[	Current Location	|	Columbus	]
[	Current Mood	|	pretty dern good	]
[	Current Music	|	silence	]

I fancy myself just a bit of an intellectual.  I’m not, really, given the definition of true intellectualism, but as a reader of books and self-proclaimed wordsmith, as a broad thinker, and as an open-minded soul with a thirst for knowledge, I have a desire to be (or at least appear) smarter than your average bear.

Which is why I’ve been befuddled of late at the appearance of three words which, while I’m sure I’ve come across them before, have stuck in my intellectual craw this time around and are fascinating to me, both in the actual existence of the words,  themselves, but in my general ignorance of them.

The first?  Dirigistes.  This was used in a column by the conservative columnist David Brooks describing how the Affordable Healthcare Act (“Obamacare” in the vernacular) is unworkable.  A dirigiste is a tightly-controlled, government-run economy—the opposite of which is a laissez-faire free-market economy with little or no governmental intrusion.  Brooks is arguing, not so subtly, that the adoption of this law is not only a bad idea on its face, but in our capitulation to it, ultimately changes the very nature of the American economy as we know it.  It’s the latest Rethuglican version of “Fire!” in the  crowded theater of contemporary American politics.

The second word that I noticed was catafalque: a raised and decorated platform used to display the coffin/body of a deceased head of state.  In this instance it was because of the unexpected passing of King George Tupou V of Tonga.  His catafalque was so large it required 150 of his loyal island subjects to carry the damn thing to his final resting place.  I’m slightly disappointed that part of the definition specifies that catafalques are only used for state funerals, or funerals wherein the deceased was a major political figure.  This more or less rules out one for me when I sashay my final runway.  But if the rules prove changeable, then I am going to begin seeking volunteers now: I’m going to need a LOT of footmen…

My last word I didn’t find in any contemporary reading, per se.  After finding the previous two others, I went looking for obscure words on the internet and found this one: Eudemonia, which is an Aristotelian word meaning, “a contented state of being happy and healthy and prosperous.”   What’s wrong with that?!  Considering its aspirational definition, I was surprised we don’t use it more often, as the American dream seems to me to be most concisely defined by the concept of eudemonia.  Or mine certainly is on a day-to-day basis.

I would like to think each of these can become part of my daily lexicon, though admittedly, if it requires the regular death of some President or Queen or Prime Minister, I will let that one go.  No one’s desire for a broader personal lexicon is worth snuffing out heads of state.  For the most part.

I walked to work this morning.  I am proud of that.  Of the breakfast to which I treated myself following my walk, though, I am less proud.  It wasn’t hugely horrible, but it wasn’t plain oatmeal with blueberries, either.  Suffice it to say, I’ll need to keep walking regularly if I intend to see any real benefit from it. 

Today is Wellness Wednesday here in Lawland which means there is some vendor down in the big conference room offering fresh fruit or protein bars or smoothies in an attempt to get us to purchase their product/service.  Additionally, there are nurses here to measure blood pressures and answer other health-related questions we’re too cheap to go to the actual doctor about.  As soon as I post this, I’m headed down there.  I’m hoping for pineapple—I absolutely adore fresh pineapple.

I’m in Manhattan Friday night through Sunday afternoon, then Ass-bury Park from Sunday night through Tuesday evening.  I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to being back in the city with the boys.  It’s been six months since I’ve felt the rumble of the subway beneath my feet or smelled over-ripe scent street trash or screamed at some stupid German tourist who’s stopped in the middle of Eighth Avenue to take a picture of something otherwise nondescript.  I can’t wait to get back.

Question of the Day:  What are you looking forward to?

[	Current Location	|	United States, Ohio, Columbus (Main Library)	]
[	Current Mood	|	exanimate	]
[	Current Music	|	People Chatting in the Library Cafe	]

The man sitting next to me at the Columbus Public Library is so gay he reminds me of unicorns farting rainbows.  And to make matters worse, he’s snacking out of a little bag of Cheez-Its brand cheese crackers and I swear to Margaret that bag is made of death and gunfire.  It is the loudest snack food I have ever heard in my entire life—and I’m a big fan of the snack foods. 

