On Parades, Outrageousness and Drag Queens

The annual Portugese Festival is this weekend here in Provincetown, where there is a large Portugese community that goes way back to when this was mainly a fishing village (hence the Portugese fishermen on the "Welcome to Provincetown" signs, though I think they should have used a drag queen - wouldn't that be a hoot? Might scare tourists away, I suppose...)


There was a nice parade today that passed right by my door, as they all do, right down Commercial Street - Portugese dancers in native costume, a few floats, marching bands, and lots of fire trucks. There was even a Pilgrim (the Pilgrim Monument celebrates its 100th anniversary on Aug. 20, so they are promoting that event. Click his pic above to enlarge). There are basically three big parades in town, with today's being the first. The others are on the 4th of July, and Carnival, the largest and most raucous, the third week of August. It is parades like Carnival that the religious nuts always use images from to convince people how depraved gay people are - as if gay people act this outrageously every day (well ok, some do). They're letting loose, having fun, and being outrageous with no inhibitions - something we could all learn to do once in a while. I know I could. The more uptight someone is, the more judgmental they are likely to be of someone who is "free." I have struggled with this myself, but have come a long way. I remember the first time I was in the presence of a "flamboyant" gay person, I was freaking out because he was so different than me and I was afraid maybe I was like that inside (maybe I am!) In any event, people are who they are and they have no reflection on me - even if they are part of my so-called community. If someone wants to dress up like Cher or Lady Godiva or Rosie (well, maybe not Rosie...) and cavort down the street, good for them! I'm not going to judge them, but rather admire their bravery for feeling free to be outrageous now and then. There's a drag queen entertainer here named Miss Richfield who rides down the street every night on her little scooter, beeping her little horn, hamming it up with the tourists and soliciting an audience for her show. She's a hoot, and her nightly ride by my shop is one of the highlights of the evening, along with the many street performers playing music and creating a Parisian atmosphere.

Well, the parade crowd has left and it's slowed down quite a bit, being the dinner hour. I think I'll go get some sustenance myself. Until next time. Today's quote:

Resolve to be thyself; and know that he who finds himself, loses his misery.

~Matthew Arnold

The power of thought

Today's entry is a bit of a continuation of yesterday's themes, which blossomed in my head during the therapeutic drive to Orleans. I have been particularly struck by one of the songs on my 6-disc rotation in the car CD player, and that is a tune called "Make This Go On Forever" by Snow Patrol. While the title certainly doesn't fit, I suspect this will be the song that most reminds me of the current crises I face in my life right now. It stood out the first time I heard it, and it is more the mood it creates than the lyrics that most strike me (though the lyric repeated at the end, "Please just save me from this darkness", fits my situation more than the song's title does). The tune is both haunting and hypnotic, two qualities I love in a song, along with profound or poetic lyrics. All these qualities are also found in one of my favorite songs of all time, Neil Diamond's "Holly Holy," especially the superb live version from his quintessential 1972 concert album "Hot August Night." It is also the song I most eagerly anticipate at his concerts (I've been to nine or ten, I've lost count), and it alone is worth the price of admission to me. There is something extra powerful about his live renditions of this number, which build to a trance-like, explosive/cathartic climax at several points, and they are as close as I've come to a spiritual experience outside of therapy. Major head rush. Maybe that's what I want to "Go On Forever," but then it wouldn't be special, which is why I don't over-listen to my favorite music lest I kill its magic by doing so (Nessun Dorma, Tchaikovsky's Forest of Fir Trees in Winter from The Nutcracker, and Dear Father from Jonathan Livingston Seagull (another spiritual masterpiece from Mr. Diamond) all fall into this category).

Speaking of music and memories, I've noticed that memory is not only selective, but revisionist in a positive sort of way. I suspect that we put a positive spin, probably subconsciously, on most of our memories, filtering out any unpleasant factors so that only the pleasant remains (we do this with fantasies and daydreams also, and especially past lovers). Hence, these songs that trigger memories of my experiences on Cape Cod will no doubt color them more brightly than perhaps they should, which I suppose is OK. I know the truth is a little bit different than that, even though there have been bright aspects of being here. I am grateful to have had the experience - an experience most people never get to have (owning a million-dollar property in one of the most beautiful places in the country).

Which segues into my next topic...... two of my favorite quotes that I find some solace in these days.

