The Daily (W)Rite September 2o15 WK o3

1am

Watching the Verdict (1982) as I type a few words down to start this 3rd week of September. I remember seeing The Verdict back when it first came out, and I didn't think much of it. But looking at it 2o15, I think I was a little harsh on it. Damn good movie.

I don't have much to say tonight . . . this morning, I mean. Just felt like  . . . putting a few words down . . . Hell, I'm rambling, repeating myself. Got a dentist appointment tomorrow. Loosened a tooth by accidently biting down on an apple seed. Haven't been to a dentist since I lost the "good job" and the insurance that went along with it. But I got some money saved and I want to do whatever I can to keep my teeth. I'd like to keep them in my head for when I die. I know, weird, huh? Went to this "bone" museum a few months back and the guy who runs the place said they actually BUY skulls from people . . . well, of course, they don't take possession until after you die . . . but the price that they pay for a skull is based on how many teeth are in the head. The more teeth, the more money he'll shell out. Now, I'm not planning to sell my skull to anybody . . . I just like to know that when I die my skull would fetch a decent price . . . I don't know . . . I find it somehow . . . spiritually comforting. Plus, I like to eat apples and burgers with bacon and lots of onions! Hard to eat things like that without real teeth!

Wednesday, September 16, 2o15
My lungs were happy when I finally stopped the damn peddling and slid off the bike. It was a good ride, relatively easy and my lungs needed to get out onto the street and stretch their metaphorical legs! The rest of my body sort of laughed at the lungs. They're such complainers. But when I opened the door and stepped into the freezer like environment of the dentist's office, my body began to sweat as it realized: Damn, it's hot outside this building!

They pulled one tooth and set me up another appointment to extracted another . . .and then? A partial plate, new one so I can eat. I was happy to find out my dentist (who looks like she's ten years old) thought my teeth, overall, where in pretty good shape. I do confess that I was a bit squeamish about getting a tooth pulled. I hate pain (my lungs are secretly chuckling at me as I write this). But it was like nothing! "Wow!" my teenage dentist said, "that was easy!" And it was! Hell the shots to numb my mouth hurt more, took longer than the extraction.

"Can I see it?" "Sure," my Game of Thrones loving, preteen dentist said as she pulled the tray over to me. And there it was my poor dead tooth. He looked good, like himself he looked. He had been with me a long time . . . how many cheeseburgers piled high with onions had we shared? How many long, deep, wet  French kisses had we savored together? How many . . . it was like a funeral, a funeral for a living part of me that now laid motionless upon a paper towel on a stainless steel tray. "Can I keep it?" "Of course," the dentist said quietly, "but you know it will get brittle after awhile and will slowly disintegrate." "What if I put it in alcohol?" "Well, that won't help." I must have looked very sad and disappointed because she and her assistant (who looked even younger) exited the room leaving me and my old friend alone to say our final goodbyes.

1o:23pm

I've had three hours worth of GOP debate, and one thing is perfectly clear to me . . .  I'm scared shitless of CONservatives . . . BOY! Even scarier? From a few of them, I liked what I was hearing! Rubio took off the school-boy pants and said some things that made sense, AND said them with conviction and authority. Fiorina took the good ol' boys to task . . . Trump, who's your mamma now? Donny Boy is still strutting around like he won . . . but he got his toupee yanked tonight!

Okay, now I'm ready for the Liberals to get out there on the stage and tell us what they are gonna do for AMERICA! I do love the political season!



Thursday, September 17, 2o15

Pain killers. For the tooth that left home. Mellowed out. Mind. Body. I'm hoping I can recreate this feeling without PKs. A spiritual high. I miss that feeling I once had . . . no pain . . . no thought or memory that could unravel my being. When I was younger, off drugs, working out . . . life just felt . . .clean. An adventurous soul. The wonder of it all. I miss that. The wonder of it all. I miss that.
I don't miss youth. Just the spirit of youth.

Me and David talk to a lot of shop girls, girls working in the restaurants, clothing stores in the mall, at the dentist's office.  Shop girls like talking to us even though we rarely buy anything. But they seem to think we're funny, pleasant, nice old men. Safe we are. Not sure I like the idea of being so old that I'm "safe." But then again, it's nice to just be able to talk to someone and to know there isn't any suspicion . . . "What is that old guy up to?" Matter of facts I like being an old guy. I just don't want to be old in my heart, in my mind. Eternal kid. that's a nice thing to strive for. Eternal kid.

