tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83036492024-03-08T15:14:17.055-05:00Bottled LightningThe friendly, neighborhood weblog written for the unusual by the unusual. I am your host, Lightning Man.
Here we'll discuss my journey as a recovering adult child of an alcoholic, as well as politics, popular culture, American sports, and pulchritudinous females.Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-66160544499739952712021-10-06T14:21:00.000-04:002021-10-06T14:21:01.118-04:00That Wallace Wood ArtI let this lay fallow for many years because I am no longer fresh in my Adult Children of Alcoholics recovery and didn't need the catharsis that this blog provided. However, I recently in my private life found the third piece of artwork that shaped my life.<div><br /></div><div>To refresh, I recounted a story of how I became obsessed with acquiring financial wealth and independence because of <a href="https://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2011/10/that-stupid-sign.html" target="_blank">a sign my father had stuck in our fence</a>. And then later I told the tale of how I had always felt like I couldn't get anything I truly wanted because of <a href="https://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2011/10/that-dumb-cartoon.html" target="_blank">a dumb horoscope cartoon</a>. In that, I mentioned a third piece of art, a Wallace Wood cartoon for Mad Magazine that forever morphed my taste in women.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know why it did. Perhaps it was as simple as it coming into my life as I was becoming a sexual person. But I do know that it <b>did</b> inform my ideas of pulchritude. Since I'm no longer doing public psychoanalysis, I simply present that cartoon (half of a set, with a male version as well which affected me not in the slightest).<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5lTY-WNtGZM/YV3obwZmnBI/AAAAAAAAJeE/nwol-kV1hN4KZVOJHbUwrjbO4nou8TzKwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2334/Wood-woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="2334" height="197" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5lTY-WNtGZM/YV3obwZmnBI/AAAAAAAAJeE/nwol-kV1hN4KZVOJHbUwrjbO4nou8TzKwCLcBGAsYHQ/w536-h197/Wood-woman.jpg" width="536" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">© Mad Magazine, no idea what year</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This will probably be the last post here for the rest of all time. So have a good life and know that I am glad you came by and hope this helped you or at least entertained you. Peace.</div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-72308262040189074582013-04-21T15:03:00.000-04:002013-04-21T15:03:32.757-04:00“I'm not the problem, you see.”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;"><blockquote style="border: 2px solid black; font-size: x-small; margin: auto; padding: 10px; width: 65%;">I'm not the problem, you see.<br/>It's <i>everyone else</i> that bothers <b>me</b>.<br/>They make it so hard to be kind,<br/>But when I'm with you I don't seem to mind.<footer style="text-align: right;"><i>— Linus of Hollywood</i></footer></blockquote><br />
I have had occasion to have a relationship of sorts with an alcoholic. Kathy's late brother had a friend who is, alas, an alcoholic. We'll call her Patricia. She just had a child after having had to lose her older child because of her alcoholism. And now, thanks primarily to people she calls friends, there is a chance she'll lose this child to the system as well.<br />
<br />
Her "friends" invited her and the baby over, coaxed her into drinking, and then called the authorities. They did this out of revenge, because Patricia at one point had a role in one of them losing a child to Children's Services.<br />
<br />
Where I come in is that I recognize that she doesn't have much of a chance if she doesn't change her environment, so I have offered her the opportunity to move where I live, where Kathy and I can help her get set up in an environment that will support her quitting drinking.<br />
<br />
The problem for me has been dealing directly with an alcoholic again. The promises, the excuses, the disappointments, and the lies are all familiar to me intellectually, but being the recipient of them in person touches buttons long dormant. I have to stop myself from becoming angry with her with the anger that rightfully belongs to and with my father.<br />
<br />
I have decided to have no hope about the issue and just let what happens happen.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Linus of Hollywood sings what I think of as the alcoholic's anthem.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/lbg4MMrxa94" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-48025169694579619122013-04-14T08:00:00.000-04:002013-04-14T08:00:08.141-04:00Graduation Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Well, this past week I graduated. Not from school but from therapy. After having gone to therapy actively since the summer of 2008, the summer when my wife and I had the last marital troubles that led to our marriage dissolving, I am now no longer seeing anyone. And it feels...weird.<br />
<br />
I started going to the first therapist, Marie, as a marriage counselor with Portia, my then-wife. The marital therapy was about as effective in keeping the marriage together as the Cleveland Browns offense was that year (4-12) in winning football games. I then continued to see Marie for the next three years, surviving the break up and then the tumultuous relationship with Stella. But progress seemed slow and less than satisfying.<br />
<br />
Then two things happened. The first was that Marie, after three years, found out that my father was an alcoholic. I never hid it from her. It somehow just never came up. This led her to suggest I read Co-Dependent No More, which is where I heard of Adult Children of Alcoholics. But the other thing that happened is that Marie took an opportunity to do some special work elsewhere, leaving me in the care of her colleague, Caroline.<br />
<br />
Caroline had a much more assertive style. She pushed me. She gave me homework. And so, between ACoA and her, I began to make much swifter progress. Of course, it didn't hurt that my relationship with Stella was soon over, allowing me to focus even more on healing myself, since she was a bullet still lodged in my open wounds.<br />
