I've had a good morning here in Southern Alabama. Actually, I never thought I'd ever say something like that, but what the hell! It started out with a nice visit from my grand-daughter Shelby yesterday, where we talked about my sad future. She still cares and I'm very grateful.
This morning I wobbled onto the trike and headed towards the ocean. There's some great spots around me down here, all actually within walking distance, but I choose to ride today.
The ocean is what this area is all about and it doesn't disappoint, ever. It's really calming and I love it and I'm really glad to be here.
Then I drove up to the Circle K for coffee. A lot of friendly folks said good morning, with sincerity, and complimented my trike as I sat on the ice cases out front.
I finished up the morning with a breakfast of sausage biscuits and gravy at the local bakery, before coming home.
I realize I'm not an ideal man and I'm so far away from that point, it's laughable. But if you came up with a definition for that, like what defines a ten in the world of modern American men, where would you or the man you love, land?
I know one, my son back in the Seattle area. He's a ten in everyone's book, his wife and young girls, and the people he does business with. I would also have to say the same about my grand daughter Shelby's man Dan.
As my own life crumbles, I look around me and wish I could have landed so much better, but I have not. I'm a drunk, of which neither of those are. I have no career, I have no integrity, and I have no partner.
I try to come up with a number for myself and the best I can do, is five! As I watch the world news, I see real assholes out there, men and women who don't even deserve a number much less a life. I have not fallen to that level thank god. I respect the world around me and the people who live in it.
Many times I don't respect myself, but I stop there. Everyone deserves respect from the world, until they don't by their actions. Over the years I have helped people rise to respect, and I am proud of that, one of the best things as a man I have done.
Lately I notice people around me trying to do the same for me, and I am very grateful. I don't know what's wrong, I really try but I fail, like I have now. I try to justify things like "at least I'm not a mass murderer!" or "at least I'm a good guy!", but all of that falls empty on the worlds ears, if I can't stop drinking...
My dear close friend of many decades, Sherry from California, follows my convoluted life and thinks the solution is am alcoholic rehab live-in center. Not just a place to live but a place to learn and recover.
I think she is right, and I would give my life to that God, if they would have me...
Well folks, I think my days as a wild, do what I want kind of man are finally almost over. It's been a big job lately, and I haven't done it well, in fact I've sucked at it.
I'm meting with grand-daughter Shelby tomorrow morning to talk about putting me in a retirement home. Not the kind where you run free and do your thing, but one more structured.
I'm finally ready for it, and I had to undergo the last couple of days to realize that. I've been a headstrong stupid old man lately, and I know that I've been foolish and wrong.
This is the kind of place that takes care of everything, and expects you to go along with it and smile. I'm ready, it beats the fuck out of shooting myself out in the dessert with a bottle of vodka jammed down my throat.
My family is not happy with me and neither am I. It's time for change.
Dear family,
You have talked about picking up the trailer (which is my current home) on Oct 15th. Thats 3 weeks away, and I have no idea what to do after that.
I've hurt myself, must have damaged a rib, and I get the drift of this conversation. You want to put me away, I've pushed everyone around me too far, and it's time to give it up.
I know you've been talking to Riley, and Dan, and I'm sure many others. I have reached my limit and it's time to check out. Move into a nursing home, give my income to them and let them take over my life.
I've been in the transportation business a very long time, and I've seen this play out many times. There's always the punch line, "Oh he will be so much more happier!", but nobody asks the person who's going under what he want's.
Hey, what would you do in this situation Shelby? Or you Riley or you Dan. There is no answer. We have lived our lives making trouble for people in the end, and it's time we give it up. How about a bunch of eighteen year old virgins and a couple bottles of vodka instead? Then you can just drop me off in a wilderness canyon with a shotgun, and drive off!
I know there's no good answer, I've seen it many times. So here's my answer, what the fuck, why not. You don't have to approach me with a speech and a nice place to end, I know the drill, and the wrap.
It's time for me to get out of your hair...
Well I fucked up again. God, how many times I'd love to go though my old pathetic life without having to mutter those words, but I'm not there yet.
I realized that recently after going through an amazing experience that I had no idea how I arrived at, and then when free, tried to resolve the process of understanding how I got there in the first place.
It all started by knocking off a liter of cheap Russian vodka, when I was massively depressed, and then decided to go for a ride on my electric Trike.
