Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Chapter 400

I was laying in my van reading my current book, Rad Dad dispatches from the frontiers of fatherhood.

Edited by Tomas Moniz and Jeremy Adam Smith

Microcosm Publishing 2011

It is so fresh, I was thinking it was published in 2012. Rad Dad simply stated should be enough to suggest it is not ones traditional fatherhood book. One has to have left their prejudices behind before they can make headway in this book.

It is a group of stories from fathers to be or fathers already. It is current and deals with many aspects of gender, privilege, race  etc. It is stirring me to write, causing me to want some companionship, a friend gender, race don't matter.

This is an aside of how I am feeling. I have been putting off going someplace today. I feel isolated and don't want to do it by myself. My insecurities are living on the top of my skin, paralyzing me. So be it. I will not go away from the house today. Part of that is probably because the past two days I took prescription medication for my back which I slept over night and woke up really sore possibly because of a pinched nerve.  It was so sore I could barely walk. That was on the 19th over to the 20th. The morning of the 20th I took in succession one at a time, tow 500 mg. acetaminophen. They didn't do anything to even take the pain down. I had to walk with my cane that I got for my knee issue. That night, I took a 5 mg. oxycodone a synthetic opiate that the doctors had given me for my knee issue. I never took it for that because when I had that issue, I also tore out all the nerves and had no feeling after the initial pain that was beyond almost anything I have ever experienced. Of course, I have a high pain threshold or so I am told by various medical people. So, I took that two days in a row and hot baths trying to break the cycle of pain. It feels like I have done it. I will not take it again because it is an addictive medicine. In 2007 when I had kidney stones, they gave me morphine in the drip. They told me up to 6 grains was available. I stopped them at 2 grains. That brought that pain at 10 on a scale of 1-10 down to a tolerable 4. I didn't want to be numb. So, I am thinking that my feelings of isolation are compounded by the Oxycodone.

You might wonder, why I am laying in my van reading. I feel at home there, where it is light and warm and I have slept there many times when laid over from work or on a road trip. This van is a much mine as any vehicle I have ever owned. It has been with me for 12 years, an old friend and trouble for me too. It has been part of my life for long time, but not as much a companion as a pet or a friend because it doesn't talk back.

Reading this book that I picked from a friends book shelf before my train trip to CA, thinking I would just sit on the train and read was far from what actually took place. I must return the book. I have had it now for a month and it is getting a little warn. I am more conscious of it more because it is not mine. If it was mine, I wouldn't pay that much attention. I pay more attention to things I've borrowed than things that are mine.

I had big plans for this summer, but I am slow to implement my own plans.

I have a whole bin full of journals and other note books I wanted to convert into digital material, but that didn't come about. I waste a lot of time surfing the net, playing solitaire. I have been forcing myself to read the book. When I read it I feel more connected, not so isolated. I think of the men in my family and how I am the only one left of my grandfathers, my dad, my uncle and my cousin who was like my older brother. I think of the men friends I've had and how I miss the old young Fred. He is now the old rather at a loss Fred, lost and over whelmed Fred. I think of my friend Ricky who was murdered back in 1992 and my friend Mark E. who I saw on my trip to CA. I am not close to any of these, have survived many of them and my friend Tom Steers up in Watsonville, CA. He is out of my league now, lot's of money. He may visit and it would be cool if I had a motorcycle so when he visited I could ride with him.

I think of my friend Jim Burkhart. He writes and we share the same birthday. We remain distant friends.

I suppose things with me happen differently than I think they should and I need to be patient. I was thinking in my van about how chaotic my life still is, how I am so far out there. Not that far, not so far when I read Rad Dad.

Tomorrow will be another chapter. Yesterday was another chapter. Bus yard, bid day, got my old route with only 2 changes so far. They took out a stop and added a new one with a new turnaround. That makes three turnarounds now. I am required to dry run it. That is work at minimum wage and drive the empty bus along the route getting familiar where the stops are and how long it might take me. Summe is almost over, school is almost in session again. School starts Sept. 5 a Wed. this year. We have new buses, new drivers and on October 4 I will have been doing this for 5 years. 5 years is a long time to reach the top of the pay scale, but that is where I will be. Finally, making another top wage that is lower than the past has seen. The thing about it is, I have a place and I am looking towards the future. The future is a goal I am working towards with a new living situation. I a little frightened because it is the unknown, but I have faced the unknown before and know that I really don't have anything to fear.  My plans are solid and will give me a boost in my self esteem and my ability to get out there and take road trips.  Once I get that plan into place I will then think about a new goal. One goal at a time. One chapter at a time. One moment at a time, drip, drip, drip....

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