Giving Thanks

I don't know what it is... I always get this depressed feeling that overcomes me on holidays.  I feel blah whether there are people around or not.  It's just something that happens, and I've learned to just give in to it and get the day over.  Since my Mom passed December of '94, followed by my Uncle, Aunt and my dog, all in the month of December, the holidays aren't a great time for me in general.  And other than going to my past boyfriend's family get-togethers over the years and, more recently, my friend Robin's house for dinner, my Dad and I just try to get through the day.  Sometimes he'll cook for us... and when I say cook, I mean open up a package of broccoli in fake cheddar sauce, a can of corn, some Stove-Top stuffing, some pop-n-fresh biscuits and a small pre-cooked ham in a can.  The only thing missing is a plate of stacked toast and a basket of popcorn, and it's a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.  Oh well, it's simple and it gives him something to do, and I'm fortunate to still have him with me, so I appreciate these times as if they were borrowed.  After supper (which is usually around noon because he has nothing else to do so he starts cooking at 9am), he'll go watch some football game and I either go in my room and watch movies or I'll go to the hotel to blow leaves since the parking lot is always empty on Thanksgiving, finishing up the last few days of my landscaping contract for the year, until March when I start all over again.

There's so much hustle and bustle around the holidays.  You spend all this time running around making this huge meal, not to mention all the clean up... and it's scarfed down in 12 minutes... just about the amount of minutes of the football game's half-time... coincidence?... I think not.  In the past, all stores are closed and that makes me claustrophobic.  Like my Aunt, I need to get out of the house every day whether I need anything or not... it just breaks the day up and breaks my cabin fever.  This year, many of the stores have hours on Thanksgiving, which is blasphemous... after sitting down to a family meal giving thanks for what you have, we then camp out and trample others alive to get things that we don't need, all to save a few bucks.  We are a strange bunch, that's for sure.

I remember the holidays when I was younger.  Like good Pittsburghers, everything was cooked in the oven in the basement and most parties took place there as well.  If you're not from here, don't ask why celebrations were held in the basement... they just were... there's no logic to it.  There always seemed to be a foot of snow on the ground and I'd have to go out and shovel a path in the yard for our dog, even though he never actually walked on the path.  When he came inside, I'd have to pick the snowballs out of his fur.  My Aunt and Uncles would come over for Thanksgiving and we'd all sit down in the fancy big table room, one of the few times we'd be allowed in there and not have to eat a meal off a metal TV tray.  Being Italian, most times my Mom would make spaghetti... or ham... which was good she didn't make a turkey because if there's one thing my Mom was really good at, it was making meat dry as fu@k.  I think I still have a pair of loafers made out of her pot roast... leathery and dry.  Thank goodness for applesauce, which I put on top of everything to get it to go down.  There was always black olives, pepperoni and some sort of stinky-ass cheese that my Dad would pick up and they always went in the same bowl or dish, year after year.  The Christmas decorations always went up the Sunday following Thanksgiving and down the day after New Years... and they always went exactly in the same exact spot every year with no deviation.  I would help my Dad make pizzelles as he made smelts at the same time and the house smelled like fish and anise... which, I'm fairly sure, is what my Aunts with the mustaches wore for perfume.  On Christmas eve, I would crawl into my brother's bed and my Mom would sit on the edge and read us The Night Before Christmas.  Now, I just wish that my brother would crawl back under the rock from whence he came.  Times change. 

As you get older, you realize that it wasn't so much about what bowl you used... or what you had for dinner... or where a certain decoration was hung... but, rather, it was about being with your family, as screwed up and dysfunctional as they were.  And as there are fewer and fewer around, you appreciate the ones that you have left... and cherish the memories.

Kiss My Ash

A volcano is usually located upon unstable earth, like where the tectonic plates are rubbing the wrong way.  The friction causes cracks in the surface, breaking it down... and the lava and gases escape from deep down, erupting into a fiery explosion.  Lava spews out and flows downward, destroying everything in it's path.  The toxic gases and ash fill the air, which falls to the ground in a blanket of suffocation, making it impossible for anything to grow until the air clears and the ground can be rehabbed.  And while this is definitely the volcanic process, it's also very much like our coping system in that when we are at our limits... when we are unstable... and rubbed the wrong way... and a situation breaks down... we 'explode' from deep within and spew a wrath of toxic fire and gases, damaging everything in our path, making it impossible to turn back.  Most destructive, though, is the ash fallout, because it leaves us suffocated and gray and dead and choking and empty and stays with us, making it impossible for us to grow and move on.  Sure, the release was fulfilling for a few minutes, but rebuilding is a daunting task, and will take a long time to heal the damage.

