Remember Me?

I've returned.

It would seem that I turn to writing when I don't know what to do with myself.  I put my words on paper and try to make sense of it all. And there's a lot going on that doesn't make sense these days. So, I decided to click onto my old friend Blogger and I signed into The Daily Dandy. It was that easy.

It feels good to be back. Me and the keyboard "having a conversation about nothing". But these days nothing seems... trivial. Life is changed drastically since 2016, the last time I logged into this place; my home for my words and my thoughts. But I guess that's the thing about going home, you somehow are comforted by the stability of what you know and it feeds your soul.

Comfort is something we all desperately need because right now. Life as we know it, knew it, and will live it is drastically different. That's the straight sh*t. No kidding.

Covid-19 has taken our world hostage, quite literally and we are left to wait, worry and wonder when and if we will make it out of this pandemic. We are all looking for answers and assurances that this too shall pass. But there are none.

As of today, I have been self quarantined at home for 7 days. Unprecedented. TV News media is my constant companion. My store is closed. No work, no business, no American dream or engine that drives our economy because "social distancing' must be our new normal. No restaurants, malls, boutiques, stores or coffee shops open. It's almost eerie.

I know I'm not alone. Mankind has been a great partner in all this, and we must stick together. Today, by the grace of God, I am healthy and my family is healthy. That is a blessing. So I'm going to focus on the blessings. The small things, the memories we have been making at the dinner table, and I'm going to do my part to slow the spread of this virus.

I'll come back here a lot, during this.
I'll talk about nothing and something and that something we are all talking about.
And together, we will connect without actually connecting.

It's good to be home again where I belong. In my own little universe

Mini Me

I got the chance to spend some quality time with Frick this weekend before she headed back to the Big Apple and you know what I discovered?

She is a total Mini Me.

I guess I always knew this to be true, but the older she gets the more I begin to see the similarities in our personalities. She is totally me.

She's been going through some stuff recently, and that stuff is stuff we all go through. Growing pains, heartache and the kind of stuff that challenges the foundation of who we are. And she's handled it much like I do-or would have. She even made some statements that I have made when faced with a similar situation. I was kind of surprised.

She's a mini me.

We talked...a lot. And we discussed things and I gave her advice as best I could. I think she gets it, but because we are so similar I feel her pain, quite literally.

We both work hard and are focused on the end result.
We both play hard and enjoy play as a satisfying reward.
We both love hard-sometimes to our detriment.
And we both feel really hard, which in turn makes us vulnerable and obvious. We wear our hearts on our sleeves.

She too, has integrity and a great capacity to "over think" things, which gives me the unique opportunity to provide her with some perspective. Something I sometimes seek in my own mother. I can hardly believe this amazing young woman came from me and is like me in so many ways. I'm left to question whether this is a good thing or a bad thing?  Of course, I hope she has a different outcome with her life. One that is better than the life I have lived and I wish for her not to duplicate the mistakes I have made. Let's hope history does not repeat itself here.

Like they saying goes, "Mirror, mirror on the the wall. I am my mother after all...."

From Paris With Love

There were so many incredible things that happened over the weekend, but none more devastating than the attack on our innocence. Terror took front stage on Friday and our innocence was the victim. But rest assured good prevails, as it always does because evil has no place amongst our existence. Yet we are changed as a world, and we now know that this cowardice act of terror will NOT, can NOT, become commonplace. The lives of the innocent that were lost will never be forgotten and this war we are fighting will somehow bring justice to a broken hearted world.

The words of the victims/survivors tell a story of courage, love and triumph for life; not at all what the hate that entered into the city of Paris on Friday night intended.
I came across this today when I was going to post something different entirely-and I am humbled by this young girl's resolve and by her courage.

This is the Facebook post of  Isobel Bowdery, a young college student who attended the rock and roll show at the Bataclan Theatre in Paris on Friday night:

