My father’s death was one of the best things that happened to me.

Three is a magic number

1990s Plymouth Caravan

40 arrests across 3 counties for violent crime accusations.

Dhalgren?

Usenet?

Me too.

I was at this concert:

https://youtu.be/WY2p1gSOk3c?feature=shared

Info that allows me to break through any of the “brick walls” in my genealogy research.

I was a staff studio photographer doing jewelery work in the late 1980s. In NYC. If you are old enough to remember the Service Merchandise jewelery section, that was me. Lots of other upscale catalogs too. “Successful” in the business.

There were hundreds of people willing to do my job for free. Many were talented. So the pay was minimal. Tried other careers, landed in computer work in the early 90s. Got lucky with the rising tide. Rode it until now.

DO NOT REGRET. Photography is a lousy business. Now I own a house in the suburbs. Wife, kid, dog, car, 401k. Bills are on autopay.

My father always used to say:

“Last thing I remember, I was 18 years old, standing on a streetcorner with my friends. This morning I woke up with a wife, 3 kids and a mortgage.”

…drilled over 4,000ft into the earth’s mantle…

No, they didn’t.

You missed “become poor” and “have his family turn on him”.

I only recently learned of this:

https://youtu.be/olFmklCCccE?feature=shared

Time is the coin of your Life.

It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent.

Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.

And when you spend it, spend it wisely so that you get the most for your expenditure.

~Carl Sandburg

Thank you for seeing me. Some days, the worst is the feeling that all of the struggle is not only insignificant in the end, but also invisible. I think of all of the rest that are in situations like me and that I’ll never know them.

Most of those are due to COVID. Not that he didn’t make it all worse…

I’m doing the exact same.

Rough patch.

My wife is going through chemo for colon cancer. Prognosis looks good. But the treatment is hell. Halfway through next week.

Her aunt lives with us. She has Parkinsons. Starting to really slide. Needs bathroom help every 2 hours - 24x7x365. No one sleeps much here. She’ll need to go into assisted living real soon now. Will she live longer than her money? Maybe.

My kid is 14. Good kid. Smart. Well-intentioned. But 14 is hard. And he’s a total slacker.

My mom just had gallbladder surgery at 80. She’s recovering well. But lives on her own and needs extra attention. We all worry she will need to go into assisted living, too. But she’s mostly broke. Not good.

The place I work was bought out a few months ago. My job is likely safe through the end of the year. But after that… well, we all know how it usually goes. At least my wife’s chemo will be covered until then.

I’m over 60 and overweight with HBP. No heart attack… yet. But that can’t be too far off.

So… plenty of pressure all around. But I manage to keep to the Stoics’ philosophy and accept the world as it is. Be patient and kind and let things happen as they happen. I keep trying to loose weight.

Either we get through this, or we don’t. But I can easily accept that we all did our best.

I have an old-school D&D campaign planned out. 1st-level, rural town. Like a reverse scooby-doo - small trivial problems like lost livestock resolve to hint at deeper mystical evil. As they level up they’ll find dark cults and demonic influences. The peaceful rustic countryside is far from what it seems.

But the players never get it together enough to set up a good date. The last campaign was fun, and they all said they wanted more. So I just keep writing more NPCs and extending the setting.