<br />
And in one last push, she pushed me to push off and leave therapy. I could argue with it. I'm better. I can do things in love relationships (like set boundaries) that I couldn't before. I have come a long way. Am I fixed? No. I will continue to evolve as long as I live. But I am moving to a new chapter, so play the music; I'm marching in graduation.<br />
<br />
<hr/><div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;">Pomp and Circumstance No. 1, conducted by the composer.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ao5HEVo9NL0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-15533183942764446512013-04-07T10:00:00.000-04:002013-04-07T10:00:04.793-04:00Things I learned from looking up other things<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">A while ago, I ripped off Sydney J. Harris by titling a blog entry <a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2012/01/things-i-learned-while-looking-up-other.html">"Things I Learned While Looking Up Other things."</a> It is one of the most popular of my blog entries, right behind the one that has boobs in it. And so, since I am always looking up something being a lover of learning and an autodidact, I decided to do it again.<br />
<br />
This ÷ is called an obelus. This · is often referred to as a middot but is also known as an interpunct. This ‽ is called an interrobang and it denotes an excited question, while it's upside down cousin <span class="Unicode">⸘</span> is called a gnaborreti.<br />
<br />
The name Calvary comes from a translation of a translation going back to the name Golgotha which means "Place of the Skull."<br />
<br />
In America, not only are charitable donations of money and goods tax deductible, but so is mileage accrued in service of a charitable organization.<br />
<br />
The song 25 or 6 to 4 was written about its own writing. That is to say it is a song about writing a song.<br />
<br />
And finally, the actual, correct title of Sydney J. Harris's column is Things I Learned <b>From</b> Looking Up Other things.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
Chicago<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BZp1jMheojw" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-24478090632259396632013-03-30T09:15:00.001-04:002013-03-30T09:15:59.147-04:00They're coming to take me away<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;"><blockquote style="border: 2px solid black; font-size: x-small; margin: auto; padding: 10px; width: 65%;">And then the days got worse and worse<br />
And now you see, I've gone<br />
Completely out of my mind.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i>— Jerry Samuels, a k a Napoleon XIV</i></div></blockquote><br />
It's quiet right now in the Lightning Cave, but instead of just enjoying it, I am taking advantage of this time to get a blog entry out before <b>it</b> starts again, the horrible menace plaguing my days for over a month now. What's "it"?<br />
<br />
<div style="color: red; font-size: 3.5em;"><b><i>People!</i></b></div><br />
I am a pegging-the-meters introvert, so the last few weeks have pushed me to my absolute limit regarding the company of other human beings and the noise they bring and the need to discuss irrelevancies. I did something actually pretty cool the other weekend, visiting with men in prison while talking about my religion, but that required me to spend a lot of time with people without much of a break. Then I also during this period spent a ton of time trying to teach someone at work how to do her job. She, however, has been a difficult student not inclined to independent study. And finally, with Kathy out of work, she wants to talk when I get home.<br />
<br />
I have lost my sweet, sweet time of not listening to anyone and not doing anything for anyone, the time where I feel creative enough to write, or draw, or write music. Thank God for bowel movements or I wouldn't have time to read anything that wasn't on a computer screen. At any rate, I have been short tempered and snappy and have been making weird, sometimes sarcastic remarks. So much so that, like the fellow in the song, I feel like I'm losing my mind. I was hoping to take advantage of the Easter holiday weekend to recharge, but Kathy invited her adult niece to visit, so no soap.<br />
<br />
What's that? Is that a siren I hear? Will I be happy to see those fine young men in their clean white coats? Are they coming to take me away? Hee hee. Hah hah. Ho ho.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
Napoleon XIV<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hnzHtm1jhL4" width="420"></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-90397300460160636302013-03-24T18:00:00.000-04:002013-03-24T18:00:01.976-04:00Stormy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">I had to go into work today and it was storming rather fiercely It was dramatic but also very beautiful. I have liked storms for many years and it was also appropriate for my current situation. I am going through a storm in my personal life right now and the squall made for a perfect metaphor.<br />
<br />
I am doing a lot of things lately stemming from the religious retreat I went on last fall and they are both a part of and a respite from my current storm. I have decided that rather than put that information here I would keep this blog focused on ACoA and start a second blog, which you can visit <a href="http://emmaustodamascus.blogspot.com">here</a>. Remember that this is a religious blog and might not be your cup of tea depending on your religion.<br />
<br />
How any of this relates to ACoA is that I am better able to see the current situation as a storm and not the end of the world, and for that I do have the program to thank.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
The Classics IV.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/18Sua_QTDs0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-82929760594807179342013-03-14T23:00:00.000-04:002013-03-30T08:40:11.469-04:00Don't you care?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">If something happens twice it's a coincidence and thrice it's a trend. So with that in mind, I want to talk about something that happened to me now with Kathy that also happened with Stella and Portia, namely jealous about how I talk to my friends.<br />
