(no subject)
I've really got to stop bitching. I'm sorry ... old habits die hard. A lifetime of learning from the best.
Reminds me of this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kXBmvHJrJs
That song, in fact, sums up quite a bit of my feelings about my experience with fatherhood (from both sides).
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Tragic news today ... my pizza joint of nearly ten years is closing down. Seems like the 85 year old first generation italian, Carmine (hunched over from osteoporosis and fifty years of hard labor, and mumbly mouthed from two strokes) finally decided that he'd put in enough days of getting up at 8am every day to slave over a mound of dough and a 600 degree oven (I've never seen such a sinewy geriatric specemin). That, or his landlord jacked up the rent, and the storefront will be renovated into an artisinal pickling shop (only $15.00 a jar), replete with skinny jeans, bird tattoos, and handlebar fucking moustaches.
There have been many times that I half-joked "if Carmine's ever closes up, I'll know it's time for me to leave NYC", much like I've always said that if I'm unmarried when my dog dies, I'll not be far behind him.
I could probably be up in Canada right now, up in that fattening tundra, running a pizza shop and raising my kids ... but I've hinged it all on a relationship with the mother, a relationship that's gotten as much traction as goose shit on zambonied ice (working on my canadian metaphors).
Truth is, I miss my kids, and I sometimes catch myself fantasizing about being with her and them, in some kind of functional, happy family.
Then I catch myself ... partners don't ignore each other for three months at a time. Partners call or at least text eachother on their birthdays. Partners give a shit, and if they're autistic or socially underdeveloped, well, they at least own it.
I need a hobby that I can really, really dedicate the rest of my life to, because (and I say this without even a modicum of self-pity), I suspect it's going to be a lonely one.
Next entry - the misconception of "karma".
Reminds me of this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8kXBmvHJrJs
That song, in fact, sums up quite a bit of my feelings about my experience with fatherhood (from both sides).
---
Tragic news today ... my pizza joint of nearly ten years is closing down. Seems like the 85 year old first generation italian, Carmine (hunched over from osteoporosis and fifty years of hard labor, and mumbly mouthed from two strokes) finally decided that he'd put in enough days of getting up at 8am every day to slave over a mound of dough and a 600 degree oven (I've never seen such a sinewy geriatric specemin). That, or his landlord jacked up the rent, and the storefront will be renovated into an artisinal pickling shop (only $15.00 a jar), replete with skinny jeans, bird tattoos, and handlebar fucking moustaches.
There have been many times that I half-joked "if Carmine's ever closes up, I'll know it's time for me to leave NYC", much like I've always said that if I'm unmarried when my dog dies, I'll not be far behind him.
I could probably be up in Canada right now, up in that fattening tundra, running a pizza shop and raising my kids ... but I've hinged it all on a relationship with the mother, a relationship that's gotten as much traction as goose shit on zambonied ice (working on my canadian metaphors).
Truth is, I miss my kids, and I sometimes catch myself fantasizing about being with her and them, in some kind of functional, happy family.
Then I catch myself ... partners don't ignore each other for three months at a time. Partners call or at least text eachother on their birthdays. Partners give a shit, and if they're autistic or socially underdeveloped, well, they at least own it.
I need a hobby that I can really, really dedicate the rest of my life to, because (and I say this without even a modicum of self-pity), I suspect it's going to be a lonely one.
Next entry - the misconception of "karma".