loner – Mister A’s domain

The Reese’s frisbee

It was an ordinary summer in 1983, and I was in the backseat as we drove back from my family’s annual beach vacation. And the closer we got to being home, the more anxious I got. I was finally about to find something out:

Had I won that Reese’s Cups frisbee?

See….in the early and mid ’80s, it was common for name brand snack products to have contests and prizes w/ game pieces in every product. The possibilities seemed endless. You could win $5 (the most I ever did), $5000, a stove, a frisbee, and so many other goodies.

I loved that stuff.

And often, you had to get both “halves” of a prize to win it. I knew I’d gotten one half of the frisbee earlier, and I got another frisbee half piece while we were on vacation. But I couldn’t remember if it were the opposite half or not.

That was all that mattered at the moment. Because I didn’t have another care in the world.

Because it was before my hellish teen years. Before I spent my (otherwise great) college years with a pain that I couldn’t shake yet. And before I spent the last almost 30 years and counting dealing with depression.

I was eight. Life was easy and with no worries.

And at this point, it’s hard to fathom how that was ever the case. But it was.

And I still remember it vividly. I was already an antsy enough traveler as it was at that age, but the anticipation of uncovering my possible jackpot of frisbee heaven made those final hours on the road seem even longer.

We finally made it back. Before I did anything else, I ran in the house to check “my” drawer that contained all my irreplaceable valuables. The other frisbee game piece was waiting.

It was the same half.

I wasn’t even that surprised, because I’d had a nagging suspicion the whole time that I hadn’t won it. But still, it was disappointing.

Despite this unthinkable life setback, the next day still came. And I woke up ready for it. Happy, emotionally healthy, and ready to move on.

Something that I haven’t felt for almost 40 years now.

Escape, part 2

I just want to escape.

To a hotel room in the middle of the night. In total darkness and with a strange foreign TV show on (that I can’t understand).

No need to check out in the morning. Free from any obligations or responsibilities. Enough food and drinks in the mini-fridge.

Total quiet all around. Except for an occasional passing car in the distance.

And never enter the outside world again.

Music over the years

Whenever I look back at my past, I tend to associate one song the most with a particular 1-2 year time range. Earlier on it was current hits. But in the last 20 years, was more often something that I heard at the time (that resonated the most). Maybe someone might bump into something they’ve forgotten about (or never heard before):

1981: “Physical” by Olivia Newton-John. I’d just turned seven, and this is the first song I remember hearing all the time. Reminds me of getting hot dogs with my grandfather in his country club’s diner (as it played in the background).

1983: “Break my Stride” by Matthew Wilder. The first record that I ever played over and over. I was obsessed with it.

1985: “Rhythm of the Night” by Debarge. My favorite song around that time. Hearing it while on a field trip to the state capital. During the last year when life was consistently happy

1991: “Rush Rush” by Paula Abdul. Slow dancing with someone to this on a cruise ship. One of the few great times and escapes I had as a teen.

1993: “Freak me” by Silk. Yes I love ’90s R&B anyway, but this one is the most special to me. Maybe the best year of my life. My freshman year at college. Going out with friends on the weekend and hearing this playing inside the club (as a few girls coming out were drunkenly and badly singing it). Music to my ears.

1998: “Money Ain’t a Thang” by Jermaine Dupri and Jay-Z. Represents the most social times that I had after college (which didn’t last long). All of us in the car after a long night out, singing this at the top of our lungs.

2004: “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day. As I first made the journey to southern Cali (to figure out a plan for the move there a year later). This was on the radio all the time then. As I hoped that my California dream would not turn out that way.

2005: “Cool Night” by Paul Davis. Shopping for cleaning supplies at the local grocery store (to clean my apartment for that move) and feeling such relaxation as it came on. So I still associate it with finally making that major life change. It also started my appreciation for late ’70s/early ’80s soft rock.

2011: “Blackout” by Breathe Carolina. Toward the end of my struggles during that time out west. But still remember this coming on the radio right after I’d picked up a date to go out one night. It wasn’t the typical genre I expected to like. But she started up with it from the beginning. And by midway through the song, I was nodding my full acceptance. Before the end we were fully in tune together. “I’m only getting started! I won’t black out”

2012: “Mr. Wrong” by Mary J. Blige. During lonely nights driving out to play poker (as I was on the road staying in a good friend’s area for awhile). Searching for a new life.

