One Month + Trumpet

The long man is born, contraction road one time and not a moment too soon. Same day as G MacDonald passes, graduate of 1970, hopefully some of that spirit and intelligence transfused.  Far from a tragedy.  Pursuit of excellence always to be honoured.  

Rebus night, planned from way back, carrier out tonight, both boys at home, Michelle O tomorrow.  We wait for any surprise NSP comments for TOA big otherwise good.  We wait for the drive to Sydney and the mine tour.  

We wait for the moments to come, Crossan blowing the trumpet tonight the foreshadowing.  Showing the pics of the new guy not yet real.  But life is good.  The club is good.  The passage of time is sad and tragic, but good.   Sadies, JEB, Sloan, Last Waltz, other nights of intoxication.  Lost to memory. Vik looking old in his 1952 shirt, but he knows the beat, still.  Life fading away slowly, but nights like this…

Good ones. Worth drinking to, with the finest stuff.

I remember Oct 17 as a date now. Nothing to be accomplished by sending that knowledge on.  Big I remember.  Leave it at that.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Regarding a comment on your book

Interested to hear what this will be?  On the meeting with the parents?  The epilogue?  Nanny?  Something not even on the radar?  Worked out well to provide the advance copy…  actually just about moving up the ring and adding the pearls from his mom’s mom and showing affection and the epilogue being a tad long.  Easy fixes. More concerning is the return of the drinking and smoking since the Thanksgiving trip, which seemed to go well and yet.  The desire for wine on night one, switched to rum on night three, and all the old terrible signs - the glossy eyes, the slurred words, strange behavior with the boys.  Managed to avoid triggering an escalation before the inevitable passing out, upright watching some show. Need to be delicate in raising the concerns pre-London.  It’s the price you pay for the selfishness of the trip back to the Thames, but the sanity requires it.  I’m sure it will work out.  The guys need the wake-up call a...
Read more

Normally the Dad Picks Them Up

And with that throwaway line on a random Friday night, a stranger ruins my week, perhaps my life.   Really not fair to say that it’s always the same, no safe space to vent, etc.  But you’ll be hearing about that Angela line and the rest until death.  Put it on my tombstone, worked hard but never stood up for his wife in her eyes, always took the other person’s side in her eyes, no matter what he said or did.   So hard to be irrational, must be so weird to live in that world.  I felt like when she started throwing the word vagina around it might have been a little over the top, that was my first mistake.   Try again. Fail again. Trust the process.  Ay me.
Read more

Thamadness

Hello again old friend, the slurring, the glossy eyes, the unreason, the distance, the suddenness of the descent.  Obsession over the character of others.  The rise of loneliness, the rapid fall into an abyss which takes time to get out.  That time again.  The moon cycles.  And you never learn because it happened once more. So much to deal with and balance and yet.  The same.  Analogies with trying to instruct AA about the rules.  No hitting no pushing no kicking no biting no throwing.  And yet. No drinking no smoking. And yet.  The human being. See you next month, same time, same maddening place.  Or maybe vow to make 2025 different?  Can you?   Nothing is impossible…
Read more