One of them some of you may notice I use as my email "signature." It's from Hamlet, Act 2 Scene 2, in which the miserable Hamlet compares Denmark to a prison. His compatriots disagree, to which Hamlet remarks, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Translated from Elizabethan English into more modern language, this might read "Whether you consider something to be "good" or "bad" depends on how you look at it." Nothing is good or bad in and of itself - it's how we interpret things that assigns "goodness" or "badness" to an event or a thing (or, in Hamlet's case, a place). We have another way of saying this nowadays: "One man's trash is another man's treasure." So when something happens that I am tempted to label "bad" (which we do solely based on past experience), I try to look at it in a different light, and remember that it's only "bad" if I choose to see it that way. Maybe it will have a "good" outcome - what the hell do I know? In this way, we each create our own reality based on our beliefs and expectations (a whole other topic that I am quite fond of and will expound upon one of these days).

The second quote I want to talk about today is also from Shakespeare, but this time from MacBeth, Act 1 Scene 3: "Present fears are less than horrible imaginings." How often do we worry and imagine the worst about a situation? How often do we imagine the best? I dare say we usually are tempted to "fear the worst." How pessimistic! None of us knows what the future holds, much as we like to think we can predict it. So why waste energy - waste life - worrying about things that will likely never happen? Better yet, why not imagine the best? Are we so afraid of disappointment that we nip hopeful thoughts in the bud? The bible says "As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he" (Proverbs 23:7). It also says, "As thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee" (Matthew 8:13). Basically, you get what you habitually think about.

Now I'll be the first to admit that I don't always live by these two maxims, but I try to when I can muster the strength and courage. These concepts are counter to our normal way of thinking, but, to throw in a bonus quote, "Be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2). I don't for a minute believe that everything in the bible is true, but it sure does contain some good advice in spots. So these ideas are nothing new, but have been rehashed in new ways by Science of Mind ("change your thinking, change your life"), the hit DVD and book "The Secret," and many new-age thinkers (Louise Hay, Abraham-Hicks, Wayne Dyer ("You'll See It When You Believe It"), Deepak Chopra, Barbara Dewey, Michael Talbot and many others). And quantum mechanics supports the theory that our thoughts do affect our physical reality, at least at the minutest level. Jesus himself said that we - yes, we - could literally move a mountain just by commanding it to do so - if we believed we could. How powerful is that? Oh we of little faith! We are gods! (cf. Psalms 82:6)

Hope I don't sound too preachy, but I have been fascinated by these concepts for many years, and believe them to be true. So yes, I have gotten myself into my current situation by my past thoughts, beliefs and actions (which always follow thoughts and beliefs). This doesn't mean I blame myself or beat up on myself. Rather, it reminds me to be more careful what I think and believe, and to project a better future for myself and thereby make it happen. Of course as soon as something "bad" happens it's tempting to think this is all bunk - therein lies the challenge.

Today's quote:

"Take the lonely child - and the seed, let it be full with tomorrow..."
- Neil Diamond, Holly Holy

Music, Memory and Solitude

Went down to Orleans for physical therapy today, and am still enjoying every opportunity to go for a ride (just like Marley!). I've always enjoyed driving - I can actively listen to music without bothering anyone, and I find it very therapeutic (hmm... maybe I should become a trucker! OK, maybe a courier...) I think it's time to change my CDs though, I've been listening to the same six all summer, and it's not like I don't have other choices. But it has partly been deliberate, as I know the repetition means that whenever I hear these songs in the future, I will always think of my last Cape Cod summer. I strongly connect music to prior times in my life and feeling states - it's like an emotional time machine. For instance, the 1976 hits "More, More, More" (Andrea True Connection) and "Afternoon Delight" (Starland Vocal Band) always remind me of my first summer visits to the Cape as a teenager, and "How's It Gonna Be" by Third Eye Blind reminds me of my first visits as an adult. Other songs remind me strongly of childhood (mainly songs from 1967 for some odd reason, when I was 4), or people I've dated ("Open Arms" by Journey, "When I Fall in Love" by Celine Dion, anything from the excellent musical "Jekyll and Hyde"), or trips I've taken ("Bennie and the Jets" brings back memories of hearing it on the bus during a junior-high trip to Philadelphia). Music affects me strongly, and in recent years I haven't listened to it as much as I used to. I'm starting to change that, with the help of my Zen Vision (a handheld music storage/playback device, like an iPod, that holds 15,000 songs).

Spent some time on the porch today reading the New York Times, something I don't do often enough (read the Times or sit on the porch). Very relaxing, I wish there were time for it every day. There probably is if I would get up earlier, but that would entail going to bed earlier, which would cut into other favored activities - reading at night, watching sitcoms and doing Crostics. Choices, choices.

