Amy the Bear

So we've had, or we Had, as it were - Amy Bear for about 8 years. We got her just before I graduated high school, she was just this little ball of fur. My dad loved Norwegian Elkhounds, his favorite breed.

The thing about Elkhounds are they are TOUGH dogs. The spiked collars you see on some dogs these days were created for the Elkhound, they chained them together back in the Old days with spiked collars to keep Wolves out and off the land. The spiked collar of course protects the neck. These were dogs vikings took with them. These are Nasty creatures if raised to be.

BUT with love and attention you couldn't have a more loving dog. They will protect you to the last, they will love you without holding back. They will NEVER bite a child. As far as dogs go, they are incredibly smart.

Dad named her Amy the Bear because she reminded him of that bear from the children's stories - little bear. God he loved her so much. You can see it, both sides of it in this picture taken when she was just a puppy


Sunday morning my mother woke up to a mess. Amy hadn't been eating right the last couple weeks, just nibbling, but with her teaching 3rd grade, and me in bed most of the time, money being quite tight, the vet was out of the question until Feb Vacation - which is in 2 weeks. So we'd been cooking her chicken and such and cutting it up in her food - a bit of extra motivation to eat.

Its the hardest thing to tell when an Elkhound is sick or hurt. They remain almost as cheerful, and they have incredible pain tolerances. They don't whimper or howl. They don't lay down in a corner and not move.

Sometime late Saturday night the Bear began to bleed out. Mom woke up to find a blood trail into the TV room that lead to a 13" in diameter pool of dark red blood. Before 10AM Amy had repeated this twice more, and was beginning to have trouble walking. You could tell, or I could tell, that she was in pain, not because she was showing solid signs, but because she'd lay down for 2 minutes, get up - walk 2 feet and lay back down again in a different position, which incidentally is something I do.

Ended up taking her to the Tufts ER, because it was apparent that she REALLY wasn't doing well.

I didn't have a good feeling about it, but began to feel better about it as she sat in the backseat of my car, tail up, ears back, grinning and looking out the window the whole ride there, as if she were on her way to the park to play.

I got her there at 10:30AM, and they took her right in - cept she didn't want to leave my side, so I had to lead her into the back. My body could only handle the benches for so long, so by the time mom showed up I was barely able to walk and had to go get in the car and head home right off.

Mom was there until 6pm. It was eventually decided that she had Cancer, and the outlook was bad. They didn't think she'd last much longer without a transfusion, which we sure as hell can't afford. So they brought mom in to see her. Amy was pretty confused, but after a while realized who mom was, went over, tail wagging and sat down between her legs smiling away.

Its hell to put down a dog that you love. They become so much more than just a dog. I remember when I took Zack in to be put down, a dog I had had from the age of about 7 until I was 19 - he was Old but still powerful, he had simply lost his mind and control over his bowels. Even so it took 3 orderlies to hold him down to give him the shot. But he was 12.

Amy was just 8 years old, still spry as a puppy. And to add impact to injury, we KNEW she was sick, that she was going to die that day from blood loss, but she was look at mom as if she was fine, as if they could just go home and everything would be normal.

So here's to you Bear *raises a mug* You were a Wonderful, Loyal friend, and you will be Missed.

The Rope & Party

Thats the film version of the show I went to last night. The play is quite a bit different, but the same general plot. 2 Friends kill a 3rd friend for the sake of the pure, motiveless, emotionless, perfect crime. One lead is dominant, the other more submissive. They strangle their friend with a rope and stuff his corpse into a chest, then they plan to take his body with them to Grad School to dispose of it - but first they hold a party. They invite their friend's father & aunt, a couple inferior minded friends, and a respected poet/former teacher. They serve dinner on the chest, and of course the whole thing unravels.

I can remember watching the movie at my friend's house last year - probably summer time, or around the time I got home, and his strong decision that this was the next play that he'd put on at the school. So that's what it was.

