Current | Archives | Profile | | | Email | Just who the hell are you? Please sign guestbook. | Insightful Comments To Me | Host | Image | Design

Someone Needs Some Prozac
10-17-05, 9:56 PM

Leaving a leeway of one hour to be at her house between eight and nine p.m. was pure genius on my part since circumstances delayed my arrival until 9:10 p.m. with a bottle of Hebron Cabernet in hand. On cue, the dog bounced three feet in the air wagging his tail. A couple of glasses into the night urged us to find a late night restaurant but the owner of the restaurant immediately told us the kitchen was closed when we walked through the door. Stunned we asked for the time. 11:30.

Walking back in the direction from where we came, one mile, we walked an additional mile to a World Caf� where the late night hip crowd spoke of intellectual pursuits and politics over wine, cheese, burritos, spaghetti, lamb, humus or anything foreign you could imagine. We, seeking a quiet area, chose to sit outside in the upper fifty to low sixty degree clear night sky. Another bottle of Cabernet, encrusted brie and angel hair pasta warmed the air.

Another mile walk through neighborhood viewing architecture, the night began in her �cozy room� complete with a couch, magazines, her art work and I believe a television but I have yet to see it, not that it mattered. We got cozy but didn�t pass intimate. I fell asleep.

Sunday morning, I awoke with quarter-pound cheeseburger box on my night stand and happy, sleeping dogs with bloated bellies from sharing fries and my burger. When your not satisfied, you always have your second love � greasy comfort food. At this point, I don�t know what to make of this quasi-relationship. Some self-analysis is required and perhaps a week-end off to tests waters and recoup the bank account.

Kids screaming, a pre-teen niece with a new found attitude and father who strained my neck from trying to lift him, pushed me to the breaking point where I yelled at my mother for no apparent reason. The dinner conversation was forced and I found my mother trying to impress my niece's friend who showed for dinner. For example, she hushed the kids who are 4, 8 and 11 yeas old and asked, �Kids have you been following the constitution election in Iraq?�

What the fuck kind of question was that? My smart-lipped niece looked dumbfounded. �What?�
With my head sinking down, I tilt my head left toward my mom and shot a �What the fuck? Are you insane?� look at her. The table was silent.

�Do you know how old these kids are?�

With the continued whining, a smart-ass niece challenging authority and my dad dribbling his food down the front of shirt to his pants then picking the pieces up and eating them, I lost it. I simply lost it. I became overwhelmed at my previous charmed life and how my situation changed over the years. The current thought of struggling to make ends meet whereas before I was on top of the heap.

Life never promised me anything that I recognize but I would like a scenario or just a small piece of what I once had. Sadly, I recognized and recall the moment where I knew my life couldn�t get any better � a summer afternoon standing in center field with a cold beer playing softball with my friends while I looked east toward snow capped mountains of the Continental Divide. We were a co-ed team of fourteen players � all friends.

My reminiscent thought and yearning was interrupted by the urging and questioning if I got flu shot because the bird flu is coming! The media has my family in hysterics now with the new dooms day. A few years back, it was chemical warfare and my family responded according to the news media�s direction: buy duct tape, plastic sheets, first aid kits, water and dried food. Next, natural disasters hit with tornados, hurricanes and tsunamis. We bought a generator. Like last year as it is this year, the Armageddon sign is basically the same with an identified twist and cause -- the bird flu and vaccine shortages.

�You have to get your shot. You must get your shot. You�ll die if you don�t get your shot. It is the bird flu and it is spreading already! It is on the news!�

Rising from the table with the kids running and shrieking in the background and my dad rambling about how he can buy as many pay-per-views shows he wants and damn the money consequences, I announce, �I�ve had enough. I can�t take this anymore. I�m going home. Listen, it doesn�t matter if I die. I don�t have anyone. We�re all going to die someday. I�m going to die. You�re going to die. Mom is going to die and so is dad. Does it really matter when? If you�re not happy now, when do think you�re going to be?�

Silence followed.

Seeing I deadened the room, I asked, �Who wants to take care of my dogs if I die from the bird flu?�

�Someone needs some Prozac.� My mom states.


Yesterday - Tomorrow

Here we go again... - 10-06-10
fuck you. - 07-02-08
A new blog - 04-13-08
New site: The Running Bob - 03-16-08
Tax Man Encourages Hobbies? - 03-11-08
,051017_92.html,Someone Needs Some Prozac,10-17-05>
Recent '06-'07 Entrees
July 05 to July 06