<br />
From their perspective, I share more with my friends and I have a closer relationship with my friends than I have with them. I believe this is a misapprehension of what's really going on. So I decided to take a look at it and see if I could figure out what they were seeing and what I could do about it.<br />
<br />
It seems to me that what they are seeing is:<br />
<ol><li><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html#dyc">I don't enjoy many conversations with them</a></li>
<li><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html#wwf">I enjoy the conversations with my friends</a></li>
<li><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html#sic">I tell my friends things about my life and my day that I don't tell them</a></li>
</ol><br />
<hr style="width: 50%;" /><br />
<b><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html" name="dyc">Don't You Care?</a></b><br />
<br />
"I don't like to talk" is usually what I say to people, but that is not the whole truth. That statement is actually made up of a couple of things. I don't like to talk about things I don't care about and I don't like to talk for no reason.<br />
<br />
Portia, Stella, and even Kathy love to talk to me about things I don't really care about. I am not a great actor, so they all know that I don't want to hear about these things. The other thing I am asking in my head when we talk is "Why are you telling me this?" And usually in their cases I do not get an answer that has anything to with me. They're often talking for them, which is fine, but again they can tell that I don't care and it hurts their feelings that I don't.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html" name="wwf">Words With Friends</a></b><br />
<br />
I do enjoy my conversations with my friends. This is due to several factors. One, they don't talk to me as much. I usually spend a lot of time with the woman in my life, consequently, I don't talk to my friends nearly as often. Thus when I do talk to them, it's something special. Two, usually enough time has elapsed that they have a lot to tell me and usually just hit the high spots. And three, they, to varying degrees, know what I give a crap about.<br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://lightning-jar.blogspot.com/2013/03/dont-you-care.html name="sic">Sharing Is Caring</a></b><br />
<br />
As to why I tell my friends things about my life, first of all, they generally ask. Stella and Portia in particular did not really ever ask me about my day or my life. I would have to force the conversation in my direction when I wanted to talk about my life. It wasn't worth the effort. To Kathy's credit, she does ask me about my day. However, she tends to ask me stuff right when I get home from work and am not in the mood to talk to anyone about anything or when I am in the middle of doing something and am not in the mood to have a conversation.<br />
<br />
<hr style="width: 50%;" /><br />
But as with anything else the question is "What am I going to do about it?" I do not have a magic formula to find interesting things I do not find interesting. I have debated telling Kathy about any of this, because I don't want her to think I think her purpose is to entertain me. I think I will just assure her that it doesn't mean what she thinks it means and leave it at that. But since she reads the blog periodically, I figure she might learn about it anyway, which would certainly give us something to talk about.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
The Buckinghams<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/pUIDgeqgPJs" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-78994244343033589152013-02-27T16:17:00.000-05:002013-02-27T16:17:27.903-05:00So...logical.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">Quite possibly my favorite single class when I went to college was Introduction to Logic. It wasn't because I was particularly fond of my philosophy professor although he was a nice enough fellow. It was the subject matter itself. Logic was orderly and it made sense. And it allowed for useful insights into what people were saying. It in fact amazes me sometimes how people do not see the logical conclusions to be drawn from the things they say and do.<br />
<br />
I believe my love of logic is because of my upbringing and my FOO. People are messy and illogical and the world made little sense to me. What understanding I have of humanity and sociology has only come from studying people in an almost scientific fashion, since people were unreliable to me and made little sense.<br />
<br />
The problem though is that whenever you get a shiny new hammer, everything looks like a nail. I had logic and it worked (and works) well for me in a lot of areas, so I used it to try and understand, explain, and solve everything. And using logic about (and in some cases with) people only gets you so far.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until today though that I realized that my love of logic was an understandable reaction to the unpredictability and sometimes irrationality of my home life. As Mr. Spock would say, "Fascinating."<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
1, 2, 3, 5!<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OQfjIw3mivc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-22716591216943526382013-02-19T11:31:00.001-05:002013-02-19T14:34:56.673-05:00She cried<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">Sometimes you have to smash your forehead against a brick wall a good several times before you really get it.<br />
<br />
I keep trying to deal with Portia, my ex-wife, as if she is a mature human being and honestly, she just isn't. I was talking to Tina, my granddaughter, on the phone and I was thinking that it might be worth it to try and persuade Portia to allow Tina to go on my annual vacation back home. But I really didn't want to have that conversation with Portia if Tina didn't want to go. So I asked her to think about whether or not she wanted to go with me and if she did, I would talk to Portia about it.<br />
<br />