I can't claim to have seen the whole final product, despite going opening and closing night my body failed me before the final act. Thursday night I came home. Last night I knew there was to be a cast party, so I decided to stick it out and slipped back stage at intermission to find a more comfortable seat. I can't tell you how many shows I have been a part of in that theater, actually to be frank, I probably could if I thought hard enough - I was part of the first show ever held in the blackbox.

This show I only had bits and pieces to do with, I supplied a couple props, donated an electrical plate to the set, and hung out a couple Saturdays on Stage Crew to offer advice when and where needed.

Realistically I had little right to be at the cast party, except that it was held by the director who is one of my best friends, in his house - which I have keys to, and was also attended by a few other close friends, all grads of the same school, all former techies themselves. Actually every guy in the apartment last night was either a SJ student or SJ grad, every single one. Kind of cool. Hell one of the mentioned friends is renting the 1st floor apartment from my friend who owns the two family.

So anyways, I had a great time at the party. Just laughing and talking in my usual way, my usual ease. I was quite pleased to have a chance to interact with one of the cast members in particular, who had asked after my health back stage - and not trusted me for one second as I told him "I'm fine" as I stood there swaying, hahaha, which is fine, I'd not have trusted me either - I know doubt looked like hell and was having trouble hiding the pain, the tell tale sign was one of my hands gripping my ribs. But I'm a tough guy so I sucked it up and helped get the chest we used into the trunk of the Olds so I could return it to my friend's dining room.

The food at the party was excellent, as was the company as I said, and it's the first time I've had a real chance to interact with that dude, who I've been talking to online for ages now. So that was pretty special. Haha he's too young to pursue, but he's cute, has a kick ass personality, and is smart. He'll make someone very happy someday.

At any rate as the night wore on the high schoolers cleared out, and the grads remained. Out came cognac, champaign, and such for the drinkers, and cigars, home rolled cigs, and my pipe - for the smokers. We sat in his living room in high back chairs, and on a 20's couch, feeling like lords of all creation, just chatting about this and that, the old days, the current days, exchanging stories and jokes and laughing until the wee small hours of the morning.


It's funny sometimes thinking back... here I am at 19?

probably having just said something amazingly inappropriate about how Ashlie, the girl getting ready to hit me, was dressed. Its probably not hard to figure out the comment. The fellow behind me in the picture was there last night until not long before I left. That was taken at one of those cast parties, probably for Hamlet... orrrr ummmm Becket! I think it was probably Becket!

At any rate, its one of a dozen or so cast parties held in that apartment, some faces change, some remain the same. Thats how it goes.

Anyways, I haven't slept yet, and there is a vicious rumor that I am being dragged coherent or not to a SuperBowl party tonight at 6, incidentally in the apartment below the one I was in last night, with the same faces, as well as a few more old friends - without a doubt all 3 of us guys in the picture I posted will be there.

Saint Jude and Fighting Suicide.

The Saint Jude pendant is my next tattoo. I can't wear a pendant any longer, nor a cross, because the metal against my skin causes such pain that I can't sleep. One of the ironies of having Fibro I suppose. Haha my faith in God makes no sense, I have been hurt so many times, including in a church, and by a member of the clergy. You would think... and then there are the friends that I have lost. I'm too much of a thinker for religion. And yet I believe, I really do, oh my God to I believe, and I can't shake it.

Saint Jude is the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. My original Pendant was given to me by my friend Sam, who killed himself late night on Feb 3 2006. He died in my arms. He has been weighing on my mind these last couple of weeks. His death changed me. I left the pendant he gave me in PA on my trip to Phoenix, it was a mistake, I took it off for some reason and rode off without it. I can only hope it found someone who needed it as much as I did.

The tattoo is something that I can't take off, can't loose. I don't think I will ever move forward. Saint Jude fits me. It has been 11 years since I left them, and I still can't shake the things that I have done, the things that I have seen. It haunts me, it haunts me like a sickness.