Friday, September 18, 2o15
Okay, I need to STOP watching the news! Okay, at least, I need to STOP watching so MUCH of MSNBC AND Trump coverage. I'm driving myself crazy over this stuff. The things this guy says about women, men, our President, our veterans? This guy goes on about how he can do everything better than anybody, "Hey! I gonna run the military so good it will make your head swim." "I love women, I'm gonna take care of women." And today he had this urgent message for:
“The Christians are being treated horribly because we have nobody to represent the Christians. Believe me, if I run and I win, I will be the greatest representative of the Christians they’ve had in a long time.”

Okay, I do get mad at this nonsense, how Trump is going to take care of us all because we don't know how to take care of ourselves and the president we have now (Obama) is "Stupid."But my anger comes directly from: how Trump's attitude scares the hell out of me. The POTUS does not take care of us. Tyrants, dictators take care of their people. American citizens have an obligation to take care of each other.  But not under Emperor Trump's rule. No, we don't have to worry our pretty little noggins about anything, 'cuase Trump's gonna build a wall around America, round-up and ship off to Mexico every illegal alien, make the biggest, bad ass military-"No one will mess with us, they'll be scared to"- and get all the jobs back from China, from Russia . . .! And he's gonna ". . . be the greatest representative of the Christians they’ve had in a long time.” Total honest? I already got somebody taking care of my religious beliefs: Jesus Christ. Thanks for the thought, Trump, but I believe . . . no, I know that God's got my back covered. Or do you think you can do a better job than God?!

Sunday, September 2o, 2o15
Concerned. I'm concerned and unnerved. Last week I felt very energetic. Body was acting like a 50 year old! Writing, going out with my friend David. Reading! Yes, I got back to the joy of reading! I  don't know. I felt . . .  alive! Hell, I hate using the world "alive" to express feelings of physical and mental well being because you're always alive even when you're sick. And that is what I'm feeling right now and for the last few days . . . sick. All of a sudden I'm so tired. I feel like someone just let the energy out of me . . . I swear, I can hear that hissing sound a tire makes when you press the stem of the inner tube valve and all the air comes rushing out. Yeah, I feel like God or whoever is pressing hard on my energy stem . . . I can feel my life (there's that damn word again) rushing out of me . . . no, not rushing but slowly draining out of me. So, I wait. I sit on the couch or lie on the couch and hope that someone gets his damn finger off my damn stem before there's nothing left of be but deflated skin and bones.

It's scary this getting old thing. Not "getting" old but not being able to bounce back from illness like you used to when you were just a little younger. And the aches and pains that stay with you all the time or, at least, go away for a little while and then come back with a vengeance, more powerful and debilitating than they were before they left. Yes, I'm getting older and more venerable. I'll have to wait to see if this lethargy is a passing fad or if like RAP music . . . it's here to stay. Don't get me wrong. I like rap music . . . hate getting old.

Monday, September 21, 2o15
Dentist tomorrow. Pulling out another tooth. Hope it's the last one. The first time, a piece of yogurt pie. She didn't really need to yank, it sort just fell out. "Next one is really stuck in your jaw," she sad in a melodic whisper, "So, it may take a good tug or two." I remember sighing real big when she said that. So, that means going back on the yogurt diet for at least three days . . . canned chili if my mouth can take it. Not a bad way to live. Might try some sushi too. Sushi's soft.

A stiff breeze from the air-conditioner attacking the back of my neck. The hairs on my neck waving to some unseen shadow that swims by behind me. Sunset saying, "So long!" as it moves to another part of the Earth. No messages from the moon these last three night. No phone calls. I hope she's not still mad at me. She discovered that I was having an intimate relationship with a star. I think her name was Vega, but in all honesty, it could have been a planet . . . Venus . . . maybe. I am a horrible boyfriend and an even worse adulterer.

It is the last day of the third week in September and I probably won't write much more. However, so much has happened these passed weeks that I didn't get down because of time and because . . . I didn't feel up to writing much. So, tune in next time. Brand new stories to be told in the final days of September, 2o15.