Which brings me to another topic that's been on my mind lately - introversion. While the activities I've mentioned a preference for above may seem solitary and even "boring" to some, I am decidedly an introvert (excellent description here and here. I fall under "Group A"). Introverts have been likened to a rechargeable battery - they only have so much social energy to expend, at which time they need to go "recharge" by being alone. Extroverts (who make up most of the world), are very different in that they draw their energy from people. For the introvert, people drain their energy. Extroverts often think there's something wrong with introverts, and indeed introverts often think that as well. I know I sure did, and still do at times. It was especially tough being a gay introvert in a world of straight extroverts. I felt extremely different and isolated due to being so different from the majority of the population. Nothing 12 years of therapy couldn't correct.

All this has come back to haunt me here in Ptown. While I certainly can't feel different for being gay here (where the majority of the population is also gay), the striking thing is that I still feel like I don't fit in. It has taken me a while to realize why - this is a town full of extroverts. Gay extroverts, but extroverts nonetheless - and gay people can be really extroverted (think drag queens here). It overwhelms me (introverts are easily overwhelmed), and my response is to isolate. I think I've been on "overwhelm" a lot the past few years (from working too much and too much change), and I need to respect my need for solitude and stability more. After a long day of dealing with the public, which I've been doing for many years now, I can feel pretty drained and just want to sit alone and read or watch tv or listen to music. I envisioned my move to Ptown being much less overwhelming, perhaps because I came here on vacation so much and was influenced by those memories. It is a laid back place, but not when you're an introvert running a business here.

For those of you who have known me a while, you can see the point at which my social energy goes out the window. I get quiet and probably look a bit miserable. Sometimes I let this go on for too long and can feel physically ill or panicky.

It is clear to me that being my own boss strongly appealed to my introvert tendencies as a teenager. However, now that I will likely go to work for someone else, I am wondering what kind of job I can tolerate, as there are many more jobs targeted towards extroverts than introverts. I'm sure I'll find something (libraries are certainly appealing, as is writing). I can't say as though running my own business is any longer the best choice. Too overwhelming. It was good while it lasted, but time to move on to something more sedate.

As promised, here is today's quote, appropriately about a famous introvert, spoken by President John F. Kennedy when he welcomed forty-nine Nobel Prize winners to the White House in 1962, saying,

"I think this is the most extraordinary collection of talent and of human knowledge that has ever been gathered together at the White House—with the possible exception of when Thomas Jefferson dined alone."

Random Musings

The weather finally turned nice today after almost a week of very cool temps. And on a Saturday no less! However, I can't say that it's helping business much, at least not yet. Lots of people are at the beach, no doubt. The pic above is of the town beach right across the street from me. Not the nicest beach in town by any means, but nice enough to look at from my shop window. Being fair-skinned and rather heat intolerant I've never been much of a beach goer, but I do find looking at the ocean and ocean breezes to be quite tranquil. I guess my ideal situation would be to go to the beach on a warm evening, when the sun isn't too hot and there aren't many people there. Or maybe no one. Kind of like that closing scene from Planet of the Apes, but without the remnants of the Statue of Liberty. And without Charlton Heston, who's way too gun-happy and conservative for me. It's really kind of sad that I've lived here at Beach Central for over a year and only went to the beach once - and that in the off-season. It's almost like I need to be on vacation to allow myself the luxury of going. Plus I think it would make me too sad to go. Not sure what that's all about. I'm sure I could figure it out with a few years of therapy, but it'd be cheaper to just go to the beach and stop giving in to my avoidant tendencies.

I'm keeping sane these days in three ways - doing Crostic puzzles, which can calm my sometimes anxious thoughts, watching movies or comedy shows on TV (South Park, Frasier, Will & Grace mainly), and reading (currently "Mysticism and the New Physics"). That is my usual nightly routine, while others prefer to carouse and go out and party. I've gotten too old for that, not that I ever liked it much to begin with. I'm proud to say that I have never in my life tried, or even been tempted to try, drugs, which are quite popular here. No doubt it's largely a function of fear, both of losing control and of getting sick, but I also like to think it's just good judgment (South Park's school counselor, Mr Mackie comes to mind: "Drugs are bad, mkay?"). Even my alcohol drinking has been extremely moderate, with the heaviest being the Chocolate Martinis I used to consume on vacation in - Provincetown. I think I've had one since I moved here. Alcohol, like many things I injest, often throws my nervous and digestive systems into a frenzy. While I must say it can be fun to feel a little woozy, the price I pay afterwards is often not worth it. I've never been quite sure if my body is trying to wisely protect me with its many allergies and sensitivities, or if it's just generally hyper-reactive. It's quite possible that were I able to eat and drink whatever I wanted, I'd be a fat drunk (I'd sure be eating lots of pizza). Instead I'm just miserable. Ha!

