It may be a while before I can get back on to respond/post, but who knows? Jen's got two computers with internet access, albeit dial-up, and I may bring Sammy (my laptop) along for the trip; she likes to adventure with me.
On Sunday, we're going to my Great Uncle Woodrow's church. I think it's going to be difficult to see him. He was unable to go to my grandfather's (his brother's) funeral last month, and he looks just like Pop. Knowing me, I'll cry when I see him. I haven't met him all that many times, and I've found that crying isn't the best greeting. (I'm a weepy little bastard, so it comes up a lot.)
Hey, does anyone remember that "My Name is Lucca" song? Something like:
My name is Lucca.
I live on the 2nd floor.
You live downstairs from me.
Guess you know; you've seen me before.
Ring any bells? It's one of those songs that I almost feel I've hallucinated because I never hear it, and no one knows it. Ah well.
I've made some vast improvements on the apartment, though you wouldn't know it, if you hadn't seen it before I started working on it. I hate seemingly insurmountable cleaning tasks because I find that they get worse before they get better. You know? It's like you have to breakdown the semblance of order that's been created before you can create a genuine order to things, and the interim step looks worse than the whole mess did when you began.
That either makes sense or it doesn't, and if I try to elaborate, I'll only make it worse. (Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks? In dog years, I'm 154 ... or is it 110? Regardless, I'm dead, so that's a pretty old dog.)
So, this new apartment complex is infested with something you can't fumigate for: children! Hopefully they'll legalize that fumigation soon. Apparently, none of the children here have parents/guardians, and they're allowed to roam free, making noise and reeking havoc. Aren't there leash laws in New Jersey? I swear I'm going to make my millions my developing muzzles for children or at least lids for playpens to complete the whole cage concept.
And I don't buy that crap about children being sweet, poor, innocent angels. I think they're just people who haven't had time to grow souls yet. If you don't believe me, stop by any public school around recess. You'll find the stronger ones preying on the weaker ones, exploiting every flaw, criticizing every imperfection, acting like animals. I'm convinced that public school is Lord of the Flies personified (anthropomorphized?), and no, I'm not just bitter about being a nerd for 12 years. So what if I lettered in band and academic league (varsity captain, thank you), wrote papers for money, and took the SATs (4 times) for fun?
I'm gonna go read a comic book, put another roll of tape on my glasses, and hit the sack.