Trolling For Tinfoil
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Long and windy.
It's Sunday night, the laundry is done, and I made steak for dinner.
Life is good, no?

I watched my Grandfather this morning, since no one was around to keep an eye on him. He likes his Sunday morning preachers- in his prime, he was one himself. Today, he was pretty sharp. Talkative and hungry.
Hey- At 96, he can watch whatever he damn well pleases. Given the fact that he was one of your typical fire-and-brimstone types, his fondness for Robert Schuller puzzles me- I think he admires the spectacle of it all, but the glitz is far, far away from his style. The message is the same, but the delivery was vastly different. He was/is one of those rare people that treats everyone the same, regardless of rank, wealth or character. As a missionary in Africa, he was just as at home with the penniless as he was with dignitaries- An unusual trait these days. He spent far more time with the penniless.

I made him oameal, a small serving of peaches.. And a strawberry milkshake.
I know, I know- (See the above rule about being 96...) If he wants a milkshake for breakfast, then he gets one. He insists on going to Old Country Buffet in his pajamas, so propriety is pretty much out the window anyway.

The four-day stand from hell is over, minus the usual angst and hand wringing that used to accompany those gigs. Fuck it.
It's just another bar full of your run-of-the-mill barflies. I used to be one, so don't think for a minute that I'm getting self-righteous, but I don't make it the center of my universe anymore.
That has paid off handsomely in terms of perspective.
The Ex? She was there every night save one. I made the mistake of telling someone how much work it was maintaining my sanity when she was there, so word must've gotten back. When she's in school, she doesn't work weekdays, in order to concentrate on homework. I hope it was worth it for her. It was slow, so I know she didn't make much money. I refuse to talk to her anymore than absolutely nessesary, in a "The-building-is-on-fire" kind of way. Other than that, I got nuthin'.
Oh, don't get me wrong.. I had my moments- In my mind, she should be withering away, pining for me, wishing against all odds that I'll come running back. I found it greatly annoying that she has the nerve to date someone else. It got really surreal for a moment when he sat in with us and he was singing to her, but I refuse to suck my thumb. I let her go for damn good reasons, so sucking my thumb over a natural process is just stupid. It took some work and anger to get to that point but.. It's worth it.

The dating scene for me? Well.

I wouldn't say that I'm dating- It's more like old-school courting.
Slow doesn't even begin to cover it.
We've been on two dates, a couple of stay-at-home movie nights, and I've been excusing myself at a decent hour- Minus any serious physical contact.
She is something else, let me tell ya. She has a master's degree, is a widow with no children, and is so friggin' smart, it's frightening. She's also incredibly normal, funny as hell, focused and has her own life. I have absolutley no idea what she sees in me, but I must imitate normal pretty well. She has her issues stemming from her late husband's death, but she's handled it like she does everything else. Very nuts-and-bolts, practical and with great determination. This explains the slow pace, but it's nice to see that you can like someone for who they are on their feet as opposed to the pretty faces they make in bed.

There are no garantees that we'll ever even get to a point where we're "dating", but I don't really need one. It will be what it will be.


It doesn't sound like those gigs are fun, but it's nice to see that you are braving it. And sounds like you are doing better as time goes by.

[Please note that the patronizing tone is accidental. Unfortunately, I know frighteningly well what you are talking about.]

A cliche of the worst sort, I know, but Time does smooth things over. It must, that's its friggin' job. It certainly doesn't do anything else with any satisfaction, as far as I can see.

I have a question that I am itching to ask anybody who cares to answer it.

But I shall not ask it, on second thought. Part of the reason is that it is a pointless philosophical question. And I have a sneaky suspicion that having the answer will do none any good.

Having created that aura of suspense and having proved beyond doubt that I am unbearably coy, I shall now remove myself from present company :-)
Okay, Sougata..

Spill it.
I watched my grandfather for months before he passed away. I shall always remember the time we had. Even though he was a diabetic, I gave him icecream and candy bars and such. He had cancer so it isn't quite the same but at that age give them what they want, they deserve it. I sure miss him.

Sounds to me like your just not "FEELING" life right now..
is that right?

Yeah, Sougata whats up?
Well, K-

I wouldn't nessesarily disagree with that statement. I don't mind not "feeling" life so much, though. I could use a little more thinking, and less feeling as it is.
Well whaddayaknow, there is actually some interest in Le Question. Gee ... thanks guys, I'm trying to swallow the lump in my throat :-)

I will organize Ze Question a bit tonight and post it as a comment.

[Modesty begins ...]
It is not exactly an earth-shattering question that'll change life as we know it. (But you already knew that.) But even ho-hum questions sometimes generate interesting answers. That is my hope in this case.
[Hubris resumes.]

Can't wait to hear it Sougata, sounds interesting. You have that suspense thing down don't you?lol

Rob, I understand completely. As I went through the very same a few years ago. I think I forgot to start feeling again. (unless it comes to my sons.)
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