Big plans tonight to watch either "Little Miss Sunshine" or "Sleepy Hollow," both of which I've rented. I've decided that I haven't watched nearly enough movies in my lifetime, so I'm making up for lost time. Watched a hilarious spoof movie called "Mars Attacks!" the other night, which I thoroughly enjoyed. The kind of movie you want to watch again right after seeing it. The late evening has always been my favorite time of day. Thank god there's one every night (Neil Diamond wrote a great song called "Thank the Lord for the Nighttime," one of the many reasons I relate to this man's music so).

I'd like to leave you today with a quote from my page-a-day Tropical Paradise desk calendar, a great collection of beautiful, full-color beach (!) pictures and inspiring quotes, which I love to collect and reflect on. In fact, maybe I'll end my blog entries with a quote every day, so consider this the start of a tradition:

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." - Teddy Roosevelt

P.S. Had to share this solution from the Crostic puzzle I just spent the last hour doing, as it is such good advice: "All of your feelings affect your actions. How you feel about your job, your mate, your family, your money, your health, your self, your success, will determine how you behave in each of these areas. If your feelings are positive and productive, your actions will follow.'' (Shad Helmstetter, What to Say When You Talk to Yourself). Sounds like a book worth reading..........

A Flush Beats a Full House...

Well, it's not exactly the beautiful picture of Pilgrim Lake that I promised, but as I was behind this septic truck for much of my ride to Orleans, I couldn't resist snapping a pic of its clever slogan (Making your #2 Business our #1 Priority!). Thankfully, there was no odor to go with it. Maybe the wind was just right. As for Pilgrim Lake, much too cloudy today. We'll try again Thursday, though I suspect pictures won't do it justice.

Physical Therapy went well, Jan, my therapist, seems pleased with my progress, slow as it is. Little things are cause for celebration, like being able to fully flex my wrist, or seeing muscles in my hand trying to work when I attempt to squeeze a rolled-up towel. She warned that my hand might hurt tonight since we worked it so much today, but I've stashed some painkillers for just such occasions. She also told me that rotator cuff problems can set in if we don't keep working my arm/shoulder area as well, so I better keep at my exercises, which admittedly I have slacked on some days. But I must say my hand has been hurting less the past few days, and seems less swollen.

The last two days have both flown by, even though I've gotten up earlier and it has stayed lighter later in the evening. Not sure what this means, except maybe that I've been busy and it's been busy. This is a good thing and doesn't seem to be taxing me. Yet. It really can get quite crazy here at the height of tourist season, and between waiting on customers, stocking magazines, processing magazine returns, and keeping up with the bills and paperwork and long hours, it is a lot to handle. But Kevin has been very helpful working shifts, and I also have "stripping" assistance (ripping the covers off old magazines for return credit), which I will be physically unable to do for the rest of the summer. We also have to cart the old, stripped magazines to the recycling center, which my SUV is currently full of. Can't take Marley for any rides until I get someone to go to the transfer station with me.

Haven't checked the film festival schedule yet, but it'd be nice to get to see a few (there are over 100 films being screened). Speaking of movies, I went to see "Pirates of the Caribbean" last week here in town with a housemate, who assured me it started at 8:30. We left the house at 8:15 for the 10 minute walk, which was a big deal for me as I haven't gotten out much lately. When we got to the theater, we asked if the film had started yet, and were told it started at 8:15. We decided to go in anyway, figuring there were previews. To our delight when we got inside, what was on the screen looked nothing like "Pirates," so we figured we hadn't missed anything. However, after a few more minutes it became clear to me that we weren't watching previews, and weren't even seeing the right movie. Seems they stopped showing it last week. This is what one gets for not reading signs. We got our money back and left, and I still haven't seen "Pirates". It's playing at the Wellfleet Drive-in - I think - and that might be a fun outing if time permits. Haven't been to the drive-in in about ten years. I know it was a long time ago, because it was with someone I was dating. Talk about ancient history. I think the flick was "City of Angels," a great movie, but a crappy one to see on an outdoor screen. Too dark and little action. IMDB says it came out in 1998, so my time estimate is pretty close, and that was indeed the year - or at least the 5 months - that I dated Chad.

