Turning the universe upside down

    I've had variations of the above phrase running through my head for weeks now. Even I am not delusional enough to think that this is within my power. However, it occurs to me that if one wishes to turn the universe upside down, one should maybe start with oneself. And that maybe if I were to let go of some of the Big Crazy (dietary restrictions, say) maybe some of the Little Crazy would go away, too. Only problem is that the dietary restrictions have helped a LOT with the Little Crazy. Hmmm. Maybe I should keep the dietary restrictions, but not worry about them. As I note, over and over, I ate that stuff for 45 years and more. Maybe I can't turn the universe over. But perhaps I can start with the Milky Way.

Maybe 51

    Well, the 50th birthday turned out not to be fiasco-free either. Dad fell on the way out to the car for dialysis. William picked him up with no problem and Dad just got some scrapes on his arm, but still. Damn, damn, damn. Maybe the 51st birthday will be the fiasco-free one. At least this one was SERIOUS fiasco free. So there's that.
    Today Dad is getting the clots removed from his (dialysis) access. I assume this will be quick, straightforward and pain-free. I'll be taking him there and bringing him home, so at least I'll be there to see how it goes immediately. Yesterday, he was unusually weak after dialysis. Hopefully, this isn't any part of a trend.

Sack of hammers

    I bought the new laptop (Notebook would be more correct and also sounds ever so much less crude, which is of course why I prefer laptop) but also a can of compressed air. The latter fixed the problem with the old laptop immediately. (Well, the laptop computer at least.) So the new one is sitting over there in its box. I do have at least one game that I can't play on this computer that I look forward to playing on that one. And there are untold numbers of other ones, and cheap ones, that I could get as well. So I'll be opening it today or tomorrow. It's the getting it set up on the Internet part that daunts me. That's a lot of passwords right there!
    Saw a truck today emblazoned Valley Proteins Greasetrap Division. If you think your job is unpleasant or undignified, I think there might be something worse.

Birthday suit

    This will be a brief one, as the promised death of this computer, or rather of its left-click button, is at hand, and it makes me fairly irritable to try to work with it.
    My friend, distant cousin and namesake just celebrated his 46th birthday the day after my 50th. (Weird, isn't it?) He mentioned on Facebook how he was looking forward to his 46th year being a good one. I didn't correct him because I'm having trouble with the math. I mean, I think that he just finished his 46th year. On your first birthday, you've just finished your first year after all. But of course your first birthday ought to be, you know, the day of your birth, the one where you're wearing your birthday suit. This would make your first birthday your second birthday, and every one after that one more than how we normally celebrate them. Wouldn't it? Now, not only won't my left-click button work but also my head hurts. Happy birthday, John!

Too pissed

    This probably won't be too Hemingway-like either. There's too much back story, and the back story isn't very interesting. More of a writing exercise than a blog entry. Sorry.
    Some months ago, during the never-ending crisis, I needed gas and so pulled the lever to open the little door over the... place where you put the gas in, whatever that might be called. Door didn't open. I tried to force it and it broke off entirely. I panicked a bit and went off and bought a locking gas cap. Problem solved.
    Yesterday, after all the fun and frivolity in Savannah, I was slightly low on gas and so stopped in Hardeeville SC to fill up. The card reader at the station for some reason wouldn't take my American Express. At the same time, I was tired, sun-baked and dehydrated, it was 95 degrees outside, and the guy at the next pump was blasting really godawful hip-hop at megadecibels. So I said hell with this and tried the next gas station, with the same results. At one or another station, probably the first, I left the locking gas cap on the trunk, and drove off without it. And drove all the way home without it. (Had enough gas after all, I guess!)
    Today, I filled up no problem with the same card, but noticed immediately that I no longer had a locking gas cap. Fortunately, I had kept the non-locking one and so just put that on. I guess it was an over-reaction all along. This isn't exactly a siphoning type of neighborhood. Anyway, I'll leave it until I wake up some morning with an unexpectedly empty tank. Which might be, I dunno, another sign of very late growing up.

Good birthday

    So for my birthday, I wanted to go up and enjoy the best view in South Carolina. However, this required climbing straight up, at least by my standards, and the weather forecast indicated that it would be 90 degrees today even in the mountains. So in a sudden burst of common sense, I opted to go to Savannah instead.
    I did also want to go to Savannah National Wildlife Refuge to look at alligators, so not that much common sense. But the alligators declined to cooperate. I guess by noon, when we arrived, they were all basked out and hiding in the water. Dang crotchety alligators.
    So we went on to Savannah. Lunch was at a Thai place, which we had a certain difficulty finding. But getting lost in Savannah is more fun than getting found in most places, so this was no major problem. Then we headed for the tourism zone. At this moment my brother Mal called to wish happy birthday. Hearing that we couldn't find parking, he looked it up on the smart phone and guided me to a garage. Serendipity!
    We walked around, enjoying the squares and Forsythe Park and SCAD and a couple antiquarian bookstores, at one of which Paul made an acquisition for the University. So there!
    I came out of the closet as a tourist, wearing a camera in plain sight for the first time in my life. People still stopped me to ask for directions. But at least it was in English for a change.
    We had an early supper at a Jamaican place, Sweet Spice, on Waters Avenue. It was more successful than the Thai place (Kai Noodles). I stretched a point and didn't bother mentioning that I'm celiac and needed to order gluten-free (though I had chosen both places because they were on a gluten-free friendly list). I may finally be starting to learn how to relax. Maybe.
    It was a glorious fun day, topped by a call to Dad and Margaret to confirm that indeed they had gone out dancing for the first time in more than a year. And this was much the best present of all.

Soundtrack

    My brain has decided I really, really want to listen to three songs over and over again these days. They are "Negative Love" by John Wesley Harding, "Blue Chalk" by Maura O'Connell, and "Friend of the Devil" by the Grateful Dead. The first I can figure, as it pretty much describes the last three years of my life. The other two are beyond me though. There haven't been any alcoholics in my life for a long time as far as I know. Neither has Mephistopheles (That can't possibly be spelled right, I thought, but looked it up and it is) turned up, again, so far as I know. Fortunately I like all three songs, so I'll just enjoy them and continue bewildered.
    The left-click button on this here laptop is wearing out, so my 400-odd day skein of unbroken blogging might break at any minute. I'm sure the Russian spambots will cope somehow.