Trim the tree

This year we purchased a real tree on which we hung a massive number of ornaments that we have accumulated over the years.  It is a family tradition for the D, B, J and me to decorate the tree together.  However, I have never experienced a year where I was lucky enough experience a happy mood concurrent with our adornment festivities.  This year was no different but at least I was not in a bad mood.  I have to wonder if I did not experience some event in my childhood that causes me to struggle with my mood during the holiday season.  I seem to have an especially difficult time decorating the tree and I can't think of any good reason why.

I have been writing bits and pieces of my screenplay.  Coincidentally, D and I had breakfast Friday at the exact restaurant I was thinking of when I imagined meeting the fictional object of my desire.  I actually looked into the kitchen a few times to see if there might be a woman  that resembled my character.  

The next Spielberg?

I have this new morning routine that I think I am going to like.  I get up at 5:00, take J to work, then go to the office for 6:00.  I work a couple of hours before heading out for coffee.  I like getting to the coffee shop a little later as I am more likely to run into people that I know.  Plus, the first few hours at work are generally very productive and I can watch a movie while I work.

Lately I have been thinking more seriously about writing a short screen play.  The quality of my writing is very poor, but that doesn't really matter when your writing character dialogue.  I am very attracted to dark, gritty, off-beat movies with unexpected endings. This morning I watched "The Good Heart" on Netflix and I was completely blown away.  This was one of the best movies I have ever seen.

I have been considering writing a movie about a middle-aged, reasonably successful man, with a tragic past, that works his way through some very difficult experiences and ultimately learns how to elicit a modicum of satisfaction from life.  Armed with a new-found confidence, he finds himself exploring many new things including relationships with woman other then his wife.  He ultimately turns his life upside down, giving up everything that is important to him, believing he has found his soul mate.  His new found soul mate is a strong-willed, man-hating, unpredictable lesbian in her late twenties, also with a tragic past, covered in tattoos and piercings with a biting sarcasm and nasty outlook on life.  She slings hash at a popular breakfast spot and plots to sleep with the man to prove to her girlfriend that she is a true lesbian (it's complicated).  When the man declines her invitation for sex, (attempting to remain faithful) but offers an intimate, but platonic friendship, she agrees, hoping that she will ultimately prove her true sexual orientation to her female partner.  They agree that they will be 100% honest with each other about EVERYTHING, hold nothing back, no white lies: "Yes, you look fat in that dress" kind of honesty.  What follows is a roller-coaster of a relationship that ultimately results in a passion-filled, tumultuous, albeit confused sexual encounter (think "Unfaithful") in the restaurant kitchen that is interrupted by her soon-to-be ex-partner. Following, he leaves his wife, she leaves her partner and they both move to a seedy loft in the city where they attempt to make a life together. I won't tell you the ending, but remember that I don't like the audience leaving happy.  Fuck them...  It is my movie, not theirs...

Responsibility

This past weekend was a short one as I worked Saturday.  Sunday, J and I worked on removing an engine from a donor Trans Am that is destined for my Jeep.  We got along well and  it was a productive day.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the situation between my sister and our father.  My sisters mental health is not improving and I don't expect it will unless she can reconcile with her past.  I am considering embarking on a quest that will ultimately result in her meeting with our father to confront him for the purpose of resolving her trauma.  I am personally struggling with my relationship with my father because I hold him responsible for my sisters condition.  I believe that he committed a horrible deed  for which  he has never accepted the responsibility and or consequences.  Lately I have been somewhat obsessed with the question "What if he didn't do what he has been accused of"?  I think that it is time that I talk with him directly, without the cloak of vagueness.  But then I will have to deal with the consequences of his response.  What if he admits it?  What then is my responsibility?  It would appear that avoiding the entire issue is the easier path; however, as I have stated  previously, with wisdom comes responsibility.  I know the right thing to do...  I am just afraid of the consequences.

He's back

Wednesday night, J came home and had supper with D and I.  We talked through the events on Saturday and J said that his outburst was a result of a mental breakdown.  I told him that I appreciated his apology, we hugged and then he went downstairs to his room.  The next morning I took him to work and we seem to be back into our routine.

 

Shaken faith?

This past weekend stands in stark contrast to my recently renewed faith.  Saturday morning, I very nearly had a physical altercation with J, and I spent the rest of the weekend in Clickerville as a result.  "J, why were you using the tool bag that I keep in my truck?" I  asked him as he sat down to breakfast.  "Sorry Dad, I needed a socket" he replied without looking up.  "But I have asked you to not to use the tools in that bag" I said.  "Whatever Dad" he replied in a tone that indicated that he could not care less.  "What the hell" I said my voice starting to rise in pitch.  "Am I not allowed to have stuff that I can call my own that you won't leave laying all over the place?".  I could feel my temper rising and and I took a deep breath to try and regain my composure.  It was no longer about the tools.  It was about J's disdain for issues that were important to me.  D was attempting to calm the situation and she was clearly becoming very anxious.  I walked out of the room to try and calm down.  I walked back in and with a controlled tone said "You know Josh, it would be nice if you could at least acknowledge..."  "Why are you always in such a pissy mood" he shouted back before I could finish.  "What are you talking about" I yelled back.  "Can't I say anything when you don't follow the house rules" I continued.  I could feel myself losing control largely because I felt like I wasn't able to tell him how I felt about him messing with my personal property.  He had open access to all my other tools, most of which he would leave scattered all over the garage and yard.  Suddenly he jumped up from his chair and coming towards me yelled "You wanna go at it?"  "Fuck you" I screamed.  "Let's go" and I quickly stepped in front of him prepared to knock him senseless.  D began to cry and plead for us to stop and that caused me to pause for a moment and I just stood there.  "Get out" I said.  "Get the fuck out of my house".  My heart was racing and my fists were clenched.  J stepped back and turned to go downstairs screaming at me as he went.

