All About Me

I am an mostly sedentary activist who thinks that corporate greed, right-wing politics, and the christian right (is there really a difference?) is turning our world to shit. In my professional life I have actually been known to demonstrate a passing familiarity with competence for hours on end.

I was a rock star once for about fifteen minutes and have nothing to show for it but a few CDs, some videos that are starting to deteriorate, a gold record for a band that I played with ten years before they made it big, loss of hearing in my right ear, and a slight tendency to drink beer.

I can be selfish.

I get too worked up about things I care about, but have a sometimes alarming disconnection with the world around me.

I never, ever, ever get enough sleep.

The right song at the right time can completely change me.? Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) this effect only seems to last a few hours at the most.

Julie is a Superstar

I am partnered to the most amazing woman ever. She has completed collecting all data for her PhD dissertation, been accepted to her 1 year internship next year, taught three classes (or more) a week for a couple of years now, designed one of them and developed the syllabus herself (no textbook exists, so she’ll just write it herself and, oh might as well submit it to McGraw-Hill) learned to quilt (by dreaming about it), learned HTML to help with our website, birthed two not-tiny kids, learned to make candy (not the easy shit either), helped me immeasurably to cope with depression, and managed to stay in love with me even when I make it hard.

Life is mad. Life is hard. Life is a struggle. Life can be incredibly sad.

But without J…life would be pointless.

What a superstar, truly.

Continued (aliens)

I never heard back from Mike. I’m starting to think that maybe he was on to something. I mean, he seemed to be pretty serious (about the aliens) and then never got back to me.

He just moved to San Francisco a couple of weeks ago from here in Cincinnati and I’m not too sure how screwed on his thinking cap is right now. I just hope he was reading as I was sending my messages to him even though he wasn’t typing back. Maybe he didn’t want to slow me down. Sometimes I get going pretty fast. I was using my computer and those go pretty fast. Even to San Francisco. I like to call it ‘Frisco, but that really makes people who live there mad so I only do it real quiet. And never on the bus. I think they have a thing there called BART. I wouldn’t say it on BART either. Just ’cause it goes real fast doesn’t mean they won’t get mad.

I wonder if he had time to try the garbage disposal, or if he even had batteries in his boombox.

I liked Mike.

But that’s what happens when a kid from Ohio goes to California: More often than not he gets eaten. I know. I’ve been there. I always take my boombox and plenty of spare batteries just in case. You never…ever…know.


What if you heard a strange noise?

Mike: I just had a strange thought. What if you heard a strange noise from outside your window. You moved closer to see what it was as it got louder and louder. You couldn’t put your finger on what it quite was. Then you realized ugly alien beings were invading.

Mike: That would be freaky as shit.

Tim: What would you do?

Tim: They would probably want to mate with you. or experiment or something. Most likely it’s eating you that they’re interested in. Or something worse.

Tim: Maybe they would be nice. But they might not be. Can they run fast? How about climb walls or fly? Breathing our air may be tricky for them so be sure not to get near water if that’s what they breathe in. uunless water kills them or something like in that one movie, in which case get in water. But then there’s breathing problems for you. You will have to come up sometime.

Tim: When you do they will try to take off your head. When they come down to do this (if they are flying) then you can splash them to kill them.

Tim: But if they are not harmed by water this won’t do any good so you will have to try something else. Maybe they are afraid of certain sounds. Try a crying baby first. Lots of people get freaked by this sound. But it might just make them hungry if they eat people, cause if they do then they would probably like babies best and this would be a bad way to try and frighten them.

Tim: Another good sound to try is a garbage disposal. They are hard to carry around and need electricity so you will need a backpack to carry it in and also a battery pack. Or maybe a recording of the sound that you can play on your boombox (you’ll need batteries for this too) would be better.

