This is my second blog.

My first blog chronicled my experiences over three years caring for my dad as he lived through and finally died from Alzheimer's. That is the book that is for sale.

This second blog kind of chronicles of life, what it is like to start your life over in your late 50's. After caretaking, you are damaged, file bankruptcy, and the world doesn't care what you did. After 8 months of unemployment, you wake each day knowing the world doesn't want you. Finally you do find a job, 5 weeks before homelessness, but doing what you did 30 years ago and getting paid what you did 30 years ago. So this is starting over.

The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Saturday, January 31, 2015


Been reading the Odd Thomas books again.  I really liked the first three or four then read one that got kind of out of hand, in my opinion, and stopped reading them for a year or more.

I'm not really a big Dean Koontz fan, though I think I've mentioned in a previous blog how much I liked Servants of Twilights, but I find the Odd Thomas character comforting.  I guess it's got a lot to do with the first person writing style, I always like reading 1st person books, but also the worldview and philosophy of the books - not just the fact the character sees dead people- but his outlook on life.

The way the character doesn't plan, just moves ahead confident that he will be where he is suppose to be, having a simple life that frees him for what he does.  I realized, it is what I am attempting to do.  I wonder if the whole thing about moving to Colorado in the first place was it just to please my dad or did God want me here for a reason?  And I have, all in all, a simple job.  Work from home, take calls, solve problems, and when my shift is over I leave it behind.  Simplicity.  Was promoted quickly and now some of the people I started with, who were also promoted same time I was, are looking at other positions, but I'm happy right now.  Not as smart as some of them, need to master the position more, but confident that an opportunity will come along for me.

The title today is a quote from Churchill.  Interesting man, Winston was.  Art of Manliness is running a series on Churchill lately and it's an interesting read.  One of the things Churchill was big on was hobbies.

I have no hobbies.  Well, unless vicariously living through TV shows is a hobby.  Strange how I live vicariously thru television shows and don't actually own a television.  Kind of Zen when you think about it.  But each day is the same of late: up, walk dog and pick up crap, read the news and drink a glass of Nestles Quick, dress, brush teeth, go to work.  At my 4 hour break, workout, shower, eat, read, walk dog and back to work.  After work around 10, walk dog, make dinner, watch some BBC mystery show and bed.

Monday I start a year long Hebrew course, though I'm not sure that is exactly a hobby.  And hopefully after I get thru the bankruptcy and my new schedule gives me Mondays off and I found a place in town with art classes; oil painting for two hours.

I painted in college, kind of sucked at it but did some cool abstract things that friends actually liked and I gave them away.  Painted one for a girl I loved, was space and right in the middle of the universe was an open door and thru the doorway you could see a pretty landscape with two lovers standing on the peak looking at the sun.  She dumped me but I think she kept the painting.  Kind of reminds me of the line from the song "It's funny how I loved the book but I never loved that girl" - I wonder if she still has it?  But  please don't ask me to paint a horse, a person, or a bowl of fruit.  But a hobby of oil painting might be a great hobby.  I enjoyed painting, I would work on one for hours and learned to set alarms because time stopped when I painted.

Building a life.  Churchill also was a prolific writer.  I love writing, but to be honest I haven't really been happy with my blog for months; it's lacking the depth I use to write with, I read what I wrote a few days later and think how much better it could have been.  At least it seems to me shallow.  When I wrote about my dad, I wrote about a lot of other topics but there was a purpose to it all and a depth I can't seem to find anymore.  Sometimes I sound like a bored lonely middle aged guy, oh, wait, I am a bored middle age guy!

And therein lies the issue, the original blog was not about me, it was about my dad and what went thru my mind taking care of him.  Now, I write about me and frankly, I'm not that interesting.  I can't write flowing stories about ski trips, hunting trips, camping, exotic vacations, because I can't afford to do any of them.  I try to make the boring, interesting, and I'm just not that good a writer.

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
Oh but then you know, it was time for them to go
By the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I did not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Oh, but then you know it was time for them to go
Oh, but I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I did not count the time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

I know I'm not alone while my love is near me
I know that it's so until it's time to go
Oh the storms in winter and the birds in spring again
I did not count the time
Oh who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Who, who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?

Eva Cassidy