As soon as Tina and I finish, Portia calls me up all on fire, asking how could I ask the kid the question and saying there is no way she was going with me and Lord only knows what else because I said "Okay, she can't go" and hung up on her. This didn't satisfy Portia because she called Kathy and yelled at her for an hour too. I later found out (because Kathy and I were in different places when this occurred) that Tina was in the background sobbing because Portia had told her rather nastily that she couldn't go, repeating the lie that I have an anger problem.<br />
<br />
What I have is a "My ex-wife is a lunatic bitch" problem.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
Jay & the Americans, with the first Jay, John "Jay" Traynor.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/sBpm8tITIiE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-63651446032724318462013-02-11T16:11:00.001-05:002013-02-11T16:11:05.938-05:00Gung Hei Fat Choi 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">I am not sure why I started paying attention to Chinese New Year, but it was Chinese New Year Sunday and I had some delicious twice cooked pork to celebrate.<br />
<br />
I know. Anything to eat Chinese.</div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-1116938411098524042013-02-11T16:07:00.000-05:002013-02-11T16:07:24.363-05:00An apology of sorts to Google<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;">A while back I complained that Google AdSense cancelled my account without explanation. I had assumed it was for fraudulent click activity. (I don't know if they said as much.) But as it turns out, I was in violation of their TOS, which I only found after being bored and having nothing else to read.<br />
<br />
See, I like to post song videos here. And even though AdSense, YouTube, and Blogger are all related IIRC, posting YouTube videos that you didn't make on your Blogger blog is against AdSense's TOS. So I do owe them an apology about saying I did nothing wrong.<br />
<br />
But not taking the time to explain yourself is still crappy customer service. Sorry.</div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-37665213365884349062013-02-11T15:58:00.000-05:002013-02-11T22:26:57.421-05:00Breaking up is hard to do.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;"><blockquote style="border: 2px solid black; font-size: x-small; margin: auto; padding: 10px; width: 65%;">Don't say that this is the end.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i>— Neil Sedaka</i></div></blockquote><br />
It really isn't as big a deal as it would have been a year or so ago, but since I told you about Kathy and Portia developing a relationship I think it only fair that I tell you about "The Breakup."<br />
<br />
Over the course of the last few months of 2012, Kathy and Portia's relationship cooled. Kathy seems to think that Portia finally got the idea that Kathy wasn't going anywhere. Also, Portia had begun to be more and more negative, again according to Kathy. I like to think she just was more and more her true self.<br />
<br />
But at any rate, after she and I returned from spending the holidays in her home state to where we live, she noticed that Portia had suspended all contact with her, down from contact at least once a day. Kathy was fine with that but curious, so she texted Portia to get the scoop. Portia then set up a meeting to have a "talk".<br />
<br />
Portia then had a dramatic conversation with Kathy that seemed an awful lot like a break up meeting. Portia claimed that Rick, my stepson, had advised her that it wasn't healthy to keep having a connection to my life and so she was ending her relationship with Kathy so as not to have a window into my life. Of course, that was the only reason she had pushed a relationship in the first place, but I digress.<br />
<br />
She said that I would always have access to my stepdaughter Tina (who mysteriously is nonetheless never available to me when I want her) and that their mutual friend could still be friends with Kathy. Kathy acted like this was a loss and then went on her merry way.<br />
<br />
And I feel better than I used to.<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
Neil Sedaka.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_fKEkMd2OwY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-34998366531936995832013-01-16T13:01:00.000-05:002013-01-16T13:01:10.606-05:00I wonder who taught her how to talk like that.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;"><blockquote style="border: 2px solid black; font-size: x-small; margin: auto; padding: 10px; width: 65%;">Baby's into running 'round, hanging with the crowd,<br />
Putting your business in the street, talking out loud,<br />
Saying you bought her this and that<br />
And how much you done spent.<br />
I swear she must believe it's all heaven sent.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><i>— Boz Scaggs</i></div></blockquote><br />
As I have said here on any number of occasions, Stella, my ex-girlfriend, has seen fit to libel me on her blog. She's also disparaged Kathy, my current girlfriend. And we've pretty much just let it go. We both stopped looking at her blog because time had marched on. However, mutual friends, family, and acquaintances interested in the main subject of her blog continue to read it, as well as Portia, the ex-wife.<br />
<br />
Portia and Stella have struck up a relationship that I have taken to calling the Paramour Revenge Squad after the Superman Revenge Squad of comic book fame. Again, no skin off my nose. In fact, I think it both a little funny and sad that the two of them get together and compare notes as to how horrible I am.<br />
<br />
At any rate, word got back to me that she had made a big life decision and had posted same on her blog. I think it a positive life decision and I was glad to hear it. I mentioned it to Kathy. Kathy, who has a relationship of sorts with Portia, mentioned to Portia that she thought this was a good decision. And, apparently, Portia told Stella. And Stella went what I shall charitably call "cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs®."<br />
<br />
She assumed that I got the news through a mutual friend, Whitney, and proceeded to libel Whitney on her blog while excoriating Whitney for telling me this information. And she repeated her many lies about me for good measure.<br />
<br />
