Skip to main content

Back on the hamster wheel

Far be it from me to post something cryptic and then fail to follow up...

The Trip Into the Unknown (shall we abbreviate that as TITU? Hey, why not?) went relatively well. It was the most involved traveling I've done since 1999 or so, and that was before I started spending half my waking hours on the web. I credit the Internet with giving me many under-acknowledged resources for making the week go smoothly. Even a touch of adult ADHD can throw a lot of complications into such an undertaking, so my pet message forums and blogs went a long way toward helping me think things through, plan, and watch out for potential snags.

Worst moments were transitory logistical problems with the car rental, which my hero brother-in-law helped to alleviate, and absent-mindedly leaving my hardworking windbreaker behind -- in the rental car.

Beyond that, the "bad moments" were due to their own nature, and they involved taking hours to locate Wally at his various venues (jail and courthouses). The corrections system goes out of its way to make life difficult for family and friends of inmates. I don't know why this needs to be -- other than the unopposed profitability of such schemes. Crime does pay, but not in the way you might think.

But I did get to see my son -- for one hour out of a 5-day trip. Communications are a challenge. The collect calls from the jail are far beyond affordable for me, so right now we're limited to postcards from me to him, and possibly letters from him to me. He won't be in there forever, but realistically, he may "graduate" to a more secure facility before all this is over. He's saying all the right things, remorse-wise, but I also think he's still unaware of the internal factors that have led up to his current situation.

To be fair, most of the people I encountered on this trip were helpful, and then some. Things could certainly have been worse.

Like many of life's chapters, this one is about waiting for events to play out. Guess I'll go make some popcorn...


Popular posts from this blog

A Subway Journey Home

by The Urban Blabbermouth. Comments are welcome! ~ There is a ritual to theNew York City subway system. Once there, you lose your humanity.  You are transformed into a savage, brutal and selfish automaton.  Savage in that you push and shove other riders out of your way to get into the subway car.  Brutal in that you never excuse yourself for any atrocities that you commit to get in the subway car.  Selfish in that you never give up your seat to anyone, no matter how crippled or old or pregnant they are.  Automaton in that you never look at any one else as a human being.

Now there are certain strategies that you can employ to be a successful subway rider.  You can stand by the door and obstruct the way just to be selfish and ornery.  That strategy is designed to increase your standing with your fellow passengers by impressing them with how vicious you can be pushing back at people trying to push into the car.  Whenever I see this strategy employed, I immediately piggy back on it.  I move …

Gone Shopping

by The Urban Blabbermouth
Dracula escorted his newly created undead aide into the store.

"...and you need to sleep in the daytime," he explained.

"But what are we doing here in Sleepy's Mattress store?" asked his aide. "I thought we slept in coffins."

"We are modern now," replied Dracula. "We use a mattress like anyone else. I tell you, after two hundred years of sleeping on rock and dirt, this is a joy. So much more comfortable and you don't have to haul it around from place to place."

"Amazing," said the aide.

"For a newbie like you, maybe you want to go traditional. Sleepy's has a Posturedic that will fit inside a coffin."

"What do you use?" asked the aide.

"I have a sleep-number bed. I love it. Mrs. Dracula can toss and turn and I don't feel it on my side."

"Now that you mention the ladies, I think I will skip the coffin. A moo…

I Swear!

by Vol-E

I've lived in the south for over 30 years. Having grown up as a New Yorker, there were some changes to get used to once I crossed the Mason-Dixon line.

Language was a big one. My parents were well-behaved in public, but behind the closed doors of our home, they taught me all kinds of interesting vocabulary words, as they took their everyday frustrations out on one another. "Jerk" and "bastard" were two of the earliest ones, but by the time I was about eight, I knew pretty much every one of George Carlin's pet no-nos.

It was only in college that I met people who were outspokenly offended by swear words. The ones that raised eyebrows initially were related to religion. I began to think twice about using "hell" and "damn," and was politely informed one day that "God's last name is not 'dammit.'" So I gradually began censoring myself a bit, which was probably a good thing, once I joined the work force. Macy…