Tuesday, January 8, 2013


I have several things running through my mind, or maybe none. Today has been one of those days where I seem to have too much of something, or maybe nothing. Or if it’s something, it’s something that is so negligible in import as to be, well, negligible; minute. On the sub-atomic level. Actually, I haven’t been able to concentrate on one God-damned thing for more than 5 seconds all day. This is ADHD full out and rampant at its worst. This is about the time, the bipolar shift kicks in and I’m in that manic phase. It’s getting close to the one year anniversary of the Great, “Stay Up All of February & Have a Psychotic Break!” 

This year, I’m prepared. So, looking good with all my head meds and good vibes. This is also the same time after the psychotic break that I don’t remember along with the Bonus Mental Hospital Committal that my physical symptoms of “PD or non-PD, that is the question” (hear me, Tampa-USF-shrink-chuckleheads, hmmm?) began. They have trebled in severity since that time. The symptoms, not the chuckleheads. 

But, I’m doing great; I’m happy and I’m in a wonderful place. I have friends and I have a purpose in life. My purpose in life is to illuminate, rant, amuse and just be a general pain in the ass to whoever will be bothered to spend 5 minutes reading my blabberings. I stopped writing for a while, because, frankly, the tremors have gotten rough. Along with that, I have lots and lots of mental “fugue states” for want of a better term. I do have some dementia, too.

It makes writing a supreme pain in the ass and I was hating it. Just hating writing anything. It became this monumental struggle. What should take me 45 minutes, was taking me a day and a half. Without any type of diagnosis or treatment for neuro-muscular disorder, I can barely function at 1/10 speed. So, I pretty much stopped writing and barely visited my buddies online. I hate running around online and presenting all of this, so I just kind of drop off of the face of the earth, which isn’t right, either. But, there it is.

I’ve adopted a “regimen” of sleeping 10 or as much as 12 hours a day, which has helped me tremendously. I’ve been eating as well as I possibly can. My weight is holding at 100 lbs. I take all of my vitamins and meds. My primary doctor and my psychiatrist have been working with me and I am enrolled in a couple of these programs where the drug companies pay for the most expensive drugs. In March, I will be covered under Medicare and *fingers crossed* going to the Center of Excellence study at USF where they are funding Parkinson’s Disease studies.

So, enough of my bullshit. My friend, Sundae Rye (visit his website at: http://sundaeryestudio.com/ and follow him on Twitter @SundaeRyeand I are "pen pals" (email pals?) Sundae is one of the most gifted and out there people I’ve had the great good fortune to run across. He’s a superb writer, illustrator and designer. He's funny as hell, and spurs me to new heights of… I don’t know, lunacy? My latest is “blahbernation.” Instead of “hibernation.” So, Sundae thought that was pretty cool. He used it in such a way though, like, “The United States of Blahbernation.” So, I’m here to say now, if that shit takes off? Sundae Rye gets first dibs on it. It’s his copyright. Do check him out; his books are awesome and wonderfully skewed, as is his artwork.  

I wonder what the flag to that country would look like? The national anthem would be: eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, sung in the key of E#. No words, just eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Imagine the national bird. A parakeet? Nah. A wren. Yeah, we could have fun with this.

"What? Me, blah?" or, Alfred E. Blah

That’s really about it; although I did have another one of my crazy, fun trips to my grocery store, yesterday. I must correct an omission. When I wrote the post for Thanksgiving about the pink pumpkins, I mentioned two of the men who work at the store in produce. One gentleman is named Casey and I named him. The other gentleman, who is also a very fine man is named Jim, and I omitted his name, not out of negligence, but because I didn’t know his name. For that I am sorry. I told him about that post and he read it and we finally introduced ourselves to one another. So, Jim! Thank you! You valiantly wrangled those pink pumpkins!


I love that store and the people who work there are awesome. Jim in produce is one of the more awesome among the group. I’ve been going to that market since I was first homeless and they’ve always been terrific. I’m there 3 times a week and it’s always fun to visit. It takes me 6 hours to shop.

I’m still not too sure about what goes on in the spice aisle though. The cake and brownie mixes are also in that aisle, across from the spices, and every time I go to get some yellow cake or brownie mix, there is covert activity. This time, it was a guy whispering into a cell phone. When he saw me coming, he hung up quickly and grinned sheepishly. He sort of hovered for a minute and then said, “Where’s the complete spice?” All Spice? I asked him, trying to be helpful. Nope, he insisted there was a “complete” spice. He never did find it and left, muttering about going to Publix. Okay, guy. I do hope he found what he needed. Not too freaky, but for the fact that his twin came by, not 2 seconds later, and we had to re-enact "Ground Hog Day." I got to do the Bill Murray part. Geeze o pete. Once again, I grabbed my brownies and skipped on out of there!

So, Row 80 starts up again on the 9th of January. I’m glad to be back at it, but I need to try and figure out what my real goals are and what I am really trying to do. I’m 57, have had 2 different careers and am not really sure what I want to do next. I don’t want to be like my father, who found himself on disability at the age of 48. I think that was mostly by his choice. He did try to go back to work after what was a crippling heart attack, but he didn’t last long in the work-a-day world. He died 11 years later, after living pretty much the way he had always lived; heedless and unaware of what his own lifestyle and incapacitation would do to those around him who loved him.

As an only child, I was crushed when he died in his sleep, unexpectedly. I was 31. But, in truth, he outlived my prediction. I had last seen him at his mother’s funeral in 1985 and I really thought he would not live out the year. He out-lasted my prediction by 1 and ½ years. When he was first out on disability, he had mentioned something about law school, which he could easily have done, as smart as he was. It would have taken him 4 years. I have been on disability for almost 2 years. I take care of myself, but really, none of us knows when our time will come. I think I just answered my own question.
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