Today was better, for some reason. I managed to repair the large-font Remington with steel epoxy putty, which gave me a great deal of satisfaction. Even before that--since Friday night, in fact--my prospects have been improving. I think my consumption of several beers triggered the upturn. They were Saranac Lights--not the lamented Pilseners--but they had to do. After those are gone, I am strongly considering not bringing any more Saranac products into the house. What would be the point? Pilsner Urquell is increasingly available, and it is the finest beer brewed anywhere. If I drink less, I can drink better. Much better.  ¶ 4:53 AM 0 comments

  THE MOST IRRITABLE MAN IN AMERICA, PART TWO

As if yesterday weren't lousy enough: the Saranac Brewery no longer sells the only domestic beer I truly delight in. They just stopped making Saranac Pilsener, just like that. The man at the discount beverage place said that he will getting a few cases in toward November, when the Pilsener makes a guest appearance in their Christmas sampler. But that's it--all gone. I am trying to think of a reason to keep living.  ¶ 11:14 PM 0 comments

  THE MOST IRRITABLE MAN IN AMERICA

Or so I would have to describe myself, at least today. In the mail was a broadly comic short story I sent out ages ago--I had forgotten it was still under consideration by anyone. (A slap from the past, from an editor who does not appreciate broadly comic stories.) Also was a BIG BOX that I had to chase down the mailman for--and which I did not have time to open since I had an appointment to go and get yelled at by my physician. It wasn't that I am now officially too fat to weigh in on the office scale--it was my goddamn blood sugar, and the fact that I couldn't be bothered to take decent care of myself. What with waiting in the office and the haranguing we didn't get away until about six, too late to get a table at any of the restarants that we would have preferred--I was already in a seriously foul mood. IHOP was okay, but coming home and opening the BIG BOX turned out to be the crowning disappointment--a large font (it types HUGE) Remington typewriter with a piece of the frame broken off in transit. I swore at Sue as she made all sorts of helpful suggestions and tried to console me. (I then remembered I had to fix the washer in the upstairs bathtub.) After two hours of sulking, I answered a forwarded joke email from my friend Alex with a bitter, uncalled-for diatribe. I then alternately screamed at and apologized to Sue. Right now I am listening to WQXR, trying to lower my blood pressure.

I know there are people in this world who have real problems such as the kid who is dying of leukemia at age 22 (the real reason for my doctor's outburst at me today, as it turns out)--but everyone is his own hell. I am thankful not to be bleeding in the street, but I just kind of wish at least one thing (the typewriter) would have gone right today. That would have made up for all else.  ¶ 1:58 AM 0 comments

  A TALE OF TWO PARTIES

It was the worst of days; it was the best of days--no, really. Sue and I got up late Saturday to attend a Dean gathering, "The Electric House Smackdown Party," hosted by the same woman who once promised us dinner and served us lame snacks. Though we smelled a train wreck, we struggled through a loss of hot water (we took saucepan showers with water heated on the stove) in order to attend this debacle out of loyalty to our group. We arrived an hour late to find a delectable spread of pepperoni and pretzels awaiting us. (And it was STICK pepperoni, none of your presliced stuff.) Our hostess rented a tent, tables, and chairs and placed a sizable ad in Saturday's paper announcing the party--and served pepperoni and pretzels! There was also supposed to be a conference call with Howard Dean at 2:45--this was postponed until 8:45. "You can stick around until then," our hostess informed us, "or you can leave and come back. We have chicken gyros." We opted not to stay or return. Sue later informed me that the chicken and a big jar of mayo had been sitting out on the kitchen counter all afternoon--a potential Salmonella Smackdown.

At 7:30 we stopped in on my friend Alex, who had lately returned from a visit to Alaska. Within minutes, he provided us Pilsner Urquells (!) and a spread of snacks including (but not limited to) pepperoni. There was cheese, crackers, oysters--and he then asked us if we'd like some filet mignon. I felt like I had just escaped from Bad Hostess Hell only to be seated at a soiree with Diamond Jim Brady. As he regaled us with stories of his adventures at the top of the world, we ate and drank and drank (Urquells and Stella Artoises) until well after 2:00 am. What a fun evening! What a lousy afternoon!  ¶ 3:35 PM 0 comments

  Here is something that you must type into your browser: http://takebackthemedia.com/true911.html

This is our "heroic" president on the worst day of our history. If this is not the portrait of a true sociopath, then I don't know what is. I found myself weeping after seeing this item--and I am as cynical a bastard as I know. 9/11 is something that we will never "get over" as a country, unless we are in psychotic denial, numbing ourselves with consumer goods and phony wars. It is like a broken heart, or an amputated limb--you never really "heal." You just deal with it, and try to go on as best you can. You always hurt, at some level. No amount of drinking, or shopping, or "revenge" can fix that.

And this FUCKER just SMILED and LET IT HAPPEN. GOD DAMN HIM. GOD DAMN HIM TO HELL.   ¶ 11:53 PM 0 comments

  Last night I roasted and canned sixteen pounds of hot peppers while listening to (among other things) Sydney, Australia, afternoon drive-time talk radio. (Tuning into Internet stations is still a "gee whiz" experience.) I finished with the long hots about 6:00 am, exhausted and ruined for any constructive activity today. When I got tired of hearing the Aussies debate about bus fares I went back to WQXR--another long-lost pleasure. I used to fall asleep listening to WQXR-AM every night, filling my dreams with classical music. (Our local classical station played way too much Schonberg and Max Reger and signed off at midnight.) As much as I love early jazz, I have been craving the classics lately. And WQXR--without static and interference from adjacent stations, and in high-fidelity stereo, and with Nimet STILL doing the overnight program--is the BEST. (If only the connection didn't fail at odd times--as it JUST DID. Still, Real One beats my old longwire roof aerial, for the most part.)  ¶ 12:23 AM 0 comments

  Friday morning a 16-year-old boy living in the next block was fatally stabbed in front of the Nice 'n' Easy convenience store down the street. The assailant, 24 years of age, was caught almost at once. This is a deeply sad extinguishing of a young life, and absolutely needless. If the Utica schools had opened on time this year, perhaps the kid wouldn't have been out on the street at 3:00 am. Sue said he was basically a good kid, not nasty, just sort of a ballbreaker like all kids can be. She taught his younger brother (also a ballbreaker) a year or so ago. Sue thought she might have seen someone resembling the assailant get beat up by two kids across the street from our house Thurday night. The kids ran, the guy got up refusing offers of help--he was clearly angry. Whatever the situation was, nobody deserves to die at 16.  ¶ 10:34 PM 0 comments

  My last attempt at posting was met with ill-fortune, which is probably just as well. I had nothing earth-shattering to impart--nor was it slanderous. I was just embracing autumn, as the season when (after a long summer of sleeping late and drinking heavily) I start to Feel Better. I felt well enough today to cut the front lawn that I had somehow managed to avoid since late June. It was like mowing down a forest. If I confine my alcohol intake to the weekend, I do navigate better, generally. Perhaps I will also be able to master my lethargy in the literary department to the point of sending out some query letters for my book. I think my system is ready to endure another brisk round of daily disappointment. I want to be WORTHY of my rejection letters.  ¶ 9:36 PM 0 comments