The Horror 6 comments

Posted by grampa in health,the real shit (Thursday January 10, 2008 at 3:03 pm)

I’m currently detoxing from sleep meds, after nearly fourteen months of continuous use.  I had to start taking them when I was on the interferon, but I figured that it was time to get off.

I’m still able to work, but part of this feeling is similar to that of heroin withdrawal - you get the whole body shakes, the hot/cold flashes, the multiple sneezes/runny nose, the general lethargy and I’m restless, irritable and discontent. The only thing really missing is the aching bones and constant diarrhea.

I’m able to work and live, but just feel generally like shit  But I’ve been much, much worse.  I also know that it won’t last very long.  The hardest part – is not drinking coffee after noon to “try and develop healthy sleep habits.” 

Yeah, we’ll see how long that fuck’n lasts.  The first day I can’t drag my sorry ass to the gym after work, that shit’s out the window.

The sickest part of the whole experience – it’s like a familiar misery.  I remember this feeling from jonesing for dope.  It brings back memories, some good, others quite tragic.  It’s like hooking up with an old girlfriend who is a fantastic fuck but every waking moment with the bitch is pure hell.

But, I made four years clean and sober on December 12th, so that’s something.

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Calling MadMartigan 0 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Monday January 7, 2008 at 11:42 pm)

Dude, if you still read this, check in, will ya?  People are starting to worry and, though I’m sure you’re probably okay, please give me a yell.

Don’t make me come to Maui and find you with Ringo, that drunk, gay doctor, who’s farm you’re working on.  It’s like you’ve disappeared and “Well, that seems to be the situation. But I don’t want that. And you don’t want that. And Ringo here *definitely* doesn’t want that.”

Call me, fucker.

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Let Us Give Thanks And Remember 13 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Thursday November 22, 2007 at 3:53 pm)

Today is traditionally a day when we are supposed to give thanks for all of the bounty and joy in our lives.  And it’s been a very good year for many of us.  So, enjoy, everyone and appreciate the love and good fortune that have come into your lives and remember, nothing worth having is easy to get and it’s even harder to keep.

However, not everyone is as lucky as many of us.  Many of those who were with us even five or ten years ago have succumbed, for whatever reason, and are no longer here to enjoy this day of gratitude.

This morning I got an email from my dear childhood friend Invincible.  He broke the word to me that a member of that once mighty group known as the Pennsylvania Wrecking Crew to some and the Lysergic Terrorists to others, has passed on.  Back then we truly thought that we were invincible, ten feet tall and bulletproof, but I am living proof that we are not.  So is Steve, who is with us no more.  I wish that I could say that he was the only one of us who is no longer here, but the sad fact is that we have lost many good brothers and sisters in the intervening years.  I hadn’t spoken to him in a long time, but I’m sure that the world is a bit darker for his passing.

Bow your heads, my friends, in a moment of silence for the man we once affectionately referred to as Lardass.  He was found dead in his apartment last night.  I have no further details, but I know that he was a couple of years younger than me, so that makes him dead at 33.

On this day of gratitude, let us not forget those that have gone before us.  Let us bring them back into our lives, if only for a moment, and remember them and wish them well on the long journey to I know not where. 

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You know here in the worst I will become the best of them all 8 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Tuesday November 13, 2007 at 1:55 pm)

I’ve been gone a long time, I know this.  To borrow the words from the last poem that my father ever wrote, there was a time that I thought “the muse was dead and the mermaids had stopped their singing.” 

I was wrong.  I’ve been writing a lot, lately, just not here.  I’ve had to work through some very painful personal issues and I just wasn’t ready to share them.  It’s been a long time since I sat down with a note pad and wrote the ink out of a new pen, but I’ve done that several times in the past few weeks.

Perhaps it is because my hard-drive crashed a couple of months back and I lost everything that I had written in the last 3.5 years, save for a few scraps that I had the foresight to print.  Perhaps when dealing with personal things, I need the feel of the paper, the drag of the pen, to truly allow my thoughts to come forth.  I think, though, that it is because when I have this handwritten thing in front of me, the hundreds of pages crammed with my words, I can feel the tangibility of my life, my past, and know that it was all worth something, if only to me.

There was a time that I felt nothing.  There was a time when the only feelings that I had came from something I crammed into my veins.  I have the ability to turn it all off and become cold and empty, almost at will.  But I cannot allow myself to do that today.   Today I have to feel my feelings, whether I like them or not.  The way I see it, if I shut off my feelings and shut out the world, I might as well be using again.  And if I’m using again, I might as well be dead.

I’m coming out of a great darkness, the kind of darkness that follows staring at a brilliant light.  A sorrow that only has meaning when contemplated next to the immeasurable joy that preceded it.  Perhaps I did fly too close to the sun and I should have known better.  The fall from the heights nearly broke me.  But I’m not sorry.  I emerge from this a better man and, though it took me a few moments to regain my wings, I’ll be soaring back towards the sun in no time.

Thank you for your kind words, father.  Our conversation helped me more than you’ll ever know.  While for you the Muse is dead, know that she lives on within your son.  She is out there on the horizon, beckoning me onward.  I know not where she’ll lead, but I once again have the will to carry on.

