there's a light at the end of the tunnel

…literally

last night while I was mourning the end of an era…

I got word that the lights were back on in the building.

no fire suppression…

no heat…

but the bastard has electric.

so after today…

after over three weeks…

I can finally go home.

—the bastard

…on the discovery process

"you can send me to hell but I'll never let go of your hand."

–tom waits

so the bastard has been going to get his knee worked on just do he could plod his way back to functionality.

and he has made an interesting discovery.

old injuries come back to fuck you up.

THEN: in 19 diggity 9, the bastard was out horseback riding with the club.

I wasn't in the club. it it was called a club ride.

you go out for two hours and run around the park and scare the shit out of joggers and mountain bikers alike.

and a good time is had by all.

I was riding on a 38 year old Tennessee walker called tango and to ride tango was like riding through the park on the back of a fast moving couch.

best ride you'll ever get… ever.

but tango was a wise old trail zombie and while we ran (the old fucks from the club LOVED to run their beasts into the ground and smoke cigarettes), we were coming up to a clearing do I pulled the reigns on tango to slow his down.

he took the bit into his teeth and dropped his head to show me who's boss.

I started sawing the bit as I was taught to as I was slipping on my saddle to the left.

so with a big tug and a flex from my right hip, I pulled myself back on.

and then a felt a pop like I just cracked a huge knuckle.

that morning, the bastard limped home and it got better and sometimes when it's a special kind of humid, my hip tells me stories about how he bailed my ass out in diggity 9.

NOW: almost three months into a knee injury I never wanted from ironically enough I fostered by exercise, the bastard is doing this exercise that involves me doing squats on one leg and then switching to the other

"I think I'm starting to see something that might be the source of your problems", said doctor smith of the middle east

"me too", I replied

"it seems that you're weaker on your right side"

"I see as well. you see I had this experience in which I had to prevent myself from falling off of a galloping horse. it felt like I cracked a big knuckle in my hip"

"you might have damaged a tendon. and you may have been compensating for it. and it may have paid dividends on your left knee"

"doc, that was over 13 years ago"

"stranger things have happened"

shit. 13 year old near riding accident comes back to wreck knee.

details at eleven.

—the bastard

outta doors…

… in the swamp

first vacation I've been on in a bit where I'm not completely paranoid.

it's a step in the right direction

—the bastard

lucky…

lucky old man lives by the river

lucky old man walked down to the river tonight to think about things

lucky old man dodged a bullet

lucky old man wants the voices to stop

lucky old man has a loaf of bread under each arm.

lucky old man gets to keep his job.

lucky old man is lucky.

lucky man wonders when his luck is gonna run out.

lucky old man will drink whiskey later and think more on the subject.

—the bastard

…on these little silences

went out for a drink with lobster Johnson tonight

he and mrs. Johnson were going to see some burlesque tonight and we caught up for a meal.

made for a tasty pork chop and some good brew.

made for a better Friday night that would have added up to the bastard working on the daily and drinking whiskey.

nothing against whiskey but,

the bastard likes a little time in the yard with the people.

makes him feel a little more adjusted to his circumstances.

also

it's keeps him from punching you in the face

—the bastard

knights of the rails part4

"stick to your guns" is what the bastard decided on the Tarmac at 4:55 this morning

travel on a budget ain't easy

and it ain't gonna get any easier with a crappily made cheese steak being washed down with decent whiskey.

but no one said the bastard wanted it easy.

east is for people who are ready to drop 40 bucks to sit on the van wyck with a crappily made cheesesteak washed down with decent whiskey.

way I see it, I'm gonna feel I'll either way and if I hit all my marks, I'm only gonna lose 20 minutes of my life.

and I get some cardio out of it.

who am I kidding, I'd rather be sleeping in a cab on the van wyck but a man's gotta stick to his guns.

—the bastard

song track: the mob rules

soon

sitting in the chaos of boxes and crap

the bastard thinks that a life of tumult is the life for he.

we had a massive upheaval last week in the office that I can't talk about right now.

but, it made me very aware of my place in this world.

it also made me grateful for my place in the world.

my place of tumult

in a sea of boxes

in the dark

waiting for to go.

to go across the river towards home.

my new home

my old home.

across the river.

getting close.

the bastard has never been all that grateful. but it's time for a change.

thank you.

you know who you are.

—the bastard

…long weekend

the bastard is bogging

late brekky with my sister and brother in law makes for lead weight in my stomach.

I'm digesting other things too.

the home buying nightmare is nightmare.

the bastard looks forward to a time down the road when Sunday is a day in which he doesn't roll out of bed to go to open house hell.

someday soon because our own closing looms large like the sword of damacles.

