Sunday, April 29, 2012
Yesterday's antique blog went if not viral, at least mildly contagious, having been picked up and sent around by a couple promoters. Welcome earthlings and alien visitors alike. We are only here to observe your planet and will not interfere unless you force us to or we get really hungry.
Had one interesting thing happen. A dermatologist doctor friend showed up with a couple vials of cortisone and a syringe. Years ago I had open heart surgery to correct a few internal malfunctions which left a strange bumpy ridge on my chest. He motioned me into the bathroom and administered a few shots to the area. As I felt the sting I was just hoping that nobody walked into the public restroom, probably would have thought we were a couple of junkies shooting up.
I had some interesting blowback from my post where I was bitching about people needing to drive fancy cars to ensure their status in this tawdry world of ours. It was pretty funny. Lena called first. "Hey Robert (and now mimicking me) Stanley and Tracy drive Mazdas and Hyundais" I'll have you know that I bought the BMW because it has a steel frame and I was just broadsided. You didn't mention that." Luckily she was laughing.
Mel drove up next in her Mercedes CLK350. "Hey jealous asshole, Steve and I said fuck you." Just kidding, I am pretty sure.
R&D had us over for an incredible shabu shabu dinner. "Uh. was that blog about us?" "No," I said, shaking my head vigorously. "Well that's nice. I am thinking about buying the new M5," confessed my good pal and lovely hostess.
BigD said he wouldn't even read it because I drove like an old lady and couldn't even begin to understand a real man's attachment to a fine automobile.
I think one other person piped up who I am momentarily drawing a blank on. I had done it. I had managed to offend a large swath of my closest friends. Somebody came up to me at the show yesterday and said hey idiot, read your little ditty on the class war. Really smart to bite the hands that feed you, you dope.
The truth is that a lot of my income is derived from the 1%. But it is also true that I love my friends and that they mostly accept my deficiencies, a fact for which I am really grateful.
You can't blame me for being a little conflicted about the money thing. I am the son of a millionaire real estate developer who never paid his child support, leaving his progeny including yours truly eating scraps and running from the creditors while he lived the dolce vida. Always hated entitlement.
Now these days said father, who I love and made peace with decades ago, doesn't know my name and is living some sort of life in a group home in the Central Valley. Monday afternoon I am going to a meeting with his doctors. Apparently he is acting out and getting physical with his fellow Alzheimer's patients. The doctors want to increase his meds and he can no longer visit his own home. Tomorrow will be a very long day.