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Fuck Bringing Sexy Back, Bring Back the Bitter 23 comments

Posted by grampa in dating,grampa's handy-dandy rules for living,I am full of love,the real shit (Wednesday September 12, 2007 at 12:15 am)

You know, sometimes I wonder while I even allow myself to believe in the illusion that I can ever be truly happy.  I mean, shit, I know that I’m better off a bitter, cynical bastard.

Shame on me for thinking that it could ever be any other way.

That’s right, kids, Girl 2007.1 is now a smoking ash-heap. 

But, with the illusion of happiness draining away, I now feel the creative juices of spite and sarcasm boiling in my blood once again.  I’m back, bitches.

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Independence Day 10 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Wednesday July 4, 2007 at 9:54 pm)

So I really haven’t ever figured out how to spend this particular day.  I have a long, sordid history with Independence Day.  When I was a practicing addict, this was my biggest using holiday.  I’ve gotten better about things in the past few years but, inevitably, as the sun goes down and the fireworks start going off, when the smell of sulfur starts wafting through the breeze accompanied by the joyous shrieks of children, I get transported back in time.

My recollections of the 4th of July’s past contain many memories.  I think back to fallen friends and past lives – where the highs were sheerly majestic and the lows were way to low.  I can’t help but feel melancholy for those that aren’t here to see today.  Nor can I help but laughing at the memories of days gone by.

So tonight, as I sit my solitary (by choice) vigil, straddling the past and future, know that all of you, either near or far, live or dead, are in my thoughts and that the future, though frought with peril, is still bright and beckoning.


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R.I.P. 1 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Thursday April 12, 2007 at 8:27 am)

Kurt Vonnegut

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You Are About To Witness The Strenf Of Street Knowledge 0 comments

Posted by grampa in the real shit (Friday March 30, 2007 at 11:24 pm)

Holy crap.  Sean Penn brings the noise.

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My Hemingway Moment 6 comments

Posted by grampa in dating,the real shit (Monday February 5, 2007 at 4:34 pm)

I’ve learned throughout my life that there are certain types of moments one can experience.  Unfortunately, for someone such as myself who has a propensity to borrow trouble from the future (as my dear great gramma Vetter used to say) sometimes I’m not always aware of them.

One of these is that proverbial life-changing event.  I find that this one is always much easier to spot in retrospect, as these moments are usually subtle and not always particularly noticeable at the time.  Especially when one is caught in maelstrom of current events.  However, when I look back at my life, I can see certain events which, though they didn’t seem so at the time, marked a decisive shift in my life, a Rubicon if you will, regardless of the manner in which the change occurred.

I have to admit, that I have a lot “missing moments” in my years of hazy, drug-induced living.  Some of them are only clear to me in the retrospect, as I’ve described above.  Memories of some moments swim into my consciousness several years after the fact and, I’m certain, some are gone forever.  That’s the price one pays.  That being said, I wouldn’t change a thing.  I’m not sorry.  I am of the opinion that, if the moment was valuable enough for remembrance, then it should have been part of the Darwinian process of brain cell retention.

My favorite kind of moment, by far, is what I like to call the Hemingway moment.  These are those times which, for me, I feel most alive and I am, truly, wholly in the moment.  Times when the past and future cease to exist.  At the absolute best of these times, I can sense a clarity of knowing, whether it be a life-changing event or not, that this moment is something that will be one of those that stays with me for the rest of my life.

An example of this is October 15, 2006 at 7:07 a.m.  I was in bed, having sex with my girlfriend (Girl 2006.2 for those of you keeping score).  I was propped up on my arms, she had her legs around me.

Then, it happened.

The earth started shaking.  It was a minor earthquake.  I thought that it was just one of the little 4 pointers that we always get out here.  The bed shook for a few seconds, and I looked into her eyes and said “Did the Earth move for you, too?”  And she looked at me with almost childlike fascination and nodded her head and smiled.

Then she pinched my nipple really hard and we returned to the business at hand.

But, it wasn’t just a little 4 pointer after all.  A few seconds later the earth really started going when the 6.7 quake hit.  My bookshelves started disgorging their contents and my closet shelves did the same.  The bed started skidding across the floor.  Contrary to all wisdom about going outside or getting into a door frame, we stayed right where we were, engaged in the moment until its climax.

The earthquake eventually ended, too.

Later, as we were preparing breakfast, I said to her, referring to our budding relationship, “Baby, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I’ll remember you forever.”

The earthquake and the girl are both long gone at this point.  The last thing that I ever said to her was “Had I known then what I know now, I’d still do it all over again.” 

I meant every word.  And while, in the months following her departure from my life, the memories of the scent of her perfume and the touch of her skin on mine sporadically make me wish that she was still around, I remember my Hemingway moment and I realize that, even if the price is a couple of months filled with intermittent pangs of loss, I know with absolute certainty that it is moments like this that make life worth living. 

Still, I wish I would have tied her to the bed one more time before she slipped away.

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Even At Our Worst, We’re Still Better Than Most 17 comments

Posted by grampa in family,health,I am full of love,the real shit (Tuesday December 19, 2006 at 8:59 pm)

For my own personal reasons, I now measure years from December 12 so I’m glad to say that 2006 is officially over.  Good riddance.

Let us recap, shall we?


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