Worthless

My brain apparently checked out, so my body followed suit. The past few days the pattern has been sleep, eat, FB games.

For those with curious minds, my hiney hurts -- still. The apartment did not clean itself, nor the cat box itself.

I still miss you, Dude.

Later.

Tuneup

Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen. What a great name for a band, huh?

I enjoy music, always have. Noises, on the other hand, bother me. Thus produces a conflict of great magnitude. I love music but I can only take small doses. I am not sure why the auditory sense causes such stress. The hearing part of my brain cannot multitask perhaps.

Music and specific tunes define my life as it does for others I am sure. My generation of music begins sitting on the fence between Elvis and The Beatles. Johnny Cash and Roy Orbison (he was born in Vernon) held down spots, too.

My parents favored show tunes, Henry Mancini, and tunes from World War II.

I grew up on cartoons which featured classical music as background, i.e. the Bugs Bunny cartoon with "the William Tell Overture" and of course Fantasia.

I played the trumpet in junior high (mother wanted me to play the trumpet, she had played it in school). I sang in the choir as well. Our junior high musical production was "Showboat." I buried myself in the drama department my early college years. I helped with productions of college operas, though I did not sing.

The later college years I discovered The Moody Blues, Led Zepplin, Jerry Jeff and Willie.

Flash forward. Sorry, folks, I am not a rap fan. I guess I got stuck in my generation's set of tunes.

Remember hippy dippy weatherman?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZBRc0VtRiQ

Well, Dude. My lads tanked this week. Fame is so fleeting.

Later.

So there

OK, folks. Another edition of "It's OK, it's just me" preparing for takeoff. Buckle your seatbelts and make sure your seatbacks are in an upright position. Ready? Here goes...

I loathe hairball season, especially when I am half awake.

You always need a dish when you just finished drying and putting away the dishes. Being dirty is a dish's job.

Cats magically appear the minute the catbox is clean.

Cats time naps according to feed me schedules.

Pogo shows signs of curmudgeonly behavior.

Try to think of me as a person. Connect on an intangible level rather than a physical one.

PH may hold me down but I will not let it define me.

As much as we would like to do so, we cannot change the past. We cannot leave it behind either. But we can put it on a back shelf in our minds. Behind the 1960s and '70s.

I admire those who believe with such intensity.

When grass roots evolves into big business the intent disintegrates.

We all claim ownership of certain events or relationships. In reality, ownership is not one of the options.

I'm hanging, Dude.

Later.

The insider

I stole this blog post idea from JW. (Truth in blogging.)

I am pretty sure this blog would surprise many folks. Most of them see the outward me, but have no idea about the inward me. I am adept at camouflage. So why throw myself out there so publically? For several reasons.

At this time of my life, I would like to be liked for who I am. I may not be around much longer and I do not want to waste time. If people see the real me and still want to be in my life, then I know there lies a good basis for friendship.

I hope I cause people to stop and think. The man sitting confidenty at the bus stop probably owns insecurities himself. Everyone puts on an armor of sorts every time they leave home. For some the armor becomes permanent. The man inside dries up and dies but the outer shell remains to carry on.

Doc told me I needed a purpose. He hits the mark once again. I must have lost mine about the time I lost my job. Ever since, I have meandered along doing nothing. The blog represents a commitment.

Some days the words flow from my fingers. Other days I sit and stare at the screen and drink coffee. Pogo sits beside my chair and offers suggestions.

OK, enough staring. Miss you, Dude.

Later.

Ty one on

I made some calls yesterday about my new PH med, Tyvaso. The people I talked to were outstanding -- polite, helpful. One woman told me I should not expect the med before Sept. 24. A nurse/drug company rep has to come show me how to use it. I understand all this. In the meantime, I am antsy to feel better so I can do more. I am pretty much limited to one chore a day.

Connie locked herself out of her house, so yesterday's use of energy involved a trip to her house with the key. She lives about 6 miles away. My car features a standard transmission and lacks power steering. Oh yes, road crews work at top speed to get work done before winter. Two significant detours. All this means worn out.

You know, whining about PH and its associated woes comes easily for me. Today I am thankful. Like Doc told me at the last appointment, if I had had PH five years earlier, I probably would not be here. On the days when I have no spoons, I should remember this.

Today pretty much offers no spoons.

Miss you, Dude.

Later.

Dishing

My body continues its revolt.

Connie and I went to three stores yesterday looking for a drain board and drainer. I decided mine needed replacing after many, many years. I got a chic black one.

After I got home, I took a four-hour nap. The excursion wiped me out.

I feel like a wrung out dish rag.

On a brighter note, I had a good weekend in the EPL. I managed to beat everyone. I am not sure if they forgot to make moves or what. I can hear you now. "We've got to take ____ (Stoke City last year) seriously." Guys that score for the lesser teams are cheap but do add points.

The thought of you makes me smile, Dude.
Later.

Mom

My mother asked me yesterday how I plan to spend the money she gave me for my birthday. I said probably on bills. She said she hoped I would spend it on something for me. I said I would like to have a glider rocker. She said they are expensive. I said well then I am not sure how I will spend the money.

I told my mother that my brother had called me for my birthday. She said that was awfully nice of him. She said that no less than three times.

Today I am sad again.

Later.