Because of a hard drive problem six novels and the final drafts of the others are permanently lost. I did not know how much this would hurt. Anyway, your emotional support would be appreciated. Troy.
Whenever and however my wife happens to die, God grant that then she finally lie still.
My life didn’t flash before my eyes. There wasn’t time for that as the semi bore down on me.
Only the thought, God in heaven, teach me how to die.
I’m not writing this to anyone in particular. I just feel a need to share some thoughts since here and at Xanga I have left a considerable body of work.
Those of you who know me well know that after being married a quarter century my wife is divorcing me. Nothing happened. No concrete reason. Why it takes that long to decide you cant live with somebody idk and don’t want to get into it much.
The first thing most guys would think of is another man.
But I’d bet anything it’s not that.
You see, even though I can never trust her again because of what she did and how, people seem to have a…constancy about them. I would no more fuck around on her than I’d walk up to someone and fart in their face. And after living with her this long, I know she’s the same way about that. My best guess is that she’s having a midlife crisis that she is going to let destroy her marriage.
But this part is chilling. I’ve been rereading my Dana stories, all about love and marriage and commitment and infidelity and sexual confusion and life and death fights where in the end there is no doubt that as much as they hate each other, this couple could not possibly love each other more. Not after the beating they take from life and each other. In other words, I tend to be hard on my readers. Fortunately they forgive me and take me back. But reading my stories is brutal.
Remember how A Farewell to Arms ends? How awful? It might be Hemmingway’s best except that The Sun Also Rises flows so much better. And that story, too, is brutal.
I digress. I see that Erik can never leave Dana because it would kill him. If anything happened to Erik it would kill her but he’ll admit it and she wont. I see how totally I am Erik when there is any threat of loss to Dana. But he’s always prevailed. I haven’t. I tried to kill Dana off and had to bring her back in Tenement because Erik alone cannot survive. I’m going to lose mine and can no more live without her than he could live without Dana.
Thanks to my best internet friend Jen Riemann I got Tenement finished, a bitch of a book to write. It wound up with a semi-happy ending where Dana and Erik are lying on a bed together drunk and when she asks him why she makes him happy he says because he’s a slave to love-always.
I had written a different ending, a horrible one, after starting Tenement that fortunately I was able to discard. Dana never comes back to life and Erik committs a mass murder before Dana’s ghost comes to him and tells him they’ll have plenty of time together and Erik blows his brains out. It’s in the archives titled The End on an October Day if you care to read it. I had based it on my corruption of some of Leonard Cohen’s song, Coming Back to You:
They’re handing down my sentence now and I know what I must do
Another mile of silence while I’m coming back to you
AND ON THIS FINE OCTOBER DAY I’ll join the chosen few
Who left their pride on the other side
Of coming back to you.
No, I’m not going to commit a mass murder.
And I’m too chickenshit for suicide. But as I put myself in Erik’s place I know I’m only kidding myself to think I could go on or why I would want to. This is not a cry for help, for there is no help to be had. Still, I have to write something or I will go mad, and this is what I wrote today.
Tod gewinnt immer. Aber vielleicht manchmal…
You don’t care about politics, she says, looking at my Op-Ed. You write novels. You’re a fiction writer.
Writing novels comes from the heart, I say, desperately trying to keep my voice from cracking.
So? She says.
My heart is broken, I say.
And my voice cracks.
I’m just getting used to FB and I notice that longer posts tend to get ignored there. This morning I read something that moved me so emotionally that I felt I had to say something, and I just couldn’t keep it short enough for the attention span there. I don’t even remember who posted it, but all I did was make it a point to “like” it. It regards the intolerance of fat in America. And my response is long because it goes right to one of my experiences.
The repressive, intrusive government of my state has been after people for years who don’t live like they “should.” First it was the smokers. Now it’s the fat people. Years ago my wife and I got money off our insurance premiums if we signed a pledge not to smoke. Since neither of us smoke, that was no problem. Now they’re threatening to take it away if my wife doesn’t walk or run x distance as documented by an pedometer she’s supposed to wear. They are supposed to mail them out soon.
Most pedometers are cheap, and measure mileage mainly by vibration or jiggling. A lot of fellow runners I knew used them but I never bothered. I just ran courses I knew the distance of.
The problem is that my wife has a torn meniscus she got in a fall while doing her state job walking up a slippery step in the dark in a driving rain. If she tries walking the joint’ll swell and she’ll have to have the surgery immediately, which we cant afford because of my surgery for the same injury. I got mine from running tens of thousands of miles on roads and treadmills when I was younger because I was told I’d be healthier and happier when I got my age.
Bullshit! Half the cartilage is gone from one of my knees and I need expensive shots from an orthopedist to be able to walk without hobbling. If you are young and want aerobic exercise, be smart. Use a bike. A stepper’s better because you bear your entire weight without the pounding of running. We cant afford to get my wife’s knee fixed because we had to get my knee fixed. And that was stupid because I should have known what lying bastards politicians are and what it’s like in states without unions and who have group insurance plans with ten thousand dollar deductibles that suck..
Ask any old jock like me. They’ll have stories like this to tell.
But when a woman who is overweight and sedentary is supposed to turn in a pedometer showing arbitrary distance walked or she will be disciplined and cannot get her knee fixed because the state employee insurance sucks, the spirit of Himmler is alive in the state capitol and it wont be long until we hear strains of the Horst Vessel Lied in Indianapolis. For God’s sake, people. My grandparents died in the last world war fighting things like this. And we wouldn’t have had to fight it at all if we hadn’t given Hitler Europe country by country, hoping he’d behave.
What i did foolishly in the pursuit of athletic excellence is not what you do to get a little cardio to feel better and get healthier. I understand she’s had our orthopedic surgeon write an appeal that has been denied. She could lose her job, this woman that has given this state years of service, driving literally hundreds of thousands of miles and showing up in the predawn dark in some of the most dangerous parts of Fort Wayne, Muncie, Indianapolis.
Insurance fraud or not, I decided I could wear the pedometer and walk or run an easy mile on the treadmill. Did I mention I have a turf toe from running all those miles? I do and it acts up sometimes. The day after the “easy” run I couldn’t put weight on it. If you have a turf toe you know that when it acts up it feels like a shard of glass sticking into the toe joint. I couldn’t walk without Vicodin. So I wont try that again. I have to stick with a bike.
IDK what to do. I guess I could borrow a big dog from somebody, strap the thing to his collar, and let him run.
The point of all this isn’t our petty problems. And it goes beyond even fascist state governments. It has to do with the fact that some people just are always going to be fatter than others, and nobody has any idea why. Until they do and can offer cheap and safe medical treatments to all they should refrain from trying to make middle age housewives Olympic athletes and worse, to make everybody perfect little Aryan copies of each other. That’s the root of this problem. The problem of prejudice against heavy people is no different than the xenophobia that is behind all racial and ethnic prejudice; because somebody’s too black, too white, too fat, too thin, too Muslim, their name is Blumenthal, or any other such asshole reason. They are not like us so they must be dangerous.
When I could run my miles I had a perfect physique. Now I’m thirty pounds heavier. We’re all different. Get over it. Because if you don’t, if they don’t, then even a WASP that is overweight could be in trouble.
Pax et Dux. Peace and light.