“It takes one to know one,” I have repeated.
When I was a kid the song ”Psycho Killer” came out by the Cars, and all my friends thought of me. More recently, when I lived on the Southside of Williamsburg, before it was conquered by hipsters, the landlord of my loft called me a “scary guy” and that I would not have any problems when I asked about when I would get my security deposit back.
The point I’m trying to make is that I use to be an angry and kinda dangerous guy, and perhaps because I was a performance artist for about a decade, combine with being a drama queen, I could scare and terrify people when I needed to.
As a teenager I learned unprocessed anger in my case led to depressions, so I adapted my behavior and became somewhat volatile and explosive. To call me a “hot-head” back then would be accurate.
Rage and anger are powerful weapons, but I channeled a lot of that energy into work and into my creativity.
So I reflect on all the suicides happening and the deaths of despair. I think of the mass shootings, the road rage, and all of the violence that is emerging, all the anxiety, and mental illness that is emerging and growing. The summery is that there are a lot of people suffering who are not doing so well that are unhappy.
The second suicide and most recent Metro North related death was of a 19 year old. How tragic, but then again I understand. I’m so glad that I outgrew my anger, but I see it in the world all around me. I see people with mental health issues deteriorating, I see the discontent, I see the unhappiness, I see the apathy… I am not numb to it, but somehow I remain happy with a positive mental attitude.
In Navy SEAL survival training they teach you that a positive mental attitude is 95% of survival, and if you read Dale Carnegie’s book on Positive Thinking you learn that negative thinking often becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.
Just wanted to also let you know that a lot of crazy-bad stuff is happening all around me, so things are at times not so rosy, but I maintain a positive mental attitude to keep moving forward.
Our house effectively is a work zone that is noisy and dusty. Plaster was demo’ed and a 15 yard dumpster is nearly full in my driveway. The dining room, living room, hallway, and upstairs bathroom are not functional living spaces. Sadly our living conditions are kinda like when we lived in a 650 square foot apartment in Madhattan. We have about the same living space currently.
Meanwhile we are taking care of our grandson (“Maggie” gets dropped off at her daughter’s home about 15-20 minutes away) and Maggie’s work on the editing of her book is falling way behind. Of course I take up a lot of the slack, but Maggie is at the breaking point.
I’m reminded of the joke where a pessimist and an optimist argue. It gets to a point where the optimist gets the upper hand and the pessimist says, ”I’m going to take this hammer and smash your hand repeatedly. What is good about that?”
”It will be good when you stop,” replied the optimist.
So a few more days, and the work will wind down. The tile guy is grouting today, and after that he will be done. More sheet rock on the walls needs to be installed, then the ceiling in the hallway needs sheet rock.
Spackle, paint, and hanging fixtures…
Know that I will be doing the translucent staining of all the trim, and that the salvaged moldings from the dining room need to be stripped of paint (non lead).
My life is pretty much the joke with the hand smashing.
I’m not complaining, and I’m not really stressed or unhappy except for the “Woman-Factor.”
Cal