"you never think it will happen to you. It was just a friday night at a rock show. the atmosphere was so happy and everyone was dancing and smiling. and then when the men came through the front entrance and began the shooting, we naiively believed it was all part of the show. It wasn’t just a terrorist attack, it was a massacre. Dozens of people were shot right infront of me. Pools of blood filled the floor. Cries of grown men who held their girlfriends dead bodies pierced the small music venue. Futures demolished, families heartbroken. in an instant. Shocked and alone, I pretended to be dead for over an hour, lying among people who could see their loved ones motionless.. Holding my breath, trying to not move, not cry – not giving those men the fear they longed to see. I was incredibly lucky to survive. But so many didn’t. The people who had been there for the exact same reasons as I – to have a fun friday night were innocent. This world is cruel. And acts like this are suppose to highlight the depravity of humans and the images of those men circuling us like vultures will haunt me for the rest of my life. The way they meticoulsy aimed at shot people around the standing area i was in the centre of without any consideration for human life. It didn’t feel real. i expected any moment for someone to say it was just a nightmare. But being a survivor of this horror lets me able to shed light on the heroes. To the man who reassured me and put his life on line to try and cover my brain whilst i whimpered, to the couple whose last words of love kept me believing the good in the world, to the police who succeded in rescuing hundreds of people, to the complete strangers who picked me up from the road and consoled me during the 45 minutes I truly believed the boy i loved was dead, to the injured man who i had mistaken for him and then on my recognition that he was not Amaury, held me and told me everything was going to be fine despite being all alone and scared himself, to the woman who opened her doors to the survivors, to the friend who offered me shelter and went out to buy new clothes so i wouldnt have to wear this blood stained top, to all of you who have sent caring messages of support – you make me believe this world has the potential to be better. to never let this happen again. but most of this is to the 80 people who were murdered inside that venue, who weren’t as lucky, who didnt get to wake up today and to all the pain that their friends and families are going through. I am so sorry. There’s nothing that will fix the pain. I feel priviledged to be there for their last breaths. And truly beliving that I would join them, I promise that their last thoughts were not on the animals who caused all this. It was thinking of the people they loved. As i lay down in the blood of strangers and waiting for my bullet to end my mere 22 years, I envisioned every face that I have ever loved and whispered I love you. over and over again. reflecting on the highlights of my life. Wishing that those i love knew just how much, wishing that they knew that no matter what happened to me, to keep belieivng in the good in people. to not let those men win. Last night, the lives of many were forever changed and it is up to us to be better people. to live lives that the innocent victims of this tragedy dreamt about but sadly will now never be able to fulfil. RIP angels. You will never be forgotten."

The Pack Mentality

Those five men look like movie stars-don't they?
That's because they are. And it happened in the most incredible way. But that's only part of the story.

These brothers-6 in total (and 1 sister)-grew up in in a 16th floor Manhattan public housing apartment which served for 14 years as a prison for the family. Confined to the cramped apartment under their bizarre father's rule, the family of nine spent most of their lives with no contact with the outside world. The father forbade them to ever leave the apartment and held the only key to the front door. The children were home schooled by their mother, and taught never to communicate with strangers. Their only contact with real world were on necessary, supervised appointments or controlled outings to New York tourist destinations. The children were told to never cut their hair and that the outside world had "bad people in it".

The one privilege the boys father did allow was movies. And they indulged in many movies as their personal form of escape from the hell that they knew as their life. Middle brother Mukunda, was the prop master and he would make items from their favorite movies from things he had lying about the house. The boys would reenact scenes from the movies as a way to feel normal and feel free. Then in January 2010, Mukunda, then 15, decided he needed to escape and see life outside his prison walls.

Little did Mukunda know that that escape-he wore a mask he had made to resemble Mike Meyers from the Halloween movies so that he would not be recognized outside by his father-would change all of their lives for ever. Once outside, Mukunda didn't know his address so he kept the apartment building in his site as he visited a bank and a supermarket. People were afraid so he was soon stopped by police. When questioned Makunda says,

“They started asking, ‘Do you live here? Where are you from?’ And I was always taught to never interact with any people, so I didn’t say anything, you know. I didn’t give them any information on me,” Mukunda recalled.

He was placed on a psychiatric hold and sent to Bellevue Hospital for a week stay, which he loved. It was his first interaction with other people outside his family. When he returned home, his father was no longer in control. The boys then started going out together and on a chance meeting they met film maker Crystal Moselle, who they bonded with over their love of movies. Moselle ended up filming the boys for 5 years and the result is her documentary file "The Wolfpack", in theaters now. The film has bee critically acclaimed and won a Grand Jury prize at  this year's Sundance Film Festival.

Purely coincidence that one of the first people the boys meet is a film maker? I think not. These boys have a whole lot of catching up to do and they are doing it in grand style. Hollywood has come knocking and they ironically were, "ready for their closeup". But at an incredible price.