I am having a rough night. Its the things in our lives that shape us. If that is really true, and I think it is.. haha I am so fucked. I am so tired of this fight.

I can remember the days, the days when I used to get my father's gun out and load it, and it would just sit on the table next to me. Sometimes I would hold it in my hand and press it against my forehead and just pray. Pray for a way out of this.

I tried it once when I was 15. I did everything right. I got out his gun, I loaded it. I wrote my parents a 3 page letter and put it on my stack of notebooks. I sat in my room, and I wrapped my head in a towel so that they wouldn't have as much to clean up. I put this song on loop

And then I closed my eyes, I put the barrel of the gun into my mouth. It was a .38 Colt, my grandfather's old Service revolver. One bullet that I had been carrying around with me. I pulled the trigger. Man I tell you time slows down, it all but stops. I won't say your life flashes, but oh my God the sense of Regret. And the gun it didn't go off. And I just sat there and sobbed. I just Sobbed for I don't know how long, it felt like an eternity.

I went back to that gun again and again until I was 18. I never went that far again, but I would load it - with a different bullet - and I would just hold it to my temple. Saint Jude. It was the way out. It was the final solution.

When my father found out I was suicidal, when he found out how close I'd come he did two things. He gave the gun away, and he made me give him my Word that I would not take my life.

I have kept my promise. I almost lost it in Phoenix when I had a gun and bullets for a while. I almost lost it. I had to get rid of the gun. I CANT have access to a gun, its too much temptation. I can't fight that for very long. It is a tool that will get me out of here. A way to end the pain, and you cannot imagine the pain.

SO I gave my word. And then Sam killed himself. Most of the kids I worked with when I was younger are dead. Dad is dead. The people who understood me the most. Who KNEW what I have experienced are all dead and gone.

So what can I do? I won't break my word. No matter how much it HURTS. I used to joke that if I ever killed myself there would be a group of angry family members up in heaven waiting to beat me up. And now my dads up there. MY DAD IS DEAD. I want to SCREAM.


But I have people who love me down here. My mother, my family. Brent is like a brother to me. There are the people I love, and who love me. I can deal with this. I can keep fighting this. This war of attrition. Its like trench warfare. Its like WWI is going on in my skull and at night all the demons come out.

If I am anything. If I am anything at all. I am proof of how much the human mind can take, and keep going. That will be my legacy. How much more is there?

Will I live to be 30 or will I live to be 100?

Sometimes I WISH that people could See it on my face. That I looked as old as I feel. But then I'd look like Brother Plunket. It's too soon for that. I'm not ready to call it a day yet. I am a fighter.

My Hymn

Each of us has some song that really speaks to us. I must have dozens. They range from Paul Simon songs to Tool.

The Song that I found that hits me the hardest, is Woodstock written by Joni Mitchell - and beyond that its the version done by Richard Thompson. He sang this at a JM tribute concert. The Stone Temple Pilots were supposed to come and play, and they missed the show for what ever reason. So they had this Slot to fill, and Richard Thompson just went out on stage and played Woodstock. He sang it so well that JM sat there with her eyes closed gently swaying.

I can listen t this song happy, sad, tired, awake, any mood and it just hits me straight to the soul.

Hum

I just got an email from one of my best friends that brought tears to my eyes. It was a reply to one I'd sent him. It's great having friends like that. Someone I can ALWAYS write to when times are tough - someone who will Always read what I write.

Another close friend of mine is thinking about packing up shop and just heading west. He won't do it till Summer time, and I can't really blame him if he does - its something I have often dreamed about if my health were better - just moving around the country like a hermit - working in gas stations and existing. So many people say... Why the hell would you do that? But its an honest way to live. I think he's thinking more of working at camps and such.


In other news its time to start pulling the XS400 together (sick of these posts yet?)

I have 3 "Splurge" parts for it, one I actually need, and then the other two are just, well honest to god modifications for the soul purpose of reshaping the machine.