Whitney is a wonderful friend. But as Stella is going to find, she's even more a tremendous enemy. Stella should not have done this, especially since she puts her own business in the street in the form of a blog that is open to the world. So pretty soon Whitney will "bring the chick around to the sad, sad truth, the dirty lowdown."<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
The dirty lowdown.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mha7S99TE5U" width="560"></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-10418295695207913802012-11-07T09:30:00.000-05:002015-01-08T00:38:02.950-05:00Endless Summer and Derek Winter, parts 1 and 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="background-color: white; border: solid black 3px; color: black; font-family: courier; padding: 10px;">
<br />
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
Endless Summer & Derek Winter</h1>
<div style="font-size: x-small; text-align: center;">
©2012, JCT</div>
<br />
<h2>
Love Letters</h2>
<br />
"Are you listening to me?" The veins in Max Valentine's square head were throbbing as he asked the question, his perfectly coiffed white hair a calming contrast to the red in his face. Considering Max is my boss and that he was chewing me out, it was to be expected.<br />
<br />
As to the answer to that question, it was 'No.' I was not listening to him, because 1. there was someplace else I wanted to be and 2. he was chewing me out for doing my job.<br />
<br />
My job has no exact title and just a few specific parameters. They are "Figure out what's going wrong" and "Fix it." The reason my job description is so roomy is because Max owns many different enterprises of varying states of legality and I am the caretaker of all of them where those two questions are concerned.<br />
<br />
The most recent job involved someone using Max's business to smuggle drugs. To solve the problem I had to bring in the authorities. The problem with that is that the business involved was a strip club and John Law is bad for the booby-shaking business.<br />
<br />
"If this is how you're going to do your job now, then maybe I should reconsider having you on my payroll!" Later, after he'd had drinks with Evelyn Dusenberry, his secretary, and listened to that 40s music he loved so much, he'd realize that if I could have fixed the problem any other way I would have.<br />
<br />
But right now he was having none of it and frankly, neither was I. I walked out of his office in mid scream, nodded to the long-legged Ms. Dusenberry in the anteroom, and rode my Yamaha Striker back to my condo. Max wanted us to have some time apart and I was going to take it.<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<h2>
Identity Crisis</h2>
<br />
He could have seen that the frustration in my face matched that of my voice, if he had, in fact, been looking at <i>me</i> instead of staring at Jill's breasts.<br />
<br />
To be fair, Gillian Sweeney's breasts commanded attention. They were dramatically large, an asset in her earlier career as a stripper (Gigi Chesterson) turned house mother at the self-same club that Max V. was so angry about. And even though she was not dressed to highlight them, in a modest, pale blue blouse with a high neckline, they still had the effect that the Good Lord intended them to.<br />
<br />
She and I were in the lobby of the Sea Breeze Hotel in the Outer Banks of North Carolina, trying to check in for an impromptu summer vacation in a quest to keep from punching my boss in the face. However there was a problem, as the hotel was insisting that I had, in fact, already checked in.<br />
<br />
"Mr. Winter, our records show that you changed your room to one with handicapped access and checked in a few hours ago."<br />
<br />
I leaned across the counter. "Do I look like I need handicapped access?" At this point he actually looked at me.<br />
<br />
"No. You don't. There must be some mistake. Mary!" A hotel employee came in with an unfolded towel in her hands. "It says here you checked in Mr. Winter"<br />
<br />
She snapped her chewing gum. "Yeah. I did."<br />
<br />
"Well, this is Mr. Winter."<br />
<br />
"No, it's not."<br />
<br />
"I ought to know who I am, ma'am."<br />
<br />
"Well, you might be a Mr. Winter, but the Mr. Winter I checked in is a black guy in a wheelchair."<br />
<br />
"Did he show you ID?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but he had a different credit card than on the reservation."<br />
<br />
"So there must be two of us booked for this weekend."<br />
<br />
"That's what it's looking like, Mr. Winter."<br />
<br />
Just then two young men in their early twenties walked in. One was a short, elf-like white guy and one was a taller, square black guy. "Excuse me," he said, "but there are people in my room."<br />
<br />
"And you are, sir?"<br />
<br />
"Derek Winter."<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-13778491885605656302012-11-04T00:21:00.000-04:002012-11-04T00:25:07.054-04:00National Story Noodling Month<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: verdana;"><br />
<i>November is National Novel Writing Month and if you were reading this blog last year, you may recall that I did, in fact, write a novel during said month (by Thanksgiving no less). I wanted to do it again this year, but I just couldn't bring myself to block off the time for it. But I still wanted to write something. So I am taking a character and a situation that I have had around for years that I wanted to write either a movie or novel about and am going to write it in snatches here. I will post blog entries about being an adult child of an alcoholic here as they occur to me during this period as well.</i></div><br />
<hr /><br />
<div style="color:black; background-color: white; border: solid black 3px; font-family: courier; padding: 10px;"><br />
<h1 style="text-align: center;">Endless Summer & Derek Winter</h1><div style="font-size: x-small; text-align: center;">©2012, JCT</div><br />
"Are you listening to me?" The veins in Max Valentine's square head were throbbing as he asked the question, his perfectly coiffed white hair a calming contrast to the red in his face. Considering Max is my boss and that he was chewing me out, it was to be expected.<br />
<br />
As to the answer to that question, it was 'No.' I was not listening to him, because 1. there was someplace else I wanted to be and 2. he was chewing me out for doing my job.<br />
