Summer of '11

The dip I experienced yesterday felt like I had shed blood along with my tears. Saying goodbye is one of the hardest things for me. Admitting to myself that the end of a relationship has taken place was never a forte of mine. And not being able to say goodbye may have cost me the most synchronicity I have ever felt with someone in all of my life. But life is doesn’t always mean you end up with the one you’re truly in love with, that is a story book that will remain a fantasy for the rest of my life I fear.   Some friends have told me I just have to let go. How do you let go when my life is forever changed? It’s not easy even when the other has made the decision for you and it’s out of your hands. 

Jealously has rarely been part of my nature and even now unless I have to read the newspapers I will wish the ship that has sailed a bon voyage and I will be sated knowing that I will always have the Summer of ’11. Like the Summer of ’42 except that I lived inside my own movie. I will play it on the VCR of my memory until my dying day.  

The Summer of '12 promises a new direction and one that I had put on hold as it seems my place will 

be right here in NY for at least the foreseeable future. Life moves on and I guess I have to now.  

Free Agency

When I first heard this term it harkened back to the man that gave birth to it for Baseball. His name was Curt Flood. He made history (not at the time) when he refused to report to the team he was traded to the Philadelphia Phillies. The Phils a moribund team at that time in Baseball history was not a prospect Flood was akin to after a successful career with the St Louis Cardinals. A team by the way that has the second most World Series titles (10) to the New York Yankees (27).  

I met Mr. Flood in the Balearic Islands off Spain back in 1971.  He had purchased a bar called the Rustic Inn (I still have the T shirt.) and when he introduced himself I was shocked that he had left a lucrative career in Baseball but this highly principled man gives me food for thought as I scribe about him right here, right now. It’s not enough that you love what you do. You have to love the way you do it.  

Free Agents have to choose wisely and not just sign when the first interested party wants  you. 

Blood & Glass

There is nothing more shocking to be in the presence of shattered glass still held fast by wooden struts with gaping holes as if baseballs were thrown through them in a fit of anger. As I looked at the pocket door hanging askew on its sliding hooks I realized that it was me that was off the hinges.  

As I struggled to sweep up the tiny shards, part of me was on the floor too and the feeling of being violated didn’t compare to the numbness that started to radiate all over my body. I know that there are always 3 sides to every story and I couldn’t fathom how any words out of the mouths of others could create this kind of conflagration.  But hell hath no fury…

When I saw the blood stains randomly smeared on doors and clothing it was for my benefit as if to give life to the death that just transpired. Blood and glass are powerful visuals that make statements words could never do.  

Three days later I feel no anger and although it might be easy to seek revenge, as an alcoholic anger is better left to those who can handle it.  It is not for me to judge because in the mind of the other it was justified and no amount of reason will suffice when rage takes over.  

Blood & Glass its life and death. 

My Inventory

I have been a different man these last few weeks. It’s been brought up to me that I am 61 years old more times than I care to mention as if this is something I can change or be upset about.  So the change is that I will not tolerate verbal abuse from anyone. I am also very tired of my inventory being taken by those that think they know what’s best for me. 

Up the Creek

I have been more frustrated lately than ever before. Not because I don’t feel better about life in general because I do feel better. It’s just that I cannot seem to remove some of the debris in my life that I have created in my past life. Most of my problems stem from being lost in the moment and not following through with the next logical thought. I get too caught up with one success and feel I can go off the rails instead of heading for the next station. My life is about allegory and its time I write more about where I want to be and go than letting the eddies and currents dictate where I find myself with no paddle.  

The Age of Aquarius?

Taken by surprise the emotion of happiness although fleeting has come again to visit me. Amidst the turmoil of the life that is Jack some things are starting to align with Jupiter and Mars. There is considerable debate on when the Age of Aquarius will begin or whether it is already here but for this Jack it is indeed the dawn of a new age.  Some say the present world governments have to fall before it begins but for me such wild notions are for the universe to determine not I. I do know that my Angels are still working overtime each and every moment for me and now maybe I can give them a respite.  

Isolation

What makes me think that by isolating that I can rediscover who I am? I do know that I need to awaken to the fact that there is a distinct difference between being alone and isolating. Alone time means that I am engaged in either disengaging like watching a favorite video, writing or just being in the somnolent state. Some people tell me that isolation is a deliberate form of hiding and avoiding either what needs to be faced or what needs to be done or a deliberate act of dropping off the grid.  (I learned this expression recently dropping off the grid.) And I do that probably more than most people. But is isolation all that unhealthy?

Webster tells me that isolation is separation. Nowhere does it say that it is unhealthy.  I like it mainly because I have to engage with people so regularly and for me isolation is a chance to catch up on my unconscious life.  

I don't mind being alone I just don't want to end up being alone.