Monday, April 30, 2012

Again, Maggie

Mondays. They’re no worse nor any better than any other day for me anymore. Just another day of watching the foolishness around me and thinking, to grab a phrase from Longfellow, “long thoughts.”

Maggie came to mind a moment ago, which prompted this post. She remains the only real mystery in my life.

I was, not to be immodest, a good reporter; good at tracking things down; finding things. Yet, I can find no record of her, save her last address, now more than five years old.

It is almost astonishing to me that someone who was part of my life for more than two decades, almost a third of my life, can vanish. I do not know if she’s married, alive or dead.

Our relationship for that period was certainly not all smooth. Far from it. Perhaps it is the old reporter in me that doesn’t let me put it away. It’s not love, I’m sure of that. It is an inquisitiveness that, while not overwhelming, is manfest from time to time.

It will, no doubt, be a mystery for the remainder of my life.

Saturday, April 28, 2012


I wear two pair of bifocals. My eyes are neither good nor bad enough to get trifocals. One pair is exclusively for the computer; the other everything else. Now, because I go back and forth from the computer, I wear both pairs on lanyards or whatever one calls those strings. Does anything see anything wrong with that?

Apparently she thinks it makes me look "old." Hell, I am old. More importantly, it keeps me from hunting down a pair of glasses, or at least the ones I need to wear.

All is well though, as she continues to sleep in the guest room.

[The above was written yesterday]

Tomorrow will be a good day. She will be out almost all day…and I've got a couple of Marx Brothers movies to watch.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

The House

I am not a fastidious man, however, I do like to keep things neat and in their place. This is how my wife left the apartment this morning.

Friday, April 20, 2012


I am still alive, though I've had little about which to write over the past week. Part is a lack of imagination, part ennui, though I did have my kids and grandkids in town.

I suppose I could espouse on the Secret Service matter, about which I care little, if at all. The President is always protected, notwithstanding the dalliances of a few Secret Service guys.

There's always the price of gasoline, which is just going to kill the economy; and, of course, the lack of job creation that the fat cats are supposed effect with tax cuts. The House just passed one (the Senate probably won't) and those old Bush tax cuts did nothing.

Finally, however, income disparity is becoming an issue and maybe a focus in the campaign and next year's Congress…but I doubt it.

Romney continues to cater to the wealthy, Obama, well, I have no idea what he's doing.

Surely we have better candidates somewhere.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Yeah, I've got a very soft side...We'll be painting tomorrow...
This evening she learned the evils of the NRA

Friday, April 13, 2012

Letting you know that I am, in fact, Granddaughters.

Thursday, April 5, 2012


My wife, as usual, is the subject for now. Karma, I think, hers. Over the past few years it became increasing apparent that she thought there was a payoff at the end of the day, in terms of inheritance. Frankly, I thought so as well, but my uncle, as I’ve mentioned in much earlier posts, died and left everything to his lover. That was a year ago and for some reason, I had the will out. I know that when he died, I requested and found I was left a buck, an insult at best. I told her all was left to someone…but she has “wet brain” and doesn’t recall it.

Mostly she doesn’t recall that which involves not getting money. Now I have to deal with a rehash of a rancid old broad who’s worried about what’s going to happen to her when I die. I might have cared years ago, but callous as it is, and as is so oft quoted, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

As regular readers know, I can put up with most anything. These vicissitudes of life are just that. Live with them or put them away, but for G**’s sake, get on with your life, wretched though it is.

Mine’s just fine. I work everyday and have endure clients for whom I do what they often call “impossible” or “miraculous,” and who are all late payers. And, I not only look for business for my business, but her blossoming one as well.

Whether she’s a “dry” or “wet” drunk is not the issue. It’s more that she’s turned into an ungrateful bitch…which is what narcissists do.