It is 0145. Once again I can’t sleep

When I was 23 years old, I joined The Marine Corps. I was in the 88th OCC, C Company. It took me about 24 hours to realise I had no business being there and dropped on request at the first chance I had. I did nothing wrong. And yet, I have an enormous sense of shame about this career choice.

I came home to collect delinquent auto loans for a bank that doesn’t exist any more. I moved to selling life insurance, property casualty insurance, hating these jobs as much as I did the Marine Corps, if not more. I met frauds, alcoholics, and con men ( Ponzi scheme operators).

Finally, I found work resetting grocery store category sections. It wasn’t bad, nor was it good. It was tolerable enough to endure. I got paid for „drive time“ to drive to god-forsaken places like Colonial Beach , Virginia, where I once saw bald eagles eat road kill.

I’ve managed to stay sober for almost 32 years, through deaths of my parents, job loss and divorce. I used the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous.

For me , recovery and sober living is about telling the truth about my life, facing the truth without flinching.

That is the whole point of this post.

It’s a multiple choice question

All of The Above

None of The Above

It’s a fuckin’ shame when libidos go out of synchrony or one partner’s desire disappears all together.

Maybe should I just lick her cunt or her asshole? Licking her ass might be the quickest way to get thrown out of the house.

I could ask her if she’s ever masturbated. Is there a seminar on jerking off for 71 year old Southern Baptists who act as if their virginity has been restored as if by some miracle.

Before I do any of this , I better find another place to live. Just in case, there’s a worst case scenario.

I want to say some things about this woman , to whom I was married from 1980 through 1995.

Did she mess my head up? Yes. I am certain I messed up hers

And almost every night I think of her.

There’s not anger , but loss, that we could not, despite a fifteen year marriage, connect.

And I‘m up at 4:30 AM , thinking of her.

This is the day Julius Caesar was assassinated by a clique of Roman Senators who feared he was becoming a tyrant

“Et tu Brute?” Shakespeare had all of his colleagues in on the hit. Creepy, befitting Modern American Gangsters.

I did not want to brush aside this day. We have to admit there’s murder in our hearts.

Even if today is Sunday.

He we are again Friday The Thirteenth. I’m not superstitious but this day always stands out for me.

Of course,when March tracks February in non-Leap Years, as it does in 2026, we get a nice “double dip”. Symmetry.

I get it. We are in a hurry and can’t be bothered. March carries a dreadful Ides. Julius Caesar, was assassinated on 15 March. Now we have our credit and debit card closure dates that seem important . More important to be aware of.

I ordered a pizza for delivery tonight. I simply did not want to go out after dark. There are college basketball games on television, March Madness. Always exciting to see an upset or hear about it.

The NCAA Women’s Softball gets real busy about now. The women are quite enthusiastic about their game. Always fun to watch.

I’m lethargic this year. Could be due to my hip replacement surgery. Slowing down has its own appeal, when the jonquils come and the pear trees,followed by April’s splendid azaleas and dogwood.

I can only be so poetic. I’m consumed with sexual desire. Seducing my wife, is not a sure thing. Her libido is a cool light .

Not much else to say.

I’m sitting here at home, alone, thinking about baseball and politics, on a rotating basis. First baseball, then politics.

I have plenty of friends of who loathe Donald Trump. I respect that opinion. Like Alexander The Great, I suspect he mourns having no new worlds to conquer. He is the Chief Executive Officer of a Constitutional Republic wherein limits to executive power are delineated. He isn’t King of The World, despite his delusions. He is, I suspect, in denial of his own mortality.

As a citizen of a Free and Open Society, I am completely indifferent to what Donald Trump thinks.

He didn’t like Bad Bunny? Who did? So Trump watched The Super Bowl. We have yet, as a Nation, acknowledged that we are under no obligation to watch this Crap-A-Thon, despite the pleadings of Media, and the Advertising Industry. There are millions of us, who wised up decades ago and said “Enough” ,”F*ck it”. Or both.

Trump’s vocal dislike of Bad Bunny has cemented his reputation as The National Oaf. The real life Homer Simpson, or, for the erudite among us, Charles Foster Kane.

Mar-a-lago is his Xanadu. What is the name of his sled? I guess we have to wait a while longer to find out.

ROSEBUD

Get four drunken sailors to simulate running the federal government for 24 hours. See how much “money” they spend running things

Could be hours of fun

I did not watch Super Bowl LX, nor did I watch the half-time show. I don’t know who Bad Bunny is. I can’t remember any recent pop music phenomena .

I think I will listen to Billie Holliday or Bessie Smith or (fill in the blank) instead. The Pop Music Infustry has exhausted itself . The Grammys have demonstrated how the star Production template is hopelessly broken. But maybe it isn’t. People are still buying the music however it is sold today. I’ve retired from Top 40 Listening or however it’s sold today

Who cares?

Who

Cares?

Of course, the night isn’t silent. The warmer seasons have their choirs of insects, chirping and other bug noises. There are automobile sounds cars racing off, an ambulance or cop. car. I remember once neighbours making love (having sex) with their windows open.

There are nights when I cannot fall asleep. Tonight , for example, is such a night. I’m watching the railroad tracks in Ashland on You Tube, hoping a train passes by. Most likely a freight train will pass, with the banal box cars and tanker cars. of today. There are few poetic reminders of the railroading past . No SCL or Milwaukee Road or Soo Line. Just the dull yellow of the leasing company that owns them.

Railroad executives aren’t poets. Maybe they wish they were. It’s a tough job keeping these monsters fed and moving. Lots of railroad execs went to Michigan , so blue and yellow are CSX’s colors, same as The Wolverines.

I watched The Golden Girls tonight.My Mom liked that show, and it really was a good show. I should have told Mom she had good taste while she was alive. I miss her.

This is why there are nights, with bug noises and heat pumps and refrigerators all doing their bits to shatter silence.

Women (biological) wanted. Must like bel canto opera, homemade cappuccino, and guilt free sex, in no particular order. Gardening a plus.

I will not object if you sleep nude.

Tattoos a plus. Body hair negotiable.