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Archive for the ‘family’ Category

Ripping The Bandage Off

I went to the opening at Redline last night. The non-profit contemporary art center was having their ten-year anniversary celebration. The cavernous space was filled with fixtures of local art scene. I’ll need to go back for a second look as it was too crowded to get a good look at art. My favorite piece is this diptych by Stephen Batura. I love the non-traditional color palette. He’s represented by the high-end Robischon Gallery so I’m guessing this painting is close to ten grand.

After the gallery opening, I met my friend whose partner moved out of the house. He didn’t want to spend another Friday night alone in his palatial home so he hit a few bars. We had a late dinner and a good talk. He is in therapy now with his partner, which is a good thing. His partner showed up for the second therapy session stoned, which is not a good thing. The partner moved home for a week and then moved back into his apartment my friend is paying for.

I’ve known this man for twenty-eight years. It’s hard to watch this relationship flounder. It reminds me of what I went through a few years ago, except my partner didn’t want to go to therapy. He had checked out and started a new relationship. Writing that last sentence was like ripping a bandage off a fresh wound.

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Stopping The Cycle

I couldn’t find a card that said thanks for being an emotionally unavailable distant father with poor communication skills so I sent a gift basket. I made the required call to my father yesterday. He dropped the n-word in the course of conversation. I let fly. I just didn’t want to get into it with him. Why bother to make an issue out of it? He’s tired of being told he’s a racist and I’m tired of trying to change him. He’ll never change and will be dead soon.

I read blog posts and FB posts by people with the most wonderful fathers in the world. I couldn’t relate to any of them. I didn’t fare well in the father lottery. I didn’t fare well in the mother lottery either. I learned to make the best of it. I don’t understand what it is like to have a great relationship with a parent. At this point I never will. It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have children. I wouldn’t want to continue a cycle of bad parenting.

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A Heartless Soul

I was talking to one of gym pals yesterday. He recently lost his mother. He teared up as he told me he misses his mother every day. I gave him a hug in the free weight area that lasted a little too long but he needed it.

Later, I couldn’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with me. I have empathy for my friend but I can’t relate to how he is feeling. I don’t miss my mother. I don’t think about her. The anniversary of her death came and went. I didn’t remember. It doesn’t bother me that I don’t have a mother. I wonder if I’ve become numb to loss become because all of the death I experienced as a young gay man in the eighties, or, am I just a heartless soul?

My mother was a tortured woman who couldn’t find happiness. I hope she found some peace in the afterlife.

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The Ask

The DAM’s manager of individual giving invited Perry and I to a private reception on Friday afternoon. I feel an ask coming. I’m sure she’ll be surprised when she finds out I’m on hiatus will not be able to write a check. I’ve generously supported the museum for years so they’ll just have to wait.

After the reception, I’ll be meeting up with the usual suspects for the art openings. The first stop will be Walker Fine Art to check out the new works by Peter Illig. Stops are also planned at Spark and Rule on Santa Fe. The final destination is the grand opening of Next Gallery in their new space.

Friday night also marks the arrival of the last snow storm of the season. At least, I hope it’s the last snow storm. Hard freeze warnings have been issued. Let the adventure begin!

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Pleased And Appalled

Back in February, my mother sent me a rather large check for my birthday. The check came in an envelope with my mother’s name on the return address sticker. A note was enclosed written on my mother’s stationery. My mother died eighteen months ago.

My father is a very frugal man. He doesn’t like to waste anything. He uses my late mother’s checking account. He signs her name to checks. The checks are processed because my father never notified the bank that my mother had passed. There no sense wasting perfectly good checks! My father has never had a checking account, and at age ninety, I doubt he ever will. He will continue to use my mother’s account until he dies.

So what does an unemployed man do when he suddenly receives an economic boost? One would think he would pay the utilities, stock the pantry and make a few house payments. Not this unemployed man. I bought a piece of art. I also made a sizeable charitable donation in the hope that I will soon have income, and will be able the use a charitable deduction on the 2017 taxes. There’s nothing like planning for the future. And being charitable hopefully brings me some good karma for the job search. But buying more art? I should be seeing an addiction therapist. Thankfully, I still have a large balance in my emergency fund which takes covers my expenses. I’m sure Suze Orman would be simultaneously pleased that I have an emergency fund and appalled I bought art.

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Off To Prison

Back in March of 2012, my parents had a home invasion by a neighbor. It was an ordeal that ended with a SWAT team storming the neighbor’s house. The case finally went to trial in January. The man pleaded guilty to three assault and robbery charges. He is facing a fifteen-year prison term. Sentencing is set for March 10th. The man continues to live two houses away from my father. Since the trail, the police increased patrols in the neighborhood and occasionally do a welfare check.

It was a violent crime along with being a tragic event. What’s even more tragic is the man is schizophrenic and is being sent to prison instead of a mental health facility. The court has deemed the man is not crazy enough (I’m not sure of the correct medical or legal term) for a mental health facility because he has followed a court order to stay on medication. He has presented as normal in court hearings. Off to prison he goes. Will justice be served?

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He’s A Slob

My brother and nephew have been here since Thursday. They leave Tuesday night. It’s been fun but my nephew is a slob. He decided he didn’t want to share a bed with his father so he’s been sleeping on the sofa in the living room.
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There’s an unused closet and dresser in the guest bedroom. Clearly, his parents didn’t teach him how to be proper houseguest.

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