The following is a list of things I’d casually, over the last 20 years, forgotten about Ohio.  They are in no particular order.

Bugs/Spiders.  Where in the Holiest of Hells do all these little annoying creatures come from??!!  I have never seen more legs in my life.  Standing on the front porch at night, trying in vain to catch a moment of peace as I enjoy the day’s final cigarette, I’m bombarded from above with thirteen different kinds of moths, I’m slowly being wrapped in spider webs that seemingly string from every sturdy surface to the next, the gnats and flies and other winged beasties buzz about my head like I’m made entirely from fresh cow shit, and the ants, worms, beetles and other sundried ground dwellers play about my feet like I’m the only insectoid entertainment center in the Midwest. 

And the noise these critters make…  Seriously, one can complain about the sounds of the city: traffic, sirens, shouting homeless maniacs, but nothing compares to the constant, voluble drone of the country cricket.  These things NEVER shut up.  The buzz is your constant companion.  And it’s not some quiet chirping in the background.  These things require you to shout conversation.  And they put Dolby surround sound to shame because they are EVERYWHERE!  Above you, below you, behind you, around you, in front of you…  It is an invisible wall of sound that accompanies you everywhere you go.  Thank Margaret this isn’t one of the “on” years for the cicada, either.  Because you add in that unique biological chainsaw and it’s enough to send one over the edge.

Allergies. Since I arrived in Ohio approximately 7 days ago, the constant, low-grade itch that has busied itself about my person has never faltered.  My throat itches, my eyes itch, my skin itches, my feet itch…  I have been popping Claritin like candy and nothing helps.  I’m hoping that eventually the first freezes of winter will take some of these microbial miscreants out of the air but I’m afraid that hallowed event is a good 60-90 days away.  I may go insane before the first freeze of autumn gets here.

Opossum. What the fuck are these things and when did they lose all fear of humans??!!  I’m standing on the porch smoking the last two nights, dodging the kamikaze moths from the air and the myriad spiderwebs from absolutely everyplace else, and I look down the front porch steps to see this hollow-eyed creature from the underworld, pointy, hairless snout raised contemptuously in my direction, staring vacuously at me, wondering when the hell did I become part of his nightly neighborhood rounds?  I wish I’d had the camera ready at the time because the next night, he didn’t so much as give me a second glance but went right on with his evening habituations.  Later on, I saw at least one other of the cursed things roaming the lot across the street.  They’re everywhere.

Helicopters. Mind you, I was living two blocks from the Hudson River Helipad and I don’t remember this kind of helicopter traffic.  At one point in this last week, I swear there were three different helicopters essentially just hovering over the neighborhood.  We do live between several “important” local hospitals, and apparently the police in Columbus get great mileage out of chasing potential criminals down from the air, but you can’t swing a dead opossum around here and not hit some form of helicopter traffic.  Between the drone of the crickets, the roar of the cicada and the thrumming of the helicopters, I feel like I’m living inside the percussion section of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra.  It’s maddening.

Space. Everything in Ohio is as far away from everything else in Ohio as possible.  Where 40 square blocks in midtown Manhattan accounts for something like one-fifth of the total economic output of the United States, 40 square blocks of Columbus accounts for something like one-fifth of the total land mass of the United States. This place is BIG.  And you can’t really appreciate how big it actually is until you try to walk it.  Five miles in New York City is the difference between Queens and Jersey—no small matter. Five miles in Columbus is like five blocks in NYC.  Nobody thinks twice about it.  And everyone drives everywhere. Need to return rented DVDs to the Blockbuster down the street? Drive there.  Want to grab a quick McDonald’s snack around the corner?  Drive there.  Want to work out at the gym 8 blocks away?  Drive there.  Not having a car in this society is like not having an iron lung in the Polio Ward:  you must have one to survive.  The new calendar for Ohio now lists Driver’s License and vehicle procurement at the top of the list, shortly followed thereafter by job and income.  It’s a strange world, but I now call it home. *******************************************************

That’s it for now.  One medium coffee and two different types of pumpkin bar later, I’m going to post this entry and head back home.  My sister is going to pick me up when she gets off from work so we can go shopping to replace Mom’s washing machine that recently gave up the ghost.  This will be the third washing machine we’ve put in her apartment thinking there’s no way the woman can outlive a major appliance.  The joke continues to be on us.

