Being Middle Aged, The Blues, The day I snapped & became MrMaryMuthaFucking Poppins (1)

One of my readers was foolish to ask me where does all my contempt come from and whats my real story behind all the joking and hilarity, and with erection level honesty(See this post) I wrote this piece. Enjoy

 

“I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”

Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness

Sometimes you take a test and your world changes. For some reason I took some tests and it was decided that I was smart, that my parents should try to make every effort to send me to the best school so I could ‘actualize’ my potential. This was something my parents knew since before I was conceived because on some holy register in heaven, that pumps believability into dreams, it was written that I would be smart. One of my earliest memories was of my father himself being a medical Dr back “home”, showing me how to hold all the tools in a surgical kits. It was amazing, to hold a scalpel and tools I have since forgotten the names of.

These tests sealed the deal. Now for the next few years everyone in the name of altruism would be telling me what to do, what to become, where to become what I was to become. I got a scholarship from the bullshit catholic elementary school I went to. The teachers there wanted to mold me, but I couldn’t fit the mold. I got a scholarship to a Catholic preparatory school, which educationally was great but damning in many ways.  I got a half-scholarship to college, and my Master’s paid for all by way on my intelligence and working many jobs. I took care of my little sister as best as I could.

In Sophomore year, I had to wake up at 4:40 AM to take my sister to school in Queens by 7:30 living in Bklyn. I had class from 9AM to 9PM with long gaps but not long enough to go home and return.  By the time I ate and did my homework it was 1:30.  I started passing out in class and it was rumored among the staff that I was a drug abuser. I had many meetings and eventually they believed my story. I remember one day on the Number 2 train I passed out on the train and I woke up and saw this older gentleman wave to me and said to me in French: It’s meYear’s later  from that moment and two years ago when I was rushed to the hospital for my worst episode, the orderly found only one record of my hving a crisis. When I told him how many I had and how I dealt with it using over the counter pain killers he called me a tough SOB and owes me a beer if I remember correctly]

For those of you who don’t know as of 1994 in the US, the average life expectancy of persons with this Sickle cell  Disease was estimated to be 42 years in males and 48 years in females. I was pretty much middle aged at that point and had nothing to show for it. Sure I had fancy diplomas, college loan debt, but nothing I wouldn’t be sad if my apartment set on fire, not even the memory of legitimately being happy well at least I could think of it through the pain.

So then at that point I became a bit cantankerous, and more vocal of the Bullshit I saw. And this my friends is where the wacked out, crazy, fun loving, wide-smiling Mr MaryMutha Fucking Poppins was born in a way. I was sort of set free after that :-).  Some details have been changed and obscured, to protect my privacy, which ladies  is looking for a safe haven. Actually while I am on the topic:

Endnote For the Ladies

1. In the words of the illustrious 50 cents, I got a lot of living to do before I die … ain’t got time to waste 🙂
2. I’m immune to malaria because of the genetics of the disease. So if I make it big we can go to Safari and I won’t drop dead from mosquito bites.
3. Thanks to better management of the disease, patients can live into their 50s or beyond. Seems a new lease on life is only good for 8 years then u have to trade it in

The Blues by Howlin Wolf

“A lot of peoples wonder, ‘what is the blues?’ I hear a lot of people saying ‘the blues, the blues,’ but I’m gonna tell you what the blues is. When you ain’t got no money, you got the blues. When you ain’t got no money to pay your house rent, you still got the blues. A lot of peoples holler about ‘I don’t like no blues,’ but when you ain’t got no money, and can’t pay your house rent and can’t buy you no food, you damn sure got the blues. If you ain’t got no money you got the blues, because you’re thinking evil. That’s right. Any time you’re thinking evil, you’re thinking about the blues.” – Howlin’ Wolf

It could be a
spoonful
of diamonds
Could be a spoonful of gold
Just a little spoon of your precious love
Satisfies my soul
Men lies about little
Some of them cries about little
Some of them dies about little
Everything fight about little spoonful
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful
It could be a spoonful of coffee
Could be a spoonful of tea
But a little spoon of your precious love
Good enough for me
Men lies about that
Some of them dies about that
Some of them cries about that
But everything fight about that spoonful
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful
It could be a spoonful of water
Saved from the deserts sand
But one spoon of them fortifies
Save you from another man
Men lies about that
Some of them cries about that
Some of them dies about that
Everybody fightin’ about that spoonful
That spoon, that spoon, that spoonful

(Apt song for the blog No ?)

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