It is three days later and he has not come back yet, but I know he will.  I am not sure how I am going to deal with this.  I am tired of giving to him and getting only shit in return.  I will likely let him stay, but our relationship is seriously damaged.  I can handle everything except the physical threatening.  In some ways I am less concerned with his provocation then my response and what I might have done.  The last time I had physical altercation with him, it was a result of my decision to put him to the floor and remind him who the alpha male was.  At that point, he was out of control, lying, stealing and extremely defiant.  My only choices were to regain control of him or let the State deal with him.  I chose the former which was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made, as the son of physically abusive parents.  This time was different though...  This time my response would have been the result of anger, not a well thought out, purposeful strategy to regain control of my son.  I don't feel real good about myself right now.

OMG! Life is good?

Yesterday was a good day.  I think I was actually happy!  Imagine that...  I have been stressed out for the past few days preparing for an important presentation.  Yesterday I bought lunch for twenty or so of my client's employees and demonstrated a new document management system I have been building for them.  The presentation went very well and I was rewarded with a tremendous sense of relief!

Following the meeting, I jumped in my car and drove over to B's college to pick him up for an appointment with his doctor.  We were able to spend the entire afternoon together and we really enjoyed each others company.  I was actually laughing and joking with him and when I dropped him off, he gave me a great hug and thanked me for everything.   

I have been praying a lot lately.  I mostly pray for a good mood, increased motivation, better discipline and for others in need.  Yesterday I felt like I was able to actually talk with God.  Maybe I am just a lunatic lost in Darwin's world, but it felt really, really good.  Like everyone else, I struggle with the overwhelming evidence that there is no God, but I know that since I started praying, my life has gotten much better.  Perhaps it is a delusional placebo affect; but even if it is, I will take it.  The true challenge to my faith will come when I face the inevitable crisis and or tragedy that will cause me to shout "How can a just God allow me to suffer like this?".  Perhaps I will even gnash my teeth...

Relief

I heard back from the IRS today and it appears that I will be able to pay my back taxes over a period of five years.  I am relieved that I will finally put this behind me as this issue has been an overarching source of anxiety for too many years.  Now I have to focus on building my business so I can pay off this debt and start saving for retirement.

Brotherly love

"I am sorry that I have not been a better brother.  I feel your desire to be closer, and I have not given our relationship the importance it deserves" I told my sister D Saturday night.  I was dropping her off at her house after we went to visit our sister R who is recovering from a shattered ankle at a rehab hospital.  She looked at me for a moment then turned away saying "It is ok D, we are all busy.  I thought you were mad at me over the situation with S (our brother)"  she continued.  "No" I replied.  "I don't know all the details and you were not the one that had him sent to state prison (as a sixteen year old boy)".  My brother never recovered from that incarceration.  I can only imagine the horrors he had to endure.  "The reason why I have not been there for you is because whenever I was around family I became very anxious and depressed.  It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with my childhood and our fucked up family" I continued.  "But I will do better moving forward.  I will make our relationship a priority".  "Great" D replied.  I reached out and gave her a hug.  Goodnight R, I mean D" I said.  "Hey" she replied with a with a concerned look...  I too wondered why I had called her R.

I often cannot believe the degree of success I have achieved given that my life reads like "The Prince of Tides" screenplay.  With that success though, I feel this keen sense of responsibility that leads to a intense level of guilt.  Am I "earning" this?  I spend a lot of time helping others...  Are my motives pure or am I simply trying to relieve my guilt?  Does it really matter?  Is enough just to do good?  Is is necessary that my motives are pure?  One thing I know; I have changed the lives of many people and that can't be a bad thing.  And, it helps me feel good about myself.  That  is definitely not a bad thing.

Death and taxes

The tax man paid us a visit recently.  I am actually a bit relieved, because now I am forced to tackle this issue head on and resolve it once and for all.  I am hopeful that we can negotiate a reasonable payment plan that will allow me to continue B's tuition payments.  I wish I had dealt with this earlier; hopefully I will learn from this experience and exercise more responsibility in the future.

Another season

It is a cold day in the town square this morning.  A  brisk wind is blowing out of the East, rustling the few remaining dull yellow leaves clinging tenaciously to the maple tree in front of the coffee shop.  The faded green patio chairs and tables, all arranged in neat rows on the sidewalk, sit unused as all the tourists have gone home and the regulars have moved inside where we sip our coffee while staring out the large pane glass windows, longing for the warm summer mornings of which we shall see no more.  A flock of Canadian geese flies overhead in a v formation heading South for warmer climates.  Winter is coming.  Time is running out to prepare for the onslaught of the biting wind and drifting snow.  Put away the garden house, tighten down the pool cover and put away the lawn chairs.  It is time to rummage through the attic and gather boots, hats, coats and mittens.