The Bostonian Abroad

The only one who gets it will get it, which explains things. Ba-fucking-oo. I just wanted to share a thought with the universe. Nothing deep or meaningful. I don't know who the fuck I am supposed to be. I can't be who I used to be --for various reasons. Who I was might very likely get me thrown in jail nowadays. Plus, who I was seems to have worsened into some evil asshole anyway, so I can't be THAT anymore. And on this medicated existence, I feel, but not really. It's like I am watching my life and not really in it. I don't really know how to describe it. Tourism? I feel things, but not with any depth, which is probably good, given that I'm a prick when at full-bore. Most of my non-work life is spent sleeping or lounging. I just do not have any desire to do anything else. I've gained a medium-sized pygmy in weight, so my cardio-vascular health is probably none-too exemplary. So here I am, 42, fat, drugged, and happy, sort of. I kind of f...

He would probably not want me to do this, but too bad. I'm alive and he's dead. He was my grandfather. He lived from around 1905 to 1973. He was born in the Boston area and had siblings that he apparently had to raise because his dad died. When he married my grandmother, Helena "Edna" Francis, he had already basically raised a family and had no interest in having one of his own. My grandmother had different ideas. She was a force of nature, so he relented and my mother was born in 1937. The war broke out for the US in 1941, and he went down to the war department several times, begging to be accepted. He was old already, but finally, they let him in. He went into the US Navy. He ended up in Hawaii. He was stationed, I'm told, aboard an aircraft carrier, and he saw action in the Pacific theater. The only stories I have of this period of his life are 1. He watched helplessly as his best friend was killed in a Kamikaze attack, allegedly seeing the plane hit his fr...

Well, they got the kid. I was glued to the news that whole last day, flipping from HLN, to CNN, to FoxNews, and even to AlJazeera at one point. I was desperate to be there with my people in any way I could reasonably manage. Finally, I ended up on CNN on the TV, FoxNews on the computer, and the Live Scanner on the computer as well. The scanner turned out to be the most interesting and revealing, and I was able to figure out what they were saying based on my experience in security in Boston and Henniker. I was heartened to hear accents and voices so familiar to me, and they were all speaking in such a real and professional way. I heard the moment they announced that they had that asshole fuck in custody. Ten minutes later, the news announced it. I felt like I was right there!! I spent the next few hours celebrating on my front porch with my neighbor from New Hampshire, raising toasts of scotch and screaming out into the night that "they got that sonofabitch!!!!" And so ...

And yet, there are people out there who claim that there were not even any victims. There are people out there who claim that FEMA has actors who pretend to be victims. I read about how Jeff Bauman, the poor kid that got his legs blown off was some Afghan War vet who was just acting and that his grievous wounds were just a lot of plastic and makeup. This is outrageous! It is EVIL. It needs to be, it DEMANDS to be opposed, fought against, obstructed, shouted at, fought at ever turn. Why? Because the victims are being victimized all over again for the selfish, sick pleasure of keyboard cowards, people who would never dare to shout their claims in the places these atrocities happened or in front of the homes of the victims. These cowardly people will scan the Internet to find all manner of photos to "prove" that the bombing was a fake, that the victims were actors, that the dead are not dead. Imagine that you are Jeff Bauman, and you come across the ridiculous photos compar...

This is what I should be doing. There is a whole lot I should be doing. I have umpteen things on my to-do list. And yet, here I sit, on my man chair, watching TV yet again. It's Sunday. the weather outside is bright and clear, with a perfect temperature of 70-something. But I am hiding indoors. The sun is so bright, and I can still feel the sunburn on my face from my long drive yesterday to South Carolina and back. Seems I did not use enough sunscreen. The sickeningly thick yellow pollen of the Piedmont of North Carolina coats everything, and my allergies are going mad. I'm on a Fexophenadine and two benadryls, and this is keeping the sneezing and itching eyes from becoming unbearable. And so I sit indoors once again, waiting to feel ready to go out and do something with the myself. I feel guilty to be "wasting" this beautiful day, like I always do. But does this guilt move me off my butt and into action? No. I will go when I feel like going; all I wish is not t...

It is official. I am, as of the 14th of March, 2013, divorced. You know the bad thing about it? I had to hire a lawyer to process the damned paperwork because it was so hard to do it myself I could not begin to figure it out! Plus, I'd have had to go to court dates and miss work, which would have sucked. Why do they make the paperwork so hard for a simple, uncontested divorce? Feels like a boondoggle to me!!! Anyways, I now face the future with the complete certainty that I am unattached, unmarried, unconnected, and free to define life as I see fit. No regrets, no looking back. Peace and Long Life. . . .

Recently, I decided to look into the option of getting allergy shots. I asked around, especially on the FaceBooks, and found many an opinion in favor of getting them. So I made an appointment at my local allergy doc. Now, I have gotten allergy shots before. I was eleven. I got the scratch test and virtually everything swelled up. I started getting the shots and my arm swelled up like a balloon, so I ended up stopping the shots. Cut to 30 years later and I am back in the doctor's office, getting the scratches. Again, most everything came up and I was told I was a candidate for allergy shots. Ya THINK?????? Hence, I began a regular schedule of driving up to Raleigh twice a week to get stuck in both arms --twice a week!! I get two shots in my right arm and one shot in my left. Almost immediately, I noticed a stiff neck on my left side. At first, I thought it was related to some heavy lifting I had been doing around that time, but the pain persisted for over a week. Also, I starte...