I can relate completely to the volcano analogy at this point in my life.  I can't put my finger on when it may have begun for me... perhaps I've always been like this... I'm not sure... it may just be who I am.  But, lately, I've been noticing my increased irritability more and more, not only in my friendships and relationships, but with my family and other social situations as well.  Things like politics and religion are hot buttons for me, but it doesn't take much, no matter what it is, to set me off.  After the last election, I had to purposely not watch anything having to do with politics or the news in general because I had had enough.  Dealing with people's stupidity, ever increasingly, it seems, in this country... with all the hypocrisy, disrespect and injustice that we see every day.  The pressures of the economy and the state of world affairs... dealing with my elder relatives and family... the slow deterioration of my body... and the seeking of a new challenge apart from my current business... all contributing to my fragile state of trying to just survive and for what, I don't know.  My life feels so joyless any more, like I'm just around for the sake of those who benefit from me in some way.  Most of it is like pure torture, just trying to get through each day.

I don't know how to deal with it and what the cure is any more.  In the past, I'd buy a new car, up and move, get a dog, quit a job, date someone new, buy a new outfit, or take a vacation.  That used to work.  Now, I've turned into a bit of a recluse, absolutely loving my time by myself.  Nothing pleases me more than laying in bed by myself watching my progrums, just hoping to not be interrupted and having complete control over the whole situation.  Or do some activity where I can isolate myself from agitation of any kind or people.  This past year, I've removed so many people from my life that were sucking the life out of me, disrespecting me or that were just plain annoying.  My tolerance is so thin.  I know it's not healthy, but I feel trapped.  I'm a volcano, waiting to erupt.  Sometimes I wonder if I'm removing myself from the problems or if I'm the problem.  And while I'm not the angry type that would take it out on someone, least of all physically, I can't deny that it doesn't impact my life and those around me in other ways. 

Perhaps I'm reading too much into it.  I look around on Facebook or the country or the world and see others reacting in the same manner.  There's so much arguing and it seems like everyone is in attack mode, ready to snap someone's head off.  There seems to be a complete break down of manners, social grace, tolerance and just basic humanity.  Instead, it's been replaced with anger and bigotry and hypocrisy and intolerance and hate.  There's so much noise, it's deafening.  At a time when the country should be coming together, we couldn't be more separated, and it's scary.  Maybe we're all suffocating in the ash fallout from all that's been going on, and we're all just fighting for our lives with our sense of survival scratching our way out of it.  Regardless, it's not the way I want to live.  I need to find a new way to cope or let things go.  I need to find a way out of it, clear the air and rebuild.

Trying to Keep it Realigion

Growing up, I believed in a higher being without question... one who could always see what I was doing... good and bad... and that led me to do the right thing, using a reward and punishment system.  He was the one that I looked up to the sky and prayed to on occasion for something that I needed... one that brought me great joy, especially around the birth of the Son... and although I've never actually seen proof of his being, I know he was real.  It was written and there are pictures, so therefore it must be.  Besides, when I prayed for that Easy Bake Oven, there it was under the tree on Christmas morning.  Yes... Santa (you assumed I was referring to God?) was, indeed, real.  And then I grew up.  I found out how my letter to Santa was infiltrated by my parents, who then went to K-mart to fill the list... I found out who ate the cookies I put out for Santa and how the carrots I put out for Rudolph ended up in the back yard feeding the plain-old, regular, not so 'rein' deer.  And, lastly, I learned how a bad little shit like me who didn't get coal in his stocking once... not once, was calling the shots.  The gig was up and my parents lost a lot of leverage the year I stopped believing in Santa.  In my eyes, the parallels between Santa and God are uncanny.  And no matter how much I read the Bible or how many different denominational churches I attended over time, the idea of God isn't one that I can accept.  Yes, Virginia... I am an atheist.

I have always been a free-thinker, grounded in science and logic.  I remember when I was younger, asking questions about religion that no one seemed to have the answers.  In such a big book where it's all spelled out, it doesn't say much that I can wrap my head around as an explanation.  I bought several Bibles, spoke to several people who, supposedly, were experts and, yet, my questions were never answered, at least in a way not followed by 'because, that's what it says... don't ask questions".  Add to it that most religious people act anything but holy (hypocrites) and the whole 'say-5-Hail-Mary's-and-you're-forgiven' procedure that seems to undermine doing the right thing to begin with, and logic goes out the window along with the baby Jesus and the bathwater.  I suppose that's why I have no 'Faith', because I can't just let go and believe when it makes no sense... and, let's face it... it's all about blind trust when you are talking about God (or Santa, for that matter).  It's better to believe when you are younger, before you know any better.  It's no wonder why I'm a non-believer.