<br />
My job has no exact title and just a few specific parameters. They are "Figure out what's going wrong" and "Fix it." The reason my job description is so roomy is because Max owns many different enterprises of varying states of legality and I am the caretaker of all of them where those two questions are concerned.<br />
<br />
The most recent job involved someone using Max's business to smuggle drugs. To solve the problem I had to bring in the authorities. The problem with that is that the business involved was a strip club and John Law is bad for the booby-shaking business.<br />
<br />
"If this is how you're going to do your job now, then maybe I should reconsider having you on my payroll!" Later, after he'd had drinks with Evelyn Dusenberry, his secretary, and listened to that 40s music he loved so much, he'd realize that if I could have fixed the problem any other way I would have.<br />
<br />
But right now he was having none of it and frankly, neither was I. I walked out of his office in mid scream, nodded to the long-legged Ms. Dusenberry in the anteroom, and rode my Yamaha Striker back to my condo. Max wanted us to have some time apart and I was going to take it.<br />
<br />
</div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-13272194104922598752012-10-18T20:13:00.001-04:002012-10-18T20:13:44.721-04:00Do you really want to hurt me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">A charge of the religious-based retreat I went on a few weeks back is to go out into the world and share your faith. In the context of that, I have been thinking a lot about my people problem. That is to say, I dislike lots of contact with people. And in reflecting on it I have gotten some insights as to why I have the problem.<br />
<br />
Part of the reason I have this problem is that I find contact with people fatiguing. And that's because there are few people with whom I feel I can truly be myself. A lot of people can relax when they are around other people. That actually makes me tense. I have to do the social thing as an active pursuit. It's work. It's not unlike people's problem with public speaking, only all the time on everything.<br />
<br />
Where that falls into the realm of ACoA is secret-keeping. I feel like I'm putting on a false front, because if I acted as a felt, no one would want to be around. Or at least that's what I think or feel. But another thing I have realized about people is that for me for the most part people equal pain.<br />
<br />
People hurt my feelings, even the people who are supposed to care about me. People tease even when it's no longer amusing to me. People let me down. People basically suck. I have also realized that this is really a child's view and experience of people, socialization, and companionship.<br />
<br />
There are many positive benefits to hanging out with other people. There are a lot of joys and laughs. There is support, if you think people's assertions of support are valid. But for me, I am still in the nascent stages of emotional development, where the pain is much stronger in effect or importance than the pleasure.<br />
<br />
The equation is still in imbalance. I need for people letting me down to not hurt so much, for it not to count so much. In a different context, I have told people "Don't say 'Don't take it personally', because I take everything personally." That's ACoA traits at work.<br />
<br />
But what I have to figure out, if it is able to be figured out, is how to lessen how much something hurts. But now at least, I have a better understanding of my condition. I doubt I will ever be an extrovert. But perhaps being so introverted won't be as debilitating anymore.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Culture Club<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/2nXGPZaTKik" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-11195350628002661952012-10-12T00:09:00.000-04:002012-10-12T08:51:05.736-04:00I'm a loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Apparently, I am some really powerful stuff, because here we are more than a year past when <b>she</b> dumped <i>me</i>, and yet I am still the subject of Stella's blog. I had pretty much given up reading her blog, as the person that I am now is so far removed from the person who would have been in a relationship with her.<br />
<br />
However, she has maintained relationships with other people that I know, so it came to my attention that yet again I was the subject of her blog. It's basically just more of the same: exaggerations, mischaracterizations, and absolute lies about me. She topped this by branding me with the epithet of "Loser". She is a fan of Glee, so I guess that's where she gets it from. Or maybe it's indicative of her maturity level. She even threw in a shot at Kathy.<br />
<br />
How crazy was it? So crazy that even Portia couldn't believe Stella had written it. Kathy was a bit concerned that I would be bothered by the blog post, but it really doesn't bother me that much. I'm writing <b>this</b> blog post mostly as catharsis to get it all out of my system, because she isn't worth me spending any more time on it from this point forward.<br />
<br />
I have said to Kathy more than once that I wish I knew what I did to cause Stella to hate me so. But now I don't even care. Because, frankly, anyone who is still this fixated on someone <b>she</b> dropped is, well, a loser.<br />
<br />
<hr/><i>Soy un perdedor!</i><br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YgSPaXgAdzE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div><br />
Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-74900760168480445212012-09-26T13:14:00.000-04:002012-09-26T13:14:06.509-04:00Ciribiribin<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;"><br />
I'm not quite sure if this fits in at all with being an adult child of an alcoholic, but I thought I would share with you a mysterious thing that happens to me from time to time, this time involving the song Ciribiribin.<br />
<br />
Ciribiribin is a ballad by Italian songwriter Alberto Pestalozza. It was a standard of the big band era, recorded by a number of people including Frank Sinatra. How I came to focus on it was through a recent listening to the song Java Jive by the Ink Spots.<br />
<br />