Hope everyone is weathering summer well.  I’m officially ready for the muted fire smells and golden reds of autumn.  Hopefully, they’ll not keep me waiting for long.

[	Current Location	|	29th Street	]
[	Current Mood	|	anxious	]
[	Current Music	|	Timothy Crane	]

I can hear the need digitally humming through the internet: What’s up with Jeffrey!??!

Let’s see if I can answer that question for you.

Just got back from four days in Assbury Park with Mark and Robbie.  I had a big fight with Christopher and Desmond so I threw some necessities in a bag and headed south on Thursday.  The fight was about me needing more support from them and not getting it—the same thing we consistently fight about.  They’ve since really stepped up to the plate and I’m thankful for that.  I now just need to get over myself and resume life as usual—especially since I’m only going to have them this close for another two months.

Mark and Robbie were fantastic.  We worked more on the backyard and basically just hung out.  Mark is something of a teacher/healer, and after an intense, late-night bout of “what’s wrong with Jeffrey,” suggested I read a philosopher/teacher called Ouspensky.  He gave me his copy and I barely started it last night.  It’s fairly intense and thick, so it may take me a while to get through it, but I will, and then he and I will meet regularly to talk about it.  I think.

I also spelled out for them the real reason I’m leaving New York.  I told them I needed to discover anew how to be the me I want to be.  I explained that I too heavily rely on them, and Christopher and Desmond, as well as many, many others to provide my sense of self-worth.  That I’ve become too comfortable with their friendship and acceptance.  I explained that as long as everyone in my intimate circle accepts and loves me for being a single 400 pound, morbidly-obese, narcotic-addicted binge drinking smoker, I will never find the will and strength to challenge those descriptors.  I will never have to develop the life I want for me because I expend my energies on accepting and owning what others tacitly encourage me to be. The argument behind attempting this sea-change in Ohio is that I will have to principally rely on myself there.  I know it will be lonely, but as a lazy person, it may be exactly what I need to reshape my circumstances into a life that is much more positive, healthy and proactive. 

I did last Thursday finally go to get my MRI.  It was not a good day.  Not because they discovered the tumors Doctor Bobby is afraid I have, but because I was too fat to fit into the machine.  Want to redefine “bad day?”  Walk into a medical facility worried that you have a brain tumor only to be told, after they try to get you through the big MRI donut unsuccessfully, that you’re too fat to be effectively diagnosed.  The entire time I was there, everyone kept looking at me like I had a third leg: eyeing me up and down, talking slowly as though they were doing mental calculations on how they were supposed to get this square peg through their round hole.  I felt like I had leprosy.  Now I’ve got to find an open MRI and go through the whole thing again.  It’s discouraging.

I’ve decided to buy the COBRA coverage even though it will cost me over $1000 a month. That’s more than my rent.  I’m hoping to be able to afford it for three months, and within that time, get an accurate diagnosis, treat it as necessary, and possibly accomplish one or two other things, too, but to do that, I’ve got to seriously get my act together and start looking at options.  The whole thing is rather scary.

Even though I’m posting significantly less, I still read my Friend’s pages daily so I’m keeping up with all of you.  With so much of this stuff running non-stop through my brain, finding the creativity to post something frivolous or funny seems impossible.  My apologies for being less entertaining than I prefer.  Hopefully soon things will get back to normal and my flippancy will return. 

[	Current Location	|	Outside the New Highline	]
[	Current Mood	|	cheerful	]
[	Current Music	|	Buddy Morrow's "Night Train"	]

It’s a HOT day.  Very, very hot.  I have the air conditioner set on Economy, so it goes on and off and doesn’t run constantly which I know is the fiscally responsible thing to do, but I’m just sort of permanently sweaty right now and wondering why I decided to stay here during my least favorite season.  Makes no sense whatsoever.