*** Auto-response from Mike: I am currently away from the computer.

Tim: Maybe it’s a sound that would not be very obvious to you or me. Maybe the sound of a doorbell. Or cruching leaves. If you want, you could put a bunch of these on a tape for the boombox you are carrying in your backpack and try a bunch out to see what works best. On the other hand, if I were an alien I think that sounds would not be too scary so you might want to try something else. And plus, what if they don’t have any ears?

Tim: Did you think of that already?

Tim: You should forward these instructions to lots of other people and let them know in what order you plan on attempting them. Then when the first few don’t work and you get killed by the aliens, others will not waste time trying the same things (you know, water or sounds) that you did and just die needlessly.

Tim: They may not have any way of knowing how far in the process you got exactly but at least they won’t start at the very first one and waste too much time before getting to one that might work.

Tim: So what do we have so far?

Tim: 1. Air

Tim: 2. Water

Tim: 3. Sounds

Tim:    a. Baby crying

Tim:    b. Garbage disposal

Tim:    c. Doorbell

Tim:    d. Drunching leaves

Tim: Feel free to add some more and let me know. I’m going to send these on to some friends of mine who know about aliens to see what they think too. Good luck Mike.

Tim: Mike?

*** Auto-response from Mike: I am currently away from the computer.

Tim: OK. Write back when you get a chance.

*** Auto-response from Mike: I am currently away from the computer.

Totally Wired

I’m all wired. Not in the normal geeky way, mind you. Not in the excited way, and not in the too much coffee way either. I’m all wired in a totally new and supremely annoying way: via a Holter Monitor.

You see, my heart has started doing this really irritating thing where every minute or so it seems to…ha ha, get this: stop beating for a second and then beat once really hard and then just keep going like nothing happened. Y’know? I mean, what the fuck? Really!

Now normally I wouldn’t really mind, but I’d been thinking that I’d kind of like to start doing drugs on a semi-regular basis again and this may throw a real crimp in my plans. Well this, and the kids. OK, so I really had no real plans to find me some really quality mescaline and go lay in the back yard all night. I hadn’t even thought for a second about how much more I like Scary Monsters by David Bowie when I’m all twitchy on acid. And believe you me, the thought of doing a little X and climbing a tree hasn’t crossed my mind for years. Honest!

So now I’m sitting here at work, all wired up, boxy thingy hanging from a necklace holster, electrodes firmly stuck to five or six spots on my chest (fuck me if that ain’t gonna hurt to take off), and every single iota of my attention focused on every single beat of my heart.

I mean, I’m not really worried. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve taken really good care of my body over the years. Oh wait, that wasn’t me. That was someone else. Oh well. Here’s hoping for the best.

Prescribed, meet proscribed (the scribe)

Control Loop (Feed-back Diferential)The adventure of a lifetime…my first experience with legitimately prescribed stimulants.

I’m still not sure if this methylphenidate stuff is doing the trick but I’m riding it out. I started at 5mg in the morning and 5mg around lunch and graduated after four days to 10mg each. In a week or so Ill up to 15mg and well see whats what. I’m still trying to detect what, if anything, these little green pills are doing.

I think that I occasionally feel “stimulated” but havent noticed anything out of hand. I think that Ive been more able to focus – or at least to not procrastinate quite as much – but its hard to say. My experiences with drugs (back in high school mostly) were along the lines of: “take some and wait a half hour. If you have even the slightest feeling that reality has not been completely obliterated, take more. Wait another half hour and repeat if necessary. Oh heck, why wait a half hour, just take it all…youre young.”

So that’s where it gets strange for me.

I’m taking a controlled substance EXACTLY as it was prescribed by my doctor. I went in and was totally honest about my symptoms, I took a battery of tests (WAIS and some other ADD and memory specific tests), and this is what has been determined: I’ve got Attention Deficit Disorder.

What I’ve learned about this condition would tend to explain a lot of the trouble I had in school before I wised up enough to drop out. But then so would being completely bored and more interested in life as a rock star than re-writing an English essay.

Its hard to say, I’m not totally convinced that I have ADD, but somethin has to explain the cotton-eating weevils (see previous entry). Furthermore, I’m not totally convinced that, if I do have ADD, this medicine will do anything for me. I’m willing to give it a shot though. Ill let you know how it works out for me.