In the song at one point whomever is the lead sings<br />
<blockquote><i>You know, well I'm not keen about a bean,<br />
Unless it is a cheery cheery bean.</i></blockquote>As it turns out, that line was supposed to be a pun and should have been sung<br />
<blockquote><i>You know, well I'm not keen about a bean,<br />
Unless it is a <span style="color:#330066;">cheery <strong>beery</strong> bean</span>.</i></blockquote>This is roughly how the song name is pronounced in Italian.<br />
<br />
Spurred on by reading how the lyric was supposed to go, I found a copy of Benny Goodman's band with Harry James on lead trumpet doing this song. I found it familiar and then remembered that I had heard it before for many many years as part of Glenn Miller's Jukebox Saturday Night. Since the Ink Spots section of JSN is a faux Ink Spots tune, I had always assumed the Harry James section was just a generic song to show off trumpet playing.<br />
<br />
I also came to find that it was Harry James's signature song. I was aware who Harry James was of course, but only as a name in jazz history just as J.E.B. Stuart is only a name in American history to me (and war comic books, but I digress).<br />
<br />
Well, and this is where my personality if not being an ACoA came in, I began listening to the song a lot. I mean obsessively. I found many different recordings of it, including several by James himself. There was a point were I "had" to listen to it at least once a day.<br />
<br />
It was not long after I decided that I would write about the song that it finally stopped being a haunting presence in my life. I have no idea why I was drawn to the song and I will probably be drawn to it from this point forward. I say this because a similar thing happened with the song Perfidia many years before and it hasn't abated.<br />
<br />
But, as I said, these things sometimes come over me out of nowhere and I just have to ride them out and deal. The joys of being me.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Harry James<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/r9rujlS4wbM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-9722534531870007262012-09-18T13:04:00.000-04:002012-09-18T13:04:05.576-04:00Question<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;"><blockquote style="border : solid 3px navy; padding : 5px; width : 45%;background-color : #eeddff ; color : black;"><i>But in the grey of the morning<br />
My mind becomes confused<br />
Between the dead and the sleeping<br />
And the road that I must choose.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size:x-small;">— Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues</span></blockquote>I have warned most of the people I am close to that if you find me listening to the Moody Blues then it's best if you just leave me alone because I am in a bad place. Well since I am opening with a Moody Blues lyric, consider yourself warned.<br />
<br />
A few days ago I sold the car I drove down here in. It's now something like 16 years old and it was time for it to go. But it bothered me to sell it because of links to two friends. Because of a problem with my finances, I had to borrow money from one of my friends to pay for it. But the part germane to today's post is that I bought it off of another friend.<br />
<br />
I worked with him in radio and in an effort to feed his children he also started working as a sales rep for an automobile dealership. I have no idea if he gave me a good deal or a bad deal. I needed a car and he sold me one. He was a man of faith who walked his talk.<br />
<br />
Oddly, he was a lot like Job in that he just kept getting crappy thing after crappy thing thrown at him, but he never once renounced God, even after his step children had scrapes with the law, even after his wife left him after an affair with a church official, even after he suffered a devastating physical illness that eventually cost him his life.<br />
<br />
Because it was a tangible link to my late friend, I hated to get rid of the car. It did not rest easy with me, even though I know it was the right decision. However, he came to me in a dream and assured me that it was all right and so was he.<br />
<br />
Dead people have come to me in dreams before to tell me things. And they are usually also a portent of a shift in my life paradigm. So what comes next? Watch this space.<br />
<br />
<blockquote style="border : solid 3px navy; padding : 5px; width : 45%;background-color : #ddccff ; color : black;"><i>And when you stop and think about it<br />
You won't believe it's true<br />
That all the love you've been giving<br />
Has all been meant for you.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size:x-small;">— Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues</span></blockquote><hr/><blockquote style="border : solid 3px navy; padding : 5px; width : 45%;background-color : #ddccff ; color : black;"><i>To learn as we grow old<br />
The secrets of our souls.</i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size:x-small;">— Justin Hayward of the Moody Blues</span></blockquote><br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yE0r9QEK5MI" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-52863816194914373202012-09-10T12:26:00.000-04:002012-09-10T12:26:16.629-04:00Sadness of Soul<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Cleveland Browns Stadium, the current home of the Cleveland Browns football team, has developed a nickname over its existence, the House of Sadness. And it was in the wake of another Browns loss that I realized something about me and sadness that, well, made me sad: sadness is my default emotion.<br />
<br />
It seems like if I am not feeling something else specifically regarding my immediate circumstances, I feel sad. I feel there is at the core of my being a palpable sadness, a profound lack.<br />
<br />
As to what I am lacking, I cannot say. My life, while not perfect, is actually rather good. My current thought is that it is a reflection of my continued reluctance to accept myself as I am. I am taking the desire to be more, do more, and have more as an indictment of who I am and what I have done.<br />
<br />
This is an old program that needs to be overwritten with zeroes, the idea that if I am not where I would like to be that somehow where I am, what I am, who I am is wrong. It comes from dealing with fulfilling the expectations of others and apparently something I have internalized.<br />
