Looking for clues at the scene of the crime

Still trying to find the answers to life’s persistent questions…

What the hell did I used to enjoy? What was the point? Still don’t know what I was waiting for…

Growing up took up twenty years. After that work, work, work, work, work. What was there to enjoy? I loved going to Dead shows back in the day. That was fun and satisfying. Then that faded away. What’s left? Raising the kids. Which involves a great deal of monotony.

Still sick. Seems to have left me rather unhappy. Jesus, what was the point of any of it? How did I get distracted in the past? Not satisfied. Nothing seems all that interesting.

I’m happy to have a lot of my favorite science fiction movies on DVD and VHS. I like watching those. Always did. Tracking down the final few ultra-obscure ones.

Maintaining the Campmobile and going on the Baja trip was satisfying. A rear-guard action. That better, vanished time thing.

I enjoyed living near the ocean. Somewhere to ride my bicycle. Living in the suburbs doesn’t have a lot of places to ride a bicycle to. There’s nothing here. Which is what makes it the suburbs, I guess.

I mean, what’s left? Raise the kids and pay off the house.

Get the palm tree removed, got a quote for that… repair the aquarium hood, that will be very good, I miss having a light in the aquarium. Makes the living room look good. Get the front lights fixed. Lay in a supply of firewood. Get the kids’ eyes checked.

Hope to continue to be able to make ends meet, somehow. I’m thinking about saving aluminum soda pop and cat food cans. Money IS that tight.

The truck is paid for, why not sell it and get a smaller vehicle? I like the truck. It’s not like any little kid played with a Tonka SEDAN… sometimes I’ll look on craigslist at aircooled VWs… but I’m done with those. I should have kept the ’76 and/or the ’65, but I was tired of working on them. The kids needed attention at the time.

What is there left to hold my interest? Getting the kids raised. Flynn is SIXTEEN now, amazing. Cassidy is twelve.

Everything seems cut and dried — punch the clock and make the payments. Nothing seems that interesting to me any more. Art? Drawing? I haven’t done it for years and years. Nothing seems to matter any more. And I wonder, thinking back about people I’ve known, doesn’t everyone feel this same way? What’s the point?

The mystery here is that once upon a time I felt interested in things, like I was on the trail of something important. Now? Not so much. I identified strongly with the late 60s and early 70s and that era has completely faded. People seem like materialistic idiots to me these days.

My relationship with the kids is good. I wish that Flynn would visualize some kind of future for himself. He seems determined to have no future. Which, maybe, is the right idea…

What did I waste my time with? All those years… makes me hurt to think about it. Dumb misadventures. I loved living in the back house. What an amazing neighborhood. Came and went. Dated Susan for a while, that seemed important. She was just mean. Things faded until I went to work at Rockwell, then it was work, work, work… ended up married, twice. Talk about not learning my lesson. Then we moved down here to the suburbs. That was hard to adjust to. 1995 was unpleasant, hard. It was so good to get home on a Monday night and build a fire and watch football and play with Flynn. Things faded badly with Diane. I thought she was just being a jerk. She never participated. That was disappointing.

So I’ve made the whole thing up for fifteen years. And now I feel like I’m out of ideas. I like to drink wine and watch Good Eats DVDs while I make dinner. Money is very tight these days, not enough money to make ends meet, really. I’m still looking for a job but nothing has come up. Cassidy has just begun middle school. She needs some shepherding to get her homework done in the afternoons…

Getting the aquarium fixed and laying in a supply of firewood both seem important to me. Make it seem more like home. Maintain “home” for the kids.

Cassidy is going to “sixth grade camp” in March, so I need to assemble equipment for her. Some decent shoes, rain boots, warm clothing… it’s no fun being cold. I remember when Flynn went to sixth grade camp. I think he enjoyed himself. He claims he remembers nothing except nosebleeds.

Doing laundry. Need to do more dishes. Need to fill the fountain with water and attend to a gardening project. Need to pull weeds out in front, which have really popped up after the rains. Plant out more bits of iceplant. And plant out more cuttings of that “red apple” ground cover which is STILL HERE after fifteen years!!! Amazing.

Think about replanting the lawn again. Maybe just having a plain lawn is a good idea. Plant some ordinary bedding plants. Maybe some tomatoes near the back wall or something. I need to devise some defense against the squirrels.

Hope I shake this cold soon.


One thought on “Looking for clues at the scene of the crime

  1. cantueso says:

    Anyway, you were able to write this up. Most people can’t even do that.

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