I was in cancer treatment for two years, 2012-2014. (No immune system, so I couldn't go anywhere without a mask. Most particularly I was told to stay away from kids.) It was useful preparation for covid. I started a blog, that no one read, during that period. Silence and stillness are gifts.
It's personal. Not a big crowd pleaser. I'd love you to read it. http://algonquinonthebayou.blogspot.com/ I think I turned off comments because it was a bit embarrassing to be so completely invisible, especially when a blog is so much damned work. If I can't get paid in dollars, I figured I should at least get paid in attention, narcissist that I am.
Sharon, your blog is so fascinating and well written. You need to write a memoir. It is something that we both lost younger brothers and they both ended up in Utah. (At least that is what I surmise from the blog. I am so very sorry. I hope I did not misinterpret). I lost my brother Buddy on 10/6/84 in Park City, UT. He drowned in a hot tub after a party at someone's house. He went alone into the hot tub.
Good grief, Lauren. WTF? How you must grieve. I used to hang out in Park City all the time wishing I had the money and courage to ski. I watched people wipe out on the slopes and come in like the walking wounded of Da Nang. I have another blog that's less transparent than Algonquin. That dead brother of mine, Jamie, was the most gorgeous man in my life...ever. He died when some redneck ran a red light in front of him while he was on his motorcycle going to work one fine August morning in 2013. I can't get over it. Jamie was the most generous, caring man in the world. A machinist with the good sense, all on his own, to figure out what a bunch of grifters ran "movement conservatism". He took care of my aging parents, then me, and never even expected a "thank you". I tried to think how I could thank him, and so I started writing to one of his sons who was serving a 12-year mandatory-minimum sentence for selling meth. Said son Job was also drop-dead gorgeous, a Calvin Klein underwear model type. I had thinly veiled contempt for Job. I thought he was a dope. When I started writing him I was stunned to learn not only was he not a dope, he was a better writer than me. Doh! Job and I were in the middle of this passionate correspondence when Jamie was killed. Job didn't come home for the funeral...obviously. It brought an abrupt end to our "writers project". Job got out after 10 years when Obama ordered an end to that mandatory-minimum shit. Since then, Job's been a steady hard working stiff. No respectable white woman would have him, of course, so he found a more open-hearted Black woman with a young son. They have an incredibly beautiful four-year-old daughter. They live quietly in a trailer next door raising Brahman chickens and dachshunds. As I told him in a letter, "When you come out, you'll be corrected," and he is. He's even had his voting rights restored and is on his way to having his record expunged. (continued)
I'm sure you can guess how he votes. I wish he would run for office. I'm sure he would win, though I wouldn't wish such a brutal life on my worst enemy. Anyway, in the slightly anonymized version of our correspondence I'm Aunt Patrice. https://thebookofjobdunn.blogspot.com/
You can do it. This blog is the start and it is wonderful. I am so very very sorry about your beautiful brother Jamie. My brother was so handsome, smart with a wonderful personality. He had everything going for him. I miss him.
"There could be no parties, no concerts, nothing of the kind, so I trained my mind to forget about all that. Even when the restrictions lifted, I rarely went out—just the occasional dinner with my wife." That's It! I trained my mind (and dancing feet) to just forget about all that. An important human accommodation, masking a horrible loss.
The biggest shift in my life has been the loss of weekly contra dancing. It should absolutely be the last thing to open up. I have replaced it with long walks around the lake, which is lovely on its own.
My 8 year old is being swept up in Beatles music. He can now identify which one is singing, 90% of the time. I couldn't even do that as recently as last year!
Have taught this for years 'cause the kiddos recognize & appreciate so much of its satire, especially Vonnegut's eerie prediction that the TV would become a misinformation machine. Aside ~ there was a short movie adaptation with Armie Hammer (pre-crazy) as Harrison called 2081: Universal Absurdity which not surprisingly seems to have "disappeared" from YouTube. More of a "Steak & Ale" gal than S&W though I'd never turn down that kind of meal...