<br />
From other things I have worked on in my life, I know that awareness is the first piece. But, as I am also fond of saying: I've identified the problem. Now what?<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Felix Mendelssohn<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xEEs5EoSS1s" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-40255872027505658712012-08-27T11:16:00.000-04:002012-08-27T11:16:51.015-04:00Well, I think it's going to be all right.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">I heard on the news this morning that it was just about a year ago that Hurricane Irene came through the North Carolina community in which I live. The hurricane was the marker of an important change in my life.<br />
<br />
Right before the hurricane, I had to put down my dog who had been with me for all but a few months of my entire time living here. And then, during the hurricane, my now ex-girlfriend Stella took the decision of ending our relationship out of my hands when she dropped me via text message.<br />
<br />
That was my high bottom for being an adult child of an alcoholic and I started working the steps in earnest and started writing this blog. Since that time I have written a novel, had my new girlfriend Kathy move in with me, and gotten divorced from Portia.<br />
<br />
There are some adjustments going on dealing with my living with another human being, but things are a lot better for me than they were a year ago. I'm often happy and even more often content.<br />
<br />
I'm sorry that I haven't been updating this regularly, but my life is very full at the moment. I'm trying to come up with a frequency I can sustain but that allows me to do the many other things in life I love. I'll see if I can figure out.<br />
<br />
Oddly, even a year later, Stella still talks about me in her blog, although thankfully less frequently. Portia is still being as demented regarding Tina as she was in the spring, so I may have to consider other options where that is concerned.<br />
<br />
But as for me, I have moved on and life is good.<br />
<br />
<hr/>Yeah, the worst is over now. The morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/EbDKN0dk54M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-36203347271173247052012-04-11T10:56:00.000-04:002012-04-11T10:56:04.767-04:00Sacrifice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Well, just as I had gotten back on track, the last few days of my Easter trip derailed me from posting here. It was a good time and worth the sacrifice, but I still wish I had written.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Elton John<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RLFJARmnBvg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-62552140373597518822012-04-06T09:23:00.001-04:002012-04-06T09:23:57.971-04:00I need a hero<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Last night, traveling from one side of Ohio to the other, I got caught in a very large, very slow moving (as in stopped) traffic jam. And I was still trying to deal emotionally with having accidentally had my girlfriend's jewelry thrown away. And my baseball team had lost the game. And I needed a sponsor.<br />
<br />
And that is problem with having had to take myself through the program, is that in times where I can feel the old feelings and old programming creeping in, I have no one to call to help boost me back to my new behaviors. It is hard being your own hero.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Bonnie Tyler<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OBwS66EBUcY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-60708928052972338422012-04-04T23:35:00.000-04:002012-04-04T23:35:15.979-04:00Because sometimes there's not plenty of time.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">His name was Frank. He was a lover of the English language, good writing, science fiction, and comic books. And he loved Deep Space Nine. He and I got along wonderfully in the comic book forum where we met. We always talked about meeting each other, but never did anything about it. I wasn't worried. There was plenty of time.<br />
<br />
And then one day, as a complication from a recent medical procedure, he died. There was not plenty of time. I thought of him as I met with others from the comic book forum today. Connect with someone today.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
For Frank<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ORp0T6zYByM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8303649.post-78919258459514441442012-04-04T23:06:00.001-04:002012-04-04T23:06:46.235-04:00So you had a bad day...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family:verdana;">Weeks ago I found out the Cleveland Indians were going to play their High-A affiliate the Carolina Mudcats, so I bought tickets and planned to take Kathy and Tina as part of my meandering sojourn north to visit Ohio.<br />
<br />
Well, because of how Kathy had to come to where I live, she was unable to go. And because Portia is withholding Tina right now, she was unable to go. So with these strikes already against me, I ventured out to watch the game alone. I get to the intersection right outside the ball park and the car just dies.<br />
<br />
So I walk to the ballpark to watch some of the game while I wait for the tow truck to arrive. I get back and I have to be towed to a town a half an hour away. I have to rent a car. And on the way out with the rental car, I get a ticket for speeding.<br />
<br />
Today, as I am wending my way further north, I find out it's the timing belt, which is not a cheap repair. But the wonderful thing is that I didn't freak out about any of it. I wasn't stress and took it all in stride. It all doesn't ride on one roll of the dice anymore. And I am happy for that.<br />
<br />
<hr/><br />
Daniel Powter. See, I <b>have</b> heard of music past 1985.<br />
<br />
<div style="margin:auto;text-align:center;"><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YKzYo-nI23M" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div></div></div>Lightning Manhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03187153278621251493noreply@blogger.com0