Atheism is defined as the rejection of belief in the existence of deities, or gods.  From there, it get's more confusing.  Apparently there are all kinds of classifications and stipulations.  It's not as simple as you believe or don't... for example, since babies and children neither believe or disbelieve (since they cannot reject something they are unaware of and cannot consciously reject), they are called implicit atheists... while those who make a conscious effort to disbelieve are explicit atheists.  Further, it is broken down to negative (belief in other forms of a higher, non-theological power, such as spiritual, supernatural or transcendental (Agnosticism, Hinduism, Buddhism and Taoism)) and positive (no higher power whatsoever).  I am a positive explicit atheist.  Atheism, in it's simplest definition, is the absence, indifference, exclusion and unawareness of/from any religious motivation. And this is where it gets dicey for me... that bit about active exclusion from the problems of Gods and religion from intellectual pursuit and practical action... this shit both fascinates me and angers me.  There's no ignoring it.  I can't help but be involved.  But I am more fascinated by the people who believe than the content of religion itself.  I've never seen anything that is so vastly interpreted.

In true Gemini fashion, I have several views on religion that contradict each other.  On one hand, I have no belief in any of it and despise everything to do with organized religion, especially their charitable tax exclusion, pedophilia, cafeteria-style beliefs system and how religion is usually behind war.  On the other hand, I highly respect someone who follows the Bible to the letter (or at least the teachings of Jesus).  I have respect for those who have their beliefs.  I capitalize "God" and "The Word"... and I don't participate in Christmas so as not to be hypocritical.  I take my hat off in a church and I wouldn't litter on church grounds.  I believe in the teachings of Jesus and I think he'd be a great guy to be friends with.  I support people to believe what they want to believe, no matter in what they worship, as long as they don't push their agenda on me or hurt anyone.  I don't feel I am any better or any worse than anyone else.  I am happy with my rationale and I'm not afraid to not believe.  Unless Jesus walks into Starbucks and orders a venti half-caff crème brulee latte in front of me, I don't think my non-believing is ever going to change.  I will be cremated and my ashes returned to the earth, from which they came.  Actually, if there is something that I worship, it is this earth and it's delicate balance.  I will live my life on this planet to the fullest, knowing that my life... past, present, future and beyond... ends when I do.  I'm ok with that.

Rachet Isn't Tight Any More

Like a poly-cotton sock that wears thin, so has the use of the word RACHET. I'm introducing a new word and have included several examples of the use of the word...

 

"She is so jigsaw, cause no one puts baby in a corner"
"That bitch is jigsaw, cause she's missing a few key pieces of the puzzle"
"Don't make me go jigsaw on you and cut you like a serrated blade"
"Her outfit is jigsaw cause there's too many curves and the pieces don't fit"
"His wiener is jigsaw cause it takes too long to complete and I lose interest"
"Her stories are so jigsaw because you never what the fuck until she's all done"
"That bitch is jigsaw cause she only makes sense on the outside of the package"
"Their timed sex is so jigsaw because there's only one way it comes together"
"Her remarks are so jigsaw because they're steely and cut right through you"

 

Following Procedure with a Cereal Drama

As a child of the 90's 70's, I'm not ashamed to admit that I watch way too much TV.  We were sat down when our homework was done as soon as we got home from school in front of the giant 35" color console 12" black-and-white screen with 276 5 channels (depending on the weather and how you stood on your head or moved around the room blocking the signal) to watch educational programming Ultra-Man... and my Mom would provide us with a delicious and nutritious dinner Hungry Jack TV dinner that she prepared herself popped in the oven for twenty minutes.  My favorite was the steak tartar pork and beans one because not only did you get little wieners in beans, but it also came with two desserts... baked apples and a triangular chocolate "cake".  Nothing was good good enough for us as far as my Mom was concerned, and she made it her mission to make sure that we had enough protein and vitamins sugar in us to make it long enough through getting our homework done, but not long enough to have us hyper while she was watching her progrums later that evening.  We used to watch Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, Falcon Crest and The Carol Burnett Show, which was my Mom's favorite.  I swear, I thought she was going to piss her pants bust a gut laughing.  She would knit smoke Pall Mall's all evening while my Dad oiled our baseball mitts snored in his electric easy chair and my brother and I sat quietly helping each other with our homework and discussing our day at school pulled each other's hair and kicked each other upside the head.  Yes, we were the model 70's family... a page right out of a Norman Bates journal Rockwell picture book.