—the bastard

crack in the armor

so we're finally taking the plunge.

looking for a new place in earnest.

and today couldn't have been a worse house hunting day.

the lic wasn't wearing it's best face.

and the open houses were wack.

I hope shit works out. or perhaps it's gonna be Brooklyn where the bastard lays his head for the next 10 years.

work with me queens.

—the bastard

fumes…

it's been said,

"somedays you get the bear. and somedays the bear gets you".

needless to say, the bastard didn't get the bear last night.

in fact what he got was a paddlin at the hofbrauhaus.

it's the only place I've gone where I don't care if they screw up my food order because I'm there for a stein of "lake beer I can dock my boat to".

but what happened was,

my party had also ordered shots of apple scnapps.

shots come on a paddle.

so needless to say, we all got a paddlin.

then the bastard essentially made no headway with the dice.

this always strikes me as a every other kind of thing.

so who knows,

next year can end up being a more lucrative trip instead of a more paddly trip.

at least I can still sit down.

—the bastard

loaded…

…is the word the computer says as the bastard gets into the cab



loaded is how he feels on two hours of sleep.

loaded is what he may or may not be when he arrives

loaded kind of makes the bastard more like cargo than man

—the bastard

…sweet

holy hannah.

this time last year, the bastard was foolish enough to lock keys in his car while it was still running which made sleeping nigh impossible.

fortunately, this incident did not happen.

and all was right with the world.

however, it doesn't make him any less tired than he was at this time last year.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

—the bastard

on saturdays…

…shit is local yo!



oh MTA,

why you gotta suck so very much?

weekend service is always a dicey proposition

but, the bastard knows for shit sure that the garage is gonna be buried.

today might be the day when the bastard has his heart attack.

fml

—the bastard

…on tunnel vision

so many dead trees.

so little time.

I think the bastard ceded defeat to his wife on two or three separate disagreements when I got home because I just couldn't care.

all I see are pages and pages and pages.

it took me 40 minutes to believe I was home eating carne asada and not my one flesh as I gnawed it off of my leg trying to break free from an imagined shackle attached to my desk.

and I'm not even halfway there.

I'm not even in the goddam tunnel at this point.

—the bastard

it's gross out

let the bastard start off by saying that he's a man that truly enjoys his alone time.

be it on the road,

in and empty apartment with a sleeping baby,

or on the damn subway listening to jethro tull

but I think today being extra gross out just puts a finer point on how weary shitty weather can make a man.




two open houses today spent out in the dank.

neither cold nor warm but gross out.

well I did get a good burger today but,

it's just so nasty out. and I m thinking that our ship to queens isnt gonna come in thus year which sits on my lower back right now like a cinder block right about now.

can't wait to get home and hear the meh news.

—the bastard

it's effing saturday…

…so the bastard is on walkabout.

so my ladyfriend is back from the hinterland and here I am riding the rails with the outer state teenage ugg army.

you think these girls could at least get different colors to keep me entertained.

oh well… the idle rich folk's kids.

yawnz.

ok where was I?

right. getting the car via our lovely mass transit system.

and

my head feels like it's been kicked in

but,

at least a man has his freedom

and his honeydew list. ahhhh domestic bliss.

—the bastard

things to do on your floor…

…while waiting for your daughter to nap



now, let me preface this by saying that the first thing I thought to do was take a nap on the floor.

but I'm doing this instead.

my ladyfriend is on her way to the airport for travel to corn country

and the bastard has been left to fend for himself with the lil lady.

now you must be asking yourself, "hey jackass, why don't you just sit on the couch or lay down on your bed?"

well jerkface, it's like this

the bastard is also doing an open house in a couple few and I don't want to muss up the furniture.

so here I am lying on the floor. waiting for bebe to nap so I can clean the apartment up for some goofballs to come by and decide if they wanna live here.

I think I might try that nap now instead.

—the bastard

tired?

got in at two.

got to bed by three

got up at eight

still on the subway at ten

two cups of coffee short right about now.

the shit a bastard'll do to keep his ride from getting ticketed by johnny law.

frikkin move already f train. the bastard has shit to do

—the bastard

dear children of mine

I woke up in the middle of posting about something else on the train and a song came on that made me think of you.

and made me feel fortunate inside for having you in my life.

thank you

love,

dad

—the bastard

…push/pull

the bastard is gonna make it plain to you.

life is a series of negotiations.

and compromises.

and choices.

and I've had more than my share of all three.

but I'm riding shotgun right now with my son on the f train right now

but I'm also riding shotgun with the long with negotiations between my wife and my son.

and neither of them understand how to deal with each other.

and I'd like to think that they will work shit out with one another.

hell, I'm sure they will one of these days.

but,

today ain't that day.

probably won't be tomorrow either.

but it'll be one day and I can deal with that for now.

—the bastard