Change Is In The Air

Ever get a feeling that change is coming? This feeling feels like the opportunity for a big change and suddenly you are on the verge of something different? Different and good or different and bad?That's the Yin and Yang of life. For me- it's here and now and I feel it rising like the tide. I need to be smart. I need to be really smart and research the hell out of the options. Something tells me this may just be what I need-like that something I have been praying for, asking for during sleepless nights.

Change is good and it comes in all shapes and sizes.

Caitlyn Jenner-"I'm free" are the words she used to launch her new life change. It's a big one too-a "watershed moment", both historic and important for people like her-life altering because life, as she knew it, will never be the same.

David Letterman-His "Late Show" life has come to an end. Change for him was self imposed because "not everything good lasts forever". His change is here and now.

Birth/Death-The beginning of a new life is by far the greatest gift of all-the Yin. Death, by contrast can be earth shattering-the Yang.

Divorce/Marriage-The breaking up of a marriage can be a devastating change, but can ultimately bring both a good or bad change to those who experience it. So can the beginning of a marriage. The creation of a shared life and family is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself-and your mate. As someone who has experienced divorce, I never thought, while I was going through it, that it was good. I often cursed the heartache and pain I went through and wondered what I had done to deserve it. But I know now that it was a blessing.

Change can be challenging and difficult but it can also be liberating. Change takes attention and perseverance and ultimately, whatever the change that takes place, you pray for the knowledge that it was somehow meant to be.

Whatever the change in the air for me at this time-I am ready. I have been waiting for this opportunity my whole life.

Can't Keep A Good Man Down

Ever since my beloved Amos went to heaven last November, I have noticed a change in Buddy. I expected him to be affected, but the diffence in Buddy was one that I had not anticipated. I worried that Buddy would be depressed like he had when his beloved sister Jingles died. I worried that he would be lonely being the only dog in the household and even entertained bringing a puppy into the family. Interestingly enough, none of those worries were even close to what has happened with Buddy. 

Buddy's life was one of a pack. He spent his early days with his sister Jingle then two years later, Amos, aka. Boss Man was added to the pack. Their days comprised of loving each other and bonding, but It was clear early on that Amos was the Captian and that he ran a tight ship. Buddy had Jingles, who he loved her like a sister, and it was almost as if the two of them aligned to commiserate about Boss Man and his regime. Then Jingles was called to heaven way too early and Buddy was devastated. He layed around lethargicly and uncharacteristicly left food in his supper dish. Boss Man showed no evidence of emotion but stayed close to Buddy, and then there were 2...

It was life as usual for the boys and they had what seemed like a happy existence. There was definitely  a balance between them. When the altercations became physical, which they did occasionally, Buddy was always the victor due to his obvious size advantage. Still Boss Man never let him forget he was boss. There were rare occasions that they slept in the same doggie bed, which almost always prompted a photo to document as proof. They loved each other, it was obvious, just in their own way. Amos was advanced in age-we never knew exactly because My Guy rescued him-we estimated his age to be around 17 years old. We knew his day would eventually come. Come it did, and we worried how Buddy would react. 

The first few days without Amos, he seemed fine, still we waited. Nothing. There was no evidence of depression and dare I say it, Buddy had a new bounce in his step! Yes, Buddy is now The Man and he is loving it! Evidenced during treat giving, Buddy no longer has to quickly scarf it down so that Amos won't come over, snap, growl and confiscate it for his own. Nights are easier because Buddy can now sit on the end of the sofa comfortably without vicious growling and sharp teeth showing. Meal time has now become a joy without the threat of violence. Buddy has come into his own and now that the kids are gone, the empty nest is all about him and he is loving it. 

They say souls come into our world for a reason, and Buddy and Amos were destined to share their lives. Now Buddy is last man standing, left to be his own man alone and seemingly happy to be doing it on his own terms. 

La Vida Loca

Hey Bloggers! It's Friday and today I will attend the wake of a way too young member of my extended hometown family. The news of her passing threw us all for a loop here because she was/is each and everyone of us. Mother, daughter, woman wife, friend and confidant. I'm not going to say much more about it. What I will say it was the C word and I hate the C word. A lot.

I have chosen to live life and celebrate that I am living, breathing and trying to be healthy. I am celebrating that I am happy, in her honor.
I know this is so cliched and over played but I choose to keep it as my weekend mantra:

Happy weekend bloggers! Be happy we are alive!