I always fancied the procedural drama where the show takes place in court of law or in a crime scene.  It makes me feel smartical when I could figure out 'who dunnit' before it was revealed.  Perhaps the most watched in the history of TV was who shot J.R. in the long-running, critically-acclaimed and recently-revamped Dallas.  I always wanted to be a Ewing... mostly Pam because she had that zippy Mercedes and got to sleep with Bobby.  I could faintly smell the aroma of oil on me as I religiously watched and pretended to be the long-lost cousin or something in a 7 episode arc. 

Nowadays, I'm a sucker for the dramas and I tape them all.  The Good Wife and Revenge are my favorites.  Long-gone are the days of setting up the VCR, making sure that you don't tape over another progrum you haven't seen yet... and God forbid the plastic tabs were poked out or you didn't have the TV turned on the right channel or the VCR set to channel 3 or 4... you might not have gotten to see the show, forever lost without OnDemand.  My DVR is filled so much every night with shows that my watching overflows into the next morning with a good bowl of cereal with my hair still up in curlers.  It feels like I'm home when I'm watching my progrums, checking in with my family and friends.  Often times I feel much better about my life when there's so much drama going on in my TV family's lives but, as a child with a huge imagination and longing to travel and see the world, it lets me live a little, if only for 42 minutes or so... and at least now I am much more aware of what you can make out of a paper clip and some baking soda to save the world... the importance of a good shoulder pad in a dress... and to watch out for the maid... because it's always the maid that's the killer every time... anyone who's seen Jessica Fletcher in action knows that.

Rainy Days and Mondays

While I realize it was a complete drag for Karen Carpenter, dealing with rainy days and Mondays has always been the complete opposite for me, if not respite.  In the eyes of my friends and family, they think I spend my days lying about in a sunny field, shoes kicked off, perhaps sipping a cool refreshment while perusing a romantic paperback book and occasionally picking a dandelion or two, ruminating about my days as a small boy in the suburbs. On the contrary, in my business as a landscaper, the seasons all provide different challenges and it's a lot of work.  In the spring, my schedule is heavy on the front end and laborious, dealing with cleaning up after winter, spreading 100+ yards of mulch and planting 700 flowers, all while working around the rain and while maintaining the cutting of grass, especially if it's an early growth season like the one we just had.  The summer is hard dealing with weeds, which seems to be the only things that grow, and enduring the humidity and sun beating down on you all day long, burning you to a crisp isn't fun, despite my Mediterranical olive skin-tone, luscious as it is.  Fall, of course, is all about keeping up with the leaves, relentlessly falling and blowing around, making progress a fool's errand.  No sooner do I get them all to one side of the parking lot when a gust comes and blows them right back.  Winter is the only season when I get a break from labor, but it's also the hardest because I'm usually not working and being alone in my head for long periods of time without a focus isn't good.  Besides that, there are the holidays to get through and everything is dead and it's cold outside.  I try to take a trip in winter, but I usually go by myself, since everyone else is working.

Monday's the day that I have to be at the hotel since it's the day that the platinum members check in for the week and, heaven forbid, if the place doesn't look like Utopia, the world will end and they'll bitch about it until they get a free drink in the lounge.  I like Mondays though because it starts my week off and gives me a purpose.  While one may think owning your own business is pure pleasure, it can be difficult, especially staying motivated and on-track.  It may seem like I have complete control over my schedule, but that's not entirely so.  There are so many things that pull me in different directions... I may plan to work on a certain area of the hotel and it turns out that there's another contractor doing something there and I have to regroup... or the weather may not cooperate... or something can't be delivered or I can't get the help to show up... or, and this is the biggie... my family requires something (see previous paragraph where I obviously must be just laying about in a field and, therefore, have all the time in the world) and I don't get to work at all.

If it's a sunny day and I don't end up doing work, I wind up feeling so guilty that whatever I'm doing is ruined and I can't enjoy myself, not that I feel like being out in the heat after working in it all the time anyway.  As a result, I have a new bike and new kayak that never get used, and summer is just a waste of a season for me, recreationally.  Rainy days... now that's what it's all about.  Waking up and seeing the rain is the best kind of day for me because it's a total free-pass.  No getting up early... no rushing around...no working... no one wondering where I am... and, best of all, no guilt.  I love to hear the rain hitting the window and the fresh smell in the air... all the dirt being washed away and nature getting a drink.

Landscaping is physically strenuous, mentally tormenting and, with everyone wanting everything for free these days, it can be not very lucrative as well.  It's for these reasons that I am looking to sell my equipment and get back into business management.  At times, I feel like I've been hiding out from my previous 20+ years of success in accounting and management.  As a Controller/Operations Manager, I was under constant stress as well, but you felt like you were getting things accomplished and making progress and contributing.  I suppose I contribute to nature, I just need more at this point in my life.  I need a purpose and a challenge. So, instead of me pulling roots as a business, I'm pulling myself back to my roots... in business.