In this instance, giving in means crying because I am so tired of being unable to create much of any quality of life beyond the most basic standards. It also means accepting the weakness of spirit that is implied by the tears, that broken quality so common to those who have been grievously injured in some way. I’m not sure what it looks like from the other side, but from the inside, it is not a good feeling to feel fragile and vulnerable, especially for a big, strong man, who has always been seen as, and regarded himself as, a pillar of strength, both physically, and mentally. All my life I was a superior athlete, and a leader among my peers, intellectually and socially; now I am a recluse, living with constant pain and worry, wondering if my food will stretch to the end of the month, and weeping because I can’t buy anything for my kids for Christmas…..

This blog, and the writing of it, is what has kept me relatively sane for the past year plus that I’ve been writing on WordPress (over 560 posts now, and over 16,000 visitors…. way cool, that….). (Well, I have to add, my sanity has received a lot of bolster and support from my friends, in which I am rich…. as it includes some rather excellent people I’ve met here on WordPress, as well as my life-long friends….without them, I would truly be alone….)

Writing here affords me an area of expression that provides the stress relief I so require, and I am sure that if I had not been able to do this, I would most likely be in jail, and somebody would be dead who wasn’t scheduled to be so….. You see, there are just so many logical targets….. but, once again, that is a form of giving in, and I’m reluctant to do so any more than I already do….. Besides, I’m so broke, I can’t afford a gun, so I’d have to use a knife, and it’s so messy…. Quiet, but messy….

Bah! This is all twaddle, isn’t it? I would guess that it is okay for me to use my own feelings as a springboard to begin, but, to some extent, it almost feels like the very giving in of which I am speaking, a cheap way to find subject matter, to be sure. To me, though, it feels as if I’m being overly sentimental and weak…. and, to some degree, I am. But, I’ll be damned if I’ll feel bad about it….

I spent a lot of years feeling bad about the fact that I felt bad (it sounds a bit confusing, I know…. think about being on the inside of that thought….). One who is injured as I was tends to feel unworthy; first, for allowing the injury to occur, and then for being no longer useful for the purpose being served. It doesn’t matter at all that what was done, was done by necessity, or that it was done correctly, and well; the very fact of being injured is enough to outweigh any logical viewpoints. I’ve learned, for the most part, to not give in to that feeling, as it really isn’t a true feeling; it is one we are taught to feel, by those corporate masters who would have us work on, oblivious….guilt isn’t a natural response, it is taught….

Now, however, those unwanted feelings sneak up on me, like this, in the mornings when I am not yet alert, and send me off into an emotional morass that takes a while to dissipate. This morning, it has taken, what?…. Damn near seven paragraphs written before I feel like I’ve regained some equilibrium…. That is simply too much, and I’m putting a stop to it here and now….. Of course, my sub-conscious mind is rather stiff-necked and stubborn, and my decision may have no effect whatsoever on future outbreaks of angst in the early morning…. but, I must make an effort to control my own mind, or what is the point of having one?….. Shall we Pearl?……

“..  hubub, hubub, HUBUB, hubub, hubub, hubub, HUBUB, hubub, hubub, hubub.” — Zippy the Pinhead

(I knew a man once, in reality, whose entire vocabulary consisted of exactly this word, in almost exactly this cadence….. except when he got really upset, then he’d look you in the eye, and say “bastard”, as he took a desultory punch at your nose…. I loved him, dearly…. His existence, while inconceivable to the rest of us, was extremely simplified, and comfortable to him, and, in my view, was not an unreasonable response to a world he did not comprehend, a world in which he lived every moment in fear…..)
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Here is a short trio of pearls, old school style, to indicate a certain point (which, as always, is left as an exercise for the Gentle Reader….). Please note, for later reference, the roller coaster characteristics of the path from the beginning to the conclusion…. Taking notes will not be necessary, or graded….

“A little experience often upsets a lot of theory.” — Cadman

“If the King’s English was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me!” — Ma Ferguson, Governor of Texas (circa 1920)

“Life is always like high school. Which is interesting, because high school is nothing like life.” — Jon Carroll, SF Chronicle, November 17, 1995.

“Life is always like high school. Which is interesting, because high school is nothing like life.” — Jon Carroll, SF Chronicle, November 17, 1995.

“If the King’s English was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me!” — Ma Ferguson, Governor of Texas (circa 1920)

“A little experience often upsets a lot of theory.” — Cadman

Same idea, basically, but it got there on a Segway, not a roller coaster….. I really do love the English language; it is so amenable to torture….. and as an inanimate entity, has no feelings to offend, nor blood to spill…. Well, I guess, given my heavy-handed writing techniques, some blood is unavoidable, but, it cleans up well with a bit of cold water and salt…..

“It is not a fish until it is on the bank.” — Irish Proverb
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Always a hedonist, I have opted today to go with one of my all-time favorite poems….

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

~~ Shel Silverstein
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“Beware the lightning that lurketh in the undischarged capacitor, lest it cause thee to bounce upon thy buttocks in a most untechnician-like manner.” — The First Commandment for Technicians

“Is the printer plugged into the wall power socket? Is the plug wire from the wall plugged into the back of the printer?” — The First Two Questions for the Printer Help Desk Technician

“Did you try to reboot the computer?” — The First Level Help Desk Question

There are many, many more rules, of course, in the technical world, rules whose existence is necessitated by the power and scope of human stupidity. The first one above is, naturally, a corollary of Murphy’s Law of Scientific Endeavor, and one that all those of a geekish nature learn very early in life.

The second and third are indicative of my own experiences as the Computer Technician for a tax business, a large franchise with a number of offices in various cities in the region they served. I installed their networks and tax software, did trouble-shooting for the office computers and systems, set up classrooms for tax classes for taxpayers, and for new employees during the tax season. Essentially, I was their one-person Help Desk, on call for emergencies to any office. Great fun, but hard work, as they weren’t exactly the most well-trained set of managers I’d ever encountered…. but, that’s another story….

“Work thou not on energized equipment, for if thou dost, thy fellow workers will surely buy beers for thy widow and console her in other ways.” — The Seventh Commandment for Technicians

Upon arriving, I walked to the printer, to check if it was plugged in to the wall, and that other machines plugged into the same plug were functioning, as I would with any trouble shooting visit. All good….. I then walked over to the printer, where I found the other end of the wire leading to the plug. It was only halfway plugged into the printer, thus would NOT have supplied any power, but looked okay upon cursory examination. Problem fixed, for as soon as I pushed the plug all the way onto the receptor, the machine fired up and started printing out all of the files it had been sent….. thus certifying the veracity of Lazarus Long’s admonition, to wit: “Never underestimate the power of human stupidity.”

See? Now, my own bozoid tendencies have erupted, and I’m displaying my own proof of my assertions…. Okay, I’m done… quit it. Stop laughing now, I’m done, see?  Never mind, I’ll just go away now, having completely lost all continuity, and probably, all credibility….

🙂
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It is probably a good thing that I am beginning to regard the passage of just one day as a significant victory of principle. Or, perhaps it would be clearer and more accurate to say the passage of one day without a) snapping, to the point of giving in to illegal, if entirely justifiable, homicidal urges, b) starving, or c) crying without warning or reason, can be regarded as such a victory.

In which case, I’ve already lost today, on record, so there’s no point in getting all weirded out for the rest of the day…. Here ’tis, damn near 10:00 AM, and I’ve completed today’s Pearl, not without struggle, I admit, but, completely ready to join the “done” category….. Therefore, I shall now cease rambling on, without rhyme, or reason……  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..