The first as I've said is a MAC exhaust.

The current exhaust is rusting through in certain places and pretty banged up. Almost impossibly so in places, and I fear is loosing a baffle. So the Mac is a 2:1 style and will just work.


The next splurge is a cafe Seat. It also has some minor need. The original seat is pretty worn out and the seat cloth is currently made out of Gorilla tape.

This Cafe Seat is quality made at a reasonable price - what some companies charge for just the seat pan. It has a 2" Gel/Foam pad that is rumored to be comfortable even on longer rides. The cover is removable - as in the snaps really are functioning snaps. The Vinyl cover is the same as they use on boats so its good for the weather. All in all very pleasing.

^ Minor adjustments will have to be made to the rear of the bike for this style of seat. Meaning I will have to exchange out the rear fender for something else - luckily I have a solid stock of spare fenders I think what I'll do is cut down a spare front fender (in half) and use it under the tail as a rear fender - to which I can attach a stop light.


The last splurge is really just a splurge.

The current tank is ugly, a bit beat up, and rusting in places - but all things considered it's usable. This tank is a bit bigger, won't rust - it comes in black, and if I do paint it, I will probably paint it black, with white pin stripes to match the black in the picture, and then Yamaha decals instead of Norton.



For actual parts that I need to make the bike go Vroom - I need:
Rear Brake Shoes $20
Drive Chain parts $40
2 Gaskets $30
10 small metric bolts $12
1 Turnsignal $10
1 Oil filter bolt $9
1 Oil Filter $3
3 Quarts of Oil $15
1 Battery $46
1 Set of front brake Pads $20
Handlebars $15
2 Mirrors $20
2 new Grips $8
Total (ish) $250

And I'm done.

Physical complaints and Apt ideas.

I try not to complain. I really do. But man I am sick of this. I am laying here, back propped up against the headboard with pillows to dull the pain, my body is sensitive to the touch, there isn't an inch of me that doesn't hurt - a lot of it is pure agony, I'm shifting my legs about trying to dull the pain with no avail, my arms are growing tired even as I type I can feel the muscles in my lower arms aching with the effort. My eyes feel like they are bleeding, and I have a throbbing headache in my right temple, and there is a pain in my right neck that is piercing. My eyes feel like they are bleeding.

Three more pills. Side effects? Tired. Is sleep possible? No. Not like this.

What did I do in my last life to earn this one?

They say Self Pity does you no good. They are right. They also say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. I think They are full of shit. Totally full of shit. It's enough to drive a man insane.


I have to go to the vet and pick up meds for the dog today. That should be fun. At least its warm out today. After the last week when it was around single digits, 30 feels like summer time. Still they say that the cold lays waste to the body when you have this, sooooo I am really looking forward to March.

I'm not liking this. Not at all.


Different topic. New House.

Mom thought that perhaps the idea of a 2 family might be a bad one. It could end up (more than likely) raising the cost of heating in the winter time more than we pay now, possibly doubling it, for both of us. Then finding a 2 family like the type we want that isn't beat to shit - in the price range that we want. Now she's been talking about "In Law Apartments" which concern me, not sure why, maybe its just the name and the fact that I've never seen one?

Yesterday she suggested that we could build a garage type apartment or something, so I went hunting about briefly and have decided that I quite like the idea.

I found this, which is pretty general, but suits me to the T (almost)



For one as long as the house has a driveway and a backyard we could put one of these anywhere. So mom doesn't need to make any compromises based on me, with what ever house she wants to live in. My friend Jon offered to build the thing, which would cut costs slightly as well as allow for certain changes. We'd need to either put in a spiral staircase or find some way (invade shop space) of putting that outside stairway inside. We could insulate the hell out of it. Make that "shop" space a bit bigger, or simply use posts instead of a wall so that bikes could be moved into it and such.

I could live in an apartment like this for the rest of my life. The garage would have to be mine, but sure.

Anyways, thats it.

EDIT:
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