Unforeseen changes

I had started another post as the spring began, but things have taken an unwanted (although not unexpected) turn - I was laid off from my job on March 28th.  I could feel something wasn't right - this began in the autumn - and in the last few weeks, it became much more uncomfortable.  I even said as much in my last post.  I had a sense of dread on Friday, which is something that doesn't often happen, but it did.  I packed my things and left quickly and quietly and now I'm trying to do everything possible to find something immediately.

It doesn't matter if it's part-time, full-time, contracted, etc. - I just want to be able to get back to working as quickly as possible.  I'm keeping myself occupied and focused and not allowing myself to slip into a state of panic or fear.  Moving forward and keeping positive is the only way to navigate things.

I've sent out numerous resumes (even before this happened); I accept and will take any interviews that are offered; been to meet with a headhunter in person and went to the Department of Labor to make sure that my signing-on for unemployment was done correctly and to set up meetings with their job search team.

This isn't a time for self-pity or hadn-wringing; it just needs to be done.  And in those hours when I've exhausted the tasks necessary, I'll go to the gym to help my body and mind.

It's all anyone can do.

Steps away now...

Thirteen days and counting until spring is official. The sun is shining through my window and it negates any need for lights.  The transition to daylight savings time was not even noticed - I slept soundly and solidly last night.  For all of the tensions and discomforts I've had recently, at the moment, I'm calm.  I did a lot of reading this weekend, having caught up (finally!) with all the magazines I get, especially the literary ones; I even re-found my footing and did my first album review in a while.  That was nice, as the music is good and I know what I'm writing about is true/accurate.  This will go live tomorrow morning - it's oddly exciting again.

These last few weeks have been tougher; certainly more difficult than it's been for a while, including after the medical procedure.  All of my orbits and atmospheres have been heavy and uncomfortable.  I feel a sense of uncertainty that I refuse to let turn into outright dread; hence, joy of a weekend like the one that just passed.  Did nothing to make myself anxious, uptight, nervous, projecting, etc.  Every time I felt a twinge of uneasiness, I'd think of something else; divert my attentions.  Subsequently, I'm in an okay mindspace today.

So much so that I did decide that this coming weekend, I would finally get one of the guitars - probably the Taylor - out and start to revisit things.  Refamiliarize myself with the songs I haven't touched in years now.  I don't know what it may mean - maybe nothing at all - but I think it's because I just want to do it.  No other motive or reason really necessary.

It doesn't hurt that a bad hockey season is giving way to the start of another baseball season - which firmly says "warmer weather is here".  Thus, I'm trying to gather all the positives to make them a good buffer in case of interference.

For S.C. - 10

I was initially going to write this on Friday - which was the 10-year anniversary of Susan's passing.  She was my first long-term/serious relationship and I am still pained by the fact that she was taken too early.  I don't think I have much I can say that won't sound like forced and over-dramatic emotions for the sake of writing.  But I will say this much:

We were together for seven and a half years.  We were young - I was 21; she was 18, when we met.  In many ways, we grew up together and then apart.  We had many wonderful times and some not-so-great moments, especially in the last half-year of our relationship.

We never spoke again, after our final phone conversation - ironically, it was on Valentine's Day, 1994.  It was a very long, sad and sweet exchange.  And even though we never did talk to one another again, after all those years, she was always going to remain a part of me.

39 years after we met and now 10 years since she's gone, she is still a part of me.  She always will be.

Game changers

There are two separate schools of thought for this posting.

This past Sunday, for the first time in my life - and fourteen years after I first planned on doing it - I went for a spa day on Staten Island.  I had bought myself a "package" for a complete day last June and I finally found the right time - now that the surgery is long over, a quiet holiday weekend, etc.  I'm so glad I did it and will now do so regularly.  It did wonders for me - mentally and physically.  The staff were incredible - beyond kind and helpful.  Starting the proceedings with a warm towel and espresso to laying out the day's plans, a fantastic lunch and genuine professionalism and personality.  I couldn't have asked for better.  What made it even greater was that it was an ugly, cold, rainy day, so it wasn't wasted indoors.  Jesus - even my nails and eyebrows look great - seriously!