2017: “Alone” by Halsey. Anything Halsey from that year would fit. Not surprising that I’d pick that particular song of hers though. As I ended up back in the same city from my 20s for awhile.

2018: “Tender Love” by Force MDs. One day it came on at work in my good friend’s office, and I started playing it some on my own occasionally since. So I now associate it with my time at that company

2022: “Ordinary World” by Duran Duran. Ending up back near my hometown for now (for family reasons). By this point, I was already trying to avoid “crying for yesterday” and wishing that there was an ordinary world that I could somehow find.

Still hoping for that.

A new step update

It’s been about 2 1/2 months since I decided to restrict access for one year from the outlets that I’ve used most for my degenerative behavior with my finances.

How are things going so far?

Well, there’s no improvement in any desire to make any necessary life changes. Though that’s not very disappointing (because it’s what I expected). It would’ve been nice to surprise myself with some upside there, but…not to be.

No change to my frame of mind. I still feel the same level of failure (and hopelessness about the future) as I did before. I’m pretty much the same person. Just without the further decline of my financial future.

So has anything positive come from this new path yet? Yes and no.

I’ve found that this break has provided me some more clarity on the future. When you’re not busy destroying yourself further sometimes, there’s not much else to do but think even more about the reality of your situation. That’s the good.

The bad? That outlook is only worsening. The opportunities to rebuild with advantage gambling continue to tighten. Plus I don’t see that trend changing. Maybe not for the rest of my life. And the funny thing is, that realization hitting even deeper has actually caused my discipline to be better in the meantime. Because if there’s no viable long term plan to build back a lot of wealth, then what’s the point of even trying to run up some $ the wrong way? Even if that happens…not like I can do much further with it.

How messed up is that, eh? The future looking even worse has helped me to keep a better perspective with the present. Talk about having to find a good side however you can.

But it’s what I have to do. Especially since the other outlets from my past (sportscard dealing, financial markets trading) likely won’t be available to me soon either.

So that’s where things stand. I still hope to make some other general life progress this year, but there’s no sign of it yet. So I’m still just holding on.

Waiting for the right new chapter that will probably never happen.

Sensei A

I just finished watching the just released final episodes of the Cobra Kai series. Yep, I’m sure there are endless blog entries out there saying that right now.

Nope, this one won’t be like those.

Double spoiler alert: first one is the typical “don’t read on if you’re gonna watch it”. Second one is: despite how much I loved it, this is not the typical feel-good cheering on or critique of the series. So don’t read on for that either.

These are just some thoughts on how much I relate to it. Johnny’s journey, specifically.

When I first started watching Cobra Kai at the beginning (over six years ago), I was, like many people, looking forward to seeing where the storylines would go with all the characters and their families. After all, I was an 80s kid and the Karate Kid has always been one of my very favorite movies.

But things immediately took an additional focus. From the very first scene beginning in the present day.

Johnny Lawrence…..the guy who had so much glory when he was a lot younger….is now a man in his early 50s who just unhappily slammed the alarm. He’s living in a shitty apartment and about to start another day of a dead-end, meaningless life with no one close to him (with any hints of his past success having disappeared many, many years ago).

I still remember how that hit me.

Because even though Johnny’s personality (and many of his strengths and weaknesses) couldn’t be more different than mine, his life path was eerily similar. For those who have never seen any of my entries: no, I wasn’t the stereotypical guy who peaked in high school. Far, far from it.

But I have had the same long lasting slide from a similar level of success (as a young adult) to a very long period of failure that’s lasted into middle-age.

Fast forward to today, and I’m almost his age at the beginning of the series. And here I was watching the feel good conclusion that has played out over the course of six long seasons. It’s what you’d expect: after tons of highs and lows as he rebuilds his life, it all comes together in the end.

Now he has a life full of family, friends, and a bright future. And just as important: redemption and success again.

And that really hurts to see.

Because now I’m that guy a few minutes into Season one, episode one. But unlike Johnny, I don’t know if I’ll ever have the opportunity to come full circle. And even if I did, it’s hard to imagine having the energy to pull off such a long, exhausting transformation.

There’s even one more small parallel. A quirky one that makes me grin for a second. One of my very, very few close friends has always called me sensei. Not because I know karate, but as a compliment to the accuracy, clarity, and teachable nature of some of my life views and skills.

And what’s the basis of Johnny’s later life transformation? Yep, he becomes a sensei.

Could that be my path too? Sounds nice, but it’s not gonna happen. I could never enjoy being a teacher, because I don’t have enough interest in being around sharing life with, well, people.

What does that leave then? Just another 50 year old guy who never wants to hear that alarm to start a new day. Who may never find his way out of this life hole.

As I’ve said a few times before here, it’s simply another example of how real life can easily be far apart from the typical movie-life ending. Sensei Lawrence may finally change from ace degenerate to ex-degenerate, but the reality looming for Sensei A appears very different.

Until the day that the alarm never goes off again.

Death

In all of my incessant whining about life over the last five years, there’s something that I’ve rarely mentioned:

I find myself thinking about death. A good bit. My own and others (past and present).

And this is a change that only happened as I got further into my 40s. Despite my lifelong adult unhappiness, I was never the type to have a morbid frame of mind when I was younger. Back then, it just didn’t come to mind much. Like many depressed people, I just floated through my daily existence.

But now, it’s creeping in all the time. Especially since I’m now at the stage where the adults from my childhood are all elderly (or already gone). And I’m not talking about anything personal there either. I’ll see a game show host from the ’80s on a youtube video, and think to myself “he’s dead now”.

Not healthy, I know. But unavoidable lately.

What’s worse is that this is another part of the midlife crisis that could easily become permanent. Actually, it’ll probably get even worse. If I’m already starting to think about death regularly at 50, imagine how I might be about my mortality way down the road.

Another quote from Shawshank just came to mind: “Get busy living, or get busy dying”.

Maybe someday I’ll learn to become capable of that.

My future life being broadcast now

Recently I bumped into the youtube channel of a single guy (probably around 65 to 70 years old) who makes regular videos about his life in Vegas.

After five years of entries here, may has well let the secret out: yes, that’s my “home” city. In the past a couple times, and likely for good in the future.

As you might expect, there are a number of Vegas residents who have popular channels about their life there. This guy isn’t one of them. He has a relatively small group of regulars, and his videos aren’t as diverse or well-produced as the others.

But that doesn’t matter, because there’s something that stood out to me from the beginning:

He is me. Well, 20 years from now.

Chances are that by then (when I’ll be his age), I will have been settled back in there for awhile and doing the same things he enjoys. A tasty, reasonable lunch at one of your favorite mid-range casinos (as you just relax and take in the ambience). One night staycations at various places in town. Soaking up some sun on the Strip.

And yes, doing it all alone. I don’t know if he has any family around, but all of his activities don’t involve anyone else.

It’s quite surreal to see this though. This preview of your own upcoming existence. Especially from someone who seems to also share this quality:

Embracing the emptiness of that lifestyle.

It may not be healthy, and sometimes we may wish that we could change who we are. Obviously that’s not going to happen though. Some of us are simply made for certain paths. And I hope he makes the most of his.

So to this gentleman: if you’re still around when my life hits that stage, maybe we’ll both need an occasional break from the solitude by then.

I’ll look you up.

Why do we long for a childhood that was painful?

That was a question that someone I was close to (for awhile, anyway) asked once. She is a very bright and very troubled individual.

Actually, many people I’ve known (who have gone in and out of my life) fit that description. They are who I gravitate to. Anyway….

I wondered the same thing for awhile. Because as miserable as much of my adult life has been, I would not want to live through many of my childhood years again either. At least on the surface.

So why do people like us do that? I think I figured out the answer sometime ago. And it’s a somber one:

For those of us living an unfulfilling, painful, depression filled, energy draining life…..not only do we dread the daily responsibilities that we have to push through non-stop, but every day is also a constant reminder of a life that you never wanted to end up with (and probably won’t ever improve enough). Then add in a midlife crisis/lost youth once you hit my age.

