I had worked very hard, physically, each week, before, during and after the big move and the visit to Mom for her 80th.

This week I worked five shifts, closing Saturday through Wednesday nights.  Thursday, I slept all day, fielding calls from mom, fighting off a cold with massive rest.  Along with the antidote to poison, which is writing.

Trust me, folks.   It works.

Comedians, otherwise happy people, lead the positive changes of society.  Comedy welcomes the variety of human life, the possibilities;  comedy opens up the acceptance, comedy lets us embrace the new.  Comedy expands our understanding of the other.  Comedy lets us join in on the fun.  Comedy opens us up enough to try to enjoy life, even when it has its grim faces., even when we are alone.



Miguel was in the slim corner back by the stove and the silverware drawer, the napkins and the back ups.   It's 8:45 at night, Wednesday, and he's come up to run food and to take away the dishes the server and I have brought back from tables.  He's back.  There's a pile-up of dirty glassware, a certain desperation in the constant changing out of things that is the restaurant night's life to the servers.  He's doing his thing, maybe he needs to catch his breath, maybe he's tired out.  Frantic points of the evening, he comes on through, picking up the dirty dishes we've piled up after scraping them off into the garbage can on top of the three black milk crates below the rail of bar and the sinks.   He's doing his job.  You can't ask better.  But, why this set up?  Why keep H. at home, so that we would have a busboy on both floors...  We could surely use one.  Why do I have to work like this every night?


I had been having strange sweats at night, I thought due to the wine.  I took a day off of the SSRI Lexapro and immediately the perspirations ended, no waking up with my tee shirt soaked.   And that was one depressing thing off of my plate, that I wasn't going through alcohol dependency.  I guess your brain and your body can only take so much poison.


The worst thing you can do is forget your writing, to neglect it.  That just doesn't work.  Back to the natural stuff.  Let the body and the godly stuff within it take care of itself.

I know this is crap writing, obtuse bullshit, but it has to be done.  It's the only way some of us have of being calm.  Like birds have to sing out.


Somewhere along the line, as I was off line, this old blog hit 200,000 visits.  Many of them specious, no doubt, but some of them real, I hope.