At the opposite end, I received very sad and upsetting news on Tuesday - the drummer for the band that influenced me the most during my teen years; the band that pointed my way forward and changed the game for me, died suddenly on Monday, after a brief illness.  Hearing this caught me off-guard and left me very shaken.  Rick Buckler was the driving powerhouse behind The Jam for the whole of their career.  After their split in '82, he was in a very good and completely overlooked group called Time U.K., who put out some great singles.  I never had the pleasure or privilege of meeting him, but he was, from all accounts, a very good person.  And I know he was appreciated by me.  Godspeed, Mr. Buckler.

Always looking forward - no time for backward

Already a month into this year and I'm already 60 years old; the country has changed Presidents and people have gone right back into the same embarrassing behaviors they had at least nearly a decade ago.  I can no longer digest nor allow my time to be wasted or compromised - whatever you want to call it - with listening to the same shit over and over again.  The sputtering garbage that long-time, real-world friends are coming up with; the wild-eyed frenzy is too much unnecessary work.  I used to have a very fair approach - whatever your views are, I respect you; you're my friend, etc. 

Now, it's very clear that people will sacrifice their families, friends, spouses - you name it - in the name of their violently misguided, evangelical and misinformed "politics".  They want people to lose jobs; expose home addresses and be harmed/actually call for murder.  If this is your stance, you're not welcome in my orbit at all.  I won't even listen to you - you cross that line; you're dead to me.  It's not some overdramatic hyperbole or self-righteousness on my part - if you're that unhinged about something that actually doesn't really affect your life and never has, I want nothing to do with it. 

As I've said on many occasions, I don't know why so many people I've respected - especially friends I've had for decades - have gone in this kind of direction.  I can pinpoint a few possible reasons why, but it doesn't justify their actions towards their own family, loved ones, etc.  It's become a fanaticism; a cult-like approach and I can easily live without their incessant barking of the memorized script.  It's a lunacy there is no cure for.

On the upside, my use and time spent on social media is decreased by about 90%.  Not an exaggeration.  I don't interact on Facebook; I don't care for Instagram and Twitter/X is mildly entertaining.  TikTok is clearly for disturbed narcissists, and I've never indulged.  I'm far too happy at the moment to allow all these nonsensical outside "influences" derail things.  

Ever since my surgery, I'm feeling alright and always looking to feel even better; I'm going to the gym this weekend; I have a urology appointment on Friday (and I didn't need the bloodtest) and a spa day during the long weekend in two weeks.  This year's vacation is already booked, down to the last detail and work is enjoyable.

I won't sacrifice any of the good things I have in my life. Not even for old friends.  They're not that important anymore.  We're not teenagers; we're not young - life is about growth and change.  Not regression and a return to adolescence.

Who knows where the time goes?

Yes, I'm well aware that's Sandy Denny's most well-known and well-beloved song, but when you reach your 60th birthday, it seems quite appropriate.

What can I say?  Did I ever envision this - getting to this plateau in life?  Not sure - especially in light of the health issues of the last two years.  I remain vigilantly optimistic that the procedure in October has given me a positive extension and will hopefully stave off any major issues, so that's one thing to consider.  And I've been rebooting and starting to exercise again and mold my dietary intake very differently.  

I don't know if there's anything spectacular about this particular milestone birthday, but I do know I feel different.  What that difference is right now, I don't know.  But I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Reset and go...

And so the New Year begins and waking up to horrible news was not how I envisioned things to kick off 2025.  This New Orleans terrorist attack is not shocking, but it's beyond proper description and has clouded the day.

On the whole, last night - which has now become anti-climactic, when you don't drink, go out or party - was wonderfully calm, relaxing and quiet.  A light meal, some decent T.V. and a few texts and phone calls were just right.  The only minor drawback was I couldn't sleep - and somehow found myself watching a mini-marathon of old "Behind The Music" episodes on VH-1.  The year starts as a flashback!

So it's immediately back to work tomorrow; it should remain low-key, until at least Monday, when everyone is back and a very basic weekend of groceries and minor chores.

I can easily enjoy the start of my 60th year under these terms.

Happy New Year to all.