holy cow it’s a home run!

I should suppose the biggest walk-off home run for me would be to be finally rid of all the anxiety attacks and migraines I’ve been having throughout my adult lifetime.  A lot of them came from food-mostly caffeine-allergies anyway, and most of that trouble has diminished quite significantly. My headaches are rather infrequent these days and my anxiety appears to be easily manageable. For well over the past decade, I’d gotten an insanely violent rash all over my body, with scratch marks that kept showing up in different places at different times. Oddly, I started noticing that since both my parents died last year, my rash has been entirely gone. Maybe it’s only a post hoc ergo propter hoc kind of thing but who knows?  Perhaps there’s even a connection somehow. I know perfectly well that I’m able to do anything that anyone else is capable of. I just wish, though, that I didn’t have to go through all the frustrating jitters.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/grand-slam/

http://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com/2014/10/21/decisive-victory/

http://movingtowardsthelight.com/2014/10/21/sexy-poetry/

http://theyyouandme.wordpress.com/2014/10/21/the-rat-race/

http://cancerisnotpink.wordpress.com/2014/10/21/my-hat-trick-er-uh-walk-off/

http://nisbetnotes.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/i-dont-know-how-to-be-creative/

tempus fugit. memento mori

I suppose that I have known, since a very early age, of the inevitably of my eventual death.  When I was first born I was  very sick, with a life-threatening problem, and after effects that lingered all throughout my childhood, so I was constantly reminded of the risk of my early death. The earliest death that really stands out in my mind, in a concrete way, is my Uncle Gino’s when I was a twelve year old kid. As far as I know, there wasn’t any feeling of total awe at my having realized that I would, sooner, or later, be required, by definition, to die. Having always gone to Catholic schools, I was always reminded of it, but it must have inevitably struck me as just some entirely abstract factual reality.  Unlike many people I simply don’t have a profoundly cathartic story to tell about how some ultimate moment of truth profoundly changed my life and perception of that specific aspectfour-last-things1 of reality. Sooner or later, each of us shall be in either Heaven (usually by way of Purgatory), or Hell. That’s the ultimate inevitable eschatological reality of the four last things. Death carries with it at least two main fears for each of us: the fear of all the physical and emotional torment that goes with the end of his life, and the fear of eternal damnation for those who go to hell. I really have to wise up and to start dealing with it in a more first hand manner very soon.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/finite-creatures/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/patience/

http://youaintspecial.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/prove-it/

http://fibercompulsion.com/2014/10/20/infinite/

http://shameport.wordpress.com/2014/09/14/spinning-dust/

http://agirllikemee.wordpress.com/2014/10/20/on-a-sunny-summer-afternoon/

…but first take a lopsided tour of all the stuff around here

If a stranger comes knocking and wants to know how he can get to the Long Beach station of the Long Island Railroad, I should ask him if perchance he may enjoy an ice cream cone. If so then he could start his trip by going for a few miles into the opposite direction on Park Avenue, to Marvel. It’s pronounced to rhyme with Carvel. He’ll be headed toward the Loop Parkway, somewhat past there, in case he really wants to go far away. After that he may want to go down past Beech Street to see the several miles of beaches we have around here. Who could possibly even try to resist our enchanting boardwalk? While there he could either rest or exercise. I’ve been there several times since I first got here.  On his way back in this direction he may stop at  the Lido Kosher Deli, as well as the liquor store, Italian restaurant and pizzeria right next door to the Key Food on Park Avenue. Across the street from them is Associated too.  Except for the kosher deli’s French fries I really like all the stuff they have there. Perhaps he could go down to the West End where they have a nice business district with several restaurants, as well as a CVS, and bagel shops.  Maybe he could even stop at Swingbelly’s Restaurant, where my niece works. If he happens to show up on either a Wednesday or a Saturday he can go to the Farmer’s Market at Kennedy Plaza. That’s very close to the train station. Of course for good coffee he could go to the Coffee Nut Cafe and Gentle Brew. Depending on his religion he may want to visit either Young Israel or the Knights of Columbus Council 2626. For clothes he could go slightly over the bridge onto Long Beach Road in Island Park and shop at Kohl’s and Marshall’s. By the time he even remembers that all he wanted to catch a train he will have seen much of what really keeps life interesting around here.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/circuitous-paths/

http://byrnesbeth.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/spinning-fall-tails/

http://linusfernandes.com/2014/10/18/circuitous-paths-deadbeats/

http://lordofsick.wordpress.com/

http://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2014/10/18/walking-away/

http://thescaredone.wordpress.com/2014/10/18/monologue/

sister rose eugene s.c.