Never a good idea and I woke up in a mental hospital emergency room, in a white gown with an IV in my left arm.
I had no idea how I got there. Nobody could tell me anything other then I had an accident while out riding my bike and hurt my lower chest. All I knew was that I had something in my arm that I needed to get free of.
It's all really blurry now but I do remember pulling it out and bleeding all over, than having them ram it back up in there. That's when I was told about hurting myself falling off the bike and that I needed to get better.
Well, I did quite the job telling them I didn't want it, and just wanted to go home. I succeeded and when I woke up after getting home, my lower right ribcage hurt like hell.
I realize now as I write this, that my grand-daughter and my son are pretty disgusted with the old man, I have no idea what to do next, and my lower chest is in a lot of pain.
And I need to get on the phone and track down my bike with the local sheriff's departments. I can't believe I've fucked up again this bad. I really don't know what to do, and I've ended up with nobody around me willing to help.
And I can't blame them in the slightest.
Someone close to me has sent several long wordy texts to me, telling me how awful I am, what a bad man I am, and how they don't want anything more to do with me, ever again.
I could post them here and let the world decide if she's right, but I won't. I will just accept the fact that she feels the way she does.
I honestly don't consider myself a bad man, I don't intentionally try to hurt people, I don't think, but maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I am all the horrible things she thinks I am.
That's a hard thing to come to grips with if she's right. I'm almost eighty, I'm stubborn and opinionated, it comes with the age. But in my core I think I'm an honest caring human.
I don't hate anyone, I don't wish ill will upon anyone, I'm just a sad lonely old man, it is what it is, and I'm certainly not the first.
The problem is, she's also my landlord, thus the reason I'm getting kicked out of this trailer.
So in case you were wondering, that's the story.
Well I tried to start drinking again, and I didn't like it. Now what? Maybe something harder, like heroin. Hell I wouldn't even know where to buy it.
I've been burying myself in code, just to hide the reality of living. But the reality is still here. I'll soon be homeless and I need to deal with that.
And I'm angry at myself for being such a coward. I should just end my life, that would solve a lot of problems. And who am I fooling to think I can just step up to the highway, stick my thumb out and start a new life?
I really don't know what to do, fuck life...
It's 0930 on a Sunday morning, and I just made my first drink. Man even when I used to drink I never started this early. I've been fucking sober all Summer, holding down a job, loving on dogs and not fighting with anyone.
All of those things no longer exist, and I'll be on the street in nine days, ten if you count today. I actually was given a thirty days notice, but I'm not going to insult the owner of this trailer park by asking for a half months rent. It's bad enough that I'm bailing on him after just one month.
It's really almost funny if it wasn't so fucked up. I lived in this trailer with no toilet or running water for two months while I worked at the resort. I showered and shit at work, and shit in the Park on my days off. I pissed out in the open of that neighborhood, behind the trailer hitch. I dumped my overnight pee jug along the fence every morning. Now I have those things available, and they soon will be gone.
I guess life comes down to where you go to the bathroom...
And it's all because I didn't want to get the floors of this RV repaired right away. I just moved in, been here less than a month, enjoying running water and being by a beach. I spent the Summer with crappy floors!
Oh well, it is what is. I have become the old asshole, and I'm being kicked out. I loved my little house at the end of Lee street in Tennessee. I could have died there and died content. But instead I was brought down to Florida, hurt everyone around me, and now I'm on the street.
I honestly don't know what comes next. Riley's offered to help me find housing, but I don't care anymore. Life is an adventure and me and my suitcase will try to find it, if I don't die of alcohol abuse first, or drown in the ocean. Rock onward!
Well I really fucked up this time. I'm being evicted from this trailer, which contains all my meager remaining possessions from almost eighty years, including the teddy bear that was given to me when I was born.
I have nowhere to go, I've burned all my bridges. It's tough being an old asshole. I saved some money from my Summer job and maybe I could take a cruise and never come back. Just get off the boat somewhere and stay there.
I honestly don't know what to do. This is probably the end of the road for my possessions, they can just drop them at the dump. Then I can pack up my suitcase, walk up to the major highway and stick my thumb out.
I really wish I had the nerve to just walk into the ocean. Maybe if I get drunk enough I won't need nerve. Fuck life, I lose.
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