Good Thursday to you, my friends.  I got up early today to be one of the first to climb the Highline and experience this thing that has been happening outside my window for the last year or so and I was not disappointed.  It’s absolutely glorious.  The views of the city are unique and fantastic and I feel very lucky to be living so close to the thing.  I wholly encourage anyone in or around NYC to make it into the city sometime soon to give it a go.  You will be very happy you did.

Here are some pictures.  Joe, roll the tape!

This is a picture of Christopher and Desmond who I so frequently mention as my best friends in New York.  We were dining late at Nisos on 8^th Avenue Saturday night in celebration of Christopher’s (left) 41^st birthday.  Shortly after this pic, we headed on down the street for a drink or two to Rawhide where Christopher stuffed far too many dollar bills into one of the dancer’s G-strings and I yet again complained about the crowd and the quality of the drinks.  It was fun.

Here is Desmond and me at the Eagle later on that night.  Desmond has been having some trying times lately trying to get back into the sexual saddle after he and Christopher nearly killed themselves with crystal methamphetamine in the early and mid-parts of the last decade.   Without the thrill of Tina to underscore his passions, Des hasn’t been able to recapture the joy he used to have with sex and subsequently has completely stopped having it.  As one of the most sexual and sensual people I know, this has proven incredibly troublesome for Desi, but I was hoping an evening on the Eagle roofdeck might help alleviate some of his problems.  It didn’t.  But we still had fun.

Yesterday, I did manage to haul my OLWA out of the Palatial Estate and found the optical store that sold me my broken glasses.  It took them less than three minutes to fix the silly things, but when they handed them back to me, I was disappointed in the quality of the lenses.  After so many years, they’re scratched and the prescription is old and I honestly don’t see out of them all that well.  The glasses I’ve been wearing (and are wearing now) are much better in terms of actual sight facilitation so I think I’m just going to keep wearing them for the time being. 

After the glasses were repaired, I set out on a trek across lower Manhattan to discover places I’d not yet experienced in my 4+ years here.  Chinatown proved to be a much larger place than I’d previously expected or experienced.  I walked around for four hours and consistently enjoyed finding new sights and streets I’d never been on before.  In one of the local markets, I came across this rather positive description of chicken parts and thought I’d share it with you.  I didn’t buy any because the whole place smelled like something had not-so-recently died there, and the prices were not very good.

This morning, as mentioned earlier, I did haul myself up onto the Highline at around 7AM.  This picture is of the festival area at 30^th Street where tons of events are planned this month to celebrate the opening.  The days are reserved for families and children and the evenings will be more adult-style fare.  There will be a different and wide array of food trucks to serve the thousands who will trek down to my corner of the world to participate in the opening, as well as a beer garden to keep them hydrated in this mini heat wave that’s starting off this summer season with a bang.  I hope to make it over at some point this weekend when the crowds are a little lighter and the beer lines are not so long.

This is the view of my apartment building from atop the northern most end of the Highline.  My unit is in the rear (hehehe) but I kinda liked the look of the building from this angle.  It tells you exactly how tenement-like the place really is.  But it’s home, so I’m not complaining.

This is the view of the back of my building, and more specifically, my apartment, which you really cannot see at all.  It’s specifically behind the tree that’s growing out of my back courtyard—a courtyard, I might add, I’ve never once set foot in because only the two tenants on the first floor have access.  The good thing about the tree is that it very effectively blocks any peeping Toms from getting their jollies as they watch me seductively undress every evening.  The bad thing, though, is that it very effectively blocks any peeping Toms from getting their jollies as they watch me seductively undress every evening.  The most amazing thing?  I can access my wifi signal from the Highline!  And there’s a bench at just the perfect location for me to sit and write and enjoy the environs!  I can’t wait to take my computer up there and allow the invigoration of nature to wash over me. 

That’s all I’ve got for today.  Retaining a pretty positive mindset at the moment.  A life of limited responsibility is a great life—I highly recommend it!

Question of the Day:  What tourist attraction is the physically closest to where you live?