A decent docent doesn’t

The jumble is what I’m used to.

It’s like cotton. Packed in tight.

Sometimes it gets itchy, but most of the time it’s not so bad.

It’s like a big box of old toys, mementos, shirts, thoughts. It’s like the box is packed tight with cotton.

It’s safe (we can assume) since being so tightly packed, the contents of the box won’t have been damaged all those times that the box was dropped. But what’s the use of even having the stuff in the box if it’s so tightly packed that you can’t find that one thing (your keys) that you just put in there? The problem is that when you put something (that phone number) in the box, it doesnt’ stay at the top. It could be anywhere. There’s no organization. The more you (I) dig, the harder it is to find anything. It’s the fucking cotton. It’s just in the way of everything. But at least it’s soft.

So now I hear that maybe there’s a way to get the cotton out. A way to make the searches for things (keys) go easier. A way for the things placed in the top of the box to stay there. For them to be as easy to find as they seem to be for other people to find in their boxes.

It sounds great, right? I mean, who wouldn’t want their box to be more useful? To be more organized?

But what if all that stuff packed tight at the bottom of the box hasn’t been kept safe and sound by the cotton?

What if there are weevils way down there in the box and they’ve been eating?

What if some of those things (toys, shirts) are gone forever? What if they never really got put into the fucking box in the first place? What if there’s been so much cotton in the box for all these years that things (keys) that I put in the box didn’t really ever find a place? Maybe it will be like Geraldo and the empty tomb.

If that’s the case. Well, is cotton really so bad?

But the weevils. I worry about the weevils.

Not a Neighborhood Guy

So apparently weather like this means one thing for men in my neck of the woods: wash your car. I never got the memo. Luckily I picked up on what was going on through my amazing powers of observation and did ours too. Whew! Almost found me out. It’s bad enough that I don’t know a damn thing about cars and don’t really care. To be the only guy on the block not out scrubbing it to a painful shine in a bright sunny day…well I’m really not sure what they’d do to me.

Who would have seen it coming?

In what I can only imagine to be a hilarious and nearly tragic chain of events culminating in a grand crash and a kind of splash, I rushed to the dining room to witness the following scene:

  • Demon #1 (4 1/2) with one foot in a toy dump truck and the other halfway to a dining room chair.
  • Demon #2 (19 mos) standing with one of his sister’s dress-up dresses on, completely drenched, a little too freaked out and surprised to even be screaming yet. Just sort of whimpering.
  • Four Foot high stereo speaker (until recently the home of a fish tank) rocking back and forth.
  • Goldfish flopping around on a floor completely covered with water and little blue gravel.

I think everyone is ok now. The fish is in new water. The kids ate better lunches than they have in forever (probably ’cause they’re still in shock). The floor is completely mopped and most likely cleaner than it’s been in months. I’m ready for a nap or a bath. I hope J comes home soon.

Uncle Me

I’m an uncle for the first time. She’s beautiful. I want to go see my little sister and her new baby so badly. Soon. Maybe three weeks or so. Beautiful.. Both. Just beautiful.

I’m off from office work this week. I start the new job on Monday and last Friday was my last day at the TV station. I’ve been taxiing kids around this week while J tries desperately to finish collecting data for her dissertation. We’ve been meeting at 5 for dinner the last few nights just because if we don’t we won’t see each other all day. We leave the house at 8am and see each other for an hour for dinner and then she teaches until 9 or so. It’s great that she is getting so much work done. Her shit is always the first to get put to the side because it doesn’t bring in the immediate reward of a paycheck and that sucks. I mean shit…her work actually means something. She is the one that is doing good work for the world…trying to make a difference in some way. I’m just a web drone, like a million other web drones. I like the work fine, it’s just not doing anything to make the world a better place. I wish I could get a gig as webmaster for some really great activist web site.

Here’s a cool one: