ROW 80 4th QUARTER POST 1 – INTENTIONS AND CAMPAIGNING

Yes, this is the kickoff to Row 80, 4^th quarter. Yes, I jumped the gun and I probably confused our lovely sponsor, Kait Nolan. I hope I didn’t irritate her. You see, anyone who has spent any time reading my blog or spent any time around me at all has to listen to me jabber about Row 80, or my 750 words. I really try to put this out every day. Of late it has been a challenge and it may be more of one as the we go into this next round. I have Parkinson’s Disease. This has been a nightmare in some ways and very revelatory in others. Revelatory in ways I can barely describe. I have made several wonderful friends who are dealing with PD. I hate to use the word “suffer,” because that is not exactly what happens. Sometimes I do hurt. Sometimes, the pain is just so excruciating. Sometimes, not. But more on all that later.

What I’ve been doing, is kind of a “pre-season” Row 80. After the last row ended, I was a sad thing. I felt I had no purpose. I know people are busy and have their lives and kids to tend to, and I am kind of in a stasis here, right now. I’m off to the neurologist on Thursday and while I wait to go, I’ve just been hanging around, responding to people’s blogs and commenting; doing a little FB. Played a bit of Runescape, but just not much. I’ve been tired; blah. It’s probably a good thing. Normal life takes effort now. Just going to the super market and home takes a supreme amount of energy and if something happens and I become emotionally upset, it can take hours for my pulse rate to slow down and everything to return to normal. It’s not dire; it’s just a pain in the ass.

A very neat thing happened. Our rent-a-kitty has become a perm-a-kitty. After the incident with Chupacabra and our landlord, we continued to feed her, kind of hiding it. Our landlord, is at heart, a very kind man. He came up one day when JC was petting her and in his broken English said to JC, “Your son?” JC looked at him rather sheepishly, but nodded. We had her spayed. She’s not feral. She belonged to someone. She must have been pregnant and had one other litter before she had the one she was bearing when she came to us. Sadly, she lost all of her kittens from this last litter. She is a sweet thing. What was funny is she kept JC up for 2 solid nights tearing around the house. She is nocturnal.

The only other thing I was going to talk about was this dollar bill I ran across today. We decided we were too lazy to make sandwiches. Now, how lazy is this? We’re not only too lazy to open a can of anything, we’re too lazy to take out 2 slices of bread, smear a little mayo, bird shit, mustard, ketchup and add wheatena to our bologna o-s-c-a-r m-e-y-e-r tuna fish sambich. Good God! So, we call the Gyro place and order the same shit we ordered last time and we go through the same routine as last time. I ask for an “original gyro with” hold your breath, “extra tzadziki sauce,” because that shit rocks my world. The yogurt and cucumbers is just so good. Their gyros are so fresh, too. Well, JC interrupts me and says “no extra salt” I’m like “What?” I know he can’t have extra salt, “huh?” he repeats himself, “Extra tzadziki sauce, they forgot last time.” I nod. “Please, extra tzadziki sauce.” I say, again. It’s just easier to say it. He’s a bit hard of hearing. I don’t see. Together, we almost make 1 person. It works. I pay for it and I was starting to open the bag to check the order. The guy says “I have deliveries to make,” and off he runs. Damn if there is no extra tzadziki sauce. Déjà vu all over again. I call the place. The guy comes screeching back. I say to him, “This is why I wanted you to wait.” He says, “I have deliveries to make.” Off he goes. I look at my change. This is one of my one dollar bills:

Quite the little campaign ol' Ron had going here. At least I didn't spend money on this.

So, this is my “opener.” Not a barn-burner. Not meant to be. I’m just going to try and write 750 words every day on whatever, just like always. Some of it will be inspired, some will be so-so. Some might be actually horrible. I’m actually thinking about going back over some of my previous “Homeless Chronicles in Tampa” posts. I may have enough material to self-publish a book. Maybe a book with 3 or 4 different sections. Sections of Homeless essays, Life stories, General essays, Politics, Humor. We’ll see. It’s great to be back.