I can’t remember anything of any significance regarding my very earliest interaction with someone else, but my first meeting with Sister Rose Eugene, my first grade teacher at St. Gabriel’s Elementary School in East Elmhurst, has always struck me as quite distinctive. When I first started school, the Sisters of Charity of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton were in charge of the kids in the younger grades. Back then each Sister still wore an old  fashioned traditional

black habit, ankle-length, with a gigantic black bonnet,  and and enormous Rosary for a belt. When I first met Sister Rose Eugene, immediately before I was to start the first grade, she must have scared me out of at least fifteen years worth of growth. To this very day I can still remember my not having been able to come up with an answer when she asked me my name. She was still only a young adult so she may not have been professed for a very long time. I assume she was only trying to be friendly with her new young charge. From her point of view it may already have been quite a reasonably familiar experience. That’s all I can remember of what appeared to have been a relatively brief episode. I assume she handled it quite tactfully.  I have no memory of her having been stern.  She was friendly and humored me.  As a teacher and a professed Religious, she must have been very well educated in child psychology. My first year of school went  well and I was so happy there.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/reverse-shot/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/beauty-of-unwanted-birth/

http://tombalistreri.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/stranger-danger/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/16/echo/

http://new2writing.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/daily-post-memory-games/

http://grieflessons.wordpress.com/2014/10/17/mommy-talk/

happy being a square

Over the course of my lifetime I’ve always been a bit of a square, never trusting the new and unknown. I usually tell people that it all started around my twelfth birthday when I was forced to move to Lindenhurst from Jackson Heights. That was my first confrontation with significant change. I’ve always been resistant to change though.  The Beatles have been my favorite band for as long as I can even remember. I have always astonished people with my lack of interest in new pop cultural milestones. Politics, of course, is entirely too important a priority to allow novelty to become a significant factor. I’ve always seriously suspected that the most controlling people use the supposed need for change-always, conveniently, change of their choosing-as a way of winning people over to their side. I’m quite happy the way I am and see no need to be on the vanguard of a new experience.  It doesn’t pay to bother to go too crazy for new experiences. Everything new and fresh inevitably soon becomes old and stale anyway. If someone becomes too attached to the new for its own sake, he then goes through his lifetime perpetually frustrated.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/avant-garde/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/couriers/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/commute/

http://onesahmscrazylife.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/kids-these-days/

http://agirllikemee.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/bubbles-of-my-mind/

http://marthakennedy.wordpress.com/2014/10/15/music/

mrs. brown you’ve got a lovely daughter

still-life-with-dougJim and Mike, sophomores at St. John the Baptist High School, were hanging out at the gift shop of Good Samaritan Hospital, right next door, one afternoon.

“Wow, isn’t that Linda Brown, the prettiest girl in school?!” Jim gasped.

“Five feet, four inches tall, black hair, gigantic blue eyes, and what a sweetheart!” Mike stammered.

The salesman behind the counter wanted to chase them away but seeing how lovely the source of their distraction was, he understood, so he humored them.

“Get a load of that,” Jim mumbled. “She’s so enchanting she’s made the numbers on that clock fall down.”

my oscar madison persona

Right now my bedroom is significantly messier than my computer’s desktop. I’ve always been a bit of a slob. When I was a kid I lived in Jackson Heights. My friend Jo Anne reminded me once, a few years ago, that when we were kids in St. Gabriel’s, at the end of each day all the other kids from our 92nd Street group used inevitably to have to wait for me to get ready to leave school because I was always so nightmarishly disorganized.  Unfortunately that’s one of the bad things about me that haven’t changoscared since my very earliest days. In my defense, though, this bedroom is significantly more neatly organized than other’s I’ve had throughout the past many decades. Most of the messy things are clothes separated on the floor into piles, one neat and one dirty, and besides them there’s a big pile of sheeslobts and blankets just waiting for the much dreaded  cold weather finally to kick in. My books and toiletries are all neatly arranged. At least it’s currently quite an organized mess. I just have to get it more neatly arranged.  I tend not to throw things away soon enough so I always have quite a pile of junk mail and obsolete church bulletins lying around long after they serve no purpose. Unfortunately when my kind of Oscar Madison shows up, everyone else feels compelled to play the role of  Felix Unger. That alone is enough to make me sick and tired, by now, of all the incessant whining, to the point where I end up wising up and trying to change.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/sweeping-motions/

http://abozdar.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/swimming-at-the-speed-of-sound/

http://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com/2014/10/14/the-clutterbox/

http://itsmatthewburgos.wordpress.com/2014/10/14/too-much-daily-prompt-short-story/