But what did even a hurtful childhood still offer? No responsibilities. And most of your life (and dreams) still in front of you. So whether or not you realized it at the time, there was likely an underlying hope for the future that made things feel a little better.

And that’s why we still found ourselves reminiscing fondly about it.

I’d like to tell her this. But even though she actually lives in the same city as I do now (and is cordial with me), she has no interest in being part of my life again. And after how I handled our time together, I understand. Though it’s not all about that at the moment, and how things unfolded then definitely wasn’t all my fault either. That’s another story for another time though.

So we’ll just stay two lost souls here. Same town, but may has well be many miles apart. Another example of my distance from the world.

As we wish for a time that we can’t get back.

Heading to the National

Nope, not any of this summer’s national political conventions (thankfully). This week, I’ll be making the modest 200 mile drive to the national sportscard show.

It’ll be just the second time I’ve gone. The other was when I was just 15 and had started my small business of buying/selling cards in high school. We centered the family’s summer vacation around it that year. And…how things have changed since. No, not going to go there again now.

I bought the pass late last year, which was right after I left my job and still had some lingering hope about repairing my future. But since that hope is now gone, I really considered not going. Especially since I have no desire (nor the finances) to be buying much now anyway.

The show pass is non-refundable though, and I’ll meet up with my closest friend in the business. And since I will probably have to make a much more concerted effort to liquidate some of my collection soon, it’ll be good to see for myself how the industry looks during its biggest yearly event.

So, despite my usual desire to avoid spending any energy anymore (especially when it comes to being around other humans), I’ve decided to keep the plans. It’ll be interesting to see how I’ll react to being at such a madhouse though. That’s the last thing a depressed recluse wants to deal with, but hopefully it’ll be worth the effort.

Plus it’ll be interesting to see how how my mood is there. This will be the first time I’ve had any social interaction since I pretty much gave up on life earlier this summer. So as bleak as this sounds, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to enjoy much of anything now. We’ll just have to see how I react to it, and if I can forget my troubles long enough to have a good time with my friend.

Especially since I don’t want to put a dent in HIS vacation by being a wet blanket. That’s naturally another part of being so depressed that keeps you stuck in a cycle of isolation: you don’t want to bring others down with you, so you just avoid meeting up with people in general.

Crossing my fingers. We’ll see what happens.

Casino life and the two different versions of me

I just got back from a quick trip to the casino that’s 50 miles away. As usual, there were very few people there (on a weeknight so late). Not exactly a scene that would interest most others.

But for me, it’s one of my favorites. So once every couple months, I enjoy the late night trek.

Why?

Have always loved the atmosphere in general. And much moreso when there aren’t very many people around.

The solitary late night drive on the interstate. Especially on the way back. Just you, your thoughts, and the occasional truck on the road

It’s a good place to get a nice midnight meal

I’m able to cash out some player points and check a few particular video poker machines for any crumbs of leftover profitable opportunities.

So while just one or two of those things wouldn’t be enough to bother going, combining all of it makes it worthwhile. But there’s one other main reason why it feels good to visit:

I become the version of myself that doesn’t self-destruct financially.

That wouldn’t make sense on the surface to most. After all, shouldn’t a sometimes degenerate like myself be the most susceptible to the glitz and glamour and everything else there designed to take your money?

You’d think so. But that’s not how my mind works. When I’m in a casino, I usually lock in to the “advantage” gambling/market trading mode that led to supporting myself that way for so many years. A main reason for this is because it’s actually easier to fire away huge from your laptop; it’s not like I enjoy the thought of showing up somewhere with a huge wad of cash and having lots of people (both customers and the casino crew) watch you possibly struggle so badly. Plus there are other complications involved there.

But when you’re sitting around alone in your boxers, there’s little to stop you. A few clicks and you can be whisked away to the escape of quickly trying to hide your life pain (and get back all the mistakes of the last 15 years).

So many someday I’ll figure out a way to make the “casino” version of me into the everyday one. I doubt it could ever work that way, but I’d like to think it’s possible.

Until then, I’ll just enjoy my occasional trips there. And those fleeting moments of escape from my normal hell.