Didn't sell any more snoozing pets today (see yesterday's entry), but I did order more in anticipation of the huge crowds this weekend. I also discovered, after I closed up last night and it was quiet, that they snore! How cute is that? I've gotten to the point that when people ask if they're real, I say yes. Upon finding out that they weren't, one woman asked me how to stop them from breathing. Somehow, that seemed like a really twisted question. I was glad she didn't buy one, I'd have had to report her to the Humane Society.

Well I have paperwork to do, and lots of inventory coming in over the next two days, so I should get busy. Until next time..........

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie...

Today felt very different somehow. There was a curious energy in town for a Monday, and I was rather taken by surprise by the number of people milling about. Maybe this means summer is truly here (I saw my first mosquito today, surely a harbinger of the season). I found myself with a bit more to do than I could comfortably handle. I think I've gotten soft from the months of sloooow business, not to mention still being on the mend from surgery. The new pace will take some getting used to. Hopefully it increases gradually. In the meanwhile, I'll pace myself.

We got in a new item today that I think may be this summer's hot property (last year it was the "1.20.09 Bush's Last Day" merchandise, which doesn't seem as hot this year). The new items are stuffed animals in 22 different dog breeds (and 3 cats) that are curled up in a sleeping position, eyes shut, in a little bed. The catch is, they breathe and snore while "sleeping," and many people who see them think they're real! We have them placed throughout the store, but when we sit outside with one, people come over to pet it and ask how old it is! They really are cute. They're called Perfect Petzzz (click for website, but don't buy one there 'cause mine are $10 cheaper!) I sold one as soon as I opened the UPS box (they're $34.95), and they're creating quite a buzz. I introduced Marley to one, but he wasn't impressed - must be the lack of scent. At least he didn't think it was a toy (I've found other stuffed animals I've tried to carry in the store in his mouth more than once....)

Spoke with a Boston attorney today regarding my financial dilemma, and he doesn't seem to think I'm in a desperate situation (easy for him to say). But since he specializes in these things, and the Boston housing market has been one of the hardest hit, I guess it was good news. The bad news is I have to pay him a sizeable retainer to proceed, but based on the advice of my usual attorney and my accountant, it appears to be the way to go. So now I have to prepare a ton of paperwork (why do I have to do all the work, yet pay him? LOL).

Kevin patched up the roof today (many shingles had blown off over the winter - I told you it was windy here, and I'm directly across from the harbor with nothing to block the wind between us). I worked in the store for about 10 hours, which was how long it took to get everything done. It felt like a good day, even though I awoke, as I often do, with a racing heart (120 bpm) that lasted for a few hours and is quite disturbing. Sure wish I knew the cause. Felt better by mid-afternoon. Pollen? Allergies? I can't figure it.

Well, off to relax. It's 10:00, and tomorrow I go to Orleans for physical therapy. I am finding the escape from town, and work, to be as therapeutic as the therapy itself. I plan on taking some pictures of Pilgrim Lake on my way back, a most beautiful area as you approach Provincetown that I always admire as I pass by. I will post them in the next entry.

Some Rainbows Have a Black & White Ending

Welcome to the first entry in my new online journal, which I've entitled "The Quest," a concept slightly borrowed from one of my favorite Broadway shows, Man of La Mancha. It will allow me to "think out loud," as it were, and keep friends and family up to date on my life. Hopefully it will be somewhat entertaining, or at least a good hobby for me. I kept a real-life journal religiously for over 5 years with almost daily entries, but sadly got out of the habit. It really is illuminating to go back and read about what you thought and felt at a prior time in your life. As the super-being Q profoundly said in the last Star Trek episode, "Everything you once were, and everything you will become, is a part of you now."

So, where to begin?

As most of you know, last year I sold everything I owned, including my house, business, and sizable retirement fund, and sunk it into a million-dollar property in Provincetown, a beautiful seaside resort at the very tip of Cape Cod that I had visited annually for many years and fell in love with. It was a chance to move to a beautiful new area, to own my own storefront rather than waste $30,000 a year renting one, and to have a drastic change in my life that I felt I sorely needed. Well, it certainly has been drastic, but not at all in the way I had planned.

The phrase "it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there" certainly applies to Provincetown. Of course, you don't find this out until you've already moved. While it certainly is beautiful - the sand dunes, the beaches, the ocean, the quaint 19th century streets, the people - the beauty quickly fades come September, and for a good 6 months it's a god-forsaken land at the end of the earth, often bleak, desolate, viciously windy and bitterly cold. While I somewhat knew this before I moved, I didn't expect it to be so extreme. I didn't know so many people leave town in the "off season" (Census data claimed 3000 year-round residents, which I thought a good amount to support my newsstand. In reality, local off-season business was virtually non-existent since so many residents escape to warmer climes in the winter).

To make matters worse, summer business wasn't that strong either, and far below what I had anticipated. I knew that many shops depend on a strong summer to get them through the slow months, but tourism up here was severely down last year (gas prices? Cape too expensive?). Add to this a very nasty trio of lesbians who run a convenience shop next to mine who did everything in their power to bad-mouth me (which is very effective in a small New England town) , including reporting me numerous times for bogus "violations" (things are regulated here to an extreme degree), and it all adds up to a very unpleasant situation, hardly the halcyon future I envisioned.

So, by September (I moved here last April and opened the shop in June), I saw trouble on the horizon. The brutal winter totally confirmed my suspicions. There is no way for me to survive here under these circumstances. I never in a million years expected that to be the case, or I wouldn't have risked so much to come here. So, I put the property on the market in March, hoping to sell in a very weak market. So far, no bites.

At least summertime is finally here, and the living may not be easy, but it's not as awful as winter and spring. My plan is to survive thru Labor Day, and then leave. Whether that happens by selling the place, getting foreclosed on, or going bankrupt remains to be seen.

So yes, my dream has turned to shit. But as I like to believe there's a reason for everything, I'm not as bitter as one might expect of someone who may lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. I've known what it's like to have money most of my life - hell, I built a 3600 square foot house in the best neighborhood in town when I was 25 - and it doesn't bring happiness. Sometimes not even comfort. It can be burdensome, and things can have you rather than you having things. Things are empty. So while I don't advocate for poverty, I do advocate for a small comfortable shelter, an enjoyable job and enough money to get by on without having to worry. Hopefully I can achieve this in the next stage of my life, as well as less work. I worked 60-hour weeks for much of my 27 years in business - what good is it to own nice things when you can't enjoy them? That's not success. One good thing about this winter was that I had more free time than I've had since I was 18, and mostly loved it.

I've also learned for the first time in my adult life what it's like to live with someone (my friend Kevin, who has lived here with me most of the last year), and that has been a nice change that I adapted to fairly quickly. Of course, it is a big house, so we each have our own space. There have also been other visitors who have stayed briefly. Gee, maybe people can bring happiness and not wealth and possessions? I've never much trusted my limited capacity for sustained human contact (I haven't dated anyone in over 5 years), and am resigned to thinking that not everyone is cut out to be part of a couple. Maybe I just feel I'm too high-maintenance (fussy) and independent. If I couldn't find a mate in Provincetown, the gay capital of the East Coast, then what are my chances elsewhere? Honestly, I don't even think I was much interested in finding anyone. If they found me I might have acquiesced, but that's pretty passive. I also haven't felt well for months due to all the stress I've been under, so this doesn't help me feel very marketable.

In other news, I had surgery a month ago in Boston to have a benign nerve tumor removed - again - from my brachial plexus, a very complex part of the anatomy behind the collarbone that feeds nerve impulses to your entire limb (arm, hand), neck and shoulder area. I had already had this done at Yale five years ago, but it grew back since they failed to remove all of it. The second time around is usually worse, and it was. The surgery left me much more impaired than last time - hopefully temporarily - and I have lost almost all feeling, strength and movement in my left hand. Let me tell you, there are an awful lot of things that are near impossible to do with only one hand, and an arm is pretty useless without a functioning hand at the end of it. I can't tie my shoes or button/zip pants or open mail or jars or god forbid open just about any type of food or product package (this can be hard enough to do with two hands). And I am, of course, typing this with my right hand only, which I've become somewhat adept at. I go to physical therapy twice a week, which at this point mainly involves getting the fluid out of my swollen fingers. The pain has been bad at times (both aching and shooting), but painkillers help there somewhat. Peripheral nerves regenerate at a rate of only one millimeter a day (but thank god they do!), so it will likely be 3 to 6 months before I have my hand back, hopefully without dysfunction.

That's all for my introduction, I'll update throughout the summer. Hopefully knowing I'll soon be free of the pressure of trying to make this all work will make it a somewhat enjoyable one. My last hurrah, at least for this venture.

(The pic was taken this morning of me and my buddy Marley)