http://greenembe.rs/2014/10/14/4923/

http://linusfernandes.com/2014/10/14/sweeping-motions-whats-messier/

i’m a sixty minute man

If I were to wake up tomorrow morning only to find out that each day would, from then on, last for twenty five hours, I don’t suppose that it would make much difference. That only adds up to 2.5  more minutes for each hour.  In the long run it would make quite a difference but no noticeable change would transpire over the course of each specific day. I suppose I could sleep a bit more. Unfortunately I never get any sleep anyway so perhaps I should say that I could lie down a little more.  I can imagine that workplaces, schools and other environments where schedules make a difference it would lead to quite a major change of plans, but for the average normal things in a guy’s life a mere hour, whether gained or lost, isn’t exactly the stuff of legends. The bad time change will soon be yet again upon us. With any luck an extra hour could be added to the daylight. If there’s one thing that could be absolutely guaranteed to drive me plum out of my mind it’s even more dark skies. Yet another problem may be my already nasty case of excessive impatience. As long as I don’t have to be kept waiting for things even longer, and to get even more frustrated than I already tend to get, I’m happy with it. Perhaps I could steal the hour from each day and, since I ever so bitterly despise noise, officially declare it a peace and quiet time during which all unwelcome sound would be banished.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/twenty-five-seven/

http://tuckedintoacorner.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/25-7/

http://tombalistreri.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/more-time/

http://hopethehappyhugger.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/one-more-hour/

http://confessionsofahombebody.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/top-10-things-i-would-do-with-an-extra-hour-a-day/

http://noisynebohopma.wordpress.com/2014/10/13/daily-prompt-25×7/

impatient bookworm

For as long as I can remember I’ve always been quite a compulsive bookworm. There’s never been a time when I’ve gone for a significant period without reading something of at least some significance.  I have quite an interest in classic western literature. Currently I’m reading both Jane Austen’s  novel “Sense and Sensibility” and Longfellow’s epic poem “Evangeline, A Tale of Acadie”.  Unfortunately I’ve been a bit lazy about them. Having gone on quite a streak with both for a long while, I somehow stopped reading them a few weeks ago.  I have no idea why. It’s most certainly not because I haven’t been bothering to read anything. Over the course of that time I’ve been reading periodicals and all sorts of little things. evangeline.longfellowPerhaps it’s because both those literary works subject my eyes to such an ominous chore but I simply haven’t yet gone back to either of them.  I’m now reading both online and they’re so long and difficult. Unfortunately when this happens I sometimes don’t even bother to end up finishing what I’ve been reading.  Impatience has always been quite an exceptionally bad problem for me. I intend to continue with them though. I’ve already read “Sense and Sensibility” a few times anyway. Throughout my lifetime I shall always read constantly. As with everything else I do, though, there will be rough spots.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/readers-block/

http://movingtowardsthelight.com/2014/10/12/book-review/

http://guthonestfaith.wordpress.com/2014/10/12/letter-snob/

http://likereadingontrains.wordpress.com/2014/10/12/a-teen-demigod-and-the-greek-pantheon-daily-prompt-readers-block/

http://anupturnedsoul.wordpress.com/2014/10/12/you-dont-read-me-the-way-that-you-used-to/

http://polyproticamory.wordpress.com/2014/10/12/im-a-terrible-bookworm/

something to talk about

I don’t know if there’s an ideal number of people for a conversation, debate or any other form of interpersonal communication. For me the deciding factor in a perfect conversation is the subject matter. Only a very short time ago I was involved in an exceptionally interesting conversation with my sister and three friends of hers, that involved topics ranging from literature to history. We ended up referring to people like Jane Austen, and presidential assassins Booth, Guiteau, Czolgosz and Oswald. That’s the kind of conversation that conversationcan really keep my undivided attention, whether it’s only in a small group, or in a classroom with more than three dozen people. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a very good idea to have an overwhelmingly large group because it would be too difficult to keep track of all that’s going on and to give everyone present a fair chance to participate. As long as all present are interested in the topic or topics of conversation, the number can vary.  Of course I quite often enjoy a good interior monologue too. The cast of characters who populate my imagination can keep me company especially well.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/counting-voices/

http://crashcoursedummy.wordpress.com/2014/10/11/voices/

http://pepperconnection.com/2014/10/11/verbal-jousting-needs-how-many/

http://bhalsop.wordpress.com/2014/10/11/daily-prompt-counting-voices/

http://cartervail.wordpress.com/2014/10/11/voices-daily-prompt/

http://angloswiss-chronicles.com/2014/10/11/daily-prompt-counting-voices-silence-is-golden/