You capture New York brilliantly. So well done. I will pray for your friend’s recovery. Glad you were able to enjoy yourself and be safe. P.S. You saw the only not totally stupid Sturgis person.
Yep. I detest sports to this day. Back in the 50s and 60s, girls' sports programs were the pits. Nary a cool Coach Olear in sight. I actually did become a ninja on first base for my church soft ball team. (Mama wouldn't let me quit.) I have no idea how that happened. Suddenly one day a miracle occurred and I could catch anything thrown at me. Glory Hallelujah!
Lived in New York City for 26 years. I still miss it. But I don’t miss the rent. I miss the bagels, Sherry Lehman, St. Patrick’s Cathedral: my parish, my doctors there. But not the avaricious landlords and real estate agents. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself Greg. Pass the red sauce!
Swear to Gawd the 3 books most prominent on my shelf right now: Welcome to the Monkey House, Slaughterhouse Five, and On the Road (Kerouac) in that order
Thank you, Greg. I read this early in college when I, too, was on a Vonnegut kick in my impressionable years. And often, perhaps a few times a year, I think about it.
I was, of course, horrified by pushy "leaders" then as now (particularly fcking GOP "leaders") and the handicaps are presented as a "liberal solution" to inequality.
Which is, of course, The Real Big Lie that evil men would have us (or the 30%) believe, merely to retain their own power and benefits.
I know of No Liberals who would ever perpetrate such a horror, but as you point out, it's just the tickets for super-Repubs.... that's right: FCKING LIBERTARIANS
I was in cancer treatment for two years, 2012-2014. (No immune system, so I couldn't go anywhere without a mask. Most particularly I was told to stay away from kids.) It was useful preparation for covid. I started a blog, that no one read, during that period. Silence and stillness are gifts.
Is there a link to your blog? I will read it.
It's personal. Not a big crowd pleaser. I'd love you to read it. http://algonquinonthebayou.blogspot.com/ I think I turned off comments because it was a bit embarrassing to be so completely invisible, especially when a blog is so much damned work. If I can't get paid in dollars, I figured I should at least get paid in attention, narcissist that I am.
Sharon, your blog is so fascinating and well written. You need to write a memoir. It is something that we both lost younger brothers and they both ended up in Utah. (At least that is what I surmise from the blog. I am so very sorry. I hope I did not misinterpret). I lost my brother Buddy on 10/6/84 in Park City, UT. He drowned in a hot tub after a party at someone's house. He went alone into the hot tub.
Good grief, Lauren. WTF? How you must grieve. I used to hang out in Park City all the time wishing I had the money and courage to ski. I watched people wipe out on the slopes and come in like the walking wounded of Da Nang. I have another blog that's less transparent than Algonquin. That dead brother of mine, Jamie, was the most gorgeous man in my life...ever. He died when some redneck ran a red light in front of him while he was on his motorcycle going to work one fine August morning in 2013. I can't get over it. Jamie was the most generous, caring man in the world. A machinist with the good sense, all on his own, to figure out what a bunch of grifters ran "movement conservatism". He took care of my aging parents, then me, and never even expected a "thank you". I tried to think how I could thank him, and so I started writing to one of his sons who was serving a 12-year mandatory-minimum sentence for selling meth. Said son Job was also drop-dead gorgeous, a Calvin Klein underwear model type. I had thinly veiled contempt for Job. I thought he was a dope. When I started writing him I was stunned to learn not only was he not a dope, he was a better writer than me. Doh! Job and I were in the middle of this passionate correspondence when Jamie was killed. Job didn't come home for the funeral...obviously. It brought an abrupt end to our "writers project". Job got out after 10 years when Obama ordered an end to that mandatory-minimum shit. Since then, Job's been a steady hard working stiff. No respectable white woman would have him, of course, so he found a more open-hearted Black woman with a young son. They have an incredibly beautiful four-year-old daughter. They live quietly in a trailer next door raising Brahman chickens and dachshunds. As I told him in a letter, "When you come out, you'll be corrected," and he is. He's even had his voting rights restored and is on his way to having his record expunged. (continued)
I'm sure you can guess how he votes. I wish he would run for office. I'm sure he would win, though I wouldn't wish such a brutal life on my worst enemy. Anyway, in the slightly anonymized version of our correspondence I'm Aunt Patrice. https://thebookofjobdunn.blogspot.com/
Lauren, one day I might have the courage to write about events that led me to move to Utah for a year. I'm not there yet.
You can do it. This blog is the start and it is wonderful. I am so very very sorry about your beautiful brother Jamie. My brother was so handsome, smart with a wonderful personality. He had everything going for him. I miss him.
Your support means so much to me, Lauren. I'm a pathetic creature yearning for validation. LOL
As a little girl growing up in Cajun Dogpatch, I dreamed of New York City. I was sure that anything I could dream up could be found there.
Thank you for this, Greg. I thought I'd read everything Vonnegut ever wrote, but somehow I missed "Harrison Bergeron".
BTW, Bergeron is a fine Cajun name. I know just how to pronounce it.
"There could be no parties, no concerts, nothing of the kind, so I trained my mind to forget about all that. Even when the restrictions lifted, I rarely went out—just the occasional dinner with my wife." That's It! I trained my mind (and dancing feet) to just forget about all that. An important human accommodation, masking a horrible loss.
The biggest shift in my life has been the loss of weekly contra dancing. It should absolutely be the last thing to open up. I have replaced it with long walks around the lake, which is lovely on its own.
Lovely walks around my lake, too! And dancing to oldies in my kitchen.
My 8 year old is being swept up in Beatles music. He can now identify which one is singing, 90% of the time. I couldn't even do that as recently as last year!
Have taught this for years 'cause the kiddos recognize & appreciate so much of its satire, especially Vonnegut's eerie prediction that the TV would become a misinformation machine. Aside ~ there was a short movie adaptation with Armie Hammer (pre-crazy) as Harrison called 2081: Universal Absurdity which not surprisingly seems to have "disappeared" from YouTube. More of a "Steak & Ale" gal than S&W though I'd never turn down that kind of meal...
You capture New York brilliantly. So well done. I will pray for your friend’s recovery. Glad you were able to enjoy yourself and be safe. P.S. You saw the only not totally stupid Sturgis person.
So unfortunate about your daughter and basketball.
Yep. I detest sports to this day. Back in the 50s and 60s, girls' sports programs were the pits. Nary a cool Coach Olear in sight. I actually did become a ninja on first base for my church soft ball team. (Mama wouldn't let me quit.) I have no idea how that happened. Suddenly one day a miracle occurred and I could catch anything thrown at me. Glory Hallelujah!
Lived in New York City for 26 years. I still miss it. But I don’t miss the rent. I miss the bagels, Sherry Lehman, St. Patrick’s Cathedral: my parish, my doctors there. But not the avaricious landlords and real estate agents. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself Greg. Pass the red sauce!
Let it shine.
Swear to Gawd the 3 books most prominent on my shelf right now: Welcome to the Monkey House, Slaughterhouse Five, and On the Road (Kerouac) in that order
I couldn't make it through On the Road. Something in it made my hackles rise. Can't remember what.
Thank you, Greg. I read this early in college when I, too, was on a Vonnegut kick in my impressionable years. And often, perhaps a few times a year, I think about it.
I was, of course, horrified by pushy "leaders" then as now (particularly fcking GOP "leaders") and the handicaps are presented as a "liberal solution" to inequality.
Which is, of course, The Real Big Lie that evil men would have us (or the 30%) believe, merely to retain their own power and benefits.
I know of No Liberals who would ever perpetrate such a horror, but as you point out, it's just the tickets for super-Repubs.... that's right: FCKING LIBERTARIANS
😊
Bingo! It's a shame I can only hit that like button once.
You seem to really get it. Yes it is hard when you have to find a job, find an opportunity. It can be demoralizing.
Thank you for your insight & thoughtfulness.