the atari 2600 w/ 30-40 cartridges.

yeah.

i hope i can find "kaboom".

7/16/98, 9:06 PM
sarah is:

having a perfect day up until about 5 minutes ago. had a successful meeting this morning. took a long, late lunch at a nice restaurant with a good friend. got some stuff organized.

sort of.

actually, it made acutely aware that i'm not at all organized. actually, i'm way behind at work. and i just got a call from the president of my investment partnership and they want to kick me out for lack of attendance. damn.

what the fuck. i can't really afford it, but i might as well just take this next vacation and try not to feel guilty about it. i'll just chalk it up to chronic irresponsibility. life goes on.

right?

[email protected]

Watching a guy unload 5 big bags of generic cat litter and take them into his apartment building. He lives in the same building I do. Pet's aren't allowed.

Why do I have the the music from Unsolved Mysteries going through my head?

I'm traing to see you but I can't see anything.I'm writing from Italy.Your web is one of the best I've never seen.Ciao Francesco

[email protected]

Telling Quidam that kitty litter is damned useful in the winter snow & ice for traction. Cheaper than sand and salt too. Maybe it went on sale and he's stocking up.

*grin*

[email protected]

Refusing to jump into the shower before I've had my daily dose of SORABJI. *sucking down my coffee* Nothing makes my morning like checking out the posts. As to "me"...I was married to a man in a wheelchair. I think I know where you are coming from, as a second person. The stares, the questionning looks. Sometimes I just wanted them to ask, other times I felt like spitting on them. *shrug* More on this later....now I'm running seriously late.

http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/Village/3124

d r a i n b r a m a g e d

"having a life" like my boss told me to.

Not having a cow, like MY boss told me to... It happens to everyone... :)

http://www.fortunecity.com/marina/seafarer/115

I think I know how Blindswine felt about his Atari 2600. I just found out my parents kept my Commodore 64.

Score.

I can't wait to pick it up. I sure hope the power supply still works.

Saying Hi!!! Right on with the Atari! I use to play 16bit Nitendo with my cousins up in Minn, and then these guys I met in college had one and they'd play Contra on it all the time...memories! ;)

So...besids that I wanted to say HI to Kymical! "HI. KYMICAL!"

[email protected]

taking advantage of the early morning hours to go out and mow the lawn before the heat of the day sets on us. Nothing like 80 degrees at 9:00 in the morning. Happy Saturday everybody!!!

http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/Village/3124

My inbox is filled with these "international driver's license" ads or entreaties or whatever they are. Does anybody else get these? Are they for real?

deep undercover.

i'm going to drink a beer and then go out stealing car stereos.

message boards (mingle/stalk) are down today. service upgrade. an upgrade which i appear to have fucked up royally

fine. and you?

[email protected]

listening to stories about horse-thieves and escapees from debtor's prison.

wishing he could have gone back to PA so he could sit down and pump the 'rents for information about my caribbean pirate ancestry.

maybe next weekend.

by the way...

where's reamer?

7/18/98, 7:14 PM
Jim aka PajamaBoy is:

trying to decide if I want to become one of those annoying telemarketers. I was a damn good seller with the phone company, but that was all customers calling me, not vice versa.

[email protected]

declaring to the world that I for one hate telemarketers and hope to God that Jim doesn't go through with it.

[email protected]
http://24.92.13.73