Swifty phiphty niner

My friend told me the other day that I live an examined life.   I’ve heard the phrase before, or some form of it but I do live the life examined.   It’s not for the faint of heart.   I’ve heard that phrase before too.   What does it mean to me?   It started 30 years ago when I decided I had enough of the boozin’ life and decided to give AA a try.   But that was just the start.   There is a potential in AA to really examine your life and turn it around.   But I got hung up on the aspect of alcohol being the driving force behind all your exhortation.   Before the booze I was a sick person.   Sick with depression.   Sick with the thought that life can’t be this bad.   At that tender age though, you have no options.   You’re stuck with the family you got.   Or the family you picked if you believe in the cosmic “everything happens for a reason.”   You pick your parents because you have lessons you need to learn in this lifetime.   I’m not sure I’m fully on board with that line but I can

I haven’t written an entry for a week so let’ see where I’m at.   I just got off the phone with my “neurologist”.   I didn’t like my first choice that I was given and this new doctor was my 2 nd choice.   Actually I didn’t get either of my choices because they’re not in my medical group.   My new doctor, Dr Sheikh, is completely insane.   When I went in the first time I had to wait 45 minutes past my apt. time even though there were no patients in the office!   She was scolding her staff for not running the office the way they should be running an office.   It reminded me of a family business which isn’t bad but don’t beat the laundry in front of the customers.   As it was, I didn’t get to see her, I saw her nurse practitioner.   Nuts.   I want my 7 month old headache taken care of by a doctor.   I apologize to nurses everywhere as I mean no disrespect.   I feel at this stage I need a neurologist that is trained specifically for this area to treat me properly.   I talked to “Jody”

Oktoberfest.   A 16 day celebration of drinking mass quantities of beer and merry making in the southern Bavarian province in a town called Munich. It started in 1810 to celebrate a royal marriage and someone thought it would be a great idea to do it every year.   This is my story of my personal Oktoberfest.   A teenage tale of high adventure, suspense, thrills and nerve wracking escapes.   This story has it all. My companions had traveled from afar to surprise me with mirth and merriment and their visit had done so.   It was post-war Germany (ok, ok, it was 1971) and my visiting colleagues and I were restless with an empty Friday night in front of us and no plans penciled in on the calendar.   We were meaning to imbibe and celebrate our rare but occasional reunion but no plans from headquarters had kept us mum for the moment.   We needed jubilation, cheers and toasts to celebrate our reunion.   Everett, Spivey and Troy were last seen a year previous so it was going to be joyous i

About 10 years ago I was diagnosed with bipolar illness.   Illness, challenge, disorder, mayhem, whatever you want to call it.   It used to called manic depression and I still prefer that wording.   Not because of any degree of how I feel but it just sounds cooler.   And Hendrix wrote a song called Manic Depression.   Just trying to be part of the cool kids here.   I was under a great deal of stress and fighting for my spirit with a fierce desperation unlike I have ever done before in my life.   The depression side of the disorder was not a stranger to me.   I remember taking long walks before I was ten, early, early in the mornings and looking at homes and wondering what kind of lives were happening in there.   I hoped it wasn’t all the same as the life happening in my home.   I knew my home was bad, but I didn’t know to what degree.   It just didn’t feel right but I had no wisdom at the time to know how to deal with the pressure I felt about it.   Was it a normal household and a

One of my lifetimes I was a surgical technician.  That meant that I was the first person in the room, I would scrub my hands thoroughly (10 minutes) and gown and glove myself and then start setting up the instruments for whatever surgery we were going to perform.  It was a cool job as I got to see what few people could ever imagine.  I actually got to put my hand on a beating heart one time.  Wow, that was something that you’d never think you’d get to do on a job.  It was a pretty cool job as far as jobs go but in the end the hours started interfering with being a single full time dad.  I gave it up for an 8 to 5 Monday through Friday job.  I’ve never regretted my decision as I felt I could always have a job but the opportunity to raise a son only came be once.   When I lived in South Lake Tahoe I worked at Barton Memorial Hospital.  It was much smaller than Sutter General whence I came from.  As part of my job I had to put hours on the Code C team.  When a Code C was announced w

To the delight of Miss Right I've written her a poem tonight. So this isn't a tale of knights and kings and queens Of squires and ladies and other royal things, I don't want to court you in that mannerly way. With words of poetry from all those fancy plays I hope you hear lutes and harps and angelic screams When I describe to you the love, the drama and the ways Of the pictures in my mind of you in my dreams. You've been trouble in my trousers since I first felt your charm My thoughts swirling lustily in the mist of your provocative scent I've swung you up on my horse so many times I ruined my arm If you lost a bit of that lusty ass my horses back wun't be so bent. Your smile can make any day so bright Your laugh can make the leaves in the tree so unsettled When you glance at me my pants get so tight Oh dear, I cant wait to take you in the meadow! I have made love to you in every imaginable way, On the bed, on the floor, against the wall and

Soul mate.   From whence did these words come?   Actually it was about 1,000 years ago when courtly love was introduced into the western world.   Before that it was probably arranged marriages and you grew into love or great like with your mate.   But courtly love was a different beast altogether.   The symbolism was the pairing of the feminine and the masculine in the mind creating a balanced union, a spiritual connection, peace with your interior and exterior world.   I know I know, I’ve been reading Jungian psychology but it’s been calling out to me for the past 30 years and I think it has merit.   The idea being that it was carried out on a mental level, never to be carried on a physical level.   When the projection of romance fades (and it always does), if you are still in love with the flesh and blood woman in front of you than my hats off to you.   I have been fascinated by long term relationships my whole life.   My parents being the first one I witnessed and what I witness