New Years Supernova

Well, Happy soon to be 2025. 

It is only a calendar invented by humans. I mean, yes, it takes about 365 and a quarter days for the earth to complete one orbit of the sun. But the year could begin on any one of those days. You know? If I invented the calendar, I would start the year on the first day of spring rather than in bleak winter. But, hey, that's just me. My grandmother, wise woman, that she was in so many ways, had deep superstitions about it being bad luck to do certain household chores on New Years Day. And I will make sure there will be a big pot of black eyed peas and a plate full of spoon bread on the dinner table. They say filling up on them brings wealth and good fortune. I know It's only an arbitrary day we humans long ago chose. But one may find tradition gains so much more meaning when so many are missing. I guess it's one way that I try to honor them. Welcome to the future, science damn it. I just had a heavy thought: 1985 was kind of a banner year of my childhood. Many happy memories of family and good friends. Now it seems I remember in school studying the long ago (ancient to me) history of the second world war, which was 40 years ago back then, black and white photographs from an ancient past. Now, it seems 1985 itself is soon to be 40 years ago. Time gets a bit peculiar as we get older, I guess. Hell, we're a decade past the "future" from Back To The Future II, and I've still not seen Jaws 19! Forget flying cars, Where the heck is Café 80's? Where it is always morning in America, even in the after-n-n-n-noon? I sometimes think that Doc should bump those time circuits up from '15 to '25, pick me up and take me back home. Of course, I'd find myself in a similar situation as the man in the Twilight Zone episode, "Walking Distance." His father told him that it might be time to look ahead, rather than looking behind. I suppose that to be good fatherly advice. Maybe I should try that myself. Still, it's not so easy sometimes. Like in a certain song about time marching on, stars are born and stars burn out. Sometimes into neutron stars or dismal black holes. Though sometimes, we get nebulae of beautiful swirling colors that can be seen for eons and a bit of stardust of literal gold. See, from my understanding, elements heavier than iron took a major cosmic catastrophe to form. If I had the fortune of having married someone who had the tendency to stay and not leave, I would still have a band on my finger that some long ago star had to give up the ghost for. Sadly, it is no longer there and hasn't been for sixteen years. Though it took a long time for the indention where it used to be to go away. Whoa. That's too heavy an element to start with. Let's start with the light stuff. Do you know how in a super massive star that's been around enough to start fusing the heavier elements, the heavy stuff sinks to the core while the lite elements are farther out? This is how I'm going to arrange my thoughts here today. Lite stuff at the top, heavy stuff at the bottom. It's a concept I may use only this time. Or I may adopt it more. Consider this an experiment for science. Great Scott, Marty, she blinded me with science! Okay, okay, lite stuff. I once had someone tell me I listen to "Old people music." Hey, it's not my fault those young whipper snappers can't come up with anything better. Now let me blast my real tunes, Sonny, and get off my lawn. As Grandpa Simpson told Homer, "It'll happen to you!" Remember that newer isn't always better. Just as out of date as my music are my pop culture references. For example, I won't mention by name the Colossal Belch Champion of a certain workplace. I could call him Oger, but who here has seen "Revenge Of The Nerds"? Either way, one has to wonder if that poor dude might need to see a doctor about his inner workings. Unhelpful Tip: Instead of following up that loud belch with "Excuse me", Give them that Gowron Leader Of The Klingon High Council stare and snarl in your most gravelly voice, "This is how a Klingon lures a mate." Now, if you get in trouble, don't blame me. A true warrior must must own up to his actions and face the resulting battles alone. Q'plah! May you belch with honor. 

Well, I got the black eyed peas and the fixings for spoon bread (Dad's recipe). I'm going to have that traditional New Year's dinner, just as if we were all still here. In the fridge are the first brewskis I've bought since before my birthday, last September. On the back porch is a considerable pile of burnable stuff for that New Year's bonfire for a personal tradition of mine. Cold night, cold beer, hot fire, and good tunes. That is, if I can between now and then, get over this damn underwater feeling. I guess I should apologize if I seem to be a grouchy grouch. Getting sick tends to piss me off. I can't help but gripe a bit, so please forgive and indulge me just this once. I haven't slept properly these past couple of nights because it's hard to sleep when you can't breathe worth a shit. Plus, I work for a place that penalizes your holiday pay if you call in the day before or the day after. Christmas was ruined because my parents and my sister are gone. New Year's Eve may be ruined because I'm really too sick to celebrate it. Maybe an evening nap will help. Oh, this freaking body of this biological organism was certainly so perfectly, so grandly designed. That is if by a god with a bit of a sadistic side. Otherwise, it's random chance evolution that's the real demon here. Either way, it sucks not being able to breathe normally. Feeling like my skull is about to dramatically come apart, like in some gross zombie movie, is an extra added bonus. Doesn't life suck enough without this crap? Shouldn't misery have a maximum quota or something? On top of being under the weather, I also find myself once again among the fortunate that have to work today. I really needed to spend today in bed. Still living paycheck to paycheck, needing the money as I do, it's not an entirely bad thing. I need every dime I can scratch out. Those bills don't stop, you know. Besides, this sure beats sitting home, staring at the walls, and thinking of the missing. (Though if I could only sleep!) Otherwise, if I must live with these holiday blues, I might as well be getting paid. Though I spent this past weekend in bed sick, and getting myself out of bed this morning did prove to be an even greater challenge than normal. Beyond feeling under the weather physically, I've just been down and glum the entire holiday season. It is not depression but indifference that scares me in my more lucid moments, this totally not caring whether I wake up or not. I am just tired of all flavors of pain, physical, emotional, and mental. They say tomorrow is always another day. It could always be a better day. This I know. I can't be too old or too late for absolutely everything. Only.... Some things, I guess. Still, those some, those few aren't meaningless and are of a sum far greater than simply nothing. It's getting just a bit lonely around here. I have learned to live with and to live without. That extra straw on this old camel's back is the loss of so many who once loved me unconditionally. This whole season is supposed to be about family, and that's what makes it tough. That there are those no longer here because they can't be, is hard enough. They say life is short. 2022 and 2024 had certainly reinforced that truth with me. I must say I was very disappointed last week. Every Christmas should be important. You only get so many. What would eclipse that importance is beyond me. I guess I'm starting to sound like my parents, aren't I? Maybe that's because after all these years, I finally get it, and I finally understand, despite the slow learner I may have been at times. All I know is that even in my days of being young and dumb, or my days of being worn down by life in later times, I knew it was only right for me to at least spend some of Christmas day with my parents, the very people who gave me life, sustained it for years, took care of me, were always there for me, never left me, thought about me, worried about me, even in the final days of their life. I can't go see them anymore. I can never again sit at their table, but what's your excuse? I may not be much, but I'm still here. I would like to think that maybe I mean something. I treasure my friends, but no buddy, no pal, should be more important on Christmas day. I'm more than a money machine, and even if I were, I should at least be worthy of precious time. There. Okay. This particular rant is over. Clean cup? Move down? Tonight, I am going to review and reflect like I always do. Highs and lows, man, highs, and lows. It is hard to believe those carefree days of 1985 that I remember so well are soon to be 40 years ago. It was one of my best summers, good friends, and wonderful times. Where did it all go? It is also 16 years ago on this very day that I was abandoned, disposed of, forsaken, left in a store parking lot by the ex... I also remember being rescued by my Dad that night. He did not forsake me, and neither did my mother nor my sisters. Looking back, I know they wished they could have taken away the pain, but what was important was that they were there for me, and I didn't have to cry alone. I just wish I still had them here today. I only thought I was alone back then. I wasn't. They were there. The first big deal is that I miss them so much. The second big deal is that I feel more on my own than I have ever before in my life. It's kind of scary to tell you the truth. I guess in the years ahead, in this second quarter of this 21st century, I guess we'll find out whether I am strong enough. They had faith in me. Maybe I should, too. It is just so difficult to see right now. If I could face everything with a clear head, then maybe I would do okay. But that's not so easy. I had so many things to get in order these past few days, but then I just had to come down with the freaking crud. It's hard to think past this undersea feeling. All I feel like doing is to go back home and crawling into my bed. Sometimes, I think it's me versus all of creation. (or all of random chance). I make all this effort to overcome, just to be knocked back on my ass. And it only takes a little while of losing to be tired of the fight. Can't I actually rest in peace before they put me in the ground? Shouldn't I have already done my time? When, when, when will I ever get a real chance to live in peace, to not have to fight tooth and nail for each day? Have I not at least earned something from these years of struggle? Too much of this insanity is a game for the young, and I'm old, much too old. In plain English, I am so sick of this shit. Leave me be, just leave me be. Whoa again... That's too heavy, even for this far down the page, even for me. Sorry about that, folks. I think this crud has put me in a very crappy mood. I'm just ill about being ill. How about we try again? Let us clean cup move down and reboot for a subject change. Wishing everyone a very merry unbirthday. I think my attitude could improve greatly if only I didn't feel so damn lousy. I am so looking forward to my bed. Society has a lot of good points. Law and order, less anarchy. But this barely making it and can't take a day off when I really need to, kinda sucks. It might not make life quite as miserable as would having to fight Lord Humongous style marauders to survive. But this having to keep going when I clearly need to rest, recover, and heal, sure ain't no picnic either. I am not a robot, no matter how much I sometimes wish I were. I am a human being with human needs that are simply not being met. A better society would allow for in times like these a few days' rest to come back strong. One should not have to be filthy freaking rich to have their basic needs met: Food, shelter, transportation, health care, mental and physical, and the necessary recovery time, should all be covered by a 40 hour work week, no matter the job. There is no reason why anybody who works full time should be going without these needs. These are not luxuries. They should be in reach for everyone out there giving their all.

 Anyway, It is so good to be home. I think I'll stay a while. Wishing all